The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

So I’ve decided after a little soul searching and a trip down memory lane…that I am not throwing the towel in…I will make my way out of the ABJ and back into a life that makes me feel alive.

Lately I have noticed that I feel like a half dead version of myself.  All day long I sit at a desk listening to idiots who DON’T listen to me…I swear I have to repeat information at LEAST three times…No our hours are 8-5….they are eight to five.  Yeah if you ask me a third time they still DON’T change! WOW!

Also people I don’t make the rules….I know I may have told you something else the first time, well then someone else gave me a new rule to follow so I do so.  Yes I know this isn’t how it worked last time.  I am sorry for the confusion but this is how it is NOW I am following what others tell me…you can look at me and ask me in as many different questioning sentences as possible I still will not change what I have to say.

I also love how people look at me and cock their head when I tell them my schedule….Really yes I know I work shitty hours that change ALL WEEK LONG –you don’t need to look at me like that to remind me.

Also please do not tell me “wow you have a college degree and you are doing this”

Do you want my death to be on your hands?  Because I can make that a possibility-don’t tempt me or fate for that matter.

Now here is the sick truth readers….I am thinking of going back to school.  I just can’t make the decision for certain if that is what I should do because let’s face it I have bills and at least have to pretend to be an adult and I really am not sure how good of a multi- tasker I am.  But it’s an idea I’ve been throwing around my head….I would love to have a masters degree….and I like school so it seems like a win, win situation.  I just have to solidify myself on what I want to be when I grow up because let’s face it there is a difference between what I think would be a awesome job and what could actually make its way to reality. 

Also I miss my creative endeavors that made me feel like me…I miss dancing…and acting…and hanging out with friends…..i miss writing more than I do currently and I really want to love what I do…so I decided every night I need to put some time to these uses..whether that be exercising, blogging, or job searching it will be done….Wish me luck!

GBU2

Told you they were real…..

Especially when the rules are EVEN in the comics

Well, we already knew I was evil……….so why try and change?

Me: NOT IT NOT IT NOT IT

Hubby: UMMM no…you are not getting out of it this time!

Me: Yes I am.

Hubby: No you are not. I KNOW you see cat puke some mornings and you just walk past it!

Me: That’s not true, I get up when it is still dark out! How could I possibly see any puke? (insert evil smile here)

And that, my friends, is the truth. Cross my heart and hope to die….

Let me paint a picture for you…..

Hubby and I are sitting at our computers (he just got back today)

When all of the sudden….

Hubby: EWWWWWWW

Me (slight hesitation): What?

Me (not missing a beat): NOT IT!

Hubby: UGH. Patches just barfed up her whole dinner!

Me: Welcome home, see we missed you!

And that, my friends, is why Hubby is glad he is back!

A couple of weeks ago, I took a furlough day. What did I do with this wonderful day? I picked weeds.

(Note: Apparently, the NOT IT rule doesn’t work on weed picking. I want to see that fine print, Hubby.)

Not.Fun.

I used to think it would be amazing to live in the desert because of the lack of lawn maintenance, especially after moving from CT, where we had a yard the size of a medium jungle. Which was OH SO MUCH fun to maintain. So, once we got out West, I had a new-found passion for rocks. You know good ol’ rocks. You don’t have to mow them, you don’t have to clean them, you don’t have to maintain them. They simply just sit there and look pretty, so I thought.

BOY WAS I WRONG. How, you ask?

An infestation of weeds. We are not talking little, tiny weeds we are talking BIG, GYNORMOUS, HUGE Tree weeds. And not only are they HUGE, but their roots and stalks are the width of a paper towel roll. WHA?

Moral of Story: I HATE rocks. They are evil, they are NOT easy to maintain, and I guess I am just not cut out for yard work. AND I am lazy.

NOT IT Rules REINVOKED.

SO, the parents were visiting  last weekend. And I was explaining the NOT IT rules to them, which made them laugh. Actually,  Hubby and I were having a standoff in regards to the vomit by our bed. See why.

After explaining the rule, while we all watched Hubby clean up the vomit, I learned of the way my parentals dealt with the NOT IT rule way back when (yea, they are old school); it’s weird that they were that clever back in the day.

Dad (talking to Hubby): Ugh I know all to well what it is like to clean up cat puke.

Mom (under her breath): pshaw.

Dad: Yea, I usually had your mom clean up the vomit because I don’t know how.

Me: HA HA HA HA! What do you mean?

Dad: Well, your mother knows what special products to use on the carpet so it wouldn’t stain. I didn’t. So, it was better that she do it.

Me: 1. I don’t believe that and 2. I am going to use that now too!

Hubby: Don’t give her ANY more ideas!

And that, dear readers, is NOT it old school style.

Lesson of the day: Never underestimate me because I am THAT good. 

I have just gotten out of bed, despite the fact that the pets have been at me for hours trying to wake me up to feed them—-banging my head, meowing, doing my hair, pawing at the blinds, whining, crying, vomiting, you name it they did it. But, I have not moved, not even flinched in fear of them seeing any sign of movement. It is better they think I am still asleep, so they can move on to torment someone ELSE.

Eventually, Hubby finally gets his sorry you know what out of bed to feed them, after I literally push him out of bed. I mean, it is ME who feeds them all week long, it won’t kill him to do weekend detail.

After he comes back to bed, and I get up, he sidesteps the vomit and snidely says:

Hubby: NOT IT!

Me: Doesn’t count!

Hubby: Yes it does!

Me: Nope, I called sometime around 4:30ish AM, not my fault you didn’t hear it. So, you already lost your chance.

Beat that!

Hubby: It doesn’t count if I don’t hear it.

Me: Yes it does…because you were right by me…you just CHOSE not hear me. IT COUNTS!

UPDATE: Rae heard me call NOT IT at 4:30. I WIN.