Tuesday of Overwhelming Jotness

I don’t like to stop.
That’s a thing.
I love to start knowing I can finish. Stopping and coming back is hard, especially when I can’t finish that time, either.

However, my schedule dictates that I must stop a lot and come back a lot and it’s very disturbing to me and I simply do not know how to talk myself into how it’s a good thing, because we hates it.

I told y’all this before, but I’m telling you again so you’ll know how serious this is for me. If you have mastered the mindset of long-term projects that stop and start and start and not on your own terms, you must tell me any secrets to your success.

If it makes you crazy, too, you can tell me. This is a safe-ish space.

Because this is me, doing anything, and being interrupted by anything, losing my shit. Right now I’m in a place of only hot irons. I honestly find myself highly adaptable and fluid, but for the love of puppies, can I just get one, single, solitary freakin thing done?

*stops to eat her goat cheese pizza*


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If You Want to Enjoy My Sweater


So, last month, Drew showed up in this thick duster, kinda woolly, a muddled mix of popcorn and knit, heavy on texture. I loved it, cept it was predominantly black and so I told her I loved it and she thanked me and then I batted my lashes and asked her, “Do you recall, did they have this sweater in other sorta Joey-friendly colors?”
“Actually, yes, there was a cream one with blues.”
“May I see the label please?”
She graciously consented.

I went home and Googled said sweater.
And it was sold out online.
I no could order sweater.
Well fuck a duck.
I really liked that sweater.

Because I am such a good mom, I took heed the pleas of my daughters who needed — neeeeeeeded to spend their Target gift cards and eat Homophobic chicken. Friday I left work RIGHT BY THE FREAKIN TARGET and HOMOPHOBIC CHICKEN to drive all the way home, pick them up and drive all the way back.

They’ve got goat cheese pizza at Target, you know. And they have fruit and Skinny Pop and ice cream and coffee and spaghetti and bread and ground beef and cheese and and and I did all my shopping at Target Friday instead of going to the goddamned grocery store.

They also had MY SWEATER. The very last one was in my size.



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I Almost Forgot to Jot!

We got snow!
Real snow!
Hours and hours of snow!
I dunno how many inches. Plenty.
Some things were canceled.


Relaxing at home was NOT canceled. It was perfect!



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SoCS — Just Jot Art

I find arts are deeply personal and are therefore a subject of preference. Now and again I’m awed to discover not everyone likes _____________  — twinkly lights, doors, Shakespeare! I’m frequently mistaken in assuming there are certain things we all agree on, a canon of arts so to speak, and despite the fact that my mother taught me the dangers of assumption long ago, despite the fact that I don’t understand the hype over Harry Potter, Thomas Kinkade, or Elvis, I’ve yet to learn.

A friend of mine once photographed all her objets, typing out their origins and sentimental value, a kind of inventory of the things one carries, if you will. If your things don’t have stories, why do you still carry them? If they have stories, why wouldn’t you share them?

We all do like a good story, RIGHT?!?


Stream of Consciousness Saturday and Just Jot It January are brought to you by LindaGHill


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DJ Battles

On Friday nights, we usually play musics. To be clear, I usually play musics, but sometimes people don’t vibe on my selection and we end up sorta battling. Y’all should feel sorry for me because trap music, bops, ballads, and worse yet, power ballads. Lawd.

Sassy’s deeeeep into an 80s thing lately, and I swear I hear Billie Jean and Toto’s Africa every day lately. I forgive her because she likes Wham! and she asks for Blue Monday.

Also, people in my house listen to Never Gonna Give You Up without ironic intention. In fact, half the time, I bet they do it to torture me.

The Mister still listens to the radio so he’s still a hep cat. I, on the other hand, do not. Okay, sometimes Q95, which is classic rock, but not mostly. Thus, I am destined to soon be listening to my version of the golden oldies because without young people around, how will I even know what’s current? I’ll be listening to nothing newer than 2022. That’s what happens, right? Maybe one of the young people will take pity on me and send me the latest tunes. Bubba and Sassy could do that. They know what I like. Not that they truly care, but they know.

None of this would be happening to me if MTV was still MTV. I’m just sayin.

My selection today stirred up some controversy in our household. No one here preferred the original, sorry Original Guy. Yes, yes, the piano in Johnny Rivers is brilliantly funky, but this is my blog and this is MY favorite version. I blame the Less Than Zero soundtrack. Which means I also prefer the Bangles version of Hazy Shade of Winter.

If you have to get the flu, get the Boogie Woogie Flu.


