Almost done!

Hi, everyone!!

ugh.

I'm not that fucking cheery. You know this.

I don't know why I even typed it, but now I've exerted the energy, and I don't want to delete it.

It's almost New Years, and to be honest, I just can't be bothered.

We have been on the run since Christmas Eve. If we were not physically going somewhere, we were getting ready to go somewhere or we were getting ready for someone to come here. Do you remember what I said about hating the rush-rush-rush? Yeah.

We had a nice Christmas.

Christmas Eve will find me...

where the love light gleams...

As we've discussed, I will not be home for Christmas.

I will be out running around.

If you're reading this on Christmas Eve, I am probably at my sister's house. Today, we have brunch with dad, lunch with mom and family, and then dinner, well, wherever we can find it. I look forward to Christmas, I really do, but I hate the rush-rush-rush.

HATE.IT!

Tomorrow, I'll have Christmas with LovelyGirl and OldMan in the morning, and then we're racing off for a two-hour drive to my in-law's house for Christmas with them. Because of our animals, we cannot stay the night (much to my mother-in-law's disappointment) so we will stay for a few hours and then turn around and drive back. I had worked out a plan where we could take Tinydog with us, and just leave later in the afternoon so that the birds wouldn't be left alone so long during waking hours, but, OldMan said that wasn't good, so we're doing a day trip. Secretly, I think OldMan is grateful for the excuse to not stay.

Here's why:

SO MUCH!

Well hell.

Here we are again and weeks between posts.

I've really got to stay on top of this. I was doing well, too!

Alright, so a quick rundown on things that have happened:

Charlie

I've been waiting on this post for a few reasons:

1. I wanted to have pictures of this bird.

2. There's too much to talk about.

3. I wanted a happier ending.

Taking Charlie on is one of the bigger responsibilities I've opted for since I started doing rescue for exotics. This species of animal is incredibly smart and needy with some very specific requirements to be healthy and happy. In the two weeks between the initial phone call from his owners and my picking him up, I did extensive research and made tons of notes on things that were going to have to be considered, done and continued if we expected to keep him.

And I do.

Loss

I know you're waiting for the Charlie post, and it's written, and you'll see it this week, I'm sure, but I feel like I need to talk about something else today.

Yesterday, youngest sister sent me a text message to let me know that a friend had been killed in an accident. Before you freak out about passing that kind of news via text and not on a phone call, she had to tell a large number of people in a fairly quick manner, and I have to admit, I probably would have done the same thing.

Actually, now that I think about it, I don't think I would have talked to anyone.

Really, I don't want to talk to anyone now. Which is why you guys are hearing about it.

I know...

that when you get to the point where you're spending more time apologizing for not posting than you are on actually posting, you should just delete your blog.

HOWEVER!

I keep it. I keep it to remind me that I need to talk to people, if only my lovely interwebbians. I know you're there. I see the count change daily. I don't know who you are, because you fools never bother to say hello. You could, you know. Say hi, introduce yourself, that kind of thing.

Or tell me to piss off and find a real job. I'd take that, too.

At any rate, I've been busy. You know how it is.

Holidays, in-laws, cooking, cleaning, yelling at OldMan when he hits me in the face with the Christmas tree and tries to play it off like it didn't happen...

Also, I've been dealing with Charlie. You're going to hear about Charlie in the next couple of days, but I'd like to get some pictures of him, and that requires my being able to work with him without his attempting murder on my person. So far, that's not really an option. He's drawn blood twice, and it makes me antsy. And sad. I wish he understood that we're nice people, dammit!

OldMan's been here, too. And honestly, if he's around, I'm going to spend time with him and not you guys. It's not that I don't love you. It's just that he pays the bills and I love him more. Not specifically for the bills thing, but in general.

I have to clean and re-organize around the casa de unemployment, too. And finish decorating. It already looks like Christmas puked in my house, but, if I have to look at it all day, it's going to be nice, for fuck's sake!

Hang in there with me, kids. It will be worth it again, very, very soon.

Love you guys.

XOXO

Happy Thanksgiving

This will probably be the last post this week, mainly because I am too damn lazy to post AND try to get all of my other crap done.

