1/9/2012 11:56pm
The clock strikes midnight. Okay, 1am, but who’s counting...in Kingston, Washington. 2 kids asleep, but one still fighting it by claiming she needs to pee for the 32nd time since 8:45pm. The kitten runs around aimlessly, making thunderous noise for a creature that weighs under 3 pounds, soaking wet. Not that I have seen him soaking wet, but I may consider it if he keeps up this racket. The father of my children snores blissfully, yet loudly nearby, in a noble attempt to provide a soundtrack to my late night writing efforts. The summit of Mt. Laundry has SO not been conquered, the dishwasher has not been unloaded, Christmas decorations are in various stages of not being put away all over my house, porch, yard, and garage….speaking of the garage….it’s not even close to being organized; can’t even see the floor, mostly, matter of fact-QUICK, someone call the producers of Hoarders so I can get my 15 minutes of fame! My minivan, Blackie, okay, she’s not technically my minivan, but she showed up in my driveway a few years back with only a few miles on her, looking as if she had just been dumped by some hot soccer mom with highlights, flat abs, a killer wardrobe, and an organized schedule. I took pity on her, and just to show her who’s boss, I’ve been degrading her perfect appearance, putting too many miles on her, and generally treating her like crap ever since. Obviously she’s suffering from low self esteem anyway, so I just took advantage of the situation. So anyway, she’s now embarrassed to be seen in public because she’s so dirty, not to mention banged up and bruised here and there...THANK YOU, randomly obscure tree trunk hidden in the driveway of my listing in the middle of nowhere, vacant, and NOT heated. In a noble effort to find you a loving new owner, I visited you at 5, oh yes, I did say 5AM!! to turn on the heat, all the lights, the propane fireplace and the Muzak, straighten the pictures, fluff the pillows that I staged you with, and liberally spray Febreeze all over your nasty self, so that out of towners from the sunny state of California would find you attractive-and what thanks do I get? You attack my poor minivan Blackie’s running board with your heinous hidden tree trunk. Blackie already had low self esteem anyway, you didn’t need to give her a blemish! And don’t even get me started on those obscene yellow poles that get in the way of me getting CLOSER to the heaven sent coffee drive throughs (God Bless you, Cup & Muffin!!!). The only thing that I ask is that you remove those hideous yellow poles that stand between me and my caffeine, because they are intimidating Blackie now that they have reached out and hit her so many times. And by the way, would you please, pretty please, consider offering an IV service? When I leave Kingston at o’dark thirty on a Saturday in order to be on time for my 21 or 34 showings in Gig Harbor, or God forbid, Carnation, it would be nice to simply stick out my arm and let you fill up the IV bag with an all day release drip of super sludgy dark black roast. But there is a silver lining to Blackie's deteriorating condition. So she won’t wise up and leave me, I flaunt my power in order to keep Blackie the minivan cowering, subservient, and insecure. As a result, she remains so filthy dirty inside and out that the husband-AKA responsible do-gooder that pays the car insurance premiums-has yet to notice that I have been abusing her. But back to my previous lament, the grass I meant to plant in my backyard last August still looks like plain old dirt for some reason, I haven’t finished Martha Stewart-ing my home or Paula Deen-ing my my humble menu, the dog with chronic diarrhea needs a bath for the 2nd time this week, the cat just puked on the carpet (seriously…can you not walk two extra steps to the wood floor??), I am surrounded by crumbs and fuzz that delight in mocking my every step in my house, I haven’t lost one single pound since my New Year’s resolution to do so took effect about 4 years ago, and I have a pile of work-work , like real job type stuff, to tackle that is at least 3.6 miles high, and yet, I have somehow still found the time to start a blog. So read it, people! Maybe the random thoughts that keep me amused and partially sane will give you a laugh as well.
