Excusified

Excusified, as defined by Urban Dictionary:

1. Something/Something that's full of excuses.

2. Expecting remedy for what someone didn't do or was suppose to do.

3. Talking nonsense; full of shit.


Big Ass Event…blah…blah…blah

Precious Oldest home for Spring Break…blah…blah…blah…

Annual audit at work…blah…blah…blah

Precious Youngest home for Spring Break…blah….blah….blah

So many bloggable moments so little time.

AWOL

People, people, people. I’m in a bit of a hole. My anxiety level has been creeping slowly upwards for weeks. I’m not sure how long ago the creeping began, but it’s been long enough that I’m starting to feel a wee bit fretful.

When I wake up in the morning I have a lump in my throat. A lump that makes it seem I’m trying to swallow something small and hard over.and.over.and.over. By noon my heart feels heavy. Like a slightly larger version of the stone lodged in my throat. By the time I leave the office some asshole buffoon seems intent on trying to squeeze blood out of the aforementioned stone.

When I get home, if I don’t have some really pressing to do’s to keep me occupied, I head straight for a glass of wine. More nights than not, I seem to have polished of an entire bottle before bed.

(Vis a vis of nothing there was an article in the paper this morning about a book featuring six steps to living like a cave man to rid oneself of depression. Nothing new or earth shattering about the list, and shit I already do every damn day, so please don’t send any “healthy living” tips my way kay?)

While I’m not full on panic attacky, I’m not having much fun. And feeling this way is ever so slowly starting to suck the joy out of my life. And people? It is summer damn it! I got through winter pretty much unscathed so this is odd for me.

All this is to say that while I have many thoughts swirling though my head and many stories I’d like to capture here I think my ability to do so has hidden away in my joy’s suitcase and skipped town.

Oh Dear Lord

People, it is FINALLY FREAKING March. You know, as in spring is just around the corner? And yet:

• It is elven degrees
• There is a good five inches of fresh snow on the ground
• I have a sore throat mixed with laryngitis
• I'm not sleeping AT ALL well
• I'm drinking so much tea with ecinacia that I'm peeing half my body weight every half hour
• I'm using so much saline nasal spray that I can smell an ocean breeze that's a billion miles away
• We're leaving town at O'Dark Hundred on Wednesday morning and my To Do list seems to be growing exponentially

Now if you'll excuse me, my table is ready. Pity, party of one.

Spelling Bee

Announcer: The word is “Demoralized”.

Contestant: “Demoralized”. Can I have the definition please?

Announcer: “Demoralized” To have one’s confidence undermined, to be disheartened.

Contestant: “Demoralized”. Can I hear it used in a sentence please?

Announcer: “Demoralized” After a long day at the office she felt “demoralized” when her family turned up their collective nose picked at her homemade, cooked from scratch dinner.

Contestant: “Demoralized”, D-E-M-O-R-A-L-I-Z-E-D, “Demoralized”.

Announcer: Correct.

Did your mother ever tell you?

If you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all? Yeah, mine too. Which is why it's a wee bit dark over here. And will remain so for the foreseeable future.

I guess it beats crying

I think having to consciously look for the bright spots in each day for my grace post is good for me. Otherwise I might have burst into tears when my laptop presented me with the BLUE SCREEN OF DEATH this afternoon. I'm just sayin'.

I got nothin' much

Not sure how I feel about today. On the one hand we got a lot done. On the other hand, meh, so what.

I finished up the last of the fall gardening chores.

The grocery shopping got done - including some items bought in preparation for Thanksgiving. So nice to plan ahead.

Then off to the home improvement store to buy supplies for a project at my sister's house. Said home improvement project went the way of most - whatever could go wrong...

We capped off the day by taking an almost thirteen year old car to Precious Oldest (a car that had been at Precious Youngest's disposal) to get her through the end of the semester driving back and forth for her teaching assistant position. Which leaves us with a seventeen year old who no longer has wheels. This should be fun.

Oh please, how long did you think the optimism would last?

A day may need to pass

I don't have much tonight. It's only Tuesday, but it feels like Thursday at the LEAST. The weather is gray, misty, cold.

We went to two wakes tonight. Wakes for two good women who will be buried tomorrow. Women who left children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.

Isabelle and Rose lived long lives. Not healthy lives, in the end, but lives without prolonged suffering. They both had what one calls "a good death". That's something to cling to when nothing else is left.

Quickie

We had a good school visit yesterday and I have pictures, but no time to upload.

There are BIG decisions to be made. We've been to two VERY different schools, both with excellent programs in Precious Youngest's intended field of study. We see one more school next week and then begin the discernment process.

Any words of wisdom?

