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Monthly Archives: January 2024
The end of January, hallelujah. It’s skunk season and every night about this time Chester is dying to go outside. I know exactly what he’s after; does he think I’m ignorant? He lays at the door and does big deep sniffs and growls and barks his Alert II bark, which is, “There’s something out here, friend or foe, I don’t know, let me out immediately.” And I don’t and he huffs and sulls up on the couch. I don’t like drawing people out. I’m not going to play games about if you’re mad at me and don’t call, I will notice, but I won’t care. If you’re mad enough to do that, man up and call and tell me why you’re miffed at me and give me an opportunity to apologize. If not, it’s likely that I don’t know that I’ve angered you. Like most people, I’m happy-go-lucky in my own little dimension. If I did it on purpose, well, may the Lord be with you. I wanted to write about something serious and thought provoking tonight but I’m sort of skittish about wading into those dark waters. I just know I’d be off down the rabbit hole and probably neck deep before I knew it and too late to turn back because I’d be having all the right words and prose and it would be too good…
I think I’m gonna start writing fantasy. Because people sure do love running their mouths. So maybe if I write something clearly so fictional they’ll at least look incredibly stupid to people they repeat it to. Why are people so invested in one another’s love lives? It brings to mind Taylor Swift. Who freaking gives a hoot who her boyfriend is? And if he’s a football player, shouldn’t she be at the games, cheering him on? I thought that was kinda the point of being in a relationship— a show of support. Or have I missed the point entirely of what people are griping about? I don’t know, and I also haven’t figured out the rage over Stanley cups. I think they’re kinda ugly, and wasn’t Yeti the thing to have? I’m so confused. I just wanna go crawl in a cave and read poetry to my dog. I could use another foot of snow…as long as my power stays on. Anyway, how are y’all? I’m feeling disgruntled, thanks for asking. I need a big dose of GRACE, because my fuse is running very short on a lot of subjects lately. Or maybe it’s running low on certain people. I’m just glad I’m not in retail anymore because it’s just a matter of time before I turn into the main character in a slasher movie. *melting emoji* Just kidding. I can’t afford…
January stretches on. I can’t say I’m sad to see it end, even I have my limits of enduring cold mud. And of course the week of entrapment due to snow didn’t help paint these thirty one days in a favorable light. I have been reading Sean Dietrich’s column for years. I was all about him for the longest. You know we even exchanged a few emails after I won a little contest he had….even though he accidentally announced in his podcast another person as the winner. It wasn’t the end of the world, and he went to the trouble of sending me a specially selected matchbox Chevy truck. After awhile, his columns started getting a bit repetitive, waxing nostalgic about his father who committed suicide. I tried to be sympathetic because we’re told to write what we know about. And writing is good therapy, too. So I got to skimming those. And the baseball ones. I don’t care for baseball, unless I’m watching it in person, in the shade, with a beer in one hand and Cracker Jacks in the other. But to give him credit, he did try to make them entertaining. Then Covid came along, and I was up to my eyeballs with every bit of that immediately. So I quit reading him altogether because of all the triggers. Then he got this blind bloodhound and suckered me back in. But lately I’ve been on the outs…
Another week and weekend, gone in a flash. I feel like I did accomplish a few things, though. And you will be glad to know I was able to fish out my roof receipt. It was just where I thought it would be: with my tax documents from 2020. Thank God for small miracles and my ability to file important documents in a place they can be located quickly. It’s just the procrastination that gets me. I also washed a blanket I was told to never wash and I have ruined it forever. I have washed it before, but I now know there’s an enormous difference between hand wash and delicate cycles. FAAFO. While I’m on the subject of washing…men reading, feel free to exit. You won’t have any input here. Going once, going twice…. Ok. Maybe they heeded my advice. Maybe not. So I see an ad today from Thirdlove that says your bras aren’t supposed to have birthdays. Wait. What? I know for a fact I have bras that are every bit of four years old. I only throw them out when the underwire pokes out. And even then, I don’t want to! I wish I could sew a stitch and I’d fix them up. Bras are EXPENSIVE! Last ones I bought were $75!! I feel like this is a marketing ploy to sell more bras. Now, maybe if you only had one or two and you were wearing them…
You know what’s a conundrum? When you’re hungry, but not too hungry, but hungry enough to know you need to eat a little something or risk waking up starving…but you’re too tired to cook, and too lazy to go get something, and if you do go out, it needs to be something remotely healthy. And so you say to heck with it and fix some Hamburger Helper because it’s delicious and comforting and quick. And you don’t have to put shoes on. The weather has been perfectly miserable. I drove most of the way back from Cookeville in the rain. When it wasn’t raining, it was foggy. Once I got Knoxville, the rain had nearly stopped, but that’s when the traffic congestion started. You cannot win. But the good news is I still made it in just over two hours, there were no super close calls, and I only hydroplaned once 😳 I may not ever get constipated, but I’m discovering I do get writer’s block. I’m sitting here, perched in the corner of my couch, looking around the room and wondering what I could possibly write about. All the subjects in my head seem to controversial. Besides, I’ve already written about the majority of them at least once already. You know, the Selfie Trend, and fake smiles and fake lips and fake lashes and not living in the moment. And how you can be a very pretty girl…
