Without realizing what time it was or how time just crept up on me I saw that it was 2am…so I said to myself…”self…go to bed”…so I did…not sure why I even bothered…no sleep has been had…I tried…and I actually did sleep…for maybe 17 minutes, it was good sleep too, and it felt like enough sleep because next thing I was wide awake…I finally gave up all the tossing and turning and just got up…I really haven’t done anything productive, couldn’t read…well I could, just not the book I started on…just read random, mindless crap…nothing educational…so yeah just a waste of time…but even that didn’t hold my interest…then I decided to go car battery shopping…but I saw that if I ordered it online I would have to go in person to pick it up instead of sending D to go pick it up…the battery is for him, for my car and I thought I’d do at least one productive thing…strike one…then I thought…hey have some coffee…so I did…I made a cup…and I like my coffee strong, but I totally miscalculated. the shit I made was shit…even for my standards…way too strong. blacker than the night…strike two…so I indulged in a do over and made another cup…still strong but not so thick and bitter…now I’m thinking maybe a hot relaxing bubble bath…maybe some candles and some soothing music…then I was already doing some forward thinking…soup!!! Chicken soup to be exact…the weather is perfect for soup…or a chicken pot pie….and I’m not even hungry but I’m thinking of food…and I also have to get a letter out to my tater, he will be happy to see pictures of Makenzy…that girl is spoiled and very much loved….and I’m out…
The idea gave way to sudden capriciousness…whims work that way, I just fancied shorter hair…I’m getting there, an inch here, 2 inches there…serves a twofold purpose…I’m needing to feel lighter, and it seems cutting my hair is the only way I can feel lightness. I did manage to drop one pound, but I fear I will pick it up tomorrow…and change is good. Long hair can get very tired….always pulling it up, tying it, clipping it, having it fall, getting a headache, the tangles, the strands falling out….but the silver strands have multiplied exponentially and I like!
I don’t want to be one of those slaves to the bottle, a visible line of demarcation when new growth appears and no time or money to touch it up…nope, gonna just suck it up and age on as graceful as possible. Things are falling, sagging, wagging and lagging…..but I heard a sexy song in spanish where he was singing of the gracefulness and lovliness of the saggy boobies of his object of affection….so yeah there is hope for us old hags…not that I’m hoping for anything….just throwing it out there.
Well gots prep work to do for tomorrow. the Tia is coming over and cooking, got to clean here and there, or rearrange crap. Pot of beans is ready, just have to turn it on in the morning before I head off to work. The eats will be delish…hence the picking up the pound of flesh I lost…sigh…fatness sucks….but food is good. Fat girl sings the blues…
My time in this place I have called home for the last 17+ years is coming up….I feel like I’m done here, I have a strong desire to just be gone…I have until the end of next year. I want my youngest to not have the trauma of being uprooted his last year. But I have found it difficult to shop for a home in another city via the internet…just doing it here locally sucks…photos can be manipulated to give the impression that it is a good neighborhood, street views, interior and exterior shots….sigh….so I have made a decision that has sucked the life out of me and sent me into a depressive state. I’ve decided to stay. I have things to consider like logistics and expenses….due to my physical limitations I can’t have certain things…stairs, big yards…which I don’t need. I just need a small space. I am already slowly packing stuff up…taking pictures off the wall. Packing up dishes and thinking of just giving everything away….I hate moving, I hate asking people to help…even if those people are my own kids. I hate not having the physical strength to do it on my own. I don’t need a lot of the things I have accumulated over the years….my biggest collections that mean anything are my books and clothes….and of course all the photos of the kids and a few keepsakes….but that is still a lot of crap. I’ve been dismantling my library….giving books away as soon as I am done….I’ll be using towels to keep breakables from breaking….my son is bringing me boxes so I can start….small boxes that I can manage…by the end I’ll probably have 20,000+ boxes….but they’ll be manageable….but I’ll be trying to sell 2 dining tables, sofa, loveseat, bookcases….and I’m sure a ton of other crap. This next chapter of my life will be just me….there have been some relationships with family that will never be recovered and while sad I also realize that I’m better off without the negativity…I have my own negativity to deal with…don’t need anyone else’s…wah…I’m off to have me a pity party….
Muscle relaxer and pain pill down the hatch….note to self….next time the stupid idea to do yard work strikes….strike back…or strike a match. I used to be able to do all the yard work required to maintain a decent looking property…today…not so much. And I enjoy doing it….my back is hating me for it….big time. I can’t even start a lawn mower on my own….that sucks balls. #3 had to start it for me a couple of times. The third time I just gave up and let him finish up. I hate, hate, hate not being able to do these basic things….things I could do BEFORE. I miss so much of that….it is a reminder that I no longer have the ability to be self sufficient. I’m so not good with that. The added pain makes it that much more painful to pick up my precious bundle of joy….soon I will have to make changes there. Not sure how that will work out. Today all I could do was put her down in the crib and play with her from there…..SIGH….life can suck….but my beautiful babies make it a bit better…and having this beautiful princess in my life sure makes a lot of other shit bearable….well enough for now…I’m slowly working my way back to writing. I’ve missed it and have to get back into it…it is indeed therapeutic.
What? Yeah…..some trends that have been growing exponentially….on Facebook most days I feel like I don’t know the place anymore….I used to enjoy my drop-ins and contributions to make someone smile or think….nowI feel like I accidentally stumbled back in time and I’m in church….the Church of Facebook….where there are all sorts of condemnations…..or back when I’d drop in at the town’s local pancake and coffee shop and the old timers would get into heated discussions over politics….***SIGH**** I do miss the old Facebook….I know some of the going ons are trends, the pet posting, the trout pout pics, etc, etc….anywho I’ll stop bitching about that….
