Haircutting and alcohol don't mix. Not even a little bit.
Words to remember...
Monday, February 26, 2007
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Weekly Menus
I am turning this blog into not only an online confessional, but a permanent, voyeur's view into my daily, crabbity life. Lucky for you, n'est pas?
Every Sunday, I try like heck to get all the loose ends of daily life tied up so I'll be prepared for the week ahead. You know, laundry put off till the last minute (folded when icy cold-- we like the dishevled look in our family. An employer once asked if I knew how to work an iron. I don't. Some of us are also not big on combing hair, which is always a great combination with wrinkly clothes: I am forever telling the children that if this keeps up, the church will be taking secret collections to buy our poor, unfortunate family clothing and hair brushes. The kids think that would be cool, however, so the threats have fallen on deaf ears. ), backpacks unearthed and their contents examined (only to discover homework at 9pm Sunday night-- whoopsie. We're generally not great scholars, either.), etc and etc. So now is the time I am (avoiding) getting the Everyday Food mags together to select a nutritious and tasty foods for my beloved family (gag! What the hell kind of word is "tasty", anyway? Kindof gives me the creeps)
So here goes:
Monday (night of chaos. I'm never sure what time I'll get home from work, thanks to BS add ons and the disappearing act of the incredible miss K) Grace has musical practice, Jacob has swim class (yes, we are marginal participators in the modern-day cult of "Family Busy-Ness". But only one day of the week. Any more, and my strong slacker-mom instincts would kick in and that wouls be the end of that.): Slacker mom special-- Mufaletta sandwich with sweet potato fries
Tuesday: (working blissful new job; should be home by 4:45 at latest, praise sweet Jesus!): light chicken parmesan, with whole wheat spaghetti/garlic oil/peas
Wednesday: OFF!!! pork cutlets with baby green beans and sauteed red potatoes
Thursday: (work at AHC-K, should be home after 6 Hubby has archery) Jake make something (?)
Friday: (new job, home around 4:45) maybe I'll make Tom Kha Gai (chicken coconut soup) with jasmine rice. Yum!
It's a start... now, to shopping:
Every Sunday, I try like heck to get all the loose ends of daily life tied up so I'll be prepared for the week ahead. You know, laundry put off till the last minute (folded when icy cold-- we like the dishevled look in our family. An employer once asked if I knew how to work an iron. I don't. Some of us are also not big on combing hair, which is always a great combination with wrinkly clothes: I am forever telling the children that if this keeps up, the church will be taking secret collections to buy our poor, unfortunate family clothing and hair brushes. The kids think that would be cool, however, so the threats have fallen on deaf ears. ), backpacks unearthed and their contents examined (only to discover homework at 9pm Sunday night-- whoopsie. We're generally not great scholars, either.), etc and etc. So now is the time I am (avoiding) getting the Everyday Food mags together to select a nutritious and tasty foods for my beloved family (gag! What the hell kind of word is "tasty", anyway? Kindof gives me the creeps)
So here goes:
Monday (night of chaos. I'm never sure what time I'll get home from work, thanks to BS add ons and the disappearing act of the incredible miss K) Grace has musical practice, Jacob has swim class (yes, we are marginal participators in the modern-day cult of "Family Busy-Ness". But only one day of the week. Any more, and my strong slacker-mom instincts would kick in and that wouls be the end of that.): Slacker mom special-- Mufaletta sandwich with sweet potato fries
Tuesday: (working blissful new job; should be home by 4:45 at latest, praise sweet Jesus!): light chicken parmesan, with whole wheat spaghetti/garlic oil/peas
Wednesday: OFF!!! pork cutlets with baby green beans and sauteed red potatoes
Thursday: (work at AHC-K, should be home after 6 Hubby has archery) Jake make something (?)
Friday: (new job, home around 4:45) maybe I'll make Tom Kha Gai (chicken coconut soup) with jasmine rice. Yum!