I’m a day late, and I petition you for your grace and understanding. I was in no way shape or form able to write last night, even if I had a subject in mind, let alone the time. And since yesterday was the most exciting day of my year thus far, of course this will be another journal-esque entry. It’s a good demonstration of how one without kids or attachments lives their life. 6:30 and I’m up, drinking water (gonna be too hot for coffee), and doing my Wordle. I get it in three and I was super proud of myself. Aloof, in case you’re curious. Double letters usually give me the devil, especially when the word begins with a vowel. My head just doesn’t wanna work like that. So as I’m sending Lisa a text to say how many guesses it took, as is our custom first thing in the morning, and I see she is typing me something. I figure it’s her Wordle number. But no. “You wanna drive out to Cookeville this afternoon and spend the night and hang out?” And me, with basically no obligations to anyone whatsoever, is like, “Sure! But lemme make sure Angela can let Chessie out in the morning.” Because that dog constitutes the entirety of my responsibilities, apart from work. And lo and behold, Angela could, and I started working out a timetable in my brain of when I should leave, and…
One month exactly since Christmas. Isn’t that crazy? Eleven to go! Hippity hop! No significant report for today. I made my second trek to the post office this morning, trying to beat the crowd. And I reckon I did, because I Didn’t see a soul I knew for maybe the first time ever. Got justifiably aggravated by the Yankee receptionist at the clinic, as she persistently tried to get me to come in for blood work tomorrow morning. Evidently declining politely doesn’t work with her type. You have to yell, in the middle of the aforementioned post office no less, “NO, BETTY, I WOULD NOT LIKE TO COME IN FIRST THING TOMORROW!!!” People give you a wider berth when you get a touch frustrated in public like that, which is also fine by me. I was already in a bad mood because I had to endure sniffling Jake all day, as I tried to eat my eggs over easy, as I attempted to work on the Annual Report, as I tried and failed to compose a thoughtful card to my dear friend in Texas. Cough, cough, cough, sniff, sniff, SNIIIIFFF. Meanwhile, I’m gag-gag-gagging. Plus, did I mention, I had to go to the dentist? Just one irritation after another. All the lifelong day. I won’t even mention the psychos on the commute home. 60 mile an hour tailgater, darting in and out of traffic, getting a whole three cars ahead of me before…
The moon is trying to kill me. Ok, that’s a bit dramatic. The moon refuses to let me sleep. What else can I blame on the moon? I spilled another glass of water this morning. I say another, because I also spilled one Sunday morning. I make myself so mad. Really, I should be thankful it’s merely water and not something sticky. I mean, I spilled coffee today, too, but not much. Just a little as I poured it from the pot. To address yesterday’s post: thank you to those who read my prayer requests. Lisa, Mike, & Squirt have all come to terms with the loss. Their healing agent is going to be a mixed brood of chickens! I’m very excited. I hope to have one of the Polish ones named after me. I told them this is what they should have started with in the beginning, instead of 15 goats and two donkeys. I feel like peafowl are the next logical acquisition. David’s papaw is also doing well, at last check. And so is David. So thank you for the prayers for him and his family, as well. When you wrap someone up in prayer, I can assure you, it is felt. I had a few phone calls today to tug on my heart. My truest friends love me in spite of my honesty, and sometimes because of it. One friend lost her dad in a sudden fashion. She was calling me while…
Why is it I had an idea for my blog subject rattling around in my head all day long and I couldn’t tell you what it is now for love or money? Aughh. Well, I’ll just have to tell you about how I’ve had to part with my alarm clock of at least 15 years. I bought it at KMart, if that tells you anything. I loved the numbers, they were gigantic and blue, which is far superior to red. It was a clock radio, so I’ve been awakened by WIVK, WIMZ, & Electric 94.9 over the course of years. I’ve loved this alarm clock. It had two alarm settings, so it was helpful when I was married, too. No, I’ve never been one of these people who would take their phone to bed and use it as an alarm clock. That just didn’t appeal to me, especially in the years before we had the “do not disturb” option. Talk about making me mad, send some stupid meme at 1 a.m. I’ve always worked, and the two jobs before this one required rising no later than six. And I still had to drive like I was on my way to a fire. But over the last few years (okay, probably six or seven) my beloved alarm clock has been giving me a little trouble. As in the tuner knobs were finicky. The volume would blare, then go to whisper soft…
Y’all ain’t gonna believe this, but I’m typing from my personal laptop. I couldn’t tell you the last time I fired this puppy up. It took it a good ten minutes to get all loaded and stuff. And then I panicked because I didn’t think I could remember my password, but I did, I did!! Why am I on my laptop? Well, y’all remember just yesterday and I was whining about how it was a little difficult typing on my iPad with just one index finger. These tend to get lengthy, in case you didn’t know. So I was planning on busting it out. I bet I haven’t used it 100 hours and I bought it back in 2016 or ’17. There’s probably a timer on here somewhere, if I just knew where to look. Anyway, I said that, but it wasn’t like I was planning on implementing my bright idea in the next 24 hours. That’s one of those things I have to sit on for a week or two then ease into it. Well. I forgot I turned the data off on my iPad this afternoon because I STILL haven’t finished this book, I’m at 77% and I knew I wouldn’t get it done before the digital loan expired. So here I am, stealing from our public library system…
