I'm positive thats not the reason my emotions are, in Southern speak, "as busy as a long-tailed cat in a rocking chair factory", a direct quote from Mr. Jim Dub. Thats another one I forgot to mention, the art of the Southern simile. Really, it is an art form. If you're going to attempt to play the game, I'd suggest trying them out at home with a private audience before dropping it into public conversation. If you're going to make a comparison, Southerners set very high expectations; you'd hate to get crickets on that - awkward!
Around the house tonight, while my emotions play pinball inside of me, I'm trying to prepare for the week ahead as best I can. Last week I only worked 3 days; a nice easing-into of being employed at a real job. This week, the honeymoon is over and I've got a whole 5 days. I've already planned out my wardrobe for all 5 days (yes, because I'm in 3rd grade, and no, I didn't have to have my mom help me with that... because she's not answering when I call her), and I've got some food cooking to be lunch and dinner and probably lunch again this week. The laundry is about finished, and then I'll have it all clean and get it all folded & put away so that I won't have to wrastle it until the weekend.
Speaking of laundry, its so humid down here that we've got to get the washed clothes in the dryer the minute they're done and dry them as fast as possible, otherwise they get a moldy smell. Does anyone else have that problem, and/or have any suggestions as to how to fix it?
I think all I have left to do is plan out the eating for the rest of the week, maybe vacuum and do the laundry thing I said, and then pack my lunch. And then, the final chapter on my weekend will close, and I'll hit the sack. So that prepares me physically, but I'm still kind of wore out emotionally, and not sure how to prepare myself there. I do know that I don't want to back into Handsome's truck again, and so I'm going to need to get the half-hot-chocolate-half-coffee drink ready for my morning commute. And if you don't think coffee counts as mental/emotional, preparation, think again, friend.
Another aside: Most everyone would agree that its not a positive thing to be addicted to something. However, at the same time, it seems almost as if you are not a true adult unless you drink coffee - which is addictive. So its not good to be addicted, but you're not an adult unless you are??? I've never understood this, but in order to be accepted by (read: gave into pressure from) my peers, I've found a way to make coffee bearable for me, i.e.- the above concoction.I'll be honest (because you can't see me when I talk, is probably the main reason), last week was a serious adjustment. And not a comfortable one, either. I'm trying not to *warning: math term* extrapolate the experience too much into what it will be like when I have a real job, even though that is sort of the point of this whole exercise. Because if the working world was just like my last 3 days of employment, its lame and I'm quitting now. Oh, and I'm really not good at dealing with it, either. But Nobibo has promised that it will get better, and I'm sure as I adjust my sleeping, I will be less likely to hit
In a final recap of the week, which if you've made it this far, you deserve:
The potatoes are growing like weeds (which I originally did mistake for them), the spinach is gone, the aphids are fleeing, and the tomatoes/peppers are budding. Zucchini is a big weenie, and flops over every time I water it with just a wee little bit of zeal. Its also flowering but refuses to produce anything useful (although, according to Food Network, zucchini flowers are a food of sorts).
Handsome is working his tail off, but I believe the painting job from way back when is finished and over with. If you'll recall, we did that job to pay for the damage I did to his truck the first go-round, and so I'm really hoping that last week's little blunder does not lead to me holding a roller again, although I might deserve it. Come July, I think he just might have some time on his hands. I don't know if he remembers what thats like, but I'm sure he'll catch on quickly.
Oh, and Duke-a-loop can't have nice things. here's why:
|He thinks that pulling out the Elvis lip is going to help him.|
Little does he know, I'm not even that big of a fan!
Ha! So there!
|Look at this. Seriously.|
Oh, did I mention it took 47 seconds to rip this apart?
|The casual observer might think that he looks repentant.|
Do not be deceived.
He wants to eat it, but knows I'm watching.
|See that face? No shame.|
Is it weird that he has brown eyes? I feel like they should be black.
Like he didn't match his shoes & his handbag or something.
|Apparently, he can have oranges.|
And strawberries, and carrots, and peaches,
and watermelon, and cantaloupe, and broccoli.
Is any of that stuff poisonous to a dog?
Oh, and if so, pretend I was speaking hypothetically.