Thursday, March 29, 2012


I realized yesterday afternoon that I completely forgot to write on Monday like I had promised.  Apologies.

Forgetting things is something I am sadly very good at.  I forget where I put my phone, my keys, my purse, the lip balm, gift cards, you name it and I can forget where it was last put down.  I also forget to do things I said I'd do - laundry, dishes, or pretty much any other kind of household task or errand will slip my mind as though it had never been.

S. groans over my apparent sieve of a brain and the fact that I put everything into my phone but quite frankly, I can't afford to forget everything that I would forget if I didn't have little reminders for myself.

Reminders aren't always available and what do you think happens?  I'll tell you.  Yesterday I spent 40 minutes looking for an allen wrench key at work and never did find it.  We use it to unlock the bars on the doors so they can just be pushed open instead of requiring effort.  The door can be unlocked without the allen wrench, and even then we have a spare but it still niggles at my brain.  Where the hell did it go?

I might never remember.

Or I might remember out of the blue in three days, like I remembered to write here.  In three days it'll be my weekend so there will be precious little I can do about it but at least I'll know where the damn thing went.

So you can see why, for me, better late than never is a really, really apt saying.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Next stop, Procrastination Station

Why is it that every time I have a day where I could write, uninterrupted, I don't?  Instead I spend the day doing things like the following:

Having a long shower.
Doing my hair and makeup.  Gotta look pretty for the computer.
Taking Z. for a long, long walk.
Planning the supper menu.
Paying bills.
Doing banking/books.
Playing XBox games.
Phoning XBox because of a stupid clerical error that indicated that I wanted to renew my Gold Membership when, in fact, I did not (that error is locking me out of any games that require downloadable content - so far, all of them).
Checking the mail.
Checking my email, Facebook and Twitter.
Playing with Z.
And then...
Doing a little wee bit of writing.

And S. will be home soon and there will go my uninterrupted writing time.

At least I'm feeling better today.  I had a wicked ear infection over the weekend and now understand why babies cry so badly when they have one.  Ear infections hurt!  There is no way to hold your head that doesn't include pain of some kind.  Thank God for antibiotics.  Of course it never occurred to me that I could also take pain killers because that's just not how my brain works.  I'll remember for next time, although I really hope there isn't a next time.

It's a lovely day in my part of the world.  The Balcony Babies are out on their balconies, playing in the sun and screaming at each other.  They come and go as they please, the doors left open for them, going up to the bars that separate them and screaming some more.  They're both wearing clothes which is unusual.  Typically one is in a diaper and the other in a shirt and diaper combo.  Today they both have shirts and pants.  It's a miracle.

I've got a busy week of work ahead of me.  We're launching our annual spring family event and my project for it isn't quite done.  This year has been flying by - I didn't actually realize we were a week away from launching until we were a week away from launching.  It feels like I've been finishing things in a last-minute rush but I'm not the only one so that's reassuring.  Either I'm still on schedule or the time got away from everyone.

Of course when you procrastinate, it's amazing how often that will happen to you.

Monday, March 12, 2012

That Time of Year

I'm doing taxes today.

I'm not feeling particularly creative or wordy.  Numbers are running around my head in loops, screaming their importance to an uncaring world.  Z. keeps wanting to sniff and disrupt my piles of receipts, taking keen interest in the milage record book.

Now that she spent 40 minutes running at the dog park she'll be less intrusive.  It's hard to eat paper when you're sleeping in the sunny patch on the floor.

Taking a break was good for me too.  A mild refreshment for my brain so it doesn't get overloaded and shut down.

But now the break is over and it's time to get back to the screaming, racing numbers.

Monday, March 05, 2012

Hello Again

Well, I haven't posted since November.

I've been working on other projects, which is poor comfort for anyone who has come here looking for fresh new words.  But I have been writing which is much comfort for my soul, as well as for anyone who has to spend any time with me.

I am planning on being more regular with my posts - as in, once a week instead of once every six months.  I might start with one a month, or every couple of weeks, but I promise I'll work up to once a week.

Once a day just isn't going to happen though.

I just sorted through a year's worth of paper on my desk (fortunately for me, it was this year's worth so only a few months, haha) and found all kinds of journals scribbled on yellow legal paper, journals I write while at work.  Most of them are about the various parents I'm watching and judging.  Some of the regular parents who come by are jewels, and so are their children.  I don't mean they behave all the time - but when they do misbehave, their parents actually follow through on whatever consequence has been promised.

The parents I judge harshly can't get their progeny's attention even after (or probably because of) repeating their name twenty times.  They say they're leaving in five minutes and wind up staying two hours (with five minute warnings throughout).  The kid throws a tantrum and the parent threatens, and the kid gets their way.  I really don't like those parents, but on the plus side they are showing me what not to do in the event that I ever have children.

I want to be a jewel parent, not a "dear Lord in Heaven, here come those people again" parent.

If I look at Z. I'm afraid I'm somewhere in the middle.  But at least right now she's being quiet...because we gave her a pizzle, aka dog candy.  Sigh.  We totally bribe her to be good.  At least we're aware of what we're doing.