New Wheels=New Outlook?

So, finally the planets have aligned and the stars are in the correct position for me to get a new car. Here it is! It's not NEW, but new to me, of course. I love it so far! Looking forward to many years of good gas mileage, nothing falling off on the way to work, no duct tape, no coat hangers, and an actual working radio!  It is my Talisman, the thing that will be the pivotal point in my life for change. Or at least I'm hoping it will be. Just think, less money spent on gas and on fixing the car will mean more money to spend on utilities and rent and stuff! How exciting! Would love to be able to say that saving money on auto expenses would allow me to save money for a trip to Florida or to the west coast, but at this point I'm not sure how that will work out. Ever since bringing it home, I have been in a kind of melancholy mood. I thought I would be overjoyed and jumping up and down, opening the back door just to look out and see it. And I have been, to a point. But, as with all changes, there has come a sense of responsibility, a sense of longing for old habits dying hard, a certain trepidation about my ability to take care of something new. My shortcomings are all flashing in front of my eyes. The sense of wonder at how things worked out for me to be able to get the car, and wondering if I am worthy.  Am I worthy? The answer, definitely, is YES! I work hard and I deserve a nice car! Not only that, I'm 56 years old and need to drive something befitting my age. So,  I will walk (drive?) proudly and steadfastly into the future, with high hopes and a new outlook that this will make a difference in my life. No longer will I be afraid to drive anywhere. No longer will I be worried all the time about whether the car will make it another couple of years til I can afford another one. All those worries I used to have are gone now. This brings a new problem....WHAT WILL I WORRY ABOUT???  Just kidding, but you know what I mean. It is a load off my shoulders, and I'm thankful for that. So, as a new, proud Mama, with a not-so-great track record with cars, I'm showing off my baby. Say hello and keep your fingers crossed, for you are looking at the future!

I would like to add to this that the Kia didn't last more than 6 months. In fact, I barely drove it during that time. It was always breaking down. I am now the proud partial owner of a Toyota Corolla, and a car payment. I do love my car though. Had it for over a year now, and it's doing great!  (1/25/2013)

Spoiled Rotten....and Loving It!

When I was a girl growing up in GA, we never had air conditioning. We kept our windows open about 3 or 4 inches, and had a big ol' attic fan that sucked the hot summer air through those little spaces. Made lots of noise too. It was right by my bedroom, so I guess that's why I love to have a fan on when I go to sleep. We didn't know that we were missing. We didn't have air in the car, in school, pretty much anywhere we went.  As time went on, signs on stores used to shout, "COME IN! IT'S COOOOL INSIDE!". And they were cool, and it felt so good to walk in there on a hot day. I remember going to Sears and it would be so nice in there, and that little "bong bong" would be going off all the time on the overhead speakers. I guess it was some kind of paging system. (Gallagher, the comedian, said it was some kind of signal to women to shop. "Bong Bong, I'm shopping!" hilarious he is!) But the store I remember the most was McClellans. I would walk in and the fans overhead would stir the hot air around.  My shoes would clip-clop on the unvarnished hardwood floors. Everywhere there were bins filled with things not needed but so beautiful to a child. Five and ten cents. And you could smell the lunch at the counter. It was a wonderful place! I'm surprised I don't love to shop. But maybe that's why I like Dollar General so much. It's kind of the same thing..only cooler!
Anyway, to get to the point, my air conditioner went out one week ago tomorrow. It took 5 days for it to be fixed and during that time, I kept wondering how in the hell we ever survived in the GA heat without it. Of course, when I moved to Indiana and got married, we lived in a trailer with no air conditioning, but I don't remember it being so bad there either. Maybe it's because I'm older? Now when I get hot, I turn into a sweat-dripping, red-faced grouch who looks like a stroke waiting to happen. I have to admit, I didn't do diddly-squat during those five days except what I absolutely HAD to do. I looked forward to going to work because it was cooler there. I didn't sleep much. Getting old sucks! But now the AC is fixed, and I am happy to sit here and listen to it wind my electric meter up to oblivion! I will never take it for granted again! 
But sometimes, it would be nice to go back to the days where walking into McClellan's hot store on Marietta's square made me happy. And sometimes, you could just go in where it's cool. 

