"I'm starting to think it wouldn't be so bad if the robots took over." -Maxine

This place is going to the dogs!

Shooter

Eddie

Seriously. There's dog hair everywhere. Literally - everywhere. I mean, I'm used to Elvis' cat hair flying all around the house, but that's nothing compared to these two dogs. Everywhere they go, they just drop hair. I don't even have to touch them. And every time we're outside, I rub them down to try to get all the loose hair off their bodies, but I could do that forever and there'd still be hair all over my house. It's fascinating, really.

And whew! The smell! I wonder why dogs smell and cats don't?

I don't know how I became the go-to dogsitter, but it really makes me appreciate cats.

However, I don't want to give them back, either. They're such damn good dogs. No barking. I don't have to walk them because if I tried, I wouldn't survive. Shooter would rip my arm out of its socket. No accidents (that I know of) inside the house. They're calm as can be around Elvis. Granted, Elvis throws a hissy fit but that's his own damn fault. They could care less that a cat is on the premises. However, come close to my yard and they'll go ballistic. A cat a block away. A rabbit in my driveway. A dog two houses down. Kids on bicycles. A runner in the street. Everybody should just avoid my house, which is exactly what I want! Maybe I could "rent" Eddie & Shooter for next year's Antique Walk.

It's going to be hard to part with these two beasts come Monday, but I can't wait to clean my house!


I'm a bit bummed and more than a little panicky that I haven't gotten a call for a job interview with the APD. The deadline for apps was Tuesday. I figured they'd call this week to schedule an interview. Every day that passes without a phone call sends me into fits. I panic, get online to look for another job, find there's nothing that I'm qualified for (do I really want to drive truck?) and then sink into a dark, dark place. I think I'm screwed. And then there's my weight gain. I'm now over 130.  I just don't get it. I feel like I hardly eat anything and yet I'm still gaining weight? WTF?  I suppose I should just stop eating altogether. I make myself sick.

So! I very easily could feel depressed, but surprisingly, I don't. I'm still able to kind-of shut-down bad thoughts and just think about something else or nothing at all. I can only do what I can do. If there aren't any jobs available, there aren't any jobs available. I can't change that. There has to be a reason I'm gaining so much weight. I'll discuss it with my doctor when I go in August. By that time, I'm sure I'll have gained 10 more pounds and will only be able to wear elastic pants. At least I have a plan.

My audience while I eat. Maybe this will make me stop.

"I love doing crunches. If by "doing crunches" you mean "eating chips"." -Maxine

I watched a movie the other day on FX: "In Time"? "Out of Time"? Something about Time. It starred Justin Timberlake and is about.....hm, how to explain? People are born and at the age of 25 their life-time starts. They could be in debt, so maybe they only have a day or a few hours of time to live (the poor). Or they could accumulate time and have a century or eons (the rich). They can inherit time. Time can be stolen. When your time runs out, you simply die. They use time to purchase their goods. And that's what got me thinking:

If you had to pay for everything with your "life-time", would you buy what you think you want/need?

If you had to spend an hour of your "life-time" to buy ice cream, would you?

If you had to spend a day of your "life-time" for a hair-cut & color, would you?

Or what about a car: If you had to spend 10 years of your "life-time" for the car that you need (not want), would you?

I have a laundry list of things that I want to buy and I keep telling myself, "Not until I have a job...."  I want new curtains in my living room. Maybe add blinds, too. If I had to pay for them with...say, a week of my "life-time", would I? No. No I wouldn't. It's not like I need them. I want them. Same for the trellis for my porch and the hydrangea bush I want to buy and other landscaping I want to do. I don't need anything. I want everything.

My hairdresser said she & her boys were in the city and since the boys were good, she took them through the DQ drive-thru. Did she need to buy herself an ice cream sundae? No. She didn't need it. But she sure as hell wanted it and so she did buy it. But if it meant giving up an hour of her "life-time", I bet she wouldn't have.

Not that something like this is every going to happen to humans, but it sure did get me thinking.


