So a friend on the facespace messaged me, concerned because she knows I'm "one of those organic types" and she'd heard about a recall of organic spinach. That actually IS the brand I usually buy, but I have been too broke to go to the Big Box Store where I usually get the stuff, and am using kale in my smoothies instead for the time being. So hahaHA, universe, ya missed me!
In other news, I tried Ener-G gluten-free pizza shells. I purchased a pack of two and had one for dinner last night (and breakfast this morning). It was edible, but just "eh." Glutino Table Crackers, on the other hand, are pretty darned good, although my opinion may have been swayed by OMG CRACKERS excitement.
Today I am off, so Hotter and I took my cash tips for the week to the feed store to get chicken feed (finally) and a bale of compressed alfalfa for the bunnies.
The total was thirty-two dollars and change, and I pulled a wad of singles out of my purse and counted out thirty-three of them. The teenaged cashier raised an eyebrow.
"Waitress, not stripper!" I clarified, because I've gotten that look before (and even had a skeevy dude behind me in line at the grocery store be so bold as to ask me where I dance after seeing my currency--that was...interesting). The cashier burst out laughing, and told me I'd made his day. "Waitress, not stripper, haaaa," he repeated, laughing.
Hotter merely pointed out that I'd made myself look guilty.
Today, Hotter accompanied me to Squatter Workshop and learned why I don't like to wait until night-time to check for eggs when he thrust his arm into the henhouse and encountered the entire MFA Flock (all four of them) roosting in there. "GAHHHH, why are you all in there?!?" he yelled, feeling around. I asked if there was an egg (they're still molting) and he said "I don't know! All I can feel is legs! And they're WARM! It freaks me out that their feet are both warm and scaly! It's like a hot pot of lizards in there! Nothing but feets and claws and OH HELL NO IS THAT POOP?!?" And that is why I like to check for eggs by daylight.
Me: Imma need a quickie divorce, okay? Hotter: WHAT. Me: A mousetrap went off at the end of the partially-drywalled wall in Squatter Workshop, and the force of the snap propelled it BEHIND the drywall, and there is PROBABLY a mouse in the thing but it may or may not be bloody, gory, or even all the way dead. I need you out of my life so I can remarry someone with the balls to stick their hand behind the drywall, blind, and retrieve that trap, and it needs to happen within forty-eight hours before the thing potentially starts to stink. Hotter: I divorce you, I divorce you, I divorce you.
Well, I'm pretty sure this is all real, since I'm still coughing up a lung (WHAT? INORITE!), toothless (the crown is in fabrication, the temp already fell off and it's the holidays), and overdrawn (due to something NOT my fault for a change, but the fee is the same either way), but other than that PINCH ME, I WIN ALL THE HOLIDAYS! The children were thrilled and grateful with their gifts, Hotter and I are just happy to have each other, and this morning I PWNed my ex-husband so hard...y'all I do not say this lightly but never in ten years of unholy matrimony did I so thoroughly manipulate and fuck that man as I did on my front lawn this morning, and I won't blog specifics but if you're friends with me on the Facespace you know how good, how deserved, and most importantly how HILARIOUS it was...YES! So while I'm still fat and cranky, and riding the wave of the Great Steroid Taper of Aught-Twelve, and therefore have ABSOLUTELY nothing nice or worthwhile to say at the moment, MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!
So whenever I haven't been at one of the three jobs, for the past week I've been cleaning. My back may be permanently effed. We're all shopped for the holidays, but haven't had time to celebrate any. And then in the middle of everything, as I'm butchering a rabbit in the kitchen sink in between dumping Andes crumbles (for baking, but HAHAHA right, I'm totally doing that this year!) down my carb-hole, Hotter will go "hey--" And I'll turn around and--
"You've kinda gotta take a sec and ADMIRE the bat-wing. It's so VEINY!"
He got me with "the brain" yesterday, too. I'm just calling it a win if we get through this real-estate emergency without "the goat" making an appearance, because if I go back to work limping nobody will ever believe me when I tell them the REAL reason my ass is bruised.
Also, you kind of have to admire the balls of any man who'd do that to a frantically stressed-out woman wearing a rabbit as a puppet and brandishing a boning knife.
Y'all, my spirits were just in the shitter today, for so many reasons.
Then I came home and checked my e-mail, and found that Jessica Dennis had reached into my brain and pulled out all the badness and spun it into PURE AWESOME. This new header is all that's right in my world right now, but hey, it's a start.
Hotter is sorting, making bundles of recyclables, kids' clothes for Goodwill, burnables, and just junk. I am scrubbing and shopping and baking and setting up.
We're gonna make this place look GOOD for the holidays, and if we end up having to pack up and restore to move-in condition, well, it'll be that much easier.
I've kind of come to a place of being okay with whatever 2013 brings us. When I got home from work Hotter was like "are you on drugs?" And I said "well, I used to be the only one at work who did it, like I'd sneak off by myself to keep from going crazy, but then I got Co-worker and Boss to try it and now all three of us will nip out to an empty meeting room and do it together, and it helps, because our job is really high-stress and physically demanding, and we're crabby and we hurt...today we really needed it with this holiday function thing..."
Hotter's eyes got bigger and bigger. I work with some crazy people, folks who'll do ANYTHING.
"I showed them how to do Sun Salutations, and we'll just all hit the deck for five reps and then we rock and roll. I'm doing yoga again."