joeyfullystated

I am having a weird summer. I had mono one summer. This one’s better than that one. It’s a strange time in my life. It’s mostly not about me, which is abundantly clear to me, and which is as it should be, roots and wings and fledglings and all that, but they’re called growing pains because ow.

Let me tell you the best medicine for my growing pains — sleep, ice cream, cocktails, and what True calls Dippy Fings. Any fing you can dip into another fing to make the first fing flavored. Chips and salsa, bread and soup, fries and chetchup, pita and hummus, apples and peanut butter — Dippy Fuckin Fings. I’m pretty sure those are also the best remedies for the menopause. You know what women don’t need during menopause? Being subjected to the mood swings of young women.

People comment on how loving and fun we are around here, and we are, but there’s been a lot of tension in the house lately. Sibling rivalry or someshit. There was a screaming fight about cake. Passive-aggressive squawking about television usage and dishwashing. I’ll be away from it all, getting texts like, “Don’t tell Mottern1, but …. ” and “Will you please speak to Mottern3 about her….” and people are all sarcastic and snippy and avoidant. Three is an unhappy number of siblings, cause Tag Teams.

I don’t spend much time on my sofa. It’s in the boy’s room. He doesn’t have another room. Because he’s twenty-fucking-six.

Remember how in March he had to go in and out of hospital and they’d partially mend him and pass him on to the next better hospital? Well, praise be to puppies, we live in the city proper and the boy went to one of our best hospitals with one of the nation’s best surgeons and they fixed him right up on the first shot and he does not have to endure a more invasive worst-case-scenario procedure. He even recovered faster.

No offense to people who enjoy rural living, but have y’all thought about maintaining your body beyond the fresh air and scenic hiking? As my husband put it, “Redneck General” : not an optimal medical facility. So, on day three of recovery, when Bubba no longer needed his pain meds, I said, “Oh good, does that mean they don’t need to live on my coffee table anymore?” He smirked and asked me, “Where do you want me to put them?” and I said, “In your apartment.” He smirked again, but he’s looking at apartments.

I know somewhere there’s someone thinkin I’m not as supportive and compassionate as I should be. Anyone who thinks they have more support and compassion to offer, more clean surfaces they’d like cluttered, well, they can hit that Contact Me section and submit an application. It takes a village, you know. I joke. You can’t have him, he’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I am tremendously proud. You can’t tell, mea culpa.

We had a cold front. We slept with the windows open. It was DIVINE. Still, my hair is like a Chinese finger trap, and other proof it’s summer.

 

Work is good. I’m almost through a momentous pile of rusting projects left by predecessors. I have one more struggle of this sort. From where I sit, my metal’s all shiny and hot. I like this metaphor. I’m a blacksmith. I forge swords. Mentor wields them. Haha, occasionally I wield a lil bit, but then I run back to her quick, sometimes like, “Didja see me? Didja see me?!?” and other times, like, “Oh dang! Cover me!”
TGIF/DMCV

The Mister and I are feeling old and tired. He’s old and I’m tired. Still, every weekend is a holiday and we sit around smugly enjoying the chaos.

Happy Friday Everyone!

I hate thyme, remember? When I posted that, I found out a lot of my regular readers like thyme.  Sickos!  Right, we’re all deeply flawed and yet perfect as we are.

If you didn’t remember I hated thyme, now you know I still do, right?

Set that aside.

A few weeks ago, there was a panic at work when “a huge spider” was spotted in the basement. It was, I quote, “a huge spider”.

Our basement is creepy af. It is. I’m not particularly creeped out by basements. I spent three years sleeping in one. So dark. So cool. However, I understand that if one doesn’t care for basements, generally, overall, then our office’s basement is particularly creepy. When the property was first acquired, the basement housed old iron beds with blood-stained mattresses from prior questionable medical practices. It now stores files and things you’d expect to find in a basement, like the mop bucket, tools, and old window screens.

It’s also got a kitchenette. It’s not as fancy as the upstairs kitchenette, but it has one. That’s where we store the beverages. We are heavily dependent on soda. Mostly diet soda, I suppose because we eat candy like we are six and every day is Halloween. Some days I don’t eat candy. Because there’s pastry. Or ice cream. Or cookies. Or cake. Seriously.

Office Assistant generally buys the treats. She works 10+ hours and consumes only black coffee, water, and an apple. She tries to help us junkies by setting out naturally sweet items or lightly sweetened nuts and we eat those, too, BUT WE WANT THE CANDY!

She says things like, “I’m going to Rome for two weeks,” and my first thought is not oh how nice or bring me some door photos, it’s OMFG we’re going to run out of candy! We had some serious deadlines in the last two weeks. I thought we were running out of candy, but Receptionist found the other half of the two-ton bag, Phew!

Anyway, back to the basement — Receptionist has the task of collecting beverages from downstairs and stocking the upstairs, which is when she saw “a huge spider” and informed the boss, who said she’d have Office Assistant ring the bug guy. It was just the three of us during the spider conversation, and I was the only one who hadn’t experienced some sort of heinous spider attack. I certainly did not mention that I did not share their feelings about spiders. I’ll kill a spider in my house if it frightens the kids or looks like it’s sizin me up. If it’s a big’un and I can see its eyes and it’s all “This my bathmat, Bitch!” I’ll kill it. I carry the baby ones out of my house, like, “Here, live in the garden, be happy, do happy spider things! Wheeeeeee!” One huge spider in the basement won’t keep me from the soda unless the spider is some Aragog-lookin thing.

Yesterday, the bug guy came. And he sprayed and sprayed and sprayed and the entire office stunk of THYME OIL. Prolly still does, fml.

Happy Friday Everyone!