I've never understood people with knee problems. I mean, sure, if you're immensely overweight, I get it. If you're an athlete and you tweak your knee, I understand. But normal, every day people, nope. Until now. I'll be standing, walking, twisting, doing something and suddenly my knee will just give. No pain. It just...stops. It's the weirdest thing. I'm blaming my weight-gain. My knees just can't handle the extra weight. *eye roll*


I've got the decorating bug. After the Antique Walk, of course. I've rearranged my bedroom (not that there's much room to do anything different). I've tweaked a few small things, here & there. I've straightened out my bathroom closet. I brought out a cute, white stand-alone (or hang) medicine cabinet I got at a garage sale last summer and didn't know what to do with...I put it in my bedroom and it holds my perfume, some jewelry and candles. I've removed a plain (painted light green) window frame that the previous owners had screwed into the ledge upstairs (presumably, to prevent their children from climbing and falling off said ledge). I don't know, yet, what I'm going to do with it, but I've got the window frame + two decorative plant hangers(?). I want to paint....everything.....white. I want to paint my headboard (which I hate), my nightstand, my dresser, my bureau. I want to build a new headboard. Out of plywood, foam, fabric. Out of pallet boards. Out of shutters. Out of doors. I want my house to look like a cozy cottage. I want shabby-chic.

Ah hell, I just mowed. I'm tired. It all looks fine......for now.

"I've already reached my ideal weight...heavy enough to kick your butt!" -Maxine

Update: Check this out!

Top 1/2 is the vinegar/vegetable oil mixture (written about below). Bottom 1/2 is without. Holy Moley! Granted, Elvis refuses to walk on it. Even though I dried it with a clean rag, I haven't walked on it yet with bare feet, either. I'm afraid to. I'm afraid I'll just go slipping & sliding right out the window. And there's a faint scent of vinegar, but that'll fade, right? My whole head was dripping sweat by the time I finished. Dripping. Sweat. I kept asking myself, "what is wrong with me?!?" My aunt & I decided we sweat like horses running the Belmont Stakes...because saying we sweat like pigs didn't work - pigs don't sweat. I'm going to wait to do my dining room floor & all the other floors throughout the house until the weather's cooler. It's insanity to do anything other than lay in front of the air conditioning vent.

End of Update



Today's my birthday and it's already been a good one. Can we shut it down right now so it'll stay good?

I went to Walmart early this morning because it's so damn hot (80 already and it's only 9). Even though I run my air conditioner, I still sweat my ass off while I'm getting ready. What's the point of bathing if I'm just going to sweat immediately after? Ugh. Supposed to reach a high of 97 with high humidity. Yep, I'll be staying inside the rest of the day.

I used to hate Walmart. The one in CB was always filled with rude, disgusting people. The clerks were mean. The shoppers were mean....and stupid to boot! It just was never a pleasant experience. But now, because of Liz, the cashier, I leave feeling pretty darn good. She sang Happy Birthday to me. She kept telling me I was so beautiful...why wasn't I married? She just makes the whole experience less horrible. I stood in her line for a good 20 minutes (because, of course, there were no other checkers) and I wasn't even mad. All it takes is a little flattery - it'll get you everywhere!

In fact, I just did my good deed of the day and phoned the manager at Walmart to tell her how great Liz is. Somebody needs to recognize her efforts. Praise happens way to little in this day & age.

I'm going to try a new concoction today on my hardwood floors. I removed the large floor rug in my living room and the floor's a mess underneath. I've cleaned it 4 times already and it's still...dull? dirty? Anyway, I can see where the rug was laying and every time I clean the area, it dries funny. So I'm going to mix 1 cup vinegar & 1 cup vegetable oil and wipe the floor with that. It's supposed to clean & shine the floor. We'll see. It'll probably just smell bad.

And I'm battling ants in my kitchen, though now I'm starting to think they're not ants. I put out the magic stuff my mom uses - a little drop on a piece of cardboard, they swarm it, take it back to their hill and kill all the others. There's no swarming going on. The drops are still there. This stuff worked awesome last summer so I know they're not ants. They've got to be gnats or something; I don't know. I bought a can of botanical bug killer for use in the kitchen and I'm dousing all surfaces. I hope Elvis survives.

I'm not eating today because I think Mom made this

to celebrate my 39th year on this earth. All I know is that it contains peanut butter pudding and that's all I need to know. Just give me a vat of this stuff and I'll be fat & happy. Yum!

"I cherish all of my friendships...especially the long distance ones!" -Maxine

The 2014 Antique Walk is officially over. The Amvets just picked up the garbage cans. The porta-potties are gone. And while it took the "hammockgate" guys until after 9:00pm (whereas the other vendor was gone before 6) to load up all their crap and finally (FINALLY!) leave, all-in-all, it was a good Walk.