Quickie

Much partying, poker playing and general fooling around over the weekend. Except for traipsing hither and yon for the elusive homecoming dress. Saint leaving town today. Big ass grant due on Wednesday. Taking Sib#2 to the hospital Thursday for a "procedure". Starting a new volunteer gig Saturday. Throat scratchy. Whining will commence shortly.

Testy

Bad-tempered
Irritable
Grumpy
Crotchety
Touchy
Cross

Any of the above words could be used to describe the general mood in Whoville last night. There is no doubt that certain members of my household would find said words applicable only to me. I, however, would not.

Let's just say one is helping a household member pack up for an extended stay away from home and is carrying a large box out of the basement. A large box filled to the brim with electronic devices (hair dryer, alarm clock, flat iron, power strips, CD player, etc., etc., etc.). And the person carrying said box realizes half way up the steps that the box is not taped shut on the bottom. And the box starts to collapse in on itself and a piece of electronic equipment escapes through the bottom of the box and skitters down the basement stairs. How pray tell, how, is this the fault of the person who neither brought the box home to be used for the move nor packed the box?

Let's just say one has had a long and testy tiring day and is in bed, in their nightie, watching gymnastics mentally preparing for the next day. And their spouse comes in and hands them sheets of paper with lots of important dates and activities listed out for the upcoming school year. And the spouse is incredulous pissed off annoyed that one is not wearing their READING GLASSES and one has to look for them. And the spouse proceeds to demand request that the important activities one will be participating in be declared RIGHT THEN AND THERE. Well, you can understand how one might refuse to cooperate and suggest having papers shoved in their face at this time of night is not appreciated.

Ahem. While one enjoys family togetherness A GREAT DEAL, after all is said and done, perhaps the school year beginning anew is not an entirely bad thing after all. I'm just sayin'.

Fucking Fuckers

The house? My sister's HOUSE? The one she's supposed to close on this Friday? Is part of an estate, with three GROWN children as beneficiaries. One of whom, we discovered at 4:30 this afternoon, has FILED FOR CHAPTER 13 FUCKING BANKRUPTCY!

People! Do you know what this means? We are FUCKED. Now we have judges and attorneys who have rulings to make before she can close on the house. And no one knows how long this will take. So we cancel the workmen. And the movers. And the utilities. And we wait.

And last night? We made great progress packing. We had a plan for tonight. And for tomorrow night. And now? I'm just pissed. And frustrated. And I just......

For the love of family

GAH! I just deleted a whole freaking post. Now I have to start over. Bah. People, I am TIRED. First we had the staying up late getting ready for the weekend, and then we had the staying up late to party on the weekend. It was very fun. My father teared up when he saw everyone there, and he loved the slide show.

In other stressful exciting news, my sister closes on the house on Friday and moves the same day. *The total estimate to fix everything was about $5,000 and the sellers agreed to pay the biggest chunk of it. And as the Saint points out; the bones of the house are great, it’s just the circulatory system that’s in the crapper. And that? Can be fixed.* I’m trying not to be my usual glass half empty self, but damn it I think it’s going to be a long week.

Now I love my sister with my whole heart and soul. But if you look up disorganized procrastinator on Wikipedia? You’ll see a picture of Sib #2. And yes, her life has been crazy stressful the past several years, but she’s always been this way.

Last summer my sister moved from her old house to a nearby duplex. (With movers I begged to do the job with one week’s notice because that’s all she gave me.) We went over to her old place a few days before the move to get everything finished up before the movers came.

My sister, who wasn’t working at the time, assured me she’d been packing EVERY DAY. Ahem. There were about six boxes packed. Pictures were still on the walls and books were still on the shelves. The refrigerator and freezer were full of food and the drawers were full to bursting. The saint had his tool box so he could unhook her washer and dryer. But there was a load of wash in each and plenty more waiting.

Now she’s working full time, so I expect things to be in even worse shape this go around. I’ll be going over after work all this week to try and spur things along. Unfortunately our last e-mail exchanges with me pushing to schedule workman, getting started on school registration and switching her utilities ended with her calling me “bossy”. More than once. Sigh....

Oh my freaking…

While I should be posting vacation pictures, pictures of my adorable nephews and filling you in on the house situation I will be doing NONE of those things. Because? Of the cluster fuck that my father’s 70th birthday party is turning out to be.

My dad will be 70 this Saturday. And yes I do plan to let you all in on my father in all his wacky glory. But right now? My mother is driving me batshit. Partial information is being sent out to me and my siblings (#s 2-4 will be here for the party) ONE AT A TIME in a fashion most closely resembling Chinese water torture. Drip.Drip.Drip.