It's a start... now, to shopping:
On-Line Confessional
I am so completely glad to be off this weekend! And with the addition of the new coffee maker, and the fact that I'm probably getting over whatever virus du jour, I've been pretty awake for most of the time. I think I fell asleep at 7 or 8 on Friday, but mostly it was 'cause there wasn't anything better to be doing.
I've been feeling rather contemplative (hence the tons of posts) in my new alertness, and am trying to make sense of things while I have the chance (before the fog sets in again-- maybe I need to cut back on my drinking?). I am not in any way regretting not working on weekends, and although I loved being home during the day, I really wasn't thrilled to be working in the evenings, especially if I had to work early the next day. I went for weeks being absolutely drained, exhausted, and in full-out survival mode-- which is probably why, now that I'm slowing down, I've completely crashed. It was great to get some bills paid, esp after those evil, dreadfully $$ holidays, but I couldn't keep that pace up forever. My husband works 6 days a week, why should I work a crash and burn schedule as well? Someone's got to keep the home fires burning, and in my absence the whole household falls apart (nobody eats, cleans, nothing gets done, until I get a few hours off to clean the whole damn mess. Women's Liberation be damned! When moms work, they mostly just get screwed.)
I would like to work just enough to have funds to pay the household bills (+/- $1500 month), and have some left over to play with, maybe take a decent vacation (notice I said DECENT. None of this BS camping, boating or other such tortures. I want a nice hotel with a pool, bar, etc, adjacent to entertainment such as the symphony, music halls, parks, art, shopping, tours, etc. I'd really like to go to Austin, TX and Hawaii, and possibly Northern California sometime soon... hubby wants to spend $1200 and 10 hours of ass numbing driving to spend a dull week on a HOUSEBOAT. Blech. So I get to spend a week of no paid vacation cooking and cleaning and swatting bugs while the guys go off fishing, leaving me many more fun hours of ass sitting, doing nothing. Oh joy of joys, could it really be true? Or is it just another dismal nightmare of inactivity I get to endure (I hate HATE sitting doing nothing. Dinking away at this computer is about as inactive as I can stand, which is why I don't do it very often. I can't even watch TV or movies, as I can't stand sitting there, even for an hour show)
Anyhoo, so I'm a bad wife... let this be a lesson to you young, single ladies out there-- opposites might attract, but plan on a life of angst if you are a goer and your mate is a sitter (I remember dragging his putzy rear thru Disney World. He wanted to waltz slooooooowly thru the park, while I wanted to race to the next ride. I ended up missing the opp to ride on Space Mountain 'cause I couldn't get that guy to step it up a little. I have absolutely *no* problem with spouses taking separate vacations-- esp when you have to pay to drag the slow boats around with you everywhere. My next Disney vacation, I'm going alone!) Personally, I think the guys should take their vacation by themselves, and the girls will go to Disney-- I'll have to fly that one by the guys, but I doubt it'll work. I think they want some payback for being dragged thru Disney...
I've been feeling rather contemplative (hence the tons of posts) in my new alertness, and am trying to make sense of things while I have the chance (before the fog sets in again-- maybe I need to cut back on my drinking?). I am not in any way regretting not working on weekends, and although I loved being home during the day, I really wasn't thrilled to be working in the evenings, especially if I had to work early the next day. I went for weeks being absolutely drained, exhausted, and in full-out survival mode-- which is probably why, now that I'm slowing down, I've completely crashed. It was great to get some bills paid, esp after those evil, dreadfully $$ holidays, but I couldn't keep that pace up forever. My husband works 6 days a week, why should I work a crash and burn schedule as well? Someone's got to keep the home fires burning, and in my absence the whole household falls apart (nobody eats, cleans, nothing gets done, until I get a few hours off to clean the whole damn mess. Women's Liberation be damned! When moms work, they mostly just get screwed.)
