That moment when you’ve awakened from a three-hour sleep after your upstairs neighbor tromped around in high heels half the night. (Bless his idiot heart.)
And that moment when you realize three people won Powervall and you aren’t one of them and what you prayed would be your first vacation day is going to be the exact same as yesterday.
I will just have to find another way to buy the Playboy mansion and fill it with the world’s unadopted cats.
I was in traffic today when the guy beside me started laying on his horn.
Scared the shit out of me.
We both stopped at the red light. (I was shocked he stopped, even though we have red-light cameras there. It’s a school zone and a retirement community all in one.)
But I am sick of people’s shit. So I looked over and said, “What?!”
He pointed to the car in front of him that was already through the light. He made dramatic gestures and started to roll down his window.
I shrugged and said, “SO?!?!”
And I ignored him after that.
I mean if you are upset that other people are alive and breathing and driving, get off my roads. And quit making everyone nervous because you and your expensive car are SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT than the rest of us.
Sure enough, when the light changed, he floored it and cut off about five people.
My standard reaction is to just say, “Bless his idiot heart.” It works in traffic, in stores, when watching reality TV, and on phone calls when people try to be smartasses and try to get your goat.
I get their game. Homey ain’t playin’ it.
This goat cannot be gotten. Sorry, drive through.
Bless your little idiot heart and may God get you out of my path sooner rather than later. With any luck, you won’t hurt yourself or anyone else on your merry way.
As my relaxation time was interrupted last night by the upstairs neighbor dropping cuss bombs and stomping around like a 2-year-old (he’s my age), something occurred to me.
I’ve been focusing on getting out of South Florida. But the truth is, I am perfectly fine and happy here. It’s people like HIM who need to hit the bricks, not me.
It’s been chilly lately. I ran down to Senor Burrito for takeout last night and it was 63 degrees. I was in a summer dress and flip-flops and my lone hoodie and I was COLD.
Picture me back up north in the snow. Go on. Remember how many times I fell on my ass on the ice because I will only wear dress boots with my dresses. Keep in mind I am short and pants never fit right so it’s skirts or bust.
Yeah. Not pretty.
So, it was an interesting moment for me. My idea of escape is to REALLY escape. Like, “turning in my citizenship card” escape. When all I really need is a big fat reprieve from shitheads.
Is there such a thing? Because, that’s got to be my goal. Not running away from what makes me happy. Because, believe it or not, I am generally a happy and lucky soul. You only get to hear about the shitheads here. And I’m really tired of giving them airtime.
I’m going to take a break from playing “Space Oddity” because my machine is old and horks every time I want to fire up YouTube.
But rather than talk about how all our heroes are dying off not just in threes, but seemingly in three clusters of threes, I started thinking about how I keep my shit together. (Albeit loosely and not by any organized person’s definition of the term.)
1. Always keep tweezers in the car. That’s the only time you have a mirror at eyebrow level.
2. Keep floss in your purse. I used to use business cards but I don’t have any anymore because this company doesn’t send me to conferences. I like grains and seeds too much not to have a bag of Plackers from the dollar store.
3. Nail polish works at work. I don’t use it anymore now that I actually have people around me again. But it’s the only time I am chained to a chair and could let the polish dry without goofing it up because I sit on my feet all the time.
4. Ain’t no shame in screw-top wines. Or cardboardeaux, for that matter. Who the hell are you trying to impress anyway?
5. Don’t worry about sleeping in your makeup. I accidentally washed my face with toothpaste the other day. Which, I don’t recommend. BUT … wow did it tighten my pores right up. It isn’t overly effective in preventing tooth cavities, but I’m pretty sure my nasal cavity sealed right up.
Now I’m going to go listen to some Bowie, Weiland and Lemmy because it would be a sacrilege not to.
We all know 2015 was not my year. But I wonder if I’ll look back upon it as an easy year.
I do have to say that I don’t have to move. Now that the violence upstairs is gone, I could live with the late night shenanigans of the new guy. That’s because the rest of the day is pretty calm.
I’m not a fan of the people who congregate under my window late at night with their unleashed mutts that don’t get along. But at least I’m not on the first floor. That poor (nice) guy has more right to be upset than I do.
But I still think staying is worse than leaving. Big fan of a clean slate. The only way you can hit the reset button on command is by moving. I mean, why stay where it’s tolerable when there’s the chance of enjoyment elsewhere?
It’s not just the new scenery that gives me hope. It’s the realization I have two months left to enjoy what is. And I am.
I love the convenience of my location to stores and Starbucks. I appreciate it now. Finally. Which was the reason I wanted to be here in the first place.
I think that’s the lesson I need to learn right now. Appreciating what you have. And who you have, too. Which I’m not so good at but I resolve to try harder there, too.
I’m grateful for the chance to keep trying to get it right.