Confession of a Lazy Blogger

Bless me, Readers, for I have sinned. It has been 8 months since my last blog entry. In that time I have been on the computer every day and have ignored my blog as if it didn’t exist. I have no explanation for that. Is it because nothing has happened in my life that is blog-worthy? No…I’m sure plenty has happened, so that can’t be it…

Is it because some of the things are just too personal to write about in a blog? Well, maybe..some of them, but definitely not all!

I guess I will just have to confess that I am lazy, lazy, lazy when it comes to my blog. Please forgive me and I will try to do better!

So, what HAS happened since my last blog? Well, first, my house has been mostly clean..that’s a start! (see previous blog entry.) We’ve had Thanksgiving, Christmas, 2011, my 56th birthday, and several other birthdays and holidays. I guess considering the way the country is right now, I’m thankful to have a job and a house to live in. Maybe it’s just been a boring 8 months?

But as I’ve heard said many times, any day above ground is a good day, and it’s never too late to have a happy ending…All clichés, but definitely good thoughts.

Sending out only good thoughts to you, til next time!

I hate housework!



Oh Maxine! What a good idea!

 Almost every day of my life you will hear the words come out of my mouth, “I need to clean my house!" You would think that since I talk about it all the time that my house would be clean as a whistle and neat as a pin, right? Wrong! I HATE housework! Wash the dishes in the morning, and by supper time they are piled high in the sink. Clean the litter box, and the next day it’s full again. Wash clothes, and two days later you’ve nothing to wear. Sweep the floor and two minutes later step on a piece of something that didn’t get picked up. It’s horrible! It’s an exercise in futility exceeded only by the notion of resisting the Borg!
I am a procrastinator anyway. I think you should never put off till tomorrow what you can put off tilll next week, or forever for that matter. Now, you would think that since I know I don’t like to clean things that I would live a spartan existence, just a bed, one chair, one plate, etc. This is not the case. On the contrary, I am a packrat, a collector. I have collections of collections! I come by it naturally, of course. For example, when my mother moved in with my sister and sold the family home, the attic had to be emptied. We all knew the attic was full of stuff, but the sheer volume of “things” in that attic boggled the mind! To a neat freak, it would have been an opportunity to throw some junk away. To me, it’s an opportunity to bring more “collectables” into my home. Never mind the fact that most anything up there was bound to have mold, mildew, Black Widow and/or Brown Recluse spiders, and the possible stray alien egg on it. Never mind that lurking in the fiberglass between the rafters there may have been a heretofore unknown species breeding. Nevertheless, when I visited recently, I came home with my old dollhouse, (which still had all the pieces), tables, lamps I’ll never use, pictures of relatives I never knew, and a collection of fashion dolls all naked and headless. One of the people who was helping move things asked me if I had ever dealt with the problem of ripping off doll heads. I just smiled and walked away. He's lucky he still has HIS!
But now I’m home again and in the past 2 months I have bought 3 or 4 books on organizing. I don’t understand why organizing always costs money. I am thinking about writing a book called "Organizing the Stuff You Have with the Stuff You Have". Who has $300 to go out and buy a new closet organizer system? I sure as hell don’t! Even a plastic tote is $5. Multiply that by the number of them I would need to buy, and I could have enough cash back on my credit card to get me to Hawaii. Some day maybe I will buy some of those clear plastic boxes to put all my stuff in so at least I will KNOW what is in my closet that I will never use!
So for now,  I do my own thing... cardboard boxes, boxes, and more boxes. I have boxes everywhere. On most of them is written what is in there, what was in there recently, and what was in there 5 years ago. I am even a packrat with boxes! Unless it’s falling apart I don’t throw it away. I just mark out the label, write something new, and put it back on the shelf. Then there is that old bane of existence, MAIL. Junk mail, bills, catalogs, whatever it is, always ends up in a pile. Before I know it, I have quite a collection of papers that need to be eliminated. So I make an “eliminate” pile, and it sits there till I get around to it, which is usually three to four months after they arrive. Sometimes, I find disconnect notices in that pile. In a panic, I'll go looking for a newer bill that will show that the disconnect is no longer a threat. Usually I can either find one showing that I've paid, or I'll frantically call the company and beg for an extension. I always wonder how I managed to only have my utilities disconnected a few times. Maybe the company has my name in one of their piles and hasn't found me yet. Or, maybe the person who schedules the disconnects is a packrat, too, and he/she understands.
I have tried before to ask people who have nice clean homes how to clean. I have inevitably received the same answer....hysterical laughter. People think I’m joking when I ask that.  I don’t understand why I don’t know how to keep my house clean. So, when I ask, it's because I really want to know.  I figure that out there is someone who did not have assigned chores when they were young, or who didn’t learn to clean from their mother or their grandmother or their nice neighbor. They had to learn it on their own. Somehow they were able to cut through the banality of cleaning to find the "true light of cleanliness", or something like that. This person would be able to pass their "light" on to me. My daughter learned to clean from one of her friends. She has tried to pass her "light" on to me, but I'm a slow learner in this case. She loves me, so she just shakes her head and smiles.