Tonight, favorite sister and her husband are coming over for a (real) Thanksgiving dinner. This is  because our auntie decided that this year, we should try for a little more gourmet effort in our foodstuffs. She's hosting, and that means she gets to choose the menu. I have got to get this house put together before next year. Seriously.

Normally, our menu includes a turkey, sage dressing, a wonderful broccoli/cheese/rice dish, mashed potatoes with so much butter, they're yellow, a squash casserole that immediately clogs the arteries but tastes like love, sweet potatoes with pecans and brown sugar on top, and then something like nine pies of various caloric ridiculousness. This is how we roll. This is how it's done. This is what we love.

Unfortunately, that won't be the case this year. This year, we have a turkey, natch, and then a sweet potato, russet potato, squash conglomerate that involves curry powder, a salad with goat cheese and gorgonzola cheese, fig jam tartlets or some such (these actually sound okay) steamed rosemary green beans and roasted carrots and parsnips. Also bread.

Gorgonzola? Really?

My family understands orange cheese.
Velveeta.
Cheddar.
Mac and.

Gorgonzola does not compute.

Anyway, today I'm smoking a small turkey, making yellow mashed potatoes and sage dressing, the squash casserole is half done and I have the goods to put together the sweet potatoes according to my mother's-mother's-mother's recipe. (it may go further back, but that's all the provenance I have for this particular gem)

Also, LovelyGirl's boyfriend may join us. LG was nine kinds of thrilled about being able to invite him and did so without really thinking of the consequences of having him around her aunt and uncle who, I kid you not, will eat this kid alive. OldMan and I are protective, they're fierce. And hilarious. And don't give two shits.
At.
All.

She got a little antsy when she figured that out. I think she's hoping he won't be able to make it.

Also today, I have to take LG's car to the shop to get the estimate done on what it will take to get it back together again after her bump on Sunday. Then, she's going to volunteer at the homeless shelter with some of the kids from National Honor Society (that's right, bitches, my kid is SUH-MART!)

Tomorrow, I'll spend all day cleaning and fixing and laundering everything in the house because

Friday: the in-laws are coming to spend the weekend.

They'll get here on Friday, and I'll make lunch and dinner and breakfast on Saturday, on top of putting together the sides for the gourmet grossout at aunties.

Saturday, we'll all get up, eat, and then I'll cook until 2. We'll drive out to MY family's pseudo-Thanksgiving, stay as short a time as we think is okay and then escape back to our casa. Hopefully, the in-laws will leave shortly thereafter and I can sleep a little bit.

Sunday, I plan on putting up my goddamn Christmas tree.
And then watching Christmas movies.
Possibly drinking.

Monday, I have to drive a couple of hours to go pick up a parrot.

Yeah.

A new addition from an elderly couple. I should be able to put pictures up next week and show you the bloody scars from bites and scratches. We'll see.

Anyway, I'm swamped. I love you people, but I have got more to do in the next few days than I can really think about without losing what's left of my shiny marbles.

I want you to know, that if we have to do the stupid "what I'm thankful for" round at any point this weekend, I'll be thankful for all of you, but I'll say "I'm thankful I don't have to wear a bra every day."

And it will be truth.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

You. And you. And that one over there.

And no bra.

Racism and new friends

This morning, I made what I hope is my last trip to the grocery store for the onslaught of holiday cooking I have to undertake this week. I had a crap ton of groceries and I always feel vaguely bad about making a checker go through all of that stuff, so I try to be as nice and fast as possible.

About my cashier: she was an absolutely lovely black woman. She had the hair, the nails that require her to use her knuckles to push buttons on the register, the jewelry and three, count 'em, three(!!) neck tattoos. We're going along and she's ringing me up and making small talk. At one point, she asks me about the cheese I bought and if it was any good. I told her it was and that I liked it a great deal. She went into a little speech about how her boyfriend always tells her she's going to be constipated if she eats cheese.

I said "boys are the worst."