I would like to work just enough to have funds to pay the household bills (+/- $1500 month), and have some left over to play with, maybe take a decent vacation (notice I said DECENT. None of this BS camping, boating or other such tortures. I want a nice hotel with a pool, bar, etc, adjacent to entertainment such as the symphony, music halls, parks, art, shopping, tours, etc. I'd really like to go to Austin, TX and Hawaii, and possibly Northern California sometime soon... hubby wants to spend $1200 and 10 hours of ass numbing driving to spend a dull week on a HOUSEBOAT. Blech. So I get to spend a week of no paid vacation cooking and cleaning and swatting bugs while the guys go off fishing, leaving me many more fun hours of ass sitting, doing nothing. Oh joy of joys, could it really be true? Or is it just another dismal nightmare of inactivity I get to endure (I hate HATE sitting doing nothing. Dinking away at this computer is about as inactive as I can stand, which is why I don't do it very often. I can't even watch TV or movies, as I can't stand sitting there, even for an hour show)
Anyhoo, so I'm a bad wife... let this be a lesson to you young, single ladies out there-- opposites might attract, but plan on a life of angst if you are a goer and your mate is a sitter (I remember dragging his putzy rear thru Disney World. He wanted to waltz slooooooowly thru the park, while I wanted to race to the next ride. I ended up missing the opp to ride on Space Mountain 'cause I couldn't get that guy to step it up a little. I have absolutely *no* problem with spouses taking separate vacations-- esp when you have to pay to drag the slow boats around with you everywhere. My next Disney vacation, I'm going alone!) Personally, I think the guys should take their vacation by themselves, and the girls will go to Disney-- I'll have to fly that one by the guys, but I doubt it'll work. I think they want some payback for being dragged thru Disney...
Well Caffeinated
Yum! The espresso maker I specifically asked for (i.e. as in "there's one espresso maker left on the shelf at WalMart. Get there soon 'cause that's what I want for my birthday.") is an amazing addition to my daily routine. My kids are even getting addicted to it-- my 9 year old wanders about the house in the morning with his cafe latte, looking oh so sophisticated (and then he flies about the house like a crazed boy, high on caffeine, for the rest of the morn). I'm trying to remember what my mom said about kids and caffeine-- was it that it stunted your growth, or gave you chest hair? I can't remember. Either way, the kids are likely doomed to be goofy like their mom.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Birthday Blowoff
Bleah. Thursday was my 37th birthday.
I got a call from one of my (3) sisters, a call from my mom, and a visit from my stepdaughter, boyfriend, and grandbaby (which was really the nicest, and most unexpected gift of all). I also had the pleasure of dealing with unnecessary drama from my co-worker (see previous post), and spent the day in a sleepy, depressed haze.
Husband made great promises of (finally!) throwing me a birthday party after 12 years together, but he slacked and bungled it royally-- and long story short, there was no party. Every guest that was called was ultimately contacted by me, some only a couple days before the event-- most couldn't come, nothing was planned-- (except that he chose to work the morning of the so called party, so I had to *plan* to do all the cleaning, shopping, and preparation. Happy fucking birthday, indeed). I called the whole embarassing event off the day before, since it would only have made me even more bummed out, cleaning and cooking my butt off all Saturday only to culminate in a lame, poorly planned party with one or two people there. Wah.
On an even sadder note, Hubby made a bold dash to the WalMart at 10pm the night before my birthday (at my daughter's insistence. Otherwise there would have been nothing), and bought the exact one thing I asked for (unwrapped), and my daughter had to steer him away yet again from the ugly, smelly mums I have repeatedly told him you only buy for old people you really don't want to ever have sex with. WTF? One time, my guy made the colossal error of sharing the (probably universal, stupid man secret) that he can't *ahem* get excited about me without visual aids of much bustier and cuter (airbrushed, computer edited) ladies. After telling him what a grave error he committed against the delicate feminine psyche, I instructed him (yes, instructed--he's pretty clueless. He needs to be directed, step by step, preferrably with list in hand. Pictures help, too, but not always, poor bastard) that flowers might help the forgiveness process (duh!). We still weren't speaking when the man eventually presented me with a $2.99 grocery store bunch of hideous brownish mums. BROWN MUMS?!?!? He's lucky to have ever gotten laid since. Truly.
