Silver White Winters that Melt into Spring....

These are a few of my favorite things..

when the rain stops
when I can shop
when I'm feeling cruel
I simply take out all my anger on you
and then I don't feel so bad......

My mood is saying PMS, my calendar is saying "way too early". When Bob walks by me, chews food, tells a story with his hands flinging all over or breaths loud enough for me to hear I cringe, and that is so PMS and yet it is happening weeks early. I even had the bitching post premature, that, also, is so PMS time.

Maybe the move has put me into an extended bad mood that doesn't end or maybe I am tired of being stuck in the house answering the work phones, anticipating spring coming and knowing that with that comes golf, hours and hours, endless hours of golf for my dad, which means endless hours of being stuck in the house anytime the sun shines or the temperature is above 55 degrees, rain or not.

I'm bored, I 'm confined and like a caged animal, I fight back..maybe even towards those that want to help. I get mad at myself for always falling back into the same traps, over and over. It may be my imagination, but sometimes I feel the extreme understanding or consideration shown to me at times always has a price. My dad gave me time off to move, which seems reasonable to most people, but which, in his case, is a BIG FREAKIN' DEAL, cause time off for anyone other than him, is not acceptable. But it is like some bait to set me up with and I take it and SLAM...trapped again. The early calls, the never-ending requests to take care of the simplest of tasks during his brief answering of the calls, the schedule this, call them,take care of that .........and the way I feel obligated after the time off.

Brooke still wants to go home and finding these pictures in the box of our old house didn't help. She carried one around Sunday, of the outside of our house all decorated for her 2nd birthday. She screamed, "Dat my home, Mommy, take me dare!" with lots of her usual, sad and pathetic "I wanna go home" s too. Failing to adjust in a timely manner must be genetic.

Being happy or content is hard work when forces that seem uncontrollable are working against it so often. It doesn't help that I find myself getting way too caught up in them all, but, damn, another easy trap to fall into, for me. I get so freakin' tired of my own complaints because most of them I hold inside. Can you imagine how long that list must be? Can you imagine that poor souls that have to listen to my outloud ones are not even aware that there is even more, so MUCH more? I suck.

Of course it could be none of these things. My mood, aside from PMS times, is directly related to my bank account. The lower the balance gets, the lower I get too. The balance is pretty damn low this week.....yeah, that must it.

The Week in Bitching.

We made the decision for Bob to take a vacation the week after the weekend we moved. We both worked our asses off for the last six weeks getting this place together and clearing out the old house. I thought it would it make a nice transition and get everyone used to the new house by spending some down time here in the beginning. We could map out our routines a bit and just chill.

Bob, instead, took a side job for the week, every f'in night of the week from 3:30 pm til 8-9pm...did I mention every Sob'in, F'in single night since we moved in??!!?? Don't get me wrong, it was not so much that I missed him or anything as romantic and wonderful as that. It was that he screwed up the routine that matters most...MINE!!

I work from home from 9ish or 10ish til 5 pm daily. While working, I have toddler insanity, work insanity and just my regular old insanity spinning out of comtrol all at the same time. Bob gets home at 345pm, on a non-vacation week. Brooke runs to Daddy to sit and cuddle in front of the TV, thus giving me a chance to get dinner together while finishing the work day...WITHOUT THE SCREAMING TODDLER. Then, after dinner, I have the option to actually leave and get away from my little prison to run to the store or whatever......didn't have that this week. In fact, everyone left to go do what THEY wanted as I was left here too tired to pack Brooke up and actually leave this place.

I did get to go to darts on Wednesday, but not before near nervous breakdown as I tried to look presentable enough to leave the house with Brooke emptying all the drawers in her room and painting a wall with eye shadow. My getting ready experience went something like this...apply foundation, hear a crash, run out calling to Brooke, see drawer on floor, tell her to come help mommy get ready, she declines, go back to bathroom, powder face, hear injury cry, run out again, find Brooke on kitchen floor crying, pick her up, hold her, tell it will be okay, turn on Dora tape, go back to bathroom, start brushing hair, hear more yelling...she wanted to watch Barney, not Dora, change tape, back to bathroom, start on hair again, hear Brooke screaming my name, run to check, she wants me to watch it with her, explain to a 3 year old why I can't, three year old tantrum, hear a door open, see Travis, call for back up, back up fails, decide to go as I am and run the hell out the door.......just your regular day minus the usual yelling as I get ready to Bob, "Can you come get her for like ten minutes??? Please!!!!!!!!", because of course he had that side job that was such a wonderful f'in idea! Asshole.

Life in the new house seems like a lot of unending work for me during the day too, cause now Bob has taken up doing "projects". He will disappear into some room in the house, I will hear drilling sounds, pounding of a hammer, and then three hours later he will call me in, all proud-like, so I can see the new pole he installed for hanging clothes. Ummm..okay....I could have built a walk-in closet with all that time and noise, but whatever...yeah, great.