She replied with "GIRL! Yes. They. Are."

and without thinking I said

And.... crunch

So.
LovelyGirl has a weekend job in a very, very cool resale shop here in town. She usually only works on Sundays, and, as of yesterday, had decided that she should leave her job to make sure that her academics are flawless (we've had some disruption in her hitherto perfect grade reporting) and so that she could hang out with us when we're not doing things like yard work.

She was actually pretty sad about leaving her job. She loves her work and loves what she gets to do. (Sound familiar? Yeah.) So, she talked to her manager and turned in her notice yesterday.

A very emotional day.

At 5, when she got off, she texted to let me know she was on her way home. This is a requirement of her driving for awhile longer. It allows me to know that a. LovelyGirl has arrived safely and b. when I can expect her to arrive safely at the house.

Unfortunately, after that, I went out in the garage to help OldMan with a couple of things. It didn't even occur to me to bring my phone. It was about ten minutes later that I just HAPPENED to come back in to grab something and my phone was ringing.

I'll give my wonderful readers two guesses who was on the phone and what had happened...

Cleaning house...

I didn't create a special schedule for keeping my house clean.

Or organized.

Or in any real livable condition.

I do stuff as it needs doing.

Today, the bedroom carpets need cleaning, so that's what's on the agenda.

Also, my office / animal room needs to be re-situated. We've adopted out more than half of the residents, so I can condense to make room for newcomers.

At any rate, it's Friday, and that means dance party!

For those of you wondering, Anna, Jim and I used to have a music-free 30-second dance party when the day(s) got too serious/overwhelming/terrible.

We had a lot of them. :)

Sometimes, we'd randomly select a radio station and whatever was playing we danced to.

It was a lot of fun when it was a talk station.

So, in the spirit of randomness, I opened my Pandora to the channel that is (appropriately) named "The Most Random Shit You Can Imagine" and the first song up is today's dance party music:

Enjoy and have a great weekend!

I may do a Black Friday giveaway next week. Anyone interested?

Quitting the evil

I quit smoking about six years ago...

Aside from raising a teenaged daughter, it is, no question, the hardest thing I have ever done. I quit drinking and some other, more serious, addictions with less issue than I have had quitting.

And I'm still doing it - every.single.goddamn.day.

Family tree...er...forest?

I have a fairly large immediate family.

I have a mom and dad - natch, but I also have a step-mom and step-dad.

I have six siblings. Three sisters, three brothers. Actually, now that I think about it, I have more than that, because

The Last Straw - Part Two

For Part One, Click Here.

When last we were here, the boss had yelled and screamed and called me everything but nice.

I got home that Monday night, and the usual "how was your day" from OldMan set me off. I cried and cried and told him what had happened. We talked about what in the world might have happened that the boss had gone from telling me how irreplaceable I was and how she depended on me and how grateful she was to have me to now calling me names and accusing me of all kinds of nonsense.

OldMan told me to quit. Just go in and turn in my notice then request vacation time for two weeks. Heaven knew I had enough PTO to do it. Actually, I think as of my last day, I had something like thirty days of accrued leave available.

However, I don't quit. I figure out what's wrong and fix it. And I certainly don't quit a job I love. No. I was going to go in on Tuesday and hash it out with Bosslady. We were going to come to terms on whatever it was that was bothering her and I was going to keep doing what I do. There HAD to be some kind of explanation for this. She was angry and thought I'd been ignoring her. After a night to cool off, surely she'd be open for discussion and adult conversation and reconciliation.

Wrong.

Half day!

I have a half day today.

Rather, OldMan has a half day at his real, grown-up job that pays the bills, and I'm claiming a half-day from my pretend stay-at-home housewife job.

Usually, on half-days, we run the errands we'd rather not do on the weekends. This includes trips to the local Buy-N-Large or, if I've been particularly productive that week, (read: whined enough about it) I'll get a nice lunch.

We'll pick LovelyGirl up from school.
*Yes, she has a license and a car, no she's not allowed to avail herself of either, currently.

We'll come home.

Favorite sister (my BFF) and her husband (OldMan's BFF) will come over and we will drink, play games, watch crap television and play on our respective electronic devices.

