Can you believe she is so close to such a big dog? Charlie (in the corner) is not in trouble, he is just very squirmy and that's where he ended up. This was a feat, let me tell you.
Yay, Riley! We start the advanced class on Monday. There's normally a week off, but I would rather have class on a weeknight. It sounds like it's gonna be fun.
When will I learn not to start a load of laundry until the dryer is clear? I assume that everyone operates on a timer.
So here I am after my hour of productivity. Kitchen's clean, laundry's mildewing in the washer (grrrr), and things are being put away. I was surprised to see that an hour had passed, thanks to a Cake cd.
The bricks and mortar
Have all given way
At first they resisted,
But then they began to sway
Nowadays, driving to Topaz is the only time I get to sing in the car, because that's how short my commute is. I have a one-song commute. Allow me to complain some more about my job. And actually, sometimes I don't go right home from the store or wherever. I'll just drive and drive so I can sing. You can't wail your lungs out in an apartment.
So as for this picture, I bought a big ass dog bed for Riley because I kept waking up to find her sprawled halfway off her bed onto the floor. These big, poufy beds were on clearance for a crazy price, so I brought one home. Riley loved it, but towards bedtime, found that Solo had claimed it. Riley sadly headed to the little bed that's too small for her. Tonight I bought another- to hell with it! They can both have the soft, poufy bed. Up front here in the living room is Riley, camped out on the bed before I could even put it where it goes. And way in the back, in my bedroom, curled up and content- having evicted Riley again- is Solo.
I think I just figured out how to post two pictures!
If this is my life forever, I will stick a fork in my eye.
Since that doesn't sound fun either, I will decide here and now that this will not be my life forever. No wonder people get bitter and lazy- I'm not even excited about weekends anymore. This would be a much better reference if I could remember the guy's name, but we'll call it The Na-Na Project until I can figure it out. Anyway, among this guy's many brilliant ideas was the suggestion that robots can do all the work and people should be free to explore the world and their creativity. Yes, yes, yes.
No, that doesn't exist yet, so in the meantime I must change jobs often to entertain myself and increase my pay grade. But Jesus God, the thought of spending 40 hours a week doing anything the government needs does not sound like a great deal to me. This is why I hate stability- because it is so flippin BORING.
I need a new job- I know that. Gimme me raise and I'll go find one. Today I only got about 70 calls in, thanks to some very talkative problem children. But really, it was a good thing. I helped a lot of people today. I left them feeling like their problems had been resolved or at least addressed. I got called a sweetheart. One guy was in tears as he told me I was the kindest person he'd spoken to. He did not provide a time frame for that compliment.
Earlier I thought: Jeez, only 70 calls? Now I realize that it's still a lot- especially for a Thursday. I would not have recognized that if not for writing this. And I am kind. Even to the exasperating people. Even though I may throw my hands up because they can't see me, I still try hard to help them, and sometimes I win them over.
I have made friends in Specialty- the department we have much trouble with. I try to help them. They recognize that, and they appreciate and acknowledge my efforts. How nice is that?
Lately I've been going in early to catch up on training, and that makes for long days. There isn't much time for fun or relaxation at home, because I need to make my lunch, lay out clothes, and go to bed early. It feels like I accomplish nothing.
But I have a strategy tonight: I will set the timer.
I bought a $5 foot long for dinner, so half of that is ready for lunch tomorrow.
It's laundry night.
I have a guest coming in less than a week.
Motivation is about doing whatever works to accomplish the goal. Why do I work harder if the timer's on? Who knows? Who cares.
It must be past 6:30, because Riley is making little whiny noises. You ha five minutes to get the animals fed. The clock starts... now.
Sometimes I wake up in this weird new life and I'm mad that I'm alone.
Yes, I'm aware of how retarded that is. Everyone IS alone, already or eventually, and alone shouldn't have to mean lonely. I know these things, but logic plays little part in emotions. I get mad that I focused so much on the boys- I was set on us caring for each other forever- how could I have ended up alone?
I drove past a billboard for the monster truck show. I got excited at first- I can finally go! But then I wondered who would go with me. This is a show to take the family to. It's fun and silly and completely overdone. I would be a third wheel (Fifth wheel? No, that's a camper thing, right?) and no, I don't want to take Ant. I want to take my family- the one I don't have anymore. Things are separate between Ant and I now. This is a show for families to take their kids to.
