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2.12.2010

Day 80-bazillion of mandatory PTO

That's right folks.  I'm STILL on PTO.  But at this point?  I don't mind it so much.  Do you have any idea how long the human body is capable of laying motionless on a couch?  Psh.  And y'all say I don't have goals...

Today's the pre-cursor to that so-called holiday that retailers love and consumers get sucked into.  Oh yeah, and the day where people get all kissy-faced and stupid.  That's right, I just called some of you stupid.  Not all the time, but seriously, you know on this one day you are.  Deal with it.

What was I talking about?  Oh right.  So pre-cursor, because the monkey has the valentine's day party at school, which means last night we had to do the cards, which aren't really cards, they are really just ring pops with stickers on it that have her classmates names on them.  Candy with a personal touch.  Score when you're three.

That's not the point though.  The point was that since she has this party today, we had to sign up to bring something.  And I signed up for sandwiches.  Silly, silly me.  At the time, I thought that would be simple.  I'd go to some grocery store and pick up a party plate of sorts with sandwiches.  They totally sell those, right?  So this morning on our way to the daycare (which I was in no hurry to get to because I had no where to be except for couch-laying training) we veered off our normal course to hit up our friendly neighborhood grocery chain.

And this is where the sandwiches are no longer part of the story.  Mostly I just wanted to relate we were in the car on the way to daycare this morning for longer than usual.  That probably would have been easier to say, huh?  And in case you're now committed to the sandwiches part, I couldn't find any damn sandwiches, intead I got those kits of random meat, crackers, and cheeses.  Lunch-ables on 'roids, basically.

In the car.  Longer than usual.  So the monkey had time to engage in some play with whatever random smattering of toys that have managed to breed from her bedroom into my car (do NOT EVEN get me started on that).  Today's offspring included a beanie baby tie dye teddy bear (really?  tie dye?  why hasn't someone put that on the list of things that should be buried in a time capsule and forgotten about?  like glitter).  So she's talking to the bear, I'm only half paying attention because I'm listening to the Grammy performance of Lady Gaga and Elton John on my ipod (awesomeness) (the performance, not the ipod) (I mean, the ipod's ok, but....ugh, never mind).  When suddenly I catch the conversation and realize my daughter is talking about the fake bear pooping.

I'm no child psychologist, but WTF?  Is my kid really having the 3 year old conversation equivalent to 'Do bears shit in the woods?'  And more importantly, which side of that conversation is SHE on?

Out of curiousity when I got home, I googled 'toddler talking about bear pooping' (you heard the part about me being off work for like the gazillionth day in a row right?  okay then, stop judging me) and got this (click on the word 'this.'  it don't show up to good with the current layout. guess I should fix that, huh?).

My mind is literally blown.  Also, mine should get here between 5-7 business days.

2.09.2010

NOT why I live here

The weather.  More specifically, the cold weather.  I'm not a fan.  Which is why I live in South Texas, where winter generally only lasts a few days/weeks, and we only know its happening because it's cloudy.  So when you're telling me we're going to have a crap load of days that are in the 30's, that's no bueno.

So I haven't been running.  Externally I'm blaming it on the cold weather.  Internally I know it's because I'm a bit depressed.  I'm not happy with the way things are going at work, and not knowing where things will stand on Thursday is not helping.  And unfortunately, that's really all I can say on that for now.  Even though there is BOAT LOADS more.  Ugh.  Maybe THAT'S why I'm really depressed.  Because I have so many things that are being pent up inside of me and I can't even use this as an outlet.  Stupid interweb with all your easy accessibility and super defined search engines.

The nice thing about this job change thing though is that it gives me an opportunity to figure out what I want to do in/with my life.  I've had plenty of time the last few days to sit and ponder the epic question 'if you could do one job, what would it be?'  And you know what my answer is?  I DON'T HAVE ONE.  There are so many things I want to do, or be, or experience, that I don't have just one job I feel like I can pick over all the others.  Sometimes I'm completely inspired by So Mellifluous that I want to go into music therapy.  And then other times I'm watching House and think I could completely handle the medical field.  Or I read a facebook update by a friend who is directing band at a school and I want to get back into that.  Or I go to Sea World and think I should go into marine biology.  Could I possibly be more random?  Here I am, literally weeks away from starting my life over again, a gift of sorts, and I got nothing.  Granted, I only figured out a few days ago that I WAS starting my life over again, but still.  Shouldn't I have this figured out already?  I'm freaking 29 years old and I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

Well now.  That doesn't have anything to do with the weather, now does it?