It's going to be a good day.

And because I'm short on sleep and time, here's today's dance party video:

Timeflies ... Sleep Forever

Happy Friday, darlings!
Enjoy your weekend.

Today, I'm thankful for tinydog and her cuddlyness.

Parenting Perils

So...

Yesterday, in the wake of all the election tragedies...

no. not really.

While I was dicking around on the interwebs - my phone rang.
I didn't know the number so I didn't answer. Sent it to voicemail and went about my merry way until the message notification came up.

Unfortunately, the call?

The one I chose to ignore and send to voicemail?

THAT one?

Elections

Normally, I have my posts put together a few days before I want to publish them. It saves me from scrambling around at my desk every morning trying to come up with something to talk about.

However, after seeing some of the shit being flung around this morning regarding yesterday's elections, I decided I had some things to say...

Kitchen Shenanigans

I'm sure you're ALL wondering where I'm at with the kitchen re-do.

Um..

I'm completely over it.

Here's what happened:

The Last Straw - Part One

So, I don't know if I've given you a real idea of the following:

a. how much I LOVED my job. LOVEDLOVEDLOVED

b. how crazy my boss was (is)

c. how easy/hard the decision to leave became

Yeah, that last one is confusing to me, too.

But, regardless of what I've gotten across so far, we have come to the last straw.

The one that broke me.

To this point, I have worked hard, made very, very little money, and been abused in ways that astound even I.

Before we get to the good stuff, I just want to be on record as having said the following:

* I understand that I accepted the salary for my job and knew what it was when I took the position,
so I shouldn't complain about it. If you knew what I'd made, you'd complain on my behalf, though.

* I also understand that under no circumstances was I the perfect employee. No one is. Unless they work for themselves. Then they can be both the perfect employee AND the perfect boss. It's Nirvana, that.

* I further agree that I did not handle my final leave-taking in a professional manner and didst knowingly screw my staff right in the bumhole.

That said, let's get on with it.

Foul on Friday?

I've been working on the "final straw" posts for about a week now.

I sat down yesterday and re-read what I've written, and honestly, it made me sad.

I've gotten more comfortable in my role as 'housewife', but it is still a little disturbing not to be going out into the world every day and doing my own thing.

Having my own life, separate and distant from the one I live at home.
Having something to talk to OldMan about other than the laundry I did or what happened on my trip to the grocery store.

I'm still trying to come to grips with this new reality, and it's difficult. This is not the life I had planned. I had action and adventure and accomplishment on the agenda. Not to mention alliteration! I mean, come on!

I get that it's an important job. I get that I am fortunate to be able to do this. I get that women all over the world would love to be a stay-at-home mom with a sizable allowance and permission to do whatever they wanted, as long as the house was taken care of and the progeny not murdered.

I don't enjoy being solely responsible for our home. We've always shared the duties here, and while I don't begrudge OldMan the ability to completely shirk his side of things now, it's still bothersome. Especially since I do this all week long and now on the weekends as well.

GAH!~

I need to quit complaining.

It's Friday, people! FRIDAY!

I think we should have a dance party to get ourselves out of the funk.

What say you?!

Yeah, old JPop.

What about it? Just enjoy. And dance around a little bit.

So you know, that's the band Gyaruru with "Boom Boom Meccha Macho".

It's just fun and silly and these girls exhaust me with that energy.
Also, I think they're all my age...

whores.

Blogger's Note: Evidently, November is supposed to be 30 days of being thankful. I can do that, right?
So, for yesterday and today, I'm thankful I didn't kill anyone on my way out the door at the old job. I'd be in prison and not at my desk in sweats and a ratty tshirt. I'd be someone's bitch. All for a pack of reds and an extra tampon allotment.

Hallo-weenies!

People, my doorbell rang twice last night.

Read that again.

Yep.

TWICE!!

I had the awesome pumpkins. I had decorations! I had signs and

I

HAD

CANDY!!

Two rings for a total of five trick-or-treaters.

Two Transformers, one Princess, one Rocker Chick and one Iron Man.

I have a big sad and a big bowl of candy that I now have to deal with.