I'm sure glad it's over. Now back to normal!

I will say, there is one positive out of the Walk, for me personally, and that's: no traffic. The competition in my neighborhood to see who has the loudest truck and who can annoy me the most is put on hold for 3 days. As soon as the Walk was over last night, it began again.

*sigh*

I mowed this morning and literally sweat my ass off. Literally. I have no ass anymore. The sun wasn't even shining! The humidity has to be around 100%. When I returned the mower & trimmer to Mom she asked, "Is it raining?" No, Mom, that's sweat. I was drenched. My hat was soaked clear through. What is wrong with me that I sweat so profusely? Though it feels good to sweat that much - within context. If I'm mowing and nobody else is around and nobody wants to talk to me, then it's fine. If there are other people around, however, it's mortifying. I'm disgusting.

I lost two pounds, which I'm sure will reappear on my ass within hours.

I have to give a shout-out to my friend, Tim. Tim shared a bunch of books with me on Google Drive back in December but I just wasn't in the right frame of mind to go through all of them, then, and load them onto my Nook or Kindle. I went through all of them the other day & downloaded a ton to my Kindle! I'm most excited about all the Stephen King books: All the ones I don't already have in hardback! I can re-read "Tommyknockers", which was the first King book I ever read and don't have in my collection! I can read all the "Dark Tower" books! I tried once before in high school and just couldn't get into them. Now I'm sure I will. There are Dean Koontz books, John Saul books, Anne Rice books, Alex Kava books and even one I've been wanting to read but the library doesn't have: China Mieville's "Embassytown". Tim, it's like Christmas every time you share books with me. I'll love you forever & ever....if you continue to do so. Otherwise, forget it. :)

Off I go to finish King's "The Dark Half" before heading to the library to get even more books. I'm grateful every morning I wake up and still want to read and am still able to read. Life is pretty darn good....for now.

"Fathers teach us all kinds of useful stuff. And if we're ever stranded in a forest at night in bad weather, we might actually use some of it." -Maxine

Day two of the town takeover.

I haven't killed anybody yet and I've calmed down since yesterday's "hammock-gate" so that's an improvement.

I was so pissed yesterday, I couldn't even eat lunch. Maybe if I stay pissed off for the rest of my life, I'll be able to lose weight! After Dad came over and politely asked the men invading my front & side yard to remove the hammock strap from my tree, I went inside, took two of my anti-anxiety pills (which I don't usually take in the afternoon) and shut myself into my bedroom, with Elvis under the covers of my bed, and promptly fell asleep. Dad called just before I dozed off (fell unconscious) to tell me if I needed saving, I'd have to find someone else because they were leaving to get groceries. At that point, I just didn't care. I was worn out from being pissed off.

That's the thing with being angry. I don't vent it out at the people who made me angry. God forbid, they don't like me. So I seethe. I dwell. In my head, I really give them the dickens! And it only does damage to me; not them. They could care less. So today I'm just going to enjoy the day as much as I can....while still keeping an eye on the bastards.

But just because I don't really let 'em have it, doesn't mean I'm not thinking of ways to keep them (& everybody else) out of my yard next year. Can I put up stakes & twine all around the perimeter to designate what's "mine"? Or how about I just cover my yard in Scooter & Murphy's dog poop? I wonder if someone has a truck-load of manure they'd deliver the day before for me to spread out over my yard. I want people to suffer if they dare walk through my yard. I'm spiteful like that. If you have any good ideas, let me know!!

I'm still too self-conscious to sit out on my front porch, in the nice morning sun, because there are just too many people in front of my house. I'd never make it in a big city like New York where tons of people surround you on a daily basis. I'd probably never leave my one-room, rat & cockroach-infested apartment. Not that I'm much different here, I guess. Though, thank goodness, I just have centipedes, spiders, ants & flies. Thank goodness?!? *sigh* I hate bugs.

Dad & I walked the north half of the Walk yesterday afternoon. He woke me from my drugged sleep. So - drugged, no food in my belly and still a bit miffed, we walked the town. There's a coffin with a skeleton in my front yard. Yours for the low, low price of $2,500!  I'd like to take the skeleton out and put someone else in there. And there's a big bull made out of scrap metal (?) in a neighbors yard. Dad said, if you kick it in the cajones, a bell rings. I'd like to kick someone in the cajones! There's plenty of junk and some nice jewelry and....food! I ate when I got home.

