Because bad taste is better than no taste at all.....

Monday, February 16, 2015

#306: exhausting and exhausted

A couple of weeks ago, I rearranged the furniture in the bedroom. This isn't as difficult as it sounds; most stuff slides pretty easily across the carpet (even the uber-heavy dresser, once you take the drawers out of it). So now the computer desk is by a window. I'm staring out the window now, waiting on the bad weather to hit. They're calling for snow this evening, then an ice storm. In a way  I can't complain; we've managed to dodge a bullet mostly compared to the folks further up north. But it's even more a pain in the ass than usual.
 
Because once again, I have to chauffeur Dent back and forth to work. THIS time it is the exhaust system that is at fault. His catalytic converter is screwed up. He went and got a new system, spent all week trying to get the old one off of his truck (made more difficult by the fact the only way he can raise the truck to get under it is by having the truck on ramps, which only raises the thing so far....) and THEN found they'd sold him the wrong one.  And it will be Thursday before the new one comes in. So, "Scratch's Taxi" is in effect, once again. I joked the other day I needed to install a meter.
 
Last weekend was spent in training to be an opener. This means being at the store at 5 am on weekdays (and Saturdays), putting the broiler together (something I was apprehensive about, because there are too. many. parts.) , and doing prep work for the folks who come in for the lunch shift. I found I enjoyed this, despite having to be there at an ungodly hour, but I don't think I will be doing it much as the folks who already do breakfast are firmly entrenched and aren't willling (or able) to do other shifts. This annoys me a little. I said I could work pretty much any time, and I meant it. So guess who gets the shitty times no one else will work? Usually, it's me. Here lately,  though I've been working mids, which is OK, except I'm supposed to be training in the kitchen, and usually I'm stuck out front instead. I'm getting a little tired of being jerked around, to be honest.
 
I suppose it will work itself out eventually. At least I am getting a few more hours than I was. Money is a good thing. :)
 
In other news, I managed to find that photo from a few posts back. You know the one, where I'm smirking. I have another one I haven't scanned in, I'm much younger, and I'm scared to death of Santa. My sister is having to hold on to me to keep me from running away, and santa is holding my stuffed big bird. I'll upload that at a later date, so you can laugh at that one, too.
 
Stay tuned.  
 

Friday, January 30, 2015

#305: Oops, I forgot to get (re)married

So Dent and myself have been a pair for a few years now, and now the questions have started.

From other people. You know the questions I mean.

".............So, when you two getting married?"
"We're not?"
"Why not?"
"Why would we?"

People assume we are married, when they meet us. And act all shocked when I tell them that we are not.  As "open" as society likes to think itself to be, it still thinks along the same channels sometimes. But I tried that once. I tried being the housewifey at home with the rugrat holding onto the apron. Hated it.  Yes. I know one bad marriage shouldn't spoil the whole marriage barrel.  I am really trying to think of the other person here. Wouldn't be fair to them should they be "tied" to me. 

Because I can't commit to myself, much less to anyone else.

That's not to say I'd never get married again--but the "feeling" has to be there. Has to be right. And while I love Dent to death almost, couldn't imagine my life without him, there is a growing feeling that, at the end of the day, we might not be the best for each other. We are at different stages in our lives--mine involves checking out a map, to see where I need to go.  And his apparently means "been there, done that, got the tee shirt". 

Something, someone else in my life I may have to let go. Maybe. 

It's going to be a painful next three years, if I am right. Hope I am not.

Stay tuned.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

#304: Letting Go

So the other day I sent off a package to someone I had only met once. It was some books that had just been gathering dust on a bookshelf, and I figured she'd be getting more use out of them than I had lately.

This is a totally new thing for me, to be giving away books. Some folks would see this as a red flag or a warning sign. But, it fits in somewhat of the plan.... Because part of the next three and a half years is going to be letting go. Letting go of things I don't need, and people I don't need, and memories I don't need. Some of the letting go is going to be painful; I have accepted this, although I doubt I will be ready for it when the time comes. Because whether I move or not, there is going to be a lot of things that I will have to let go, before I can move on with the next stage of my life.

Probably one of my more difficult decisions will be whether Dent is part of the equation. As much as I'd like it to be, he isn't helping his case any, and I don't see it happening. I admit, I haven't got much done on my own list. But at least I am formulating a plan. Or trying to. Dent still hasn't cleaned up under the car port. "I need to move the lawn mower first" he says. Funny, when I cleaned under there it didn't require me to move the mower. More excuses. Yet I have noticed it's futile bringing it up again; it still won't get done, and then I feel like I am nagging. Babysitting once again. Also, he is still talking about saving up to buy this or that. What are you going to do with it if you come with me?