I don't understand it. The weather was good, everyone else was reporting record numbers of beggars, I live in a very, very child-centric neighborhood and every other year we've been flooded!

At any rate, maybe next year, LovelyGirl, OldMan and I will just close up the house and go out to eat.

This is what was left over. 

A note here:
I know I promised pics of the office this week, but I've been caught up in some other projects around the casa, so look for them next week.

Unless I get productive today.

Don't count on that.

HALLOWEEN!!

I heart Halloween times ten thousand.

Or, used to.

Now, I'm into it, but more in the "oh-I-have-to-buy-candy-and-do-shit" way.

With that in mind, I had written a "how I made my very boring pumpkins" post.

Then I realized that I probably won't do how-tos very often anyway, so why start now?

I have candy, I have pumpkins, I have zero patience today, so, you know, it should be lots of fun, right?

Suuuure...

PS: LovelyGirl dressed as 11 today. Sonic screwdriver, bow tie and all.
Bow ties are cool.
Fezzes are cool, but you can't wear them to school.

Poetry, that.

Happy Halloween everyone!

Yes, these are the pumpkins I carved yesterday. I had a tutorial written, but I assume everyone can wield a knife and understands the concept of pumpkin carving patterns.

The Story of DOG

I love dogs.
I am a dog person.
Cats are okay (I know, believe me. I have two of them.), but dogs are awesome!

Right now, mine is sleeping on her little pillow that you guys keep seeing:

WTF, Lady?
I'm trying to have a nap!

It cracks me up that she stays there all the time that I'm in here.

She's irritated because...

Fun Friday!

I have nothing important to talk about!

I'm working on the final two posts about the upheaval.
Until then, you get pictures.

Leading up to the end.

When we left off talking about my previous life, my fabulous doctor had discovered the cause of my gastric distress, laughed like Renfield and Rx'ed me some Xanax.

For awhile, things were great. We were going along swimmingly, boss was happy, staff was happy, company was happy.

And then...

Oh, rats!

Riiight -
like I would use 'rats' as an exclamation.

FUCKBEANS! is more my style.

However, that's not what I was talking about.

Happy f'n birthday!

My one-and-only, oldest, youngest, dearest, most terrible, awesome, amazing, brilliant, beautiful jerk-face daughter turns 17 today.

SEVENTEEN!!

I'm almost done here, people! I mean, we're talking less than one year, and she's an adult! Do I get a new contract then? Does she turn into a pumpkin? How does her adulthood work?

WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?!?!

I kid. I also publish letters to her on the interwebs.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow is THE date in our house.

It's LovelyGirl's birthday. All regular programming comes to a complete and total stop whilst we honor our beloved daughter with attention and attempt to buy her love with shit she doesn't really need.

However!

A whole week!

Shit, guys.
I know you're all out there wondering what the fuck happened to me and where my amazing, hilarious posts are...

all three of you. There may be more than three, but I'm comfortable with that number.

Also, I feel like three people = me, my favorite sister and OldMan.

That's alright, I guess, but really, you're usually involved in my shenanigans, kids.
Get out. You already know how this shit goes.

Anyway -

Plans!

OldMan has been telling me to find something I like to do and make money doing it.

Here is the problem:

This is true.

However, in an attempt to be like every other stay-at-homer, I've been looking into things I could do. I may have found something, but I'm not settled on anything yet.

At any rate, today we're leaving for a weekend trip to [literally] a cabin in the woods. My sister, her hubby and dogs, plus myself, OldMan and LovelyGirl with our idiot chihuahua and a car full of groceries should all arrive sometime around dinner tonight. Meanwhile, I have laundry and last minute packing to finish this morning before we take off.

Everyone be good. I'll be back next week.

Not that you were worried.

Pinterest

If you're not on Pinterest, you will not understand the post, so for you, here is a picture of the middle of the Golden Gate bridge that I took when I was last in San Francisco.

Isn't it pretty?

For everyone else...

You won't believe this, but...

On Wednesday, I posted this about the good news for Anna.

Did you catch the part about how I hadn't talked to Jim (or, rather, he hadn't talked to me...) since I'd left?