2.06.2010

I have to be, without any doubt in my mind, the most BORING person ever.  I'm here, staring at this blank page, after having a beautiful Saturday during which I would think to myself, 'ooooh, that would be GREAT to blog about.'  And now?  Nothing.  Nuh. Thing.  And I'm completely bored with the inane topics I'm trying to force upon the few of you that happen to stumble upon this thing...

Maybe that's the problem.  Writing for others instead of myself?  Wow.  That took a turn I was not expecting.  Delving into the inner workings of who do I write for.  I've taken a few minutes to toss that around in my head for a second, and I'm not sure that anyone can honestly answer that as anything other than for someone to read their words.  So that they can feel like their voice matters, even if it is to some 12 year old boy in the middle of Malaysia.  Anyone who says they write on a blog for themselves is full of shit.  Send them to me.  I'll argue them into submission.

What was I saying?  Oh right.  BOR-ING.  So why bother?  Mostly because I'm hoping I'll be inspired.  I'm hoping at some point the word vomit will evolve into something of shape rather than the mass ramblings of a crazy person.

Has that happened yet?  Nope.

Today was the first day of my five day weekend, so THAT was exciting.  Except I think the magnitude of everything that is happening is finally beginning to hit me and my head felt a leeeeettle bit like there were tiny flies inside hammering with tiny metal mallets on my nerve endings.  And the back of my eyeballs.  AND as exciting as I claim the day to be, we didn't. do. shit.  We attempted to, but were promptly thwarted.  There is a park that everyone is telling me would be great for pictures, so I loaded up the monkey and the gear and away we went.  We get there, and you'll never guess who was snoring like a trucker in the backseat.  Despite my best attempts to wake her up, it was not gonna happen.  So we drove home.  I brushed my hair and put on a bra and pants for nothing.  It was a gorgeous day though.  It really is a shame we weren't able to shoot a bit.  Tomorrow the monkey spends the day with her dad, so no pictures for me.

BUT.  That does mean that I can go for a run, which I haven't been able to do for awhile (thank you very much crappy weather).  My mileage this week is ├╝ber low.  But I'm not too worried about it at the moment.  I had, so far, signed up for two events, and I've cancelled one of them.  The other one I'm not sure that I'll be able to do yet.  But that all relates to the thing I can't talk about publicly but would really, really, REALLY like to.  All in good time, my pretties....aaaaall in good time.

Where was I?  Oh right, the running.  And in rereading, I've discovered that's all I really had to say, so I can probably delete this part.  Will I?  Nope.

What else, what else....?

I got nothing.  Wait.  Where the hell did my spell check go?!

Changes

The last 48 hours have been a whirlwind of epic proportions. And of all the things there are to tell, and do, and unload about, I'm having a hard time figuring out where to even begin with it all. Or where to (figuratively) go from here.


I'm not entirely comfortable expressing myself about some of the things that are happening because it's not over yet, and to be honest there is really nothing I can write that would or could help the situation at all. So for the time being, the important thing to know is this: I'm rewriting my resume. And I have a mandatory five day weekend in which to do it.

How's that a firebomb of words that just about makes your head want to explode? Oh no wait. That's not your head. That's mine. How the hell am I supposed to update my resume while THAT'S going on?

So I'm just staring at this open document trying to just even figure out what address to put at the top. I thought that maybe by stopping by here for a quick dose of word vomit might help unblock the writer's....block... but not so much. Instead, all the things I'd love to be able to spew could be potentially harmful for events that need to happen in the very near future.

Awe. Some. NOW I have resume writer's block AND blog writer's blog. I'm pretty sure this is the epitome of a FML moment.