It was a bonfire night in Lake Worth. I used to love these. Now, like anything in South Florida, it’s just another thing I do that I wonder if I can live without.
They have this guy who isn’t a great singer who also doesn’t have an ounce of showmanship. I love it when he takes breaks (every three songs) and puts on pop radio.
Of course he does sing good songs from “my” era. And he gave me a throwback last night.
“When I say out loud I want to get out of this
I wonder is there anything I’m going to miss.”
— Third Eye Blind, “How’s It Gonna Be”
It was a busy week. I like those. They distract from what’s not important. Like social media and other things that I’ve allowed to take up precious time that have had a low to nonexistent ROI.
Busyness also takes me away from what is important. Which, if my life has a theme, that’s it in a nutshell.
Staring at the fire, I remembered one of my last in-person conversations with someone. He said he missed me and I said, “Do you really?”
He pretended not to hear or understand. I didn’t repeat myself. Or say it back.
“I don’t see lightning like last fall
When it was always about to hit me.”
I don’t have a point here. I just have such a list of ideas and dreams and plans. And then you get stuck in your routine and you find things to pass the time that weren’t on your list.
Some people, like my parent friends, revel in the “somedays.” When the kid goes to college. When the spouse retires. When the parents leave them their inheritance. Then life will be what they wanted.
I envy my friend who reinvents herself every year. Always a new career or hobby or certification or dream trip. She ain’t waiting for nothing or nobody.
I don’t know how she does it. But she takes leaps and the world pulls out the safety net to catch her. And if she gets bored, no worries. She will be or do something else by this time next year anyway.
And that is my plan for the new year. Do what I want. So I can do something else. Enjoy what works until I don’t or it doesn’t. Fill the void until there isn’t one. But don’t be too quick to fill it because there has to be room for whatever should be there, whenever it comes along.
Simple, right?
Ever have a conversation with someone and wish you were on a reality show so you could look at the camera and say, “Did you hear that?” Or more aptly, “Dude, this is gif-worthy.”
Sometime after I realized I wasn’t winning Powerball (no one did. The jackpot is up to $675 million now), I got the idea to move into a seasonal rental. Something furnished. Even better, something temporary that goes away when the snowbirds return.
Even if people don’t like my ideas or me, or even if my ideas don’t work out, I’m going to keep having them. Maybe one of them is going to lead to a jackpot of a different kind.
I told the team on our morning call that my to-do list consists of little more than winning the $400 million Powerball tonight.
And I may have been more than a little pleased that everyone said I’ll still be at work tomorrow even with mega-millions in my name.
Honestly, I am glad people see that I like what I do. I get to hide behind a computer. I get to NOT use a phone other than for conference calls. (OMG I hate the phone. Hate it.) I get to crack the whip when needed and otherwise just do fun stuff I am kind of good at.
I even have the dream team. Except for one. I mean who takes 30 days’ vacation in 90 days’ time?
With $400 million to take care of mom’s health and get my car fixed and to go buy a house and all houses within a five-mile radius so I don’t have to deal with neighbors anymore, I’ll be the happiest asshole on the planet.
Of course I’d come back to work. I’d need something else to do other than counting my blessings!
I was all dressed up and ready to leave the house for work today. And then the train took off and I am still talking and typing from my bed 10-ish hours later. With no end in sight.
It’s all good.
I cracked the whip all over the place today and I think it hit me in the head a few times. Without getting into it too deeply, I’m sick of the “tummy-ache twins.”
If there’s a deadline or a problem or whatever, they get a tummy-ache. One will give you the excuse the second you ask (and you ALWAYS have to ask), and the other will wait four days to say he had a boo-boo but he’s all better now.
I had the metaphorical “doormat” tattoo removed over the holiday. You want mummy to give you Vapo-Rub? Tough titty, said the kitty.
We’ll see how long they last.
I have said this phrase one million times in my life: I will kiss your ass till I have to kick it.
Well, Mummy’s got some new boots and she ain’t afraid to use ’em.
Also, it’s too cold for flip-flops right now. Maybe that’s a good thing. For all of us.
My Monday morning project is postponed to Tuesday this week. So that’s a good feeling. But it’s bigger than that.
My realtor is already on the lookout for my next house. Not to say I won’t end up with the fourth dud in a row. (I remember loving my last three apartments in Alexandria/Rockville, so it isn’t just me.) But, you know, it’s a step out if not forward.
There’s probably more wrong than right in my world. But I am looking at it the opposite way. I have more blessings than I can notice. So I’m going to start really seeing them and appreciating them more.
I half-assed did the 100 Happy Days challenge last year. I got to day 14 when the Thundercunts moved out and I figured all was going to be well. I assumed wrong.
But I can make the days good. Just as long as I don’t hide in my work like usual and let all the promise of each day go to pot when I get home and get lost in the Housewives episode/season du jour. Which, given how early I have to get up for tomorrow’s project, is sounding pretty likely at this point.