How it hurt my feelings?

How I understood, but was secretly still pissed as fuck that he was being a baby?

No?

Dance party!

Want to get your day started right? 

Check out Young Holt Unlimited

The song is "Soulful Strut".

Yeah, I'm dancing around in my pajamas.

How'd you guess?

Have a great day everyone!

Good news!

I don't remember if I've expressed the worry I have for the staff that I left behind.

It is considerable.

For the first couple of weeks after I jumped ship, the boss was on her best behavior. She made sure that everyone had what they needed, was supportive of ideas and endeavors, handed out time off like aspirin and was generally the 'World's Best Boss'. Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, that was fairly short-lived.

A Weekend Off

The weather turned nicer this weekend, so the family and I decided (I demanded...) to get the fuck out of the house and make a little day trip to a conservation area not too far away.

It was lovely to be out and about and not just to run errands or get from Point A to Point B. It seems that may be one of the things I'm struggling with. My old life involved me being out in the world and interacting with people. I had happy hours and dinners and hell, even lunches out of the office. Now that I'm not living that life any more, I think I start feeling 'trapped' by my house.

Please understand, I generally loathe the human race and avoid every interaction I can, so being in the house is lovely. But, evidently, I need to walk out the front door more often than I do.

I actually felt really, really good this weekend. I was happy and relaxed and confident. That's not something that's happened a lot recently, so I was quietly grateful. I secretly feel like people can tell I'm irresponsible for walking out on good job when so many people are unemployed. I can feel them looking at me and judging me.

Apparently, that particular brand of crazy is moving on to a different schizophrenic zip code.

I just enjoyed myself.

With my camera!

See? And you thought this was a different kind of place!

WRONG! (Oooh! I just channeled a little bit of Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. COOL!)

Here are some of the shots I got. Enjoy.

Or stuff it.

Up to you!

This is a damselfly, not a dragonfly

These are koi. You knew that.

These are pumpkins. They were getting ready for a fall/halloween
thing that goes on for a couple of months.

This pond is the start of a creek that runs throughout the entire area.

That, my darlings is a dragonfly.
If not, I'm sure someone out there will correct me.

Previous Life

   I mentioned in another post that I thought I had talked about what I used to do. Evidently, I never posted this... it's long, so if you give me the TL;DR, I'll understand. 

   And then I'll come to your house and cut you, you ungrateful harlot. 

   Why yes, Elegance is my middle name. Why do you ask?

 If you check the FAQ, you'll see that I don't divulge information on where I was previously employed. It's not that I don't want to write a tell-all about the shenanigans that go on behind the scenes at a place like that, but I have a lot of respect for the directors and the facility itself. I can't bring myself to completely throw the good people under the bus along with the handful of asshats responsible for my, shall we say, 'abrupt departure'.

   However, I can tell you some of what it was that I did.

   My title was 'Department Manager'. I handled hiring, firing and discipline of the staff, scheduling, finance, purchasing, contracts, creating new business, communication and coordination with other departments, creating programming, web design, budgeting and general upkeep and repair of a building that was - almost literally - falling down.

   That's just what was in my job description. I did a lot more than that on a day-to-day basis. Most of the time, I was the first person in every morning, and one of the last to leave. I had a serious need to be on top of things. Mainly because I loved the place so much. I don't say that lightly. I love very few things. I love OldMan and LovelyGirl, the rest of the family, the dog, and that job. I wanted it to be successful in every possible aspect. Any time anything went awry, I felt like it reflected poorly on me personally. In my heart and head, I know that wasn't a reasonable response, but it's the way I operate. If I'm responsible for something, if my name is attached somewhere, I want it to be good. Great, even. I never want someone to tie me to something less than awesome. If I'm involved, I need it to be amazing.

I get it from my dad.

Blegh, but so cute!

I feel like garbage today. I woke up and could not breathe and my head is so full of snot, I can barely hold it up.

HELLO, AUTUMN!

I'm like this every year. So is OldMan and LovelyGirl. We have terrible allergies and when seasons are a-changin', we are a-sneezin'.

