Running with scissors
What follows is a completely banal account of my daily goings-on, and some other useless crap thrown in for fun. The emergency exit is located at the upper right corner of your screen, marked with an "X" for your convenience. We are not equipped with safety belts, and you may keep your tray tables down.
Last weekend's conjugal visit in sunny Virginia was nice. A sticky, sweaty, hellish heat kind of nice, but altogether relaxing. The Boy and His Friend went to an expensive theme park for a combined cost of three trillion dollars (including food and one ruined cellphone). For the most part, I stayed in the airconditioned room watching movies and peeling grapes. The hubster worked all three days (double time pay, his choice to do it), but we got to hang out in the evenings.
Upon our return, I commenced peeing on sticks, performing complex quadratic equations, swearing off sweating, imagining the triplets and myself at Megalomart, and collecting newspapers and aluminum cans for entertainment. It was my last week at my current (old) job; a touch bittersweet in a "fuck you and the ass you rode in on" kind of way. I'm gonna miss them. ::sniff::
Today I'm doing 38 loads of laundry, switching out my winter-to-summer clothes, vacuuming, cooking, gardening, and general errand-running. I need to find a branch of my bank that is open on a Saturday. I have to stop at the pharmacy and pick up my new prescription, then dollar general for the super-fun-sized-family-pack of monster-mega-maxi pads (and coffee, paper plates, toilet paper, soap, and some birthday cards). I already mugged my postman to retrieve my giant-stack-o'bills that wouldn't fit in the "outgoing mail" clothespin. My dog wants to go play ball. The hubster is home this weekend for Big Boy Chores. Right before we left for VA, my icemaker blew a hose and flooded my kitchen. We *think* the floor is going to survive, but this pouring water into little trays and waiting for it to freeze just isn't acceptable. Who lives like that?? We're putting in the big (window unit) A/C. By we, I mean them, because I'm a girl with cramps. Menstruating does have its advantages. Really. For breakfast I had a low-carb energy bar, 5 cups of awesome Starbucks (make-my-own) coffee, and a strawberry Bacardi Silver. If you think I'm kidding, you'd be wrong. The boys went golfing, I had a lively conversation with Kellie about sex-related topics, and did a load of dishes. My life is full. If it wasn't going to be drizzling all weekend, I think I'd scrub the dead bug carcasses off my bumper. Maybe that will give me something to do tomorrow. I'll try to fit that in around the furniture rearranging, treadmill placement, carpet shampooing, and cabinet cleaning plans. Monday is when I start the Dream Job. There is something cathartic about an impending launch. Ok, that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it is true, for me anyway. I want to get rid of the old and start fresh. I bought new clothes, I'm doing my spring cleaning ( a little late, but you can't be all working hard and stuff when there's a chance you might actually be insane or something, uh, I mean, the "P" word...), and I'm feeling absolutely stupendous. Manic, but in a giddy sort of way. For sale: one bridge, bonus troll included.
Last weekend's conjugal visit in sunny Virginia was nice. A sticky, sweaty, hellish heat kind of nice, but altogether relaxing. The Boy and His Friend went to an expensive theme park for a combined cost of three trillion dollars (including food and one ruined cellphone). For the most part, I stayed in the airconditioned room watching movies and peeling grapes. The hubster worked all three days (double time pay, his choice to do it), but we got to hang out in the evenings.
Upon our return, I commenced peeing on sticks, performing complex quadratic equations, swearing off sweating, imagining the triplets and myself at Megalomart, and collecting newspapers and aluminum cans for entertainment. It was my last week at my current (old) job; a touch bittersweet in a "fuck you and the ass you rode in on" kind of way. I'm gonna miss them. ::sniff::
Today I'm doing 38 loads of laundry, switching out my winter-to-summer clothes, vacuuming, cooking, gardening, and general errand-running. I need to find a branch of my bank that is open on a Saturday. I have to stop at the pharmacy and pick up my new prescription, then dollar general for the super-fun-sized-family-pack of monster-mega-maxi pads (and coffee, paper plates, toilet paper, soap, and some birthday cards). I already mugged my postman to retrieve my giant-stack-o'bills that wouldn't fit in the "outgoing mail" clothespin. My dog wants to go play ball. The hubster is home this weekend for Big Boy Chores. Right before we left for VA, my icemaker blew a hose and flooded my kitchen. We *think* the floor is going to survive, but this pouring water into little trays and waiting for it to freeze just isn't acceptable. Who lives like that?? We're putting in the big (window unit) A/C. By we, I mean them, because I'm a girl with cramps. Menstruating does have its advantages. Really. For breakfast I had a low-carb energy bar, 5 cups of awesome Starbucks (make-my-own) coffee, and a strawberry Bacardi Silver. If you think I'm kidding, you'd be wrong. The boys went golfing, I had a lively conversation with Kellie about sex-related topics, and did a load of dishes. My life is full. If it wasn't going to be drizzling all weekend, I think I'd scrub the dead bug carcasses off my bumper. Maybe that will give me something to do tomorrow. I'll try to fit that in around the furniture rearranging, treadmill placement, carpet shampooing, and cabinet cleaning plans. Monday is when I start the Dream Job. There is something cathartic about an impending launch. Ok, that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it is true, for me anyway. I want to get rid of the old and start fresh. I bought new clothes, I'm doing my spring cleaning ( a little late, but you can't be all working hard and stuff when there's a chance you might actually be insane or something, uh, I mean, the "P" word...), and I'm feeling absolutely stupendous. Manic, but in a giddy sort of way. For sale: one bridge, bonus troll included.
posted by Julie at 10:21 AM
4 Comments:
i'm exhausted from reading your post. if you run out of things to do there, you can come do my yardwork. i'll supply the special breakfast drinks.
Ah... but you didn't mention that the lively sex talk included future Angry Beaver potential profit makers - including, but not limited to, insemination popsicles, reusable intimate "leftovers" and pre-filled turkey basters. It's all about the marketing baby. *wink wink*
Nothing like starting your day with a smile.
I'm next after Laura! Maybe we should just skip the chores and have a Bacardi breakfast party. Sure beats the hell out of peeing on sticks!
"Running With Scissors" - you have been in my house hiding while I scream at some mad kid running with scissors. Your title makes me very bloody nervous and your day makes me need a lie down!
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