After eating lunch/dinner/supper, I was having my after-meal cigarette and I could hear a women & child outside my front door - very, very close.  *sigh* Will this day never end?!? Will I ever not be pissed off?  I looked out to tell them to get off my damn steps...but it was just Shan & her daughter. Thank goodness. I'm tired of being pissed. I'm going to be just like grandma (oh, wait, I already am!) and yell at kids for throwing rocks & sticks in my yard.

We're supposed to get a storm late tonight/ early tomorrow morning with a moderate risk for tornadoes. Am I supposed to invite these people into my basement for shelter? Hmmmm, I think I'll sleep through it.

Off I go to (enjoy) (suffer) day 2 of "The Walk".

"Word of advice...stay on my good side. Another word of advice...my good side is in Peru!" -Maxine

Day one of the town take-over: (shots taken from my front door)

So yeah, it's madness but I wasn't expecting to be pissed off as soon as I opened my front door. Last night, the gentlemen from last year who parked over my sidewalk and in my yard in their behemoth RV and got yelled at, parked reasonably. They hadn't even staked up their tents. They parked their RV in my neighbors driveway (bottom picture, left). So, I was o.k. And everybody was so quiet this morning, I was able to sleep until 7:30.

I didn't open my doors until I had worked out & bathed because I think opening a door invites people in. Nope. Not inviting anyone in. In fact, I'm so pissed off, it took me five minutes to think of the word "tent" for the sentence above.

And why am I pissed? Several reasons, but I could have let things go except for the dumb-asses who thought it'd be a good idea to hang a hammock from the spindly tree in my front yard. Middle picture: See the tree & bush? They had one part of the hammock tied to my spindly tree and the other to their damn truck parked to the side. And a teenage girl was in the hammock! Good god, I'm surprised the damn tree didn't snap. I was pissed and confused and wanted to make them stop. How dare they just do that without even asking!!! These people - they will try to take advantage of you if you're not watching them like a hawk.

Notice: the hammock is down. Though it wasn't because of anything I said or did. I walked over to the girl to ask her what the hell she was doing. She was......something. Cerebral palsy, maybe? Muscular Distrophy, maybe? I don't know, but she couldn't talk and started flapping her arms at her chest when I tried to talk to her. *sigh* Nobody - NOBODY - else paid any attention to either of us. I looked around for a parent or somebody - anybody - to yell at and everyone just avoided me, so I went back inside....fuming!

And next thing I know, the hammock is down and the girl is standing under the tent. They must have gotten the hint. For christ's sake! What is wrong with people?!? And now they've pissed me off so badly, I don't even want to look at their shit. I just want to watch them and make sure they're not doing anything they're not supposed to be doing and that pisses me off even more.

*sigh*

I really wanted to enjoy this weekend. Now, I just want to close my damn doors & suffocate and close all of them out. Pretend they're not here. People who say they love the Walk obviously don't have the sort of idiots I do parked surrounding their house.

"There are inconveniences and then there are real problems. And if you inconvenience me, you'll have real problems." -Maxine

Today's been a busy day and it isn't even 11:00a.m. yet!

I set my alarm for 5:00a.m., falsely thinking I'd wake up and workout before getting ready to go to my appointment. Instead, I hit snooze 4 or 5 times and slept until there wasn't any time left to workout. Funny how that happened. I figure sweating my ass off yesterday mowing, trimming and pulling weeds was at a least a 2-day workout. I'm sure I'll get back to it tomorrow.

I went to my 7:00a.m. therapy appointment. Who the hell schedules these so early? Oh, right. Me. Idiot. I do like going early because then my grocery shopping gets done early and I get back home early. The problem is, I no longer like waking up early! It's a Catch 22. Anywhoo, I went to my appointment feeling pretty good. I had her laughing pretty hard the whole time; like I'm some stand-up (sit-down) comedian and my only goal at these appointments is to make her laugh. I told her about my crazy mind and how I just know - I KNOW - I've driven my parents away and they're going to move and I'll never see them again. She told me that was "negative thinking" and then went on to say that today would be our last appointment.

Huh? I've driven her away, too?!? Wow, I'm powerful.

She "claims" she took a job closer to where she lives. She said how hard it was to make the decision and how sad she was.

Did I just get dumped? By my therapist? 'Cause it feels like I just got dumped.