So, since I don't feel like blathering today, I'm offering up another rescue picture:

Behold the cute.

This is Noodle. Noodle is a parrotlet. This is an actual species of parrot that occurs in the wild and is so cute, your head will explode.

I've been replaced

Periodically, it occurs to me that I actually MISS going to work every day. I've said it before, but it bears repeating - I've worked every day of my life since I was a kid. Not having a formal job is disorienting. It's been three months and I still haven't discovered the secret to having a life.

Is that what this is? Having a life? That seems severe. This is more like 'having a different life'. I mean, I had a life when I worked. It was just wildly opposed to the one I'm currently living, right? (Yes, readers, you were just subject to a little stream-of-consciousness conversation there. Sorry about that.)

I'm sitting here with the dog, having my coffee and thinking about the things I need to get done today. Actually, it's all very similar to what I used to do. However, I did that with a full staff and in my office, not with a chihuahua in my sweats.

I'm in my sweats, not the dog.

Hmm...

I really need to stop and think about what I'm doing. Every day, it seems I'm overwhelmed with the things that need to be done and the things I want to do and the things that actually occur.

I don't know how I managed a house, worked full time and still had a brain. Maybe I didn't.

There's a thought that's going to fester in the wee hours of the morning.

I'm an organized soul, I really am. You wouldn't know it by the state of my pantry (I accidentally typed that as 'panty'. Freudian slip, perchance?) or my cabinets, but I am. I know where things are, I know what things need to be done, I can tell you when each of our bills is due and when I paid the last one. I can't imagine that being unorganized is the issue.

I'm also not really worried about the work. I like to work hard. If I'm at home doing it instead of in my office with a river view, so what? Work is work. It wouldn't matter if I had one thing to do or the one thousand that I do have. That's not the problem, either, I don't think.

So what the fuck is bothering me?

I have no clue.

Maybe I just need an outlet other than cooking, cleaning, building, repairing, more cleaning and more cooking.

I think maybe I'll try being crafty like the other moms.

That should be good, right?

Any mental health professionals or psychology 101 students want to try their hand at a diagnosis?
Holla.

FAIL!

Ugh.

I am trying so hard to do this stay-at-home thing right, and yesterday was just not the day to reflect upon success.

AM - working on cabinet door refinishing. I painted the primer the day before, so I was ready to paint the final color on them.
AND
SPILLED
PAINT
IN
THE
GARAGE!!

Who are the people ...

in your neighborhood?

During the day, I have found that most of the women on our street are also at home.

Next door, the retiree. I think her husband still goes to work every day. At least, he gets up and leaves every day. He may go to the bar for all I know.

Across the street, Super Mom. Three little ones and one in grade school. She's one of those moms that has everything under control AND cupcakes for the class party. She's tiny and blonde with a giant SUV and a cellphone attached to her face. Periodically, they have LovelyGirl over to sit for them while they go out for the evening. I want to hate her, but, honestly, she's the sweetest thing. The day we moved in, she waited until the crowd had cleared out and then came over with beer and cookies. How can you dislike this woman?? Seriously.

On the corner, the hermit lady. She's middle-aged, and the only time anyone sees her is when she walks to mailbox each day. I've never seen anyone mow their yard or rake leaves or anything, but it's always done. I don't get it.

Suddenly, a wild chocolate pie craving appears!!
XO uses a fork.
It's super effective!

There are a couple of women who do leave the house each day. I've no idea what they do, but one of them is dressed to the nines and wears heels that make MY ankles hurt. I like to imagine she's a present day Peggy Olson. if you don't understand that one, www.google.com.


So, do I make an effort to get to know these women? Do I just hide in my house like I've been doing, talking to you good folks? And if I DO decide to socialize with the housefraus on the block, how would I go about that? Offer coffee? Gin? Cake?

Fuck no. More of that pie. That's the good stuff. I'd have new best friends in minutes.

Things you don't want to do

For a moment, pretend you're at home. Your spouse / significant other / cat has given you permission to run amok and tackle any project you desire.

What do you do first?

Tackle that re-grouting in the bathroom?