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#ThursdayDoors — Rescue Doors

Not too long ago, sometime during the busy scurry time of December, the boy one graduated from graduate school. We drove the drive and sat in the arena and when the ceremony was over, I fled from the milling and mingling and walked around the surrounding streets. Most people thought it was too cold to walk around looking for doors, but I was in my element. It was cold and blustery, I was alone for a good 15 minutes, no talky talky, and I got some doors!


#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link and find the frog.

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I Tried to Sell Shakespeare

This morning, Moo told me she’s begun reading Romeo and Juliet. I asked her if she thinks she has a good grasp on it. She said she doesn’t care because she doesn’t like Shakespeare. I gasped. I tried to sell Shakespeare.
“Really? Is he too brilliant for you?”
“I guess.”
“But Moo, he made up words, just like you!”
“We still use them all the time!”

On and on I blathered.
Shit English majors say.
Nothing I said got more than a polite nod.
A polite nod to Shakespeare.

My parents tried to sell me word games, good-for-you cookies, golf, gardening, coasters, music, auto racing, doing the dishes immediately, tact, arts n’ crafts, getting my hair out of my face, cooking and baking, waiting for marriage, love of travel, thyme, bird watching, hot weather, weak coffee, and something called “saving”???

Eh, ya win some, ya lose some.

And you?



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A Not Too Shabby Tuesday

As many of you know, Tuesday is my least favorite of all the days of the week. Jilly went and looked up superstitions about Tuesdays for me, and now I need to abandon my Tuesday navy clothes and leap into pink and lilac instead. Honestly, I love to wear those colors and WHEN SPRING COMES ALL MY COLORS WILL BE AVAILABLE AGAIN and won’t that be nice? It’s challenging to be a Spring in the fall, when all of fashion is shaded and muted and muddy and all that does for me is make me look tired and ill, so I never look like fall. I look like spring visiting the fall. An Easter egg in the fall forest. It is what it is.

I wore navy blue today and it was a great big day for me, as I went to the dentist. Yes, yes, I know we all go to the dentist, but we don’t all have the same teeth, mental health, or experiences, which is why I usually take an ativan and am driven by some kind soul who takes pity on my whiny bitch ass — these last few years, my father-in-law. I always keep the x-ray vest on the whole time. It’s like a weighted blankie and I tuck my nervous hands in there and it makes me feel cozy. If it’s a long procedure, I’ll ask them for an actual blankie for over my vest. Totally serious (and I’m not the only one.)

Today I was very brave and I went to the dentist all by myself! No ativan, no Papaw AND IT WAS OKAY! That’s HUGE for me.

I was there about an hour and on my way back to work, I heard this song and I felt oh so OOOOOooOooOOOOOOOooooOOoooOoooOoooOooo
OOOOOooOooOOOOOOOooooOOoooOoooOoooOooo OOOOOooOooOOOOOOOooooOOoooOoooOoooOooo
Oo Oo Oo Oooooooooo

If you know it, you know. If not, you should probably watch the first 50 seconds, then you’ll know.

“We love the all of you”

Even on a Tuesday. Jot.

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Questioning the Magic

Well I’ve just been sitting here staring at this white space waiting for inspiration, but I got nothin. Lemme stare s’more.
Oh, okay, now I have dinner. Oof! Too hot. Hasta cool.
Where is my husband? Is he in traffic? Did he go to the store again? Has he fallen in love with the sight of his own face in a puddle? Oh my gosh, he just text me. He had to go to UPS for his parents and now he’s on his way. That’s nice. Do you think if I type in questions about other people, they’ll text me, too? Imagine the power.

I do believe that’s a jot thought, right there.




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Epitome 2019

It’s Epiphany. For Christians of various sects, this means different things. For me, it means I take down my holiday decorations and sing to my husband, “Christmas is over, Christmas is over, it’sa gonna be gone soon…” to the tune of  “Christmas is Coming”. He likes that song.

The Mister was ready for it. He asked me earlier this week, “Is it Epitome or whatever soon?” Epitome. *snort*
He hauled all the boxes out to the garage and we cleaned up all the glitter and needles and we sighed the nice sigh.

That’s why we were so chill yesterday, cause today was the take-down event. I’m making two meals today, so we can reheat later this week. Less cooking for moi, merci.

Also, The Mister went to the Redbox, where he got a movie that I would not enjoy and then he said, “Oh, and I got this movie with Keira Knightley, Colette?”
My eyes almost fell out of my head. Then he began to tell me what it was about and I let him, cause he dunno what I know. I merely nodded along happily.
“I would very much like to see that movie!”

And so, the marital bliss continues.



JusJoJan is brought to you by LindaGHill

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