LOL, No. I know I didn't. I know she's really changing jobs and good for her. I'm happy for her and while I'm a tad bit anxious about my next appointment with a new therapist, I'm sure all will be fine. Remind me of this statement at the end of July when I'm panicking and I hate my new therapist and I know I'll never find another one as good as I've had. Remind me.

After my appointment (no, I didn't leave in tears and shout, "Can we still be friends?!?") I went to the police department to get an application for a part-time secretarial position. I'd never been to this police department. That's a good thing, right? Right. Afterward, I did my shopping at Walmart and dropped off a trunk-load of stuff to the Salvation Army. All-in-all, a good morning.

And then I got home and started filling out the application and got stuck on "Reason for Leaving" all my previous jobs. I can't say, "Well, I had a meltdown." or "I was hospitalized" or "I left because I wanted to get out of crazy-town". I can't say any of that. But I can't lie either. So I massaged it (re: bullshitted my way through). "I want to find a job in my field." "Personal reasons" (I hate this one - leaves too much to the imagination, but what else could I say?). "It was time to move on - I moved and needed a job closer to home."

All of which will be refuted by my previous employers if they don't know the law and I guarantee at least one doesn't.

I hate having to "massage" words. I wish I didn't have to. I wish I could just tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, but let's be honest - it wouldn't get me anywhere. Not that massaging the words is getting me anywhere, either. *sigh*

Every time I apply for a job, I have to take a good, hard look at myself and my life and what I see isn't pretty. I do my best to avoid those thoughts, push them down, and think about something else. I have no chance in hell of getting this job, but I have to try. I have to. And I always have a little, itty-bitty, teeny-tiny, glimmer of hope that this one will work out. Because, let's face it - I'm perfect for a secretarial position at a police department. Come on! I was made for this job!

Ugh. I wish someone would see me, see my education, see my experience and say, "We want you!" Does that ever happen?

And then, while I was eating a banana at the kitchen sink (because last night my calf was doing something funky so I figured I needed more potassium) a butt-load of ants crawled out of my electrical outlet. It was like "Arachnaphobia" but with ants. Spiders, Ants, Centipedes and Flies. I can live without any of these. I sprayed the whole area. I'll probably never be able to plug my coffeepot in ever again because I doused the outlet. In fact, I'm surprised a fire hasn't started already. But the ants are dead and I haven't seen any of their brethren.

I hate bugs.

I'd say it's time to warm up my coffee, put my feet up and read. The madness of the Antique Walk will start tomorrow; has actually started today; even though it doesn't officially begin until Friday. I need to prepare myself for all the traffic, parking, people and dogs. It's sure to be.....something.

"My doctor told me I needed to get my heart rate up more often. So I started watching the news again." -Maxine

My grandma could be Maxine. And I'm becoming more & more like her every day. The other day, I stripped down to my under-things to try to get cool, just like Grandma does. Luckily my curtains were drawn and nobody came to the door.

It's official. I'm a fat ass. I weigh 130 lbs. I haven't weighed this much since I moved away from home to go to high school. I called it my "Freshman 15" since it was my first time away from home. And I was eating a peanut buster parfait every day after school. That didn't help. I remember Mom pointed out my weight gain to me. That was all I needed to lose weight. If only that were the case now.

Since working out isn't helping and dieting isn't helping, I decided to try a weight loss supplement. After reading about them on-line (that's some scary shit!), I decided to try the green coffee bean supplement. It was the only one I could find that didn't have exploding diarrhea as a side effect. Who needs that?!?

I took my first dose a little while ago (1/2 hour before eating) and will again tonight before I eat. I don't hold out much hope it'll work, but even if it stops me from gaining any more weight, I'll feel victorious.

*sigh* How ridiculous.

I will say, if you want to feel good about yourself, go see Liz, the cashier, at Walmart. She always tells me how skinny I am, as she's scanning my lettuce, carrots, black olives....peanut butter & ice cream.

I met with my med-check lady this morning. I didn't think it would go well. I'm not feeling all that great. I'm not feeling bad, either, though, so.....I answered all her questions in the negative: Are you feeling sad, blue, depressed? No. Are you having suicidal or self-harm thoughts? No. Do you lack concentration and focus? No. Is your memory bad? No. But when she asked me to rate my mood, I rated it a 5. Last month it was a 7. I told her it was only because I'm feeling the pressure to get a job and the prospects aren't looking good. It doesn't help that I keep gaining weight instead of losing it, too. But even that would be bearable if I didn't feel like I would be living without water, electricity and gas soon. I've actually started to picture in my head what that would be like: I'd still have the house (thank you Mom & Dad) but if I had no water, how would I brush my teeth? bathe? wash my hands? If I had no electricity, I'm pretty sure my garage door wouldn't work anymore. What would I do with my garbage? And then I envision my house full of garbage and I've become a hoarder.