Scrape, sand and refinish the hardwoods by hand? With no gloves?

Build a skyscraper from the ground up with lawn clippings?

Allow me to tell you, any of those are preferable to refinishing your kitchen cabinets.

YOU DO NOT WANT TO REFINISH YOUR CABINETS!

Now, don't tell me 'Oh, no, I really DO want to refinish them'.

I assure you, you do not.  What you want is to have your cabinets refinished, right? You're not really WANTING to do that. You want it done.

HUGE DIFFERENCE!

The Big Time-Consumer

On top of working full-time (when I did), managing the house and family and you know, stupid things like 'having a life', I somehow started an animal rescue.

Stop.

Right.

There.

Do not for one bloody second imagine cute and cuddly and sweet and four-legged.

They're not. I assure you.

At least, not most of them.

It started with a tortoise. That's all. Just one. A lady I worked with asked if I had a dog. At the time, I didn't, so she asked if I might be interested in providing a home for an elderly tort.

Sure.

Why the hell not? 

How hard could it be?

Guilt

I've been off work for over two months. This is the longest I haven't worked since I was thirteen. I was only off work for six weeks when LovelyGirl was born.

I cannot begin to explain the guilt I have over this. Old Man keeps telling me that it's been good having me here taking care of the house and errands and things that we usually had to spend our entire weekends doing, but it's making me a little crazy.

I spent most of my childhood being accused of being lazy, and I think it's affected my grown-up life a great deal. I've always worked hard - even when I was a kid - and been terrified of missing something or not getting something done. That was part of the reason I left my job. I was repeatedly accused of not doing something that a. had nothing to do with me (quite clearly someone else's responsibility) but b. was evidently something I was supposed to be doing. I simply couldn't keep trying to figure out whose job descriptions were changing resulting in a change on mine. And it's not like it was ever brought to my attention. If someone had said "Hey, Bitch- this is your job now," I'd have been all over it, gotten it done and there would have been zero issues.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

At any rate, life is good, but still... I have this guilt. I'm hoping it fades as I continue in this new part of my life. I want to enjoy the time I have to do the things I want / need to do without worrying about it.

I just don't think I'm cut out for 'retirement'.

Pretty much sums up life in this house

The Damn Cabinets

I've decided to redo the kitchen cabinets.

Mostly because I can only clean the baseboards so many times, and really, I can't sit around and watch television all day, so I have to find something to occupy my time in a real way. (*I am aware that I could very readily do those things, but I have a major guilt complex about not working. You know this.)

Our house was built in the seventies, which is fine. I don't mind it at all. It has a great layout and some character. However, it also has some really ugly-ass cabinetry in the kitchen. For some ungodly reason, they put a raised decorative molding on the front of the cabinet doors. These damn things have to be wiped down daily and given a good solid cleaning at least once a week. They collect every scrap of dust and debris that comes through my kitchen. I know I said I don't cook, but I do. AND I LIKE IT! I like to bitch about it, too. That's what you'll hear most of the time, I'm sure. However, I'm messy as hell when I'm in there! I can't make a cup of coffee without spilling the coffee, sugar and / or creamer. It's just a way of life here. Old Man and Lovely Girl are the same way. We're just prone to mess.

Mobile bitch

Now I can blather from anywhere.

Bored

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be doing now.

I look around at these other stay-at-home types and they all talk about the joys of being with their children and maintaining a Christian, man-serving, almost subservient life.

THIS IS NOT ME.

I'm not Christian, I'm sure as hell not subservient, and my child is a mouthy sixteen year old who isn't usually here.

I'm going to go play with the dog.

Reluctant

I wasn't supposed to be here.

I had a job. A real job. A job I loved and that I was exceptionally good at.

Then, one day, my boss lost her fucking mind.

I did the thing that everyone daydreams about doing.

I walked into her office, tried to be civil, got yelled at and accused of ridiculous chicanery.
*(that's not what people dream about. Or is it? I don't know you people.)

I rage quit.

Yeah.

Told her I'd had enough and
walked.
the.
fuck.
out.

Now I'm here.