Oh holy hell is the internet distracting! I started off this morning at 6:45am planning to do a quick check in on the world, write a post and then head out into the garden to win the battle against the weeds. It's now 7:50am and I've done nothing.
Well, not nothing. I have ordered a new bra via Amazon. And I have created a new wish-list and purged my old one down to one page. And I have added a photo to my LinkedIn page and paid some bills. But I still don't know what's happening in the world. And this happens every time I sit down at the computer, a total zigzag of minor productivity and major time suck. I am that dog, Dug, in the movie 'Up'. Don't get the reference, watch the movie. It's lovely. It's about an old man who... Ack! See? The squirrel reference is that Dug can't keep a thought going without getting distracted by a squirrel. Husband will call out squirrel when I'm telling a story and get off course. He says it a lot. This morning's Squirrel breakdown so far: 6:45am - sat down at the laptop, brought it to life and found it stuck on the Amazon page with the wonder bra a friend recommended to keep my boulders above the waist. It's been on my 'to do' list to buy for a while so I added it to the cart. And then, because why just buy the one thing I need, I went shopping in the black hole that is Amazon. I started with my wish-list which I've had hidden because I don't really want the in-laws buying me bras and random things like glow in the dark lawn flamingos and other things I think will piss off the husband and/or make my life easier. That led me to creating a new public page for them - and adding stuff to said page. Which led me to book shop for books I can't buy right now as the house is under construction and I have no place to put them unless they are on my Kindle. But I have four books on my Kindle that are waiting to be read so left books and went to the shopping cart. It was 7:10am by the time I pulled the trigger on the bra purchase. Which brought me the lovely ping of 'you've got mail'. Which led me to respond to the LinkedIn invite from the pianist who played a show for me 8 years ago. So there I am, on Linked in for the first time in ages, and I decide that today is the day I must put a picture on my page. But which picture will do me justice, will say I'm reliable but loads of fun and you should hire me - except I'm not looking for a job and haven't bothered to fill out the jobs I've had in detail so you don't know what you'd be hiring me for anyway... At 7:36, I finally uploaded a three year old photo of me with big hair and a loopy smile. I then hovered over several of the boxes that still need information and skipped them all, leaving LinkedIn unhappy with my profile and suggesting all sorts of additions to it so that I may 'improve your profile', which I took to mean improve me, got pissy and clicked 'skip'. Side note: Why are people endorsing me for editing. What the hell? Of all the things I'd endorse me for, editing isn't one of them. At 7:37 and the email pings me again reminding me to pay a bill and off to the online bank site I go. It's very easy to get distracted there. Starting with: "Where the hell did my money go?" That led to taking a wander through my bills paid summary, the checks written summary and ended with a side trip to "What the hell did I buy at Mercedes Benz for $404.66?" The answer is a service for my Smart Car. I think they charged me for a whole car and not the half that is my car. Side note #2: I bought the Smart Car because I had owned a VW Passat and that was like a car with four tires that you just threw money in. I figured less car would equal less money right? The answer is yes, gas milage is excellent and it's way cheaper to run - except when you get your multipoint inspection at Mercedes Benz. Sorry- Squirrel! Back to the time suck, that side trip to pay bills ended at 7:50am when I began this post. Still don't know what is going on in the world but I have a new bra coming so my boobs will be encapsulated with a one-way stretch power mesh. At least they will be prepared.
3 Comments
IF we still lived in California, today would be our 8th Houseiversary to celebrate the purchase of our house 8 years ago September 15.