It's not lookin' good.

On a positive note, Elvis is no longer commandeering the space in front of my toilet. Yah!!! I suspect he didn't believe me that the dogs were really gone so he stayed somewhere safe until he convinced himself. Glad that's over.

"Judging by the hair on the furniture, I'm surprised I have any cat left at all." -Maxine

Elvis is giving me flashbacks. And not good flashbacks, either.

This is Chica before she passed away:

I don't know why she started laying down in front of the toilet. I don't know if it was because she felt the need to be close to the litter box because her kidneys weren't working right. Or if she just wanted to annoy me. Or if she just wanted my undivided attention. I don't know, but now this is happening:

It's giving me a very, very bad feeling.

I've been sniffing Elvis all morning to see if he smells like Chica did (nail polish remover) and he just smells like him. His breath smells like butt. He seems to be eating, drinking and eliminating just fine.

But Chica acted pretty darn normal for a long time, until it got so bad, she was missing fur, she smelled like nail polish remover, she had horrible dandruff, and then, at the end, she couldn't move.

Elvis is 16 years old, so it shouldn't come as any surprise if he does get sick & pass away. I just don't know what I'll do when/if that happens.

If only I could see into the future.

For now, I'm letting him stay right there while I fall over myself trying to pee. *sigh* Whatever makes him happy.

"A good man isn't so hard to find...if you read a lot of romance novels." -Maxine

The other day, I ran into one of Mom & Dad's coffee "friends" on a walk with the dogs. The guy has no teeth and crowds personal space. What more do I need to say? Stepping back from him, I almost broke a dogs leg, that's how badly I wanted to get away. He's one big part of never wanting to take walks around this town ever again. And he said something to me which I cannot get out of my head - - "So, your folks are moving!" A statement. Not a question. I felt like I did when I was a teenager and my infatuated-with-boyfriend cheated on me. Did this gross guy know something I didn't? About my own parents? Who live a block away from me? How could I not know they were moving? But...he would know, right? He has coffee with them Every. Single. Day. If it wasn't true, how could he screw something like that up so horribly? Though I did see this one coming. I've been waiting for this shoe to drop since my older brother and his kids moved South. Yep, disgusting man just confirmed my suspicions.

Even though Mom & Dad assure me they're not moving, "I only have one more move in me and that's your brother!" I don't entirely believe them. I feel like I always do with my family - I'm the last to know - because they're all afraid I'll have some sort of mental breakdown if they tell me. Better to spring it on me last minute. Hell, I'll have a mental breakdown, regardless! I'm having one now! LOL

It's better to just rip the band-aid off quickly.

So what does a good daughter do? She texts the person she's closest to and who would never lie to her: her younger brother. His reply to my "Are mom & dad moving???" was, "LOL, no, why would they move?" I told him I figure I've driven them to it...and grandkids. See? All my fault. Good lord, it's a good thing my parents never got divorced because I'd've blamed myself FOR SURE. His reply to that? "Yah, you do keep them pretty busy." 

Aw shit. Why'd he have to say that? Again, my fears are confirmed. I'm going to drive my parents away by needing them too much.

And that takes me down the "I don't have a job. I need to get a job. I'm never going to get a job. Nobody will hire me. I can't take another crappy job and end up hating myself so much I want to end my life! I've been out of work for too long. What the fuck am I going to do? What am I going to do when Mom & Dad are gone? I don't even own a mower for crying out loud! And if I got a mower, how would I sharpen the blades? I don't even know how to change a damn tire on my car! How am I going to sharpen mower blades? And gas? I have to go get gas in a little can? I've never done that! Can I store that in my garage or is that dangerous? Probably. Then my house will burn down and hell, I won't have anything to worry about because I'll be homeless by that point anyway."

*sigh*

Being me is so tiring.

I look for a job on-line every day. I check the Workforce Development website. I check the big local paper. I check the hospital. I even check the paper 45 miles away. I'm willing to drive 45 miles for a job (but we know I won't in the winter, amiright?) And guess what? There's a whole lot of truck driving jobs. And a lot of other jobs I'm not qualified for or I would fail miserably at.