Another problem is letting the landparents in on the plan. As much as they appreciate having me for a tenant (and I do appreciate having THEM), this wasn't intended to be permanent. I have hinted there will be a change in 2018, but apparently it was too subtle a hint; telling them "we don't need any thing for Christmas" (I E I'm trying to reduce the amount of stuff we have, we have too much) fell on deaf ears. So telling them WHY we don't need anything would no doubt hurt their feelings--something you don't want to do to people you pay rent to. Another challenge. You see I have my work cut out for me--because they are the sweetest people I know, and even if I didn't  know them like I do, they're like a second set of parents. You just don't hurt people like that. Yet I will somehow have to figure out how to let them go.
 
And the time is ticking.

Stay tuned.

Friday, January 16, 2015

#303: 40

The big day dawned. I guess it dawned; it was tough to tell through the clouds and rain. I spent the day cleaning house, and then stepped out to get Louis some oyster crackers... for some reason he insisted he needed some for some fish stew he'd be making later. I drove all over town, looking for the darn things. After finding them, I made my way back home to find this waiting for me. The dang Lobster'd made me a chocolate cake. "I didn't have any candles," he told me, "and I don't think Lobsters can count that high" (gee, thanks--good thing he was teasing). At any rate, my birthday came and went, and I don't feel any older. Or younger. Or different, really. I guess you don't really notice the changes from day to day. 

I also tried something yesterday I hadn't done in a while. I took a bubble bath. We have this oversized garden tub in our bathroom. I rarely use it. My daughter, I think, has used it more times when she visits, than I have. I always feel guilty using it (it takes SO much water to fill it up). It was nice, I guess, if you like that kind of thing. I always find cleaning myself up a utilitarian kind of thing, a jump-in-the-shower and then just as fast get out again. 

Today was bright and clear and almost warm, so I managed to get some outside stuff done. I cleaned under the shade house (Dent's crap was everywhere... it isn't bad enough it takes up the car port.... but the shade house, too?) Dent assured me this weekend would be spent cleaning out from under the car port. I will believe it when I see it. This from a man who can never find any of his tools, cause he never put it back where he found it last time. This is a man thing, I guess. But at least you can sit at the picnic table now without sitting on bits of tin and old rusty bolts from the old sluice he was working on.

 The weather today made me itch for spring to come. I need to decide what, if anything, to plant in those buckets this year. It was a bit much to keep up with last year, I simply didn't have the energy to keep up with it. So maybe just a couple of tomato plants (store bought this time), and the usual run of hot peppers. My herb buckets should come back (with the exception of the basil, it's an annual and needs to be planted every year) , and there's some stuff in buckets that I will probably plant out in the yard somewhere, as they're getting too big for the pots they're in and really weren't meant to be in a pot to start with.

Stay tuned.
Scratch


Sunday, January 11, 2015

#302: Motives

A couple of weeks ago, someone at work asked me a question: "What motivates you?"

I actually had to think on this, and even after a few minutes, I had trouble thinking of anything. I could honestly say my daughter was the reason I got out of bed in the morning, but other than that, I really didn't have much in the way of motivation to speak of. I think if I did, I'd be doing something else other than flipping burgers after all this time. I have a few vague ideas on where I'd like my life to go, but no real drive to get there. Part of this is my fault; I used to be the "get up and go" kind of person...and somewhere along the line I decided to get kinda lazy. But the blame can't be placed entirely at my own feet.

Part of having a relationship is having another person who will be there to help support you--not necessarily financially, but mentally. To give you that final push, that "c'mon, you can do this" attitude. Unfortunately, here lately I have felt not so much encouragement as I'm a babysitter--I can't get my own shit done because someone else has to be told what to do, first. Multiple times. And even then it isn't done, not entirely. And what is finished has been padded with excuses.

I have been slowly nudging my S.O. towards being able to take care of himself without my having to hold his hand. Yet time and again I come home to an open can of soup sitting on the stove. With a spoon still sticking out of it. Because rather than heating it up, he chose to eat it straight out of the can. This isn't much of an improvement from when I first met him, when his "dinner" consisted of Little Debbie snack cakes, potato chips, and Sun Drop, with the occasional use of the oven.

...........Is it any wonder I have little motivation going on?

Obviously, if it's motivation I want, I'll have to find another source--cause I'm sure not getting it here at home.

I found some of it a few minutes ago, when I logged on to the Blogger site. Because this blog has apparently hit the 10000 pageview mark--Thanks!--and I am hopeful this is just the beginning.

Stay tuned.