Here's the thing...Housework is repetitive. I don’t like to do the same thing over and over every day. Maybe I'm messy because I am truly adventurous. The everyday stuff pales in comparison to the new horizons I am seeking. Whatever!  The truth is, I'm not disciplined enough to take care of messes while they are small. Plus,  I am used to the mess, even though it's not as bad as it used to be. All I know is that if my house is too clean, I’m not comfortable. I start missing the pair of scissors that have been laying on the bookshelf for the past month. Where on earth did I put them? I am trying to fix something and need a hammer. Where is it? I can't find the cat toy that I always trip over. Now the cats are bored and are starting to eat the houseplants, which I just found behind the newspapers and other miscellaneous junk piled on the table. Judging from the looks of the plants, the cats knew where they were all along.
Once in a while, though, my daughter and I will have this huge burst of energy and will clean the entire house. The living room, kitchen and dining room will look so good that we want it to always look that way. We thought about taking pictures of the rooms, gluing them into sunglasses and making everyone who visits wear them. That way, we could actually keep the place messy but no one would be the wiser. It would be kind of like looking through rose-colored glasses, only they wouldn’t be able to see a damn thing. They would think our house was straight out of Better Homes and Gardens. Just the way I like it!
I said that we get into moods and clean the entire house. That is true with one exception–my bedroom. It is the repository for every reject thing from every other room in the house. I have things in there that I still don’t know where to put them. There could be a million dollars in unmarked bills in there, and I wouldn't know it. Usually stuff ends up in a box marked “Stuff” which is put on a shelf in my packed-to-the-gills closet. About a week later, we will need something, I’ll remember it’s in my room, drag "Stuff" out of my closet, and the mess starts up again because I:  a)really want to go through it and sort things out, b)thought I saw an unmarked bill in there, or c) am too lazy to put it all back, because when I moved the box from the shelf, all the other boxes fell down to take it's place.
Laundry is horrible too. I try to wear my clothes more than once before I wash them, but I have this “shelf” on my upper body which catches everything from cracker crumbs to barbeque sauce. I wear something once, and if I don’t eat in it, I may be ok. However, if I have a meal of any sort, I’m bound to be washing it the next day. I do try to keep the pile of dirty clothes smaller these days, though. Once we had such a big pile of clothes on the floor, a friend of ours came over, walked down the hall, and vanished! The pile of clothes actually turned into a monster and ate him! Well, maybe not. He never did come back, though.
Like I said, I do a little better with cleaning, so it's not as bad as it used to be.  I at least try to keep the dishes done up and I attempt to keep my little space in the living room clean. I do a lot of crafts, so there are always little pieces of fabric, thread, and the occasional needle all over the floor around where I sit. I call them my "droppings". I'm sort of like Pigpen in Charlie Brown comics. I have this cloud of stuff around me all the time. It’s part of who I am. Being a little messy is part of my charm. I'm too creative to care about having a super clean house. I have a magnet that says "Boring women have immaculate houses". I agree with that. However, I think from now on, my motto will be "Love me, love my droppings".
Mouse click in 3....2.....1....