On top of all that shit that's rolling around in my head, I've gained another 3 pounds. I'm closer to 130lbs than 120. How is this happening? I work so damn hard! I sweat my ass off every damn day! I eat salad for supper for pete's sake! How am I still gaining weight?!? I'm just going to tell people I'm pregnant because now I'm seriously starting to wonder if that's the case...or I have a tumor growing in my stomach...or an alien (which is a baby, right?) growing inside me. I'm going to start wearing maternity clothes.

I'm embarrassed to be seen by anybody. I sucked my stomach in the whole time I was walking the dogs. Or wore loose, flowing tops. My boobs are HUGE! They can't get any bigger! I'm falling out of my bras! They're uncontainable!

Ugh.

I don't mind getting older. I do mind my body changing and not being able to do a damn thing about it. I resent it. I resent the fact that I work out every damn day; I eat healthier than I ever have before; and I'm still gaining weight. I might as well give in and be 500 lbs!

*eye roll*

No, that isn't going to happen. I'll continue to workout because I just can't accept anything less. I'll try harder. I'll sweat more. I'll eat less. Hell, I'll go back on Wellbutrin, if that's what it takes!

For all the shit above, I'm still in a pretty good place. Yah, I don't have a job. Yah, it's not looking good that I'll have one anytime soon. Yah, I'm constantly worried about my future. Yah, I'm a fat ass. Yah, I don't want to be around people. But....I mowed my own lawn today. I spent an hour weeding. I worked out this morning. I smiled when spoken to. I read a book. I started a new one. I'm sleeping. And no matter if they move as far away from me as they can get, I have great parents, great brothers and great family all around the country.

Oh, and I have the best goddamn cat on the planet.

"I like to help the neighbors with their garden. I mean, somebody's got to eat all those veggies!" -Maxine

Last night was the first time all dog-sitting-week that our routine was interrupted. It was raining. We didn't get the storm that other areas got - no real high winds, no really heavy rain - so it wasn't as bad as they were predicting on t.v. I swear, they try to make it sound as bad as they possibly can. I think the weathermen & women get off on getting the public terrified. It's no wonder I don't pay attention to tornado warnings. Those people are like "the boy who cried wolf". 

By 10:30, I was tired and just wanted to crawl into bed to read and cuddle with Elvis. I didn't have the heart to put the dogs in their kennels without at least an opportunity to do their business outside. So we braved the rain (no umbrella - I wore a hoodie so my hands were free to wrangle the dogs) and they were just fine. I figured they'd balk at the rain. They pranced around like they always do. We didn't walk far; just enough for them to do their business. When we got back to the house, they promptly wiped themselves all over my sofa. *sigh* I didn't grab the towel used to dry them fast enough. I can't wait to spray the couch with Fabreze. 

I'm thrilled to find out my parents return late TONIGHT! I thought they weren't getting back until late tomorrow night. What joy to find out I only have ONE MORE DAY to walk the dogs! I can get rid of the poop bag hanging in my garage. I can Fabreze my couch. I can wash my sheets. I can take down the baby-gate and Elvis can roam free. I can spray & vacuum my butt-wiped-rugs. How fantastic! 

I suspect I'm going to go into some sort of shock because I won't have to wake up early to walk dogs; I won't have to pay attention to the clock; I'll be able to sit outside without them crowding me or barking at me. I'm afraid.....I'm going to be bored! Dogs keep you so busy. They require constant attention. 

On one hand, I'm going to be relieved to be released from this responsibility. Freedom! On the other hand, I'm going to miss the little buggers. 

That DOES NOT mean yesterday's post is out-the-window. Oh no. I'm still going to need a week to recuperate from all this activity. I'm going to need a week of no dogs & no people just to lessen my irritability. I think it's safe to say that dog-walking/sitting isn't a job I'll be searching for. 

I failed, already, in my quest to be a snobby bitch and ignore people. A woman (no idea who she is) pulled up to me this morning on our walk, while I was standing still, trying to tie the poop bag and keep hold of two dog leashes. She laughed and said, "They don't look like they want to walk." I said, "No, they just want to sniff everything! It's horrible!" She has two labs so she agreed. 

Fail. 