IF we still lived in California, we'd have a random group of people - all the random bizarre and amazing people in our lives - over for burgers and beer and weird awesome conversations that would perhaps end with us breaking bottles after midnight just to prove you could in a bar fight if you needed to. IF we still lived in California, today might be the only day in the year I would see you face to face but it wouldn't matter because you're the kind of person and we've the kind of friendship that just starts up as if no time has passed. Some of you became friends at our Houseiversary and would only see each other there, planting yourselves in a corner with a bottle of wine and one of the only real wine glasses we had left and giggling the night away. IF we still lived in California, you would spend time going through our wonderful house and catching up on all our DIY projects from the past year, reminiscing about that the first party was the year without a kitchen, or the year that the fake grass was just a pit of crushed stone and that dog peed right in the middle of it and then that poor mom found her toddler splashing in the pee, or the Movies Under The Stars, or the time that dear woman who'd drank too much wine tried to enter the house without opening the glass door and hitting it so hard it got knocked off it's track, or the wife that went missing and we found her next door at Thomas' house high as a kite ....Sigh. BUT we don't still live in California. We don't live in our beautiful house. We don't have our wonderful friends dropping in today for a quick hello or a long chat. So, as much as I'd love you to, please don't ring the door bell of our house in California because we don't live there anymore. YOU CAN however, ring the doorbell of the horrible neighbor next door and tell her she is one of the reasons we don't live there anymore. That her awful un-neighborlyness was a factor on the CON list to stay. That asking us if we minded if she put a bird feeder on her side the fence and us saying no problem as long as it's not right behind the section where we had the BBQ and then having her put it RIGHT BEHIND THE SECTION WHERE WE HAD THE BBQ so the birds shit all over our BBQ didn't help. That saying, while husband was building a fence extension because she cut down the bamboo screening, "Oh, it's so nice that I don't have to pay for this." - the extension she agreed to pay half of while she watched husband awkwardly lean over our side of the fence to screw it in and then complained later that the screws were in crooked, put a mark in the 'against' column. That asking us about painting her house, asking what color we would be unhappy with and husband telling her "As long as you don't paint your house the same color as ours..." Because we had a lovely light grey and a bright red chimney, the ONLY RED CHIMNEY in the area and if the houses were the same color, it would look like a tract home. And so she paints her house a green that very very close to our grey and then PAINTS HER CHIMNEY RED so we look like an F-ing tract home! So, please feel free to ring her doorbell and tell her she's part of the reason we're not there to party. She's the one with the sour face and the stick up her butt that lived next door to our lovely house in California. And while you're there, say hello to our lovely neighbor Jean who lived on the other side of us who was awesome. Or Jeanine and her family and Pete - who called me Curly even when I was shaved bald - and his lovely wife who lived across the street. We miss them all and they would most certainly be invited to todays Houseiversary... If we still lived in California. (PLEASE DON'T REALLY RING HER DOORBELL! As dramatic as it would be, that would be really mean.) I've had a dead stick bug on my windshield wiper for a month now. Pretty sure it was dead when I first saw it but I didn't check so all I really am sure of is that it is there. And it is dead.
It has become a bit of a moral dilemma for me. I've been wondering if, when it was alive, I would have rescued it. It's a bug and bugs wiggle and crawl and fly and jump - usually right at my face and most definitely always when I have something right behind me to fall into or fall over or fall on. But if it was an alive bug, would it have survived to make more stick bugs and have stick bug love and live happily ever after pretending to be a skinny branch on a tree? One leg was stuck in the blade. Would he have been able to survive without it? Would other stick bugs still find him attractive and worthy of their stick love. Maybe the missing leg would be an asset and the stick ladies would battle for his affection. Maybe he would have been the king of all stick bugs and lived with his harem of stick ladies happily ever after... And I wonder, knowing all that, the stick bug's possible fantastic life, would I have reached down and pulled it off the wiper and set it free? I'm guessing, based on the fact that it's dead and still on my wiper, the answer is no. Which is not a great reflection on me... My mother would not be proud and, quite frankly, neither am I. Going to have to make a change... (Hoping other stick bugs don't read this. I really can't afford more bruises from falling over things when they leap at my face in anger over my indifference toward their buddy.) It will be interesting to see if I can maintain this. Not maintain the content, the words, the thoughts - those are constant manic ramblings in my head. If I can maintain the writing of said thoughts here. The follow through has always been the hardest for me. I think that's why I'm so drawn to theatre. Yes, I get to be someone else and yes it is, of course, always a joy to escape into someone else. But I think theatre serves me more as a satisfying beginning middle and end. We start and finish in a few short months. I think that is also why I stopped just short of going professional. A professional run is longer, sometimes years, and who has the time for that? So we shall see how this goes. Start the clock now...
|
AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
Categories
All
|