Hoooooray! Today I paid off a loan that I’ve had for almost 3 years!
Not really. Sometimes, a small glimpse of something in my life makes me feel really stupid about my worries. There’s a house on my way home from Mickey’s. It’s inbetween the pizza place and the notorious “crack house”. There’s a man that lives there with a motion-sensitive light outside his front door. He’s in a wheelchair. [this is going to get kinda long] I’d like to consider myself very different from the people that “feel sorry for the handicapped”. I have worked with people who were unable to live by themselves, I have a friend whose dad uses a stick in his mouth to type and send email, I learned Braille to simply communicate with someone I worked with. So, I’m walking home, all pissed off that a shift was taken from someone but her work was not replaced to cover Thursday night (making Kurt work an extra 2+ hours) and I see this guy getting into his house, with a motorized wheelchair and a dog with a red saddle-looking thing. This is immediately identifiable as one of the dogs you shouldn’t pet, by the way. Just because it was taking him longer to unlock his door and maneuver his way inside, I stopped. I wanted to ask if he needed help. He got in just fine. I feel stupid. Not for wanting to help, because that’s inherently in my nature, but for thinking that he may need help (and stopping, subsequently); like he’s never done this before. So I’m walking home, thinking, “What can I do for this guy?” (after the fact!) like he even needs anything. I consider a holiday card with a call to action incase he needs a grocery shopper, or a ride somewhere. Then I realize he probably has what he needs or else he wouldn’t have gotten this far in his life. So, again, I’m a moron who feels unneccessarily responsible. I think we should all take this moment to consider our state and realize that it’s indisputably minor compared to anything else we could be dealing with. Perhaps you already have. Perhaps I belong on the short bus.
Well, I made it through the meeting. It was very productive and nice to be a party to. Though my a*s is now draggin’. If I can pull myself away from my beautiful monitor, I’ll take a nap.. but that will make going to bed tonight altogether different.
My calendar says it’s going to be a full moon tonight, though it was very full last night. I never know if it means sometime after midnight on the 21st, or some time before midnight on the 21st. Which night is it? Regardless, I’m blaming my off mood on the moon. They almost rhyme.
disclaimer: this is not something that moms or family members want to read. So I’m at the bar last night, enjoying my time. Kurt got done early because Liz needed some hours. He’s sitting at the bar, chatting with a couple that we met at Dave and Mary’s “wedding party” about a month before Kurt and I got hitched. So, I know them what, 5 minutes? Anyhow, it’s almost time to go, so I go get Kurt. The second I arrive the couple (both!) turn to me and say, “Are you going to have kids?” Dammit! Who the f*ck are you? Why do I want to discuss /any/ of my future intentions with you, let alone my desire to have or not to have children? And why, all of a sudden in this age of single-mothers, does a marriage automatically mean children are right around the corner? Do you think before you talk? What if I’ve gone through a horrible disease and am not able to have children and do not want you asking me? What if Kurt is sterile and this is a sore topic? (none of the aforementioned is true, by the way) What if I just don’t know and I don’t want to talk to you about it? How do I say, “That is none of your business.” without sounding like a jacka*s? So here’s what happened. I said (my standard answer), “I don’t like kids.” *Immediately*, the male of the couple (whom I know has 2 teenagers), says, “Kids are awesome! I love them.. blahblahblahblah!” and the woman (not the mother of the teenagers), “Good for you! Kids are terrible. I have to deal with two teenagers every day! Blahblahblahblah!” This ensued for about 5 minutes when I finally said, “I’m going to go over there and sit down and not talk about children.” Why? That’s all I really want to know. I’m adding, to my list, children as one of the top four things you do not discuss with someone that you barely know. The other three are religion, politics, and abortion.
Though Kurt knows I don’t really care for movies, he suggested going out to see one last night. By the time I got home from work, I was completely exhausted so I tried to take a nap. I was wakened by the sound of banging dishes. He thought I was in the computer room, as opposed to sliding slowly (but not painlessly!) into dreamland. We decide to rent movies and get a pizza. It’s Trivia Tuesday down at Bongo Video. This means you get a free non-new-release if you answer a random trivia question correctly. I stayed home to wait for the food and Kurt went to get the movies. He brings back Shrek, The Salton Sea, and My First Mister. Knowing that he could watch whatever he wanted after I went to bed, we popped in My First Mister. This movie is possibly the worst thing I’ve ever seen, aside from Zoolander. Poor (sad, not lacking in monitary status), spiteful, gothic girl with piercings and tattoos sheds her hardware (a little too quickly) to get a job at some men’s clothing mall-store. Her boss, who took kindly to her (also a bit quickly), is an anal-retentive magazine-addicted loner. They make friends. She falls in love with him (red light! red light! she’s 17, he’s 48? (my stomach is turning.) He passes out while jogging. We turn the DVD off. It’s probably the first time I’ve actively stopped watching a movie with no intention of ever seeing the end. As you can see, I /do not/ recommend it.
Unless you’re over 60, no one should be. I got home from hanging out with Kelli, Adam and Joan at 1:15 and immediately fell into bed. I woke up just now with my nose and toes almost frozen off. Which means our furnace just got turned back on for the winter. It smells kind of “old”. But it sucks because the thermostat is in the living room (which is the sunniest and warm room in the house) leaving the bedrooms and bathroom to be continuously cold. And another thing. If you work 3rd shift and live on the first floor under someone who probably doesn’t, (you know this because you’ve lived here for over a year) don’t play your f*cking music so loud at 5:30a. I can’t sleep in my bed because I don’t share the same schedule with aforementioned neighbor. I can’t sleep in Kurt’s bed cuz his room is an ice cube and I can’t sleep on the couch because there’s a Kurt there.
So, yea.. I’m staying home from work today. I can’t really afford it, but I wasn’t feeling well when I woke up. I’m actually doing a lot better now. Some hot food is cooling for me and then I should be all rejuvenated. Another note, a site I actually spent time on today was Whats Her Face?
RUh-Roh Shaggy. Looks like the illness infesting my house isn’t confined here at all. I left work today at 1 to come home and sleep. Kurt’s still in bed, but that’s cuz he has to work tonight. I got all mentioned ‘n sh*t in my friend’s blog
Sites I find myself frequently visiting while at work: orisinal.com