"I guess the phrase "there's a 50% chance of precipitation" does sound more scientific than "might rain-- might not"." -Maxine

We're in a severe thunderstorm warning. Looks like we'll get rain for most of the evening. Glad I took the dogs out a few minutes ago but what am I supposed to do later, if it's still raining? I can barely handle two dog leashes and two poop bags without dropping a leash and having a dog run away free. I can't hold an umbrella, too. I knew I should have litter-trained these beasts starting the first night!

I've decided I'm just going to stop talking to people. I'll pretend I have laryngitis. Or someone cut out my tongue. Or I suddenly went mute, like hysterical blindness only hysterical muteness. Granted, I'll look like a dork (which I do already so no diff) but at least I won't sound like one, too. I don't know what it is, but it's like I've got flu-of-the-mouth with virtual strangers. I verbally vomit all over them. That's not entirely true, but I always replay the conversations after the fact and wonder, "Why the hell did I say that?"

"Those people are so self-absorbed, they don't care what you said. They're not replaying your conversation in their minds. Let. It. Go."

Here's another reason to stop talking to people...and I'm throwing in not-waving at them either. I just took the dogs out for a walk. I was almost home and ran into my old German teacher. I said "Hi, you!" and while he replied with a "Hi", he & his wife just kept walking. This guy hasn't seen me or spoken to me in years. Isn't he at all interested in what the hell I'm doing? Why did I move back to town? Or at least WELCOME me back home? Nope. Not. At. All.

Right. People are self-absorbed.

Granted, I did have a delightful shouting conversation with a neighbor whose son I dated in high school. He was sitting 20 yards away, in the shade, drinking a beer. I was standing on the sizzling sidewalk in direct sunlight in 90 degree temps. He regaled me with his children's baby-making abilities. "Oh, so & so just had a baby. My son had a baby. My other son has two children!" Like. I. Care. Can I go now?

And another neighbor driving by did stop and chatted for a bit but I just wanted to walk those damn dogs and get back home in the AC.

I'm always polite. It's a curse. I smile. I chat. I have no idea what's coming out of my mouth, but I sure as hell say something. I give a nod of my head as a wave since waving with my hands would choke one of the dogs for sure. The only person who waves at me from their vehicle is the local pervert. Why do I nod back at him, of all people? Because I'm Too. Damn. Polite. It's going to be detrimental to my health one day.

It's no wonder I'm a hermit. I don't think these people like me very much which is o.k. by me as long as I don't hear they don't like me. It's different to think something than to know it. I'm going to become what they'll assume is a snobby bitch. I'm just going to flat out ignore people.

Sorry! Can't talk! I have no tongue.

On another note, I almost drop kicked three other dogs tonight that came barreling out of a house we were walking past, sans leashes, of course. If I let these two dogs out of my house without leashes, they'd be gone in a flash. Well, Scooter would be gone in a flash. Murphy would probably take two steps and have to stop to catch his breath. It amazes me how many people let their dogs roam free, poop in people's yards without care, and nobody does a damn thing about it. *head shake* I am seriously glad I don't own dogs. It would piss me off too much.

Yet another reason to remain a hermit. Mom & Dad, when you return, I'm going to need a week to recover from all this dog-walking and socializing. I'm not going to want to see a dog or a person for at least a week. I need a break.

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. And then when they're not looking, beat 'em." -Maxine

Four days.

Four days is my dog limit.

Four days is the max I can take of 5 walks a day. Four days is the max I can take of Scooter planting himself in the road to sniff yet another tree, pole, fire hydrant, bush or blade of grass. Four days is all I can take of dog smell. Four days is all I can take of watching them wipe their butts on my rugs. Four days is all I can take of the barking. Four days is all I can take of Murphy pushing his food bowl all around the house, then finally dumping it and not even eating one tiny morsel.

Actually it isn't all that bad, though dog-sitting for my folks has really made me appreciate Elvis & cats, in general. The sad thing is, I treat other people's pets better than my own. I ignore Elvis while constantly paying attention to Murphy & Scooter. Only when Elvis "meows", which isn't often lately, do I go spend time with him. I figure he gets me all night while the dogs are kenneled (even though I'm totally asleep). Not quite fair.

I feel bad for the dogs, though. Their masters are gone. They're away from the comfort of their own home (though they seem to be making my home their own just fine). They have to be kenneled all night (though they haven't barked at all after I SHUSH them the first time). Oh hell, I don't know why I feel bad. I told the librarian the other day, "I wish I didn't care so much!" Funny, coming from me.

I cannot wait for my parents to return. Three more days. *sigh*