Me: If you tell me the problem is with me and not with my machine, we’re going to have a big problem.
Joe: What do you want me to say?
Me: Tell me the problem is with my hardware. Or my software. Whatever. I don’t care.
Joe: So, just not with you.
Joe: You’ve done nothing wrong.
Me: Right. Exactly. Say that.
Joe: You’ve made no mistakes.
Me: Thanks. Yes. I’ve made no mistakes. Nothing is my fault. As far as you know, every goddamn thing I’ve done up until this point has been exemplary and I’ve done every single thing P.E.R.F.E.C.T.
Me: What. What!
Me: Why are you looking at me like that? Is it so hard to imagine that I haven’t done anything wrong and the problem is really with my laptop and not with me? Because it-
Joe: I was pretty sure the next thing out of your mouth was going to be, “By the way, I also invented WordPress.”
Me: I did. I invented WordPress.
Joe: *sigh* And that’s why I married you.
Here’s another look at the mushrooms. I’m in a weird mood today. You’ll have to forgive me for all these posts with photos and like, 2 lines of drivel. Well, I guess you don’t HAVE to. But, it’d be nice if you did. Someday I’ll get back to writing actual stuff on this here site.
I’m allowing these darling mushroom caps to push Happy into my brain. I think they look like two breasts. Crusty areola breasts. Ok. Stopping.
In any case, I’m hanging in. To give you a sense of size, those tops measure about 7″ across. Yes. Wow.
You can always count on a CSI or a Law & Order to be showing on one channel or another. Things like that help me feel like the world is as it should be. I mean, if you can’t grab a snack and immediately and mindlessly get involved in solving a murder, then I don’t know how to go on.
Someday, there will come a time when I search the channels unsuccessfully. I won’t be able to find people in dark dress clothes combing though someone’s lawn and using special flashlights to find blood residue. I won’t be able to watch as they process evidence using amazing equipment that doesn’t exist in the real world. I won’t hear the funky instrumental music as they turn dials and look closely at beakers filled with colored water. I won’t be able to watch people’s body language as they enter, fill in a blank piece of knowledge and then walk out. Are they going to hook up or what?
On that day, my friends, I will grieve. And then I’ll scan the channels for repeats of Mad Men.
~My daughter calls me to go to lunch and all I can think is how great it is that I have time to do that with her. How sad it’s going to be when I am too busy. But how great it’s going to be to be earning money. And how lucky I am that my daughter wants to go to lunch with me in the first place. Because the truth is that I’d rather be hanging out with my kids than doing just about anything else.
~There are the absolute cutest lizards outside in the bush that climb up the brick wall and hide under the hanging ivy. They dart out and then freeze, basking in the sun and doing tiny pushups at each other. I’m not sure if that is some kind of communication or what but it’s adorable.
~Every day that goes by and I still don’t have new employment is a temptation to fall into depression. Which is in itself not really appealing to new employers. I’m trying hard to stay centered and keep reminding myself that the right opportunity is out there and it will find me as long as I’m open to it. I really do believe this but it’s hard to always keep it in mind.
I don’t know when it happened (my bet is gradually) but last week I counted over 30 newsletters in my inbox. 30. 30+ newsletters that I never read and usually delete immediately. More than half I never signed up for and have no idea how I got on their list. Of the half I did sign up for, most of those were some option when I signed up for a website like Monster.com and I didn’t realize I was going to get 12 of them a week. And I never read them. I delete them as they come in.
This past week I’ve been systematically unsubscribing from them all and I’d just like to say that kudos go to the companies that allow a one step unsubscribe. You click the link, you’re out. The next best are the two click unsubscribe. You click the link, they ask you if you’re sure or to input your email, then you’re out. But BOO and BAH to the companies that make you log in to your account and search for a tiny button somewhere that says ‘newsletters’ or ‘preferences’ that is hidden on the page or 5 clicks into the site. Don’t make me hate you while I try to get off your mailing list. That is when you become SPAM to me instead of just mostly a waste of my time. Bah to you and I won’t be coming back. And the worst? Making me CREATE an account to change the newsletter preferences. That makes me want to report you to someone and pour sand in your sheets.
I repotted a few plants yesterday and then walked around the house like a crazy person, sniffing the air like a parched man drinks water, swooping down to the wet potting soil and damp pot itself. My all time favorite smell in the whole entire world is damp brick and soil and I’ve decided to repot the plants every week.
When I was pregnant, the craving to smell wet brick would sometimes get a little out of hand. For example, I once put a brick in a bowl of water and placed the bowl under my bed so I could smell it all night long. I sniffed and sniffed and then climbed out of bed to pull the bowl out and sniffed and sniffed some more. And then I fell asleep and dreamt about swimming in a pool made of bricks that smelled like heaven.
And then once? I licked it. Yes. I licked the wet brick because it smelled so awesome that my tongue wanted to play, too. And it tasted almost as good as it smelled and if it would have been possible, I might have taken a bite out of the brick. But I’m not crazy. At least not THAT crazy. Just crazy enough to imitate a snake and lick the brick, ok?
I realize that I may be missing some kind of mineral in my diet. I’ve heard of women eating soil and chalk when they are pregnant. That could have been me. But it wasn’t, ok? I ONLY LICKED IT.
I’ve started obsessing about things that I think shouldn’t be in my mind for another few years like how my knees are doing and my schedule of flossing. I mean seriously, I don’t want to live the rest of my life worried that if I chew wrong on my right molars that the cap will fall off and I don’t want to NOT chew on that side so much that my left side teeth get too worn down prematurely so I think about every bite I take and weigh the options carefully. And sometimes the meal just isn’t worth it, man.
My top lady parts have taken a decided sag southward and I have to keep special attention whenever I sneeze to make sure I don’t have to change my underwear. Aren’t these the things a 50-something should be worried about? I realize I’m on the far side of 30 but c’mon. I wasn’t quite ready yet.
I’ve deleted and rewritten this post about 5 times now. I’m not happy with anything I have to say so I’d rather say nothing at all and yet I know how much writing helps me process things. I’m stuck. I feel a no-segue post coming on.
I came downstairs this morning and the kitchen was clean. Joe did it before he went to work and I was simultaneously ashamed and grateful.
I’ve received three books in the mail that have come with no notes of any kind. Anyone out there want to claim being the sender?
The kids were here this past weekend. At one point we had lunch at a local joint and it was easy, comfortable and fun. I liked that a lot.
I’ve been working on the video interviews that I took about a year ago. I need something more robust than Windows Movie Maker but not something so full-force that I can’t find my way around.
I have a meeting on Thursday that I’m very excited about. I haven’t felt so positive about anything in a really long time. Keep your fingers crossed for me, would you?
I’ve had the hiccups three times today. I can’t tell you the last time I had them. It’s been years. So I’d like to ask, why today, hiccups? And why three?
Today is my birthday. I’m 37. I’ve never had a hard time with a birthday until this year. I feel like 37 is so close to 40. And 40 is so close to 50 and 50 is so close to 60 and then Joe interrupts me to tell me he’ll just go ahead and call the morgue in the morning.
I haven’t done anything yet. I want to do so much stuff and I feel like I’m running out of time. I need to create stronger bonds with my children. I’m disappointed that I’m still overweight. My hair is too short. I still have acne. I’ve barely scratched the surface of the web social networking that I want to be a part of creating.
My birthday is always so close to New Year’s that I most often than not confuse the two with all the resolutions in my head. My birthday ends up being a day of promises made to myself that hardly ever are kept. But this year….this year it’s worse.
So for the rest of the day I’m going to do my darndest to try and feel positive. Wish me luck.