Anyway: the coffee maker was from the kids, and his gift to me was a card (a stupid one, too), which said :"good for one shopping spree". Huh? WTF is that? I once rented a park, called about 30 of his friends, and had catered food and games, music, etc for one of his birthday parties. And he *still* received a proper gift, no doubt. But those days are looooong gone.
I think what threw the poor man was that I didn't want him to invite any of HIS friends and their wives, longtime work friends we really haven't seen or hung out with in years, so he was really put out.
Ohwell, I'm older now-- that part was successful.
But enough of my self indulgent whining; time to get to the library before they close. I've got the explorer version of Rosetta Stone waiting for me, and I'm really looking forward to trying it.
I got a call from one of my (3) sisters, a call from my mom, and a visit from my stepdaughter, boyfriend, and grandbaby (which was really the nicest, and most unexpected gift of all). I also had the pleasure of dealing with unnecessary drama from my co-worker (see previous post), and spent the day in a sleepy, depressed haze.
Husband made great promises of (finally!) throwing me a birthday party after 12 years together, but he slacked and bungled it royally-- and long story short, there was no party. Every guest that was called was ultimately contacted by me, some only a couple days before the event-- most couldn't come, nothing was planned-- (except that he chose to work the morning of the so called party, so I had to *plan* to do all the cleaning, shopping, and preparation. Happy fucking birthday, indeed). I called the whole embarassing event off the day before, since it would only have made me even more bummed out, cleaning and cooking my butt off all Saturday only to culminate in a lame, poorly planned party with one or two people there. Wah.
On an even sadder note, Hubby made a bold dash to the WalMart at 10pm the night before my birthday (at my daughter's insistence. Otherwise there would have been nothing), and bought the exact one thing I asked for (unwrapped), and my daughter had to steer him away yet again from the ugly, smelly mums I have repeatedly told him you only buy for old people you really don't want to ever have sex with. WTF? One time, my guy made the colossal error of sharing the (probably universal, stupid man secret) that he can't *ahem* get excited about me without visual aids of much bustier and cuter (airbrushed, computer edited) ladies. After telling him what a grave error he committed against the delicate feminine psyche, I instructed him (yes, instructed--he's pretty clueless. He needs to be directed, step by step, preferrably with list in hand. Pictures help, too, but not always, poor bastard) that flowers might help the forgiveness process (duh!). We still weren't speaking when the man eventually presented me with a $2.99 grocery store bunch of hideous brownish mums. BROWN MUMS?!?!? He's lucky to have ever gotten laid since. Truly.
Anyway: the coffee maker was from the kids, and his gift to me was a card (a stupid one, too), which said :"good for one shopping spree". Huh? WTF is that? I once rented a park, called about 30 of his friends, and had catered food and games, music, etc for one of his birthday parties. And he *still* received a proper gift, no doubt. But those days are looooong gone.
I think what threw the poor man was that I didn't want him to invite any of HIS friends and their wives, longtime work friends we really haven't seen or hung out with in years, so he was really put out.
Ohwell, I'm older now-- that part was successful.
But enough of my self indulgent whining; time to get to the library before they close. I've got the explorer version of Rosetta Stone waiting for me, and I'm really looking forward to trying it.
snow Snow SNOW!
We're expected to get lots and lots of snow today, which I suppose is ok. I have to connect with the notion that the winter is ALMOST over (thank thank thank GOD!), and spring is nearly on its way-- so I have to keep telling myself that the snow is a temporary novelty; pretty, fluffy, and the last remaining illusion of a fleeting season (wahoo!).