The Saint forwarded an e-mail to me (that was sent to his HOME e-mail, the one he checks once every blue moon) telling ME that I have a hotel room reserved for the night of the party. The party that will be in the city in which I reside. At a lovely venue 5 minutes from my house. While the hotel is 30 minutes away. And I just don’t…..

It’s bad enough she’s trying to “surprise” the nosiest man in North America. But NOW she’s thinking it’s all going to be too expensive. But she wants it to be nice. But what if people order too many cocktails? But people should get what they want. No, she doesn’t want me to pay for anything. But did I remember they’re retired and the market is tanking?

Now I’m supposed to convince my husband and children we should pack a bag FOR ONE NIGHT to stay in a suite at a hotel IN OUR TOWN? I just don’t…..

Trust me when I tell you I am RARELY at a loss for words. But I just don’t……

Phone Calls

I’ve been putting off these calls, but I made them today:

To my gynecologist to make an appointment to have my lady bits examined. Because that’s all kinds of fun.

To radiology to make an appointment to have my breasts squished. Because if you’re going to have your lady bits examined, you might as well go whole hog and have a stranger fondle you.

To the salon to make an appointment for my hair to be cut. By someone I’ve never laid eyes on. Because my regular stylist decided that propagating the species was more important than my hair.

Is it STILL Monday?

Quiz

In which situation do you find more irony?

A. A sixteen year old who accompanies you to the grocery store and chooses these snacks.

OR

B. A sixteen year old who lectures you (yes, you with the canvas bags and the recycling and the buying local) on your carbon footprint and then chooses these particular snacks.

Where's the damn Christmas Spirit now?

THIS is the time of year I want to crawl back in bed and pull the covers up over my head. I bitch and moan with the best about too much to do in too little time leading up to Christmas. But in reality, if my end goal was to sit with my feet up on the evening of December 23rd drinking a glass of champagne in front of the fire? I had FOUR weeks between Thanksgiving weekend and Christmas Eve Eve to get most everything done. And with a few tiny exceptions everything was done.

Oh the cooking can't be helped. There is simply only so much that can be done ahead. But overall? I had a pretty relaxing holiday. AND I had the Saint's family staying here. And I cooked Christmas Eve Dinner (but only for seven this year), Christmas Breakfast AND Christmas Dinner (now for thirteen). And we throw a small birthday party Christmas afternoon. So yeah, the afternoon of December 26th finds me a wee bit tired.

But now everything has to come down, get washed/cleaned and stored for another year. It is not fun, there is no anticipatory excitement helping spur things along. And who wants to drag the process out for four days let alone four weeks? So here I sit trying to figure out a way to motivate myself to undo Christmas.

If anyone has a thought as to how to make this less painful? I'll be right here waiting for suggestions. No, seriously, I'll wait.

Where were you at 2 AM?

I am moping about today people. The Christmas spirit I had gamely mustered and tried to keep alive? Is gone. I'm tired. Our power went off and on, and off and on, and finally just off in the middle of the night. So I had the distinct pleasure of lying in the dark thinking black thoughts.

My SIL is back in the hospital trying to keep her twin boys in her uterus WHERE THEY BELONG RIGHT NOW!. She's only twenty seven weeks along and the doctors don't think either baby weighs over two pounds. My poor brother is in his last year of law school and is trying to study for finals. He sounded so stressed last night. All I can do is pray, but it doesn't seem like enough.

Precious Oldest is home and after the first twenty four hours? The bloom was most definitely off the rose. I was so looking forward to her being home. And to meeting some of her college friends. Now I'm walking on egg shells. Disdain. Everything I do, everything I say, is met with disdain. And yes, I'm quite certain that it does BLOW to come home to a PARENT, with EXPECTATIONS, after months of FREEDOM. But you know what? The attitude hurts all the same. Being wrong all the time is sucking the joy out of me.

I think I'll stop by church on my way home and light a candle. Maybe two.

Home Improvement for $500, part two

Nope, still not ALL done. But the walls are "Sprout".

This has been replaced.

By some lovely bead board.

But now I have to put things on the walls.

They may be empty for a while.

*********************************

In other news, my sleep cycle, which has a freaking hair trigger, has been screwed over by Thanksgiving travel. I was up again last night, and I'll let you in on a little something, there is a REASON they use sleep deprivation as a form of torture. At this rate I expect full on psychosis by New Year's.

I can't spell during football

I? Am not a beastly football fan. Much more with the basketball. But my Alma Mater is in a battle right now so I'm trying to cheer,post and comment at the same time. I just looked at my comments from the last post and holy shit, I know I'm not much of a speller, but I'm going to blame that on too many Fat Tires and my team sucking donkey balls at the moment.

Precious Oldest is here talking smack so if I have strength I'll back.