Recovering from Vacation

Ahhhhh....Vacation! What a wonderful word! The very thought of it brings images of beaches, mountains, slot machines (for some). An awesome thing. But the most awesome image the word brings up is TIME OFF WORK!!
Even people who love their jobs love time off work. It's freedom. Freedom to do whatever they want without having to punch a time clock. Time without worrying about that deadline or schedules, or even having to get dressed! Ahhhhh.....Vacation!

It's the time to drink all the beer you can possibly get your hands on. The time to introduce the family to Monster Shots (a moment of silence, please........................)

It's the time to go swimming, get bruised in all sorts of places, in other words, have a FREAKIN BALL!!!

Ok, so my vacation was obviously the latter one. My daughter and I were going to go to the beach, but we just didn't have time. We did drive up one side and down the other of a mountain, so maybe that does count. Not sure...No slot machines...that's my best friend's obsession. I'm a Blackjack girl, myself. But I'm getting off track.

Remember what I said about not worrying about schedules? Well, that wasn't entirely true. We did have a schedule. It looked something like this: arrive at sister's house Thursday night, go to bed. Get up Friday go to nephew's house, spend two nights, come back to house, spend time with Mom, visit with High School friends, go see the new Twilight movie (oh Edward!), leave for home on Tuesday. That was the schedule. Sounds a little boring, huh?

Oh nooooo! Boring was not a word I would use to describe this schedule! It was a blowout! An all out beer-drinking, shot-taking, guitar-playing, bruise-making blowout!

My daughter turned out to be a very good driver. She does think that the speed limit in every state is 85 mph, but she does really good at that speed. We sang and talked and laughed all the way to Georgia. Good times.

We arrived at my sister Vicki's house at about 8 PM on Thursday night. We were sitting out on the porch smoking, having long since been banned from smoking inside by the great Cynthia takeover..but that's another blog... and my nephew Chad and his wife Shannon showed up unexpectedly, announcing themselves as Jehovah's Witnesses. One interesting thing...these JW's had BEER! So we began our vacation by getting completely plastered on Vicki's front porch. A portent of things to come!

On Friday, when we finally got up, we headed off to Chris and Pam's house (my other nephew and his wife) armed with no less than 120 beers. That's 40 beers each if anyone is counting. We also had Monster Energy Drinks@ and a fifth of Bacardi@, and shot glasses. We were ready to parrrrtaaaaay!!!

And so, we did...For 2 solid days and nights! I will let the picture above do the talking for the most part. It does get boring talking about who got drunk and what they did or said that might not be funny to anyone but us. You would have to have been there, you know? I mean, I wonder how many times Mike asked if he had a booger? It was hilarious. I fell in the garage. Slipped on the concrete floor. Slammed my cheek into the work bench and landed on my expensive knees. Had to call for help. Pam came to the rescue, and when Eric came out to see what was wrong, he fell. (the floor was VERY slick) Pam and I helped him up, we couldn't stop laughing. Pam reached over to ask Eric if he was ok, Eric took another step, fell again, pulled Pam down on top of him. We were laughing so hard we couldn't breathe. I looked like someone had punched me in the face. Eric had a huge bruise on his butt. It was freaking awesome!

I played the guitar for the first time in 5 years. Sang with my family, felt...happy...contented.. realizing what I have missed for the past few years. Wish my brother had been there. Talk about playing guitar!!!! wow.. Maybe next time, Elwood? =)
It was good to see my mom. Old and frail, but still has a tongue that'll knock the crap out of your self-esteem at a moment's notice. I had prepared for it. I came home with my self-esteem intact for the first time ever. That in itself was quite an accomplishment, and well worth the time. Edward (Twilight Eclipse..Team Edward!) was awesome, of course, and no, Vicki, he did NOT have a booger!

