Okay, I'm going to a shrink. I just was popping out a vivarin out of that tin-metal crap they come in. I mean, I was looking intensely at it because I'm sleepy and it's my new Messiah for now.....I pop it out and realize I am going to drop it and you know what, I do.
And guess what? I'm not quick enough & it's already gonna hit the ground. And guess what? It disappears before it hits the carpet. Holy Bon-Bons! What the heck!
I have scoured the whole floor in my cube and it's nowhere to be found. Has that ever happened to you? Wait, is that a song I know?? Oh, yes, it is: the X-Files theme is playing in my cube. Weird.
Are you organized? If so, you suck. FYI.
I'm sure you're mom told you that you were the best but I'm not your mom and I ain't gonna lie. Peace.
What�s in your closets? Hmm. Probably clothes blankets, towels, and shoes. Normal folk things. Ya'll know I got a screw loose.
Um, I have those normal folk things, but I also have some very unusual items in some weird places. Two that stick out the most are the bedroom closet and front room closet.
In my bedroom closet, I have these sheets, and these mid-east looking fuchsia pillows my mother made a year or so before I was born. Oh, and my Navy uniforms that I wore eons before. Oh, a utility extension cord. It�s orange. My Navy and what-was-my-life-before-it-box. Some cable wire. 15 pairs of shoes I never wear but can�t get rid of. My September 11th box, that I compiled for my daughter. Magazines from 1997 so I can make a scrapbook for Jackie. Uh, a utility blanket that I used to cover my head during tornado warnings, my all weather band radio and catalogues to read in case I get trapped in there in addition to some white wire hedging for my garden that I can�t use anymore.
My front closet: shoes that I do wear, a leather jacket that�s too small that my dad gave me, wrapping paper, Monopoly, dryer sheets, birdseed, snow-salt, my garden shears, potting soil and oh, let me not forget:
My hatchet. Or shall I call it my war-path having, blood-letting, razor-sharp self-defense weapon that my dad lovingly made for me so I won�t be scared of burglar nor boogeyman ever again. It�s pretty scary looking.
I cannot say this stuff is organized in a reasonable fashion. I mean, the birdseed is amongst my shoes and the snow salt is in the corner underneath the garden shears and potting soil.
By the way, I�ve been getting dirty looks from the birds lately. I'm not Mary Poppins but I thought I'd get some gratitude but instead I'm getting bird poop on my sidewalk and car.
I�m the birdseed lady after all. I refuse to fill the feeder but once every two days because I�d have to buy seed once a week. One of my neighbors said that the birds wouldn�t come straight up to the house to the feeder because it�s too close. But the empty feeder tells me otherwise.
I�m sitting outside the other night and this big fat gray dove swoops down from nowhere and lands on the large brown rock I have in the middle of the garden.
He looks up at the empty feeder and then back at me like, �Can�t a bird get some seed around here? Salt of the earth, we are. Having to forage for worms in grass where your pets doo-doo. Having to drink muddy river water. Oh, and then I gotta worry about cats and eagles. I mean, for Chrissake bitch, will ya just fill up my feeder? Will ya? Can�t a bird get a break around here..."
Grey Dove did a lot of head bobbing so it wasn�t hard to see the emotions he was feeling. Yo, I feel you pain, bird. Slow ya roll...
This dove had personality. I finally went inside and got the birdseed. I�m a sucker for animals. Darn. I didn�t see him when I came out so I guess he flew away, scared by my sudden movement. I don�t know if he came back, but maybe next time he�ll get a squirt from the water hose if he gives me any more lip.
Oblivia had the nerve to ask me, someone who�s never been in her apartment, to watch her two little terrors while she�s going to get her oil changed at Valvoline.
Um, first, the kids are covered head to toe in mud from jumping in puddles. I steam cleaned my carpets last weekend. I don�t think so. I�ll stay outside.
Well, 2nd, when I get my oil changed, Jackie�s in the backseat and goes into the shop with me when it�s time. Why can�t you take your kids who don�t listen to you much less anyone else?
Which leads me to number three. Your kids don�t respect authority, don�t mind you ever, mouth of at you frequently, run off with no warning and you gotta chase them and you EXPECT ME TO WATCH THEM FOR HOW LONG? Oh no she didn�t!
Oh, sorry, Oblivia, I gotta go take a shower. Why don�t you go, like, quickly and we�ll just stay out here but you boys gotta mind. They look at me like; �we don�t give a shit�. Charming.
Well, as if to illustrate my concerns, Blabbly, a whole four years old went running down the sidewalk at full speed. And the seven-year-old, Snotsy, a budding serial killer to be, chases him with a big stick. Oh, nope, don�t think so. Hmm. Now very busy, sorry. Don�t know if I got the time.
Well, I would�ve if she would�ve been really hard up. I mean, I do have a heart. But I waited for like a half an hour and she didn�t come back. I had to take a shower and she was wasting my time. Later! I go inside. If she can�t do it on my time she can take them with her.
Lisa came by. We gossiped viciously, get over it. I love her lots. I was really tired but she was okay with me being so out of it. She just came to say hi, is all.
We talked about Rufus, her tortured soul-man. I don�t think she knows that I care about him a lot, but he just scares me. I mean, it�s like um, uh, animals at the zoo. You can love them from afar, you feed em, maybe touch them with 25 ply gloves on, you just don�t get too close cause after all it is a wild animal. Rufus is a tiger.
He�s got a lot of anger inside, and I identify with it. Maybe it�s just not a good thing for people with as much baggage as we do to be together.
Rufus just feels like he gets the big stiffy out of life. Like, he�s always getting the crappy end of the deal.
Life is what you make it.
I might be tired, but I will go on living my life with joy. It�s the only way, baby. It�s the only way because if you spend your life saying �Why me� you miss the important life changing things because you�re always focused on the negative. Even my tired ass knows that.
I�m wacky, disorganized and despised by a few. It�s official.
12:57 p.m. - 2003-05-15
Recent entries:
What you missed - January 16, 2012
%%older_entries%%From hell - October 19, 2010
%%older_entries%%a rant from a few weeks ago - August 17, 2010
%%older_entries%%Tired - June 20, 2010
%%older_entries%%A beautiful lie - March 11, 2010
%%older_entries%%
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
bluemeany
idontpretend
whinerwoman
flicka
kungfukitten
awittykitty
artofliving
thegrapevine
trancejen
chicagojo
ingridwrites
bettyford
myexodus
janie12975
vickithecute
drahmaqueen
ruachadonai
bipolarchild
thedetails
irisheyes70
sunshine0221
sallydallydo
allykitty5
dragprincess
tuckandsophi
taken-by-you
pajamamama
soulstyce
biodtl
thedevlyn
erianne1
jackprague78
r-y-r
nimiiwin
wifemotherme
boxx9000
poolagirl
marlen816
wilberteets
mom-on-roof
mpeacock
arianstar
thecrankyone
kayemess
amblus