Day off from job 1, so much to do and waiting on motivation, savoring my coffee…still doing laundry, have ironing to do, clothes to put away,a vacuum to run, a list of things I want to put together and photograph and hopefully sell, if not off to freecycle. I also have to try to finish my haircut….I can get one side just right or close enough to where it does what I want to, but I get challenged with the other side, I’ll eventually get it to where I’m okay with it or where I give up and let it grow out again.
My cup is almost dry…so I’ll be wrapping things up, shower, haircut, ironing station setup, may watch a movie while I do that….then I’m hoping for a nap before I go to job 2…..I want to enter a drawing for maid service for a year….and win….where do I sign up????
Bespectacled, respectable, incongruous, yet a lovely chat with Mr. Mayman.
His look was a studious one, spectacles slid down his shiny bulbous nose, mottled old crinkly skin. Well mannered, but initially distracted with the task at hand.
I watched him at work, setting up code, the algorithms lost on me. Started conversing with Mr. Man, I let him do all the talking, I gently prodded and asked questions.
Soon an uncensored biography began to emerge….my what skankulous lives are hidden behind the facade of a gentile old man.
The affairs, dalliances with damsels, all the while the Mrs. was at home taking care of the spawned love babes.
Mr. Man, living the high life, houses, condos, paid women, private planes….all that money could buy.
The Mrs. changing diapers, dutifully waiting at home for Mr. Man, poor Mr. Man locked up with his night-time cleaning crew in a time where cell phones had not yet come into vogue with their abilities to GPS and triangulate between cell phone towers and pinpoint the location of one cheating scoundrel. Yes, our HERO, Mr. Man, Mr. May. MrmaydoashepleasesbecauseheCAN! Oh and the money, the women and the SEX, oh the things money can buy. But one day that uneducated Mrs. got smart and learned of Mr Man‘s ways. She wouldn’t have anything to do with our Mr. MayfuckanythinginaskirtMan. So she left his cheating ass.
The Mrs., the high school dropout, working menial jobs to support the kids, support herself and keep her pride. That was the period in between the separations.
Mrs. Notasdumbasshelooks soon was back at home, her home state that is, taking nothing and asking for nothing from Mr. Manthefuckup.
Mr. Maysoonrealizeheisadumbfuck found himself free to party and fuck his brains out, every night, it was the 70’s. Life was good. Money, women and more money, no wife, no pissing, pooping responsibilities under foot.
But Mr. Maynowseethewritingonthewall found his big beautiful house devoid of the sights and sounds that make a happy home come to life. No wife, no kids, no joy.
Time to pay the piper as life comes full circle.
Mr. Manofthehomealone soon gets into pleaseforgivetheerrorofmywaysandcomebacktome mode…andthe Mrs. Noyoucomebacktome.
Soon Mr. ManIfuckedup and Mrs. I’llshowyou were reunited, Mr. Man out of his element in a new world having lost his money, businesses, friends and practically everything else…but now a second chance or 18th chance found himself working three jobs for reals this time, now having to stay at work overnight would soon wear the other shoe.
Now the Mrs. Thattookalotofshit from Mr. Fuckaroundalot found herself home alone again, but in her own turf now with a new-found confidence and built-in familial ego boosters, albeit not the best advisors promoting a happy home life.
Soon Mrs. Watchmefuckaroundlikeyou was out giving the goose a taste of what’s good for the gander. Mrs. YoufuckedmeovernowIfuckyouback met her next husband left Mr. ManIsuregotfuckedback for a new life as a new wife.
But fairy tales being what they are, “total fucking bullshit, unless you really are Cinderella” life came to a new lease – divorce from the new man and a second lease on Mr. Manlet’sdothisagain.
So Mr. ManIfuckedupbutIlearnedmylessonafterIgotplayed and Mrs. Ifuckedyoubackandnowwereeven went on the way to spinning their own happily ever after.
Most Sunday mornings I make my trek to the grocery store, preferably early while most people are either sleeping or in church. Most Sundays boy # 3 is the one that goes with me, then boy # 2 has to bring everything in and put everything up. Some Sundays they will switch out. This Sunday boy # 2 gladly got up to go with me, why you may ask….well boy # 2 was promised the keys. He is now 16 and wanting to drive, so we are taking baby steps. He does pretty good at staying in his lane, but he needs work on his turns. His backing up was okay as well. I survived it even though it began to rain before we got there and I wasn’t sure if he would start freaking out….as it is he can’t yet handle the radio or even the AC as this distracts him. We will continue this on Sundays and soon he will be able to get his driver’s license.
It’s scary and exciting at the same time for me…and admittedly sad, my baby is growing up and will soon leave the nest.
So last night I bitched about the rain gods not bringing rain to my neck of the woods….well the rain gods decided to spit down at me and my hood. I even stepped out and let the rain fall on me. It felt good except the sidewalk was still pretty warm. My yard needed it, though I don’t imagine that it rained enough to bring my parched yard back to life.
I shouldn’t be bitching about much, I’ve been reading some harrowing stories of the plight of the famine and drought stricken Somali’s. I read with tears spilling out- of mothers having to make a choice no mother should have to make. Which child to leave behind to die….they are trekking to camps in hopes of food and water and medical attention, the mothers are too weak to carry the kids and the ones collapsing along the way are simply left there in hopes that they are able to save the rest of their family. It is hard to fathom how in this day and age the concept of birth control is still not practiced universally.
I’m thankful that I am still able to provide for my kids, even if it’s all on plastic and I’ll have to deal with the fallout later. Well enough randomness for one evening, I am off to take a cold shower.