Of course the time came, as it always does, when we had to come home. The trip home was great too. We sang and laughed and talked and had a great time. It took me a week to recover. I think I killed a few billion brain cells, but wow...what a blast!

All in all...it was a great vacation! I plan on doing it again a lot sooner, because I realized that I really miss my family. Allison had a blast with them, and it was good for her. I will not regret the time missed previously, though. Maybe things had to happen inside me before I could face my mom with confidence. Maybe I had to just be ready to accept everyone as they are. I don't know.. whatever it was, the time was definitely right, and I am changed. I belong now. I'm not the outsider, and it's really a great feeling. So I say, thank you Vicki, Chris, Pam, Chad, Shannon, Eric, Mike, and all the other random drunken people who floated through that Lost Weekend, thank you for the best time I've had in years!

So, pop a beer, drink a Monster Bomb (a moment of silence, please............), grab a guitar or turn on some music, and enjoy the company of those around you. If you don't have family, make one. If you do, well....try to "put the FUN in dysFUNctional". Enjoy the life you have, make memories with friends, and if you are lucky, with a great bunch of family who likes the same things you do.

Ahhhh....Vacation! Wish I could be there now..wait...do I have a booger???

Why I hate Internet Dating Sites!

Ok, first of all, if you want to get more than just someone you can meet on the street or in a bar, you gotta pay to be on a website. Sure, you can flirt, send little messages, but if anyone sends one back to you, you can't read it, or even see a picture, unless you pay. And you pay BIG! So I went on the one you see on TV all the time. Oh everybody is soooo happy, and so in love, yada yada yada... It's $59.95 a month! You can do a year for a lot less, but they charge ya $200 + at one time, so you are out the money and still don't know if they will be able to match you on the deepest level. I highly doubt if there are refunds. It's a crap shoot. As I've said before (possibly in this blog...sorry) I can get rejected for free.
But, my daughter encouraged me to try again, so I did. There is a free weekend coming up (how better to celebrate Independence Day than by getting hooked up with Mr Maybe Not Quite Right?) so I went ahead and took an hour and a half and answered all the questions, trying to be as honest and straightforward as possible. I thought I did fairly well. We shall see. Do I care? I'm not so sure about that....

The following are some of the answers that my "perfect matches" gave (and my comments on each.) You be the judge...is it worth $59.95 a month to be matched on these "deepest levels"???

When asked what books he has recently read: At this time, I read what is required for collage classes (maybe they'll teach him how to spell college while he's there...or maybe he's learning how to cut pictures out and paste them to a piece of cardboard for a nice dekorashun?)

When asked what the first thing people notice about him is: Im quit type.

Additional information: High risks reaps high reward; I do spend time up north in MI my home town. (It's risky up there in MI, huh??)

Occupation: i am gone alot (and how's that workin' out for ya?)

Three things he's thankful for: 1.that god being to me 2 that i all way being to take of my loveone. 3 that my health is still good thankful that other feeling come befor my onw i love alot like to laugh alot (wtf?)

Additional information: I don't have great table manners, but I will make you laugh. (Animal House anyone?? FOOD FIGHT!!!!!)

The first thing people notice about him: That I look mean but i am not (ha! says you!)
Which led naturally into the next question:
Additional information: Don't judge the book by the cover. No Photo no contact (isn't that kind of a contradiction?)

Things he wishes more people would notice about him: There is more to me than looks (if this is true, why don't people notice?)

The first thing people notice about Henry is : I go by Steve, not Henry (so....why did you put Henry on your profile? It's not like a legal document or anything...)

He likes to spend his leisure time: watch racing, building things, camping, having fun of any sort, shooting sports, fishing, hunting, 420 (In other words, gettin' stoned and shootin' guns an' animals an' shit!)

Oh, and the one that REALLY got me... When asked "Who was the most influential person in your life?" this guy answered: my wife. (now...is this ex-wife, late wife, CURRENT wife???)

There were more, some made me laugh out loud. Some were kind of sad. It took me about 5 minutes to figure out WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get.) I'm pretty sure that was Henry/Steve.

