I'm sorry to remind myself. It started at the bottom and has sunk further. You see, when you're looking for a job and you don't have one...you can start to panic. It feels like you'll never again have another. I'm a perpetual job starter/quitter.
This weekend has flown by. Husband and I have made it a habit to ruin each other's weekend alternately by stating, generally on Saturday night, "Hey! Almost time to go back to work!" Heh. This weekend was his turn and he did so last night just before we fell asleep. Timing. Impeccable.
I kind of wanted to go to the KC Fringe Festival this weekend. There's a burlesque show at 5:30 today that I'd like to see.. I think it's "Sugar Puppy & the Lovely Dumplings." Part of me wants to be lazy because yesterday was so busy but I'd also like to get out and about.
I ate breakfast awhile ago. (Important Information right?) I had a semi-bizarre breakfast burrito. I sauteed some sticks of zucchini in a tad bit of olive oil with a pinch of salt and a pinch of cumin. I added those to scrambled eggs, added a bit of sharp cheddar then wrapped it up in a whole wheat tortilla with a spoonful of salsa. Very satisfying.
Where to begin. I could tell you everything but have you the time? If you do indeed have the time do you still want to hear it?
On Friday I packed up any personal belonging I had taken to work in a flurry of daydreams about never returning. Mostly I had stocked myself with enough music to carry me into a land where there are glimmers of hope ripe for the plucking. I don't plan to make good on the bet I had going with myself so I'm out a day of happiness if I so choose. These sentences keep tripping over themselves.
Today was a shower of babies as it seems it has been for months now. My goodness. I admit, there was a plethora of pink but splashed with a multitude of limey green. I had never held such a large bunch of balloons. They were heavy with light air that pulled up up up. She: My best friend. Baby: Nearly ripe for the plucking! It will be soon.
Schools days. Remember the talk of the way fresh sharpened pencils smell? Fall leaves that scuttle. Would I be trampled if I returned to school?
Our front porch was referred to as "an oasis" yesterday and for that I beam. sun beam. jesus don't want me for a sun beam. It has blossoms and leaves and spikes and vines that ache to hug you. Sit sit sit. It's been too long.
What to make of timing? What do you do if yours is always, always..most certainly less than impeccable. I said to him, in hopes of explaining, I'll tell you as well.. I don't know what to do. I mull it all over in my head intensely, frequently, for extended periods of time and when that's all said and done I'm left with my wheels spinning just above the pavement. I'm left still glassy eyed and wondering which way to go next. Be thankful I'm sparing you details. Paring it down. Seedy core is here with me. I did leave you with bits of the peel though. It has lots of vitamins. Eat it and stop your endless whimpering already.
This is the winery in Hermann, Missouri. Stone Hill. We went there several months ago. I don't think I ever showed you this one. Standing so neatly in a row.
We've finally established a connection again. I'm tempted to publicly admonish SBC but I won't. Or, I did.
Anyway, I've developed a rather unhealthy fondness for "Hell's Kitchen" and now I'm going to go watch it. I think regular, non-cable TV should have way more cooking shows.
And, before I go.. In the past week, our cat disappeared for 7 solid days and then returned, brandishing his brand new scar/s. He was even skinny but he's back now and that's fantastic.
miss me?
of course not. I didn't miss you either.
Well, I'm here at the lovely and fantastic NKC Public Library 'cause our internet connection done broked. Damn it. I'm posting to tell you, whoever you are, (probably myself at some later date), "Hello!" I'm also searching the web and the faces of strangers for a new job. I am a pathological job hater. The worst part is having that sinking fear that perhaps it's incurable.
This is perhaps one of my favorite pictures from the day spent at my mom's, the farm I grew up on.
It's all a blur
I spent my lunch break today like nearly all the others that have come before it. I left work in a flurry of thankfulness and sped off to the local hospital down the street. I sought shade. I've somehow convinced myself that I'm the first to think of this. I make a wide circle through the parking lot. I merely blink when discovering that the only spots left are the ones open wide in the blazing sun like whores, oblivious to my awkward intrusion. But, when I find the oasis, a shady spot, I glide in and bump the curb in my eagerness. I hastily nestle down in my convection oven and hurry to find the page in my book. It's become the daily reprieve, my only escape. Thankfully, I am carried off to some remote location so far removed from my workplace.
It's a sick joke, my job.