Really, now monster trucks are going to make me sad? No... maybe a little melancholy. But then I find myself baking banana bread in my little kitchen. I am not annoyed by the lack of counter space. I am smelling smooshed ripe bananas and vanilla. I am finding all my measuring spoons where they are supposed to be. Things belong where I decide they do, and it all makes perfect sense to me. There is no need to compromise.
I listen to exactly the music I want, changing the cd out in the middle of a song when the impulse strikes. I watch the movies not as they come in, but in a shuffled order as my instinct suggests. Sometimes I think there will be a movie night when there is not. Sometimes I don't listen and watch the wrong movie. When I get it right, there is a message or some truth I find that buoys me for days. It's quiet enough here that I can listen.
I am impatient to find a duvet cover so I can curl up in my soft, comfy bed under a poufy, warm, pretty comforter. I bought a new (slightly mangled on clearance) anti-fatigue rug for my kitchen that is larger and less of a trip hazard. It is printed to look woven in reds and oranges.
I found pretty little cat bowls at the thrift store and a soft, fuzzy, antimicrobial dog bed on clearance. I bought pretty little earrings at Claire's.
My bills are paid. I am building up savings and paying down my credit cards. I am not living above my means.
I am alone and smelling banana bread. My refrigerator is the only noise and I like it. I'm good.
Before I forget- because I'm still running around and likely won't stop for hours- I went to Macy's to look for a comforter and remembered to smell Chanel No. 5. I read this article about the perfect scent and there were some really neat things about this "gold standard of perfumes."
"[Coco] Chanel wanted a perfume that was clean but sexy, that blended the sultry notes of jasmine and May rose with the smell of soap and fresh-scrubbed skin." Ernest Beaux, the perfumer, "had fallen in love with the scent of fresh snow melting into Russia's famous 'black soil,' chernozem." And that was the goal for this scent.
Chanel No. 5 was made using aldehydes- new synthetic compounds that allowed Beaux to create a new scent rather that the standard practice of replicating existing scents. Out of the variations he presented, she liked numbers 5 and 22, and eventually chose No. 5. Other numbers- including 22- are still sold, but No. 5 is still the favorite. A bottle is sold somewhere in the world every 30 seconds. And it's $400 an ounce.
I figured I could find it at Macy's and had envisioned having to endure snotty looks from the perfume lady, but nobody was there and the Chanel testers were sitting out on a special stage on the counter. I sniffed the bottle, but couldn't smell anything, so I sprayed it on my left wrist. Cough. I am overwhelmed by the smell of old lady.
I picked up another bottle that looked different, but still said No. 5. I sprayed that on my right wrist. WAY too much. Old lady.
Now all I need is a fur coat and lipstick running out the wrinkles in my lip outline. Dismayed, I left the women's Macy's store and headed over to the men's/housewares Macy's and found a killer deal on a comforter, so that me feel better.
Now it's several hours later and I am less offended by the scent. I still don't think this one's mine, but I am kind of intrigued by it. I can't tell if I like it or not. I don't think I do- not enough to wear it- and I wish this had been it, because I was sold when I read that it's supposed to smell like dirt. Have you smelled really good dirt? Crayola made a crayon that smelled like dirt and they got it really close. I don't know what black soil smells like, but I bet it's awesome. I can smell the jasmine and I can also smell the soap. It does smell clean, but also with something sultry. Weird. Different. I don't know.
Somebody's taking over my job of crying in the bathtub.
At dog class yesterday, the instructor asked us to work on problems specific to our dogs. They asked me to work on Riley's socialization. I was sent down the main aisle and I did that a couple times, baffled, until I figured out that I had to ask people to greet Riley. Oh shit- I have to socialize.
Don't you hate it when you're busy working on what you think is a random problem in your life only to discover that IT'S ALL RELATED!? And while you might be perfectly aware of the main problem, sometimes you'd like to put that away for a short while and deal with a lighter problem. But no! It's all connected to that main problem that is too big to tackle and you'd have no idea where to start, anyway.
The instructor suggested I come to the store sometimes for a ten minute meander or over to the Home Depot across the street. "The more she gets out, the better she'll get at socializing." Yes, but what about Riley?
Ha ha sigh... Well, fine, I guess they pegged my dog and- unintentionally- me, but how neat that I have an easy way to meet people built into this cute little dog of mine? This class is giving me some very clear directions on how to practice socializing Riley with the side benefit of socializing me. So that's how to fix the big problems- practicing the seemingly easy fixes for the small problems. Big fat kudos to me for signing up for the class in the first place. See, I knew it would be good for us both- I just had no idea how far those benefits could reach.