Anyway, I just wanted to share these little tidbits with you. Glimpses of the Caucasian, not Hispanic, 45-62 year old male population who go online hoping to meet the girl of their dreams. Hey, maybe they are blogging about the fact that I like Twilight, and cats, and movies, and that I admit to being a couch potato. Who knows? At least I spelled potato correctly!

The New Jerusalem

Today, May 17, 2010, was my first day alone in my new job. What a ride this last month has been! I lost my job, of course, and thought I was going to be one of the unemployed millions for a while. I was almost looking forward to it, when fate...ah fate!...stepped in.
There was a lady at my office who had worked closely with me on some situations, so I was somewhat familiar with her job. It just so happened that I saw the job posting after she announced her imminent retirement, and applied for the job. I went to the interview and was pretty sure that I had the job. I was right. They offered it to me, and I accepted. Meanwhile, I was offered an interview at another location. I started my new job on Monday, and interviewed for the other job on Tuesday. I just KNEW I had that job! Turns out, though, I'm not "fast-paced" enough for them, so they turned me down. Just as well, I think. Later on, they might decide I'm too something else for the job, or not enough of another thing for the job. So, I threw myself into learning the new one that I already had. After all, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, isn't that what they say? Let me tell you...it's true! Two jobs hanging out there was not good for anyone involved, and I was glad when it was all over.
So, I learned what I could, got lots of phone numbers to call in case I run into anything crazy, and started my new position this morning. I spent most of the day arranging things in the office. My friend pranked me this morning by calling and pretending to be a client who was very upset with me. I hung up on her. It was hilarious when I found out it was her. Good to have friends. She WILL be watching her back from now own. =)
Thing is, I now have a nice big office, with a big window through which I watched the rain pour down all day. I didn't have to leave my friends. I know the job, and I know I can do it.
The whole day, I kept looking around almost in disbelief. Over and over in my head, the theme song to "Working Girl" kept playing. The movie that, many years ago, made me want to get back out into the working world. The movie where when you have the guts to keep trying for something, and fail, and try again, finally it all comes out good in the end. I am a working girl, and I finally made it to that office!
"Let the river run, let all the dreamers wake the nation, Come, the New Jerusalem" -Carly Simon

Wake Up!

I do not like to go to bed

Because I know it means

A struggle for this sleepyhead

To awaken from my dreams.

So now I've made a system

For waking up. You see,

Each night before I go to bed

I set my clock for three.

At three o'clock the buzzer sounds

I stumble 'cross the floor.

Yawning, cussing, with a frown

I set the clock for four.

Four o'clock comes all too soon.

I barely am alive.

I look outside and see the moon!

And set the clock for five.

At five o'clock I realize

That I'm in quite a fix.

I lie in bed and dream sweet dreams.

I've set the clock for six.

At six o'clock another system

Starts to come to light.

A snooze bar placed atop my clock

Helps extend my night.

So every ten minutes for an hour or so

I slap my clock around.

I'm sure the neighbors are awake

From all that buzzing sound!

I finally wake at seven fifteen

Not ready to face the day

But I am up and out the door.

I'm actually on my way!

So, if you hate mornings, like I do,

You might give this a try.

What works for me might work for you.

But wait -- I cannot lie!

I must admit, reluctantly,

A secret I have kept.

Every day I'm late for work

Because I overslept.