Winter normally drains every last ounce of humanity from me-- generally, I make all sorts of terrible, rash decisions round about now (i..e. pull the kids out of school, put the kids back in school, quit jobs, etc and etc. And it's not nearly the fact that they aren't always the best decisions, but usually the methods I employ are what's regrettable. 'Nuff said). Pharmacologically speaking, I've been well armed this year to keep myself from jumping off the deep end, and I've done ok. Sometimes I do wonder why so much stupid BS happens this time of year (everyone else in the region losing their minds and behaving badly? Probably..) My co-worker at one of my many jobs has been driving me up a tree for really most of the time I've worked with her-- and I do wholeheartedly acknowledge that she is out of her gourd, which is sad (for her, and for everyone around her, unfortunately). But she has been such a royal PITA this past week (on my BIRTHDAY no less), flying off the handle for no apparent reason and not telling what the trouble is (yet feeling compelled to share the info with the boss-- I HATEHATEHATE that crybaby nonsense. Be adult enough to tell a co worker what's going on so it can be rectified directly, instead of running off to tattle. I still have no idea what happened in the rampant hallucinations of her angry mind...)
Anyhoo: it's all well and good that I'm being run off, in the grand scheme of things. I wasn't told in the beginning that I would be expected to work Saturdays (with absolutely no help around. I have no trouble working a weekend now and again, but the safety issue really gets to me), do chemo (with poor folks who so far haven't spoken anything close to english: not even a "no hablo espanol". So far, it's been "no hablo armenian or hmong"-- and I can't come even an iota close to faking my way through THOSE languages. Yeesh.) I'd have to place PICC lines (no freaking way. I see how traumatized those gals look when they come back from putting those monstrosities in), and this constant crazy day shuffling, as if I can't ever know more than a day (hours) in advance whether or not I'll be victim to K's "leaving early today" with no notice (and I seem to keep getting in trouble for that, which is total BS.)
I really like my new position and am looking forward to seeing if they will be able to offer me the .6 position that just came up, but I'm really hoping the "kiss of death" legacy of mine of getting wonderful jobs, only to find they are doomed (through no fault of my own-- really) ends with this Kenosha job.
(case in point, a brief History: All Saints job-- two bosses quit in the months following my hire, and all hell breaks loose. I still have nightmares about that job, where I completely lost my Mojo, which I have spent the past several years trying to recover. fruitlessly.
GTC job: wonderful boss I took the job to work with retires the week before my hire (unbekownst to me). Pandemonium ensues, and morale is shot to hell. Everyone is miserable. Racine AHC: love love love my new job, training is going well on first shift with Wonderful Doc. Soon discover that Wonderful Doc doesn't work the shifts I'll ultimately end up working (weekends, evenings, holidays. Suckity suck enough...), and I'll end up working with Scary, Drug Accomodating Doc who draws in shocking numbers of drug seekers, up to 80 a day-- patients who shake and tremble and have questionable "back pain" for which they are taking every pain med known to man, in quantities high enough to kill a horse. Eek. (this doc has had TWO seasoned, sassy nurses walk off the job and quit on the spot, right before I was hired. TWO. I had no chance with this guy.)
Kenosha job: completely love my co-workers, love the job-- boss hires 2 new co workers, one whom I adore, one who likes to share her stories of her last suicide attempt and stories of her childhood abuse and likes to tattle and leave work without telling anyone (including the boss, apparently). Then the bomb drops that we will now be working Saturdays, we will all be chemo and PICC trained, and, oh, by the way: your co-worker is crazy and has been trying to get you fired. Bleah.
I keep telling myself that perhaps I should be a stay at home mom, but my husband is the tightest man EVER and i like to spend $$ too much. So there you have it. I'm off to spoil another perfectly nice workplace with my legacy of pain.
Tee hee.
I have to say, tho: I haven't heard so much farting and rectal expelling of fluids in all my life at my new job. I'll just have to get used to it-- and try like heck not to laugh. But it's really hard.