kbozell 5/19/04

Two Months and Nine Days

I lost my job yesterday. I had it in the morning, but by the afternoon it was lost. I poured three years into that job. I learned everything I could about it. Did things with it that nobody else had ever done! I cleaned up its messes. I even got up earlier than I ever thought I could just to be able to spend time with it. And still, it is lost. Never to be found again. It should be a simple thing to take care of, clean out the desk, take the pictures off the wall, make sure I take my multicolored staples home.
But, there is a problem. Every day for the next two months and nine (well, eight now) days I have to go and sit where my job was. I have to still provide for it, do things for it, even though it is gone. How will I do that? It’s like sitting beside a coffin at a funeral home, desperately wishing the person wasn't dead. It wasn’t true. The person in there will surely start moving again any minute and it will be a big joke. Right? Wrong! My job is as dead and gone as that corpse in the coffin. Yet, here I am, and here I shall be every day, working half-heartedly at a job that no longer exists. Half-heartedly because I know that it is useless now. All my hard work has been deemed dispensable. Its impact has been negated. The job doesn’t care. This is the second day and, already, I can tell it is going to be a miserable 69 more. But I must prevail if I am to reap any of the benefits I have worked so hard to earn. Because you see, my job didn’t run away, it was stolen from me by greedy people who don’t care about anything but the bottom line.
So yes, I had a job. Not good, not bad, just a job. Necessary things, jobs. And even though people around me were falling by the wayside every day, I somehow didn’t think I would join their ranks. So my time with my precious job seemed to stretch out in front of me to the horizon with no end in sight. I began to see myself in 11 years or so, sitting on the front porch while my job just kept going. Suddenly, I was told I had 70 days and my job would be no more. For the first time in 3 years, the clock started to tick.
Funny thing, time. (Please forgive me if I’ve written these same things before..) 70 days of sitting at this desk, actually 50, if you don’t count weekends and holidays, seems like an eternity. How can I even pretend to care what happens to it, now that it has left me? To get a paycheck? Sure, but even then..it’s like being stuck on a merry go round. You are getting sick of going nowhere, but it won’t stop. Do they expect me to jump off, maybe? Make it easier for them to say, see? I knew she wasn’t worth the money. See how easily she gave up working on that dead job? NO! I will not do that. They do not deserve that satisfaction! They deserve to have to continue paying me for the job I am no longer doing! Two months and 9 days is such a long time, but I will prevail!
You know, if I was told I only had 70 days to live…those days would seem like just a mere moment. I would scramble to live every day to the fullest. 70 days to be in a locked cell, only allowed bread and water…an eternity. See what I mean? The TRULY precious things are the ones that you want to hold on to. To make last. Not this dead job. These 70 days cannot pass fast enough, because when they are done, I will begin a new life. New possibilities. New job (I hope). I will be able to look toward the horizon with new eyes and, hopefully, will see a future where my job cares for me as much as I care for my job.
70 days, 69, 68, 67…..and counting….

Spring has Sprung!

Beautiful day here in Indiana! 70 degrees or so, 60% chance of thunderstorms overnight...great springtime weather. No heat, no AC, door open, windows open ahhhhh...spring. I didn't even mind the itchy eyes so much. My wind chimes have been ringing all day. I have a chime set that is tuned, and sometimes it sounds like it's playing "Renegade" by Styx. Interesting.
I planted some seeds in little peat pots today. I'm really excited to see how they do. I have claimed this house as my own and now am trying to make it so. I always have so many plans and then end up not getting them done, but now that I have planted the little buggers, I guess I'll have to figure out somewhere to give them a home. We'll see. I'll just have to get UN-lazy and start working on it.
Spring always brings nostalgia for some reason. Fall is worse for me in that respect, but spring definitely has its weird feelings. Probably is related to the change in barometric pressure or the earth being off its axis a little bit, something like that. But I always feel like I've forgotten something...like I forgot to go on a diet, usually... But there is a certain longing for something that is indefinable, but is so real I can almost reach out and touch it. I don't know if it's wanderlust, or just a desire to be a kid again and go out and play in the yard. Back in the days when dandelions were beautiful flowers and not just a pesky little weed that makes the yard look tacky.
I'm not sure what it is. I guess it's what they call "Spring Fever". Well, if that's what it's called, then I have a huge case of it this year! I'm ready to get outside and kill the poison ivy! rake the gravel! Plant morning glories beside anything that will allow them to climb up! Feed every bird in the neighborhood! Note that there's not much spring cleaning going on. I'm pretty sure THAT'S not what I've been longing for!
So happy spring to everyone! Do something that makes you happy this spring. Don't miss it! Boinnnnnng! Spring has sprung!