Winter normally drains every last ounce of humanity from me-- generally, I make all sorts of terrible, rash decisions round about now (i..e. pull the kids out of school, put the kids back in school, quit jobs, etc and etc. And it's not nearly the fact that they aren't always the best decisions, but usually the methods I employ are what's regrettable. 'Nuff said). Pharmacologically speaking, I've been well armed this year to keep myself from jumping off the deep end, and I've done ok. Sometimes I do wonder why so much stupid BS happens this time of year (everyone else in the region losing their minds and behaving badly? Probably..) My co-worker at one of my many jobs has been driving me up a tree for really most of the time I've worked with her-- and I do wholeheartedly acknowledge that she is out of her gourd, which is sad (for her, and for everyone around her, unfortunately). But she has been such a royal PITA this past week (on my BIRTHDAY no less), flying off the handle for no apparent reason and not telling what the trouble is (yet feeling compelled to share the info with the boss-- I HATEHATEHATE that crybaby nonsense. Be adult enough to tell a co worker what's going on so it can be rectified directly, instead of running off to tattle. I still have no idea what happened in the rampant hallucinations of her angry mind...)
Anyhoo: it's all well and good that I'm being run off, in the grand scheme of things. I wasn't told in the beginning that I would be expected to work Saturdays (with absolutely no help around. I have no trouble working a weekend now and again, but the safety issue really gets to me), do chemo (with poor folks who so far haven't spoken anything close to english: not even a "no hablo espanol". So far, it's been "no hablo armenian or hmong"-- and I can't come even an iota close to faking my way through THOSE languages. Yeesh.) I'd have to place PICC lines (no freaking way. I see how traumatized those gals look when they come back from putting those monstrosities in), and this constant crazy day shuffling, as if I can't ever know more than a day (hours) in advance whether or not I'll be victim to K's "leaving early today" with no notice (and I seem to keep getting in trouble for that, which is total BS.)
I really like my new position and am looking forward to seeing if they will be able to offer me the .6 position that just came up, but I'm really hoping the "kiss of death" legacy of mine of getting wonderful jobs, only to find they are doomed (through no fault of my own-- really) ends with this Kenosha job.
(case in point, a brief History: All Saints job-- two bosses quit in the months following my hire, and all hell breaks loose. I still have nightmares about that job, where I completely lost my Mojo, which I have spent the past several years trying to recover. fruitlessly.
GTC job: wonderful boss I took the job to work with retires the week before my hire (unbekownst to me). Pandemonium ensues, and morale is shot to hell. Everyone is miserable. Racine AHC: love love love my new job, training is going well on first shift with Wonderful Doc. Soon discover that Wonderful Doc doesn't work the shifts I'll ultimately end up working (weekends, evenings, holidays. Suckity suck enough...), and I'll end up working with Scary, Drug Accomodating Doc who draws in shocking numbers of drug seekers, up to 80 a day-- patients who shake and tremble and have questionable "back pain" for which they are taking every pain med known to man, in quantities high enough to kill a horse. Eek. (this doc has had TWO seasoned, sassy nurses walk off the job and quit on the spot, right before I was hired. TWO. I had no chance with this guy.)
Kenosha job: completely love my co-workers, love the job-- boss hires 2 new co workers, one whom I adore, one who likes to share her stories of her last suicide attempt and stories of her childhood abuse and likes to tattle and leave work without telling anyone (including the boss, apparently). Then the bomb drops that we will now be working Saturdays, we will all be chemo and PICC trained, and, oh, by the way: your co-worker is crazy and has been trying to get you fired. Bleah.
I keep telling myself that perhaps I should be a stay at home mom, but my husband is the tightest man EVER and i like to spend $$ too much. So there you have it. I'm off to spoil another perfectly nice workplace with my legacy of pain.
Tee hee.
I have to say, tho: I haven't heard so much farting and rectal expelling of fluids in all my life at my new job. I'll just have to get used to it-- and try like heck not to laugh. But it's really hard.
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