Even as I write this today, Cassie and Brooke on my bed, right next to me, fighting over pictures. I brought out an old box of photos and every picture Cassie touches, Brooke screams "Gimme MYYYYYYYYYYYY picture!!!!!". Why they are her's I have no idea, but she wins cause I don't feel like hearing the shit. Cassie, being the torment that she is, continues to grab them and say "my picture" so that Brooke can scream and cry even louder. To which I yell," Give her HER pictures!!". She can have anything in the house as long as she stops screaming!!

As, part of the week in bitching, I would also like to complain about the weather. The cold, wet, miserable, ruining my life, weather. I so wanted to start on the patio and let Brooke out to play, but the weather sucks big time. It taunts me, on purpose, I'm sure of it.

Everything and everyone does...at least this week. This week can suck my ass.

Friends.

(**Bonus post today, wrote this the other day and forgot to publish it on blog**)

My niece brought us this picture of Brooke and her daughter, Briona from a Christmas party we went to together. It just makes me smile and reminds me what a wonderful thing a friend can be.

I think of Brooke in a world of bigger people, since she was a later in life baby and all her siblings are over five feet tall. An early visit, by cousins her own age, were just glimpses for her, something interesting to look at as they lay side by side on a" blankie", studying one another. Then she started walking and manipulating the world around her, playing with toys, figuring out what she had to press to make them talk or move. Then the visits changed. There was this other little person she could relate to that ran in circles, had on a "Dora" shirt that she pointed to and yelled "RORA!!", and someone she could look at eye to eye without straining her neck to look up at them. Just someone that understands without a word.

They would see one another when we met to go swimming or just hang out and their joy was overwhelming. They jumped and wiggled around yelling one another's names, looking at each other and then back to their mommies so we could share in their joy too as if to say "Look,its my friend, its someone just like me!!"

As we get older, we cease to jump up and down at the sight of our friend coming through the door, but the feelings don't change that much. We smile, share a funny story, laugh together, talk through struggles with one another and share everything without fear. Inside we are still saying ,"Look, it is someone just like me, someone that understands me".

The Scales of Life.

If you were optimistic, you would see it as "every cloud has a silver lining", if you are me you see it as quite the opposite or "something good always follows with something bad". Like Newton's third law of motion.."For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction", it seems to cross over into just about everything.

We moved and it isn't that I do not like the house, it is that I miss my old one. It is a good thing in most every way and yet some negative emotion tries to take center stage. Another example, less obvious, happened last night. I went to darts and did not have a few beers as I normally would. I won three games and , like, I never win games...so it was a good thing, but when called upon to "do the catwalk" in a salute to an old friend I could not do it in a sober state. No beer equals better darts, but it also equals no buzz and no courage. (it is that 80's thing again, we use beer to be "fun" and, well, damn, it is a hard habit to break)

Think of an emotion as pure and wonderful as love. The same love that can take you to higher places can also break your heart. The sun can lift your spirits, give you a healthy glow of tan, warm the day, but it can also burn you and give you sun poisoning with oozing blisters. The same child that fills you will pride can bring you to tears. The better the emotion, the bigger the opposite reaction.

It isn't just emotional things either. The best tasting food is always the worst for you, exercising causes soreness, cigarettes cause cancer, and shopping makes you broke. All good, enjoyable things, all with terrible downfalls.....the scales that tip in your favor always even out with a quickness.

I guess it is the whole moderation thing people speak about..."everything in moderation", but that doesn't always work. Sometimes you have to be too emotional, eat an extra gob of icing, drink alittle too much, and do things that are just bad for you. Sometimes the good part is worth the bad and sometimes you have no choice in the matter.

Life is totally a balencing act. Each second you try and draw out the good to keep from falling apart. Every once in a while you do feel like you are tipping the scales, but reality always adjusts them back for you. Reality sucks.

The Move is Complete, the Backache is Unending..

We are officially moved in. Most things are put away where they belong,the rest is piled up on the back patio and needs a "Sanford and Son" sign. It looks quite scary out there and I am sure the neighbors appreciate it. We will get to it this week. I said many times during the move that I felt like I was trying to put 50 gallons of water into a 20 gallon tank. Pitching out 30 gallons is not an easy task. Before we moved we got rid of about half of our crap and now we need to go thru what we thought we must keep and get rid of at least 50% more. Yawnnnnnnn.

It really is starting to take shape. The furniture was delivered yesterday, minus one back-ordered loveseat and I have gotten a few little things here and there for decorations...I need more, but that will take time and hours of shopping around, which should seem like fun, but right now, feels like another chore. So, in time, it will get finished.

We will complete Cassie's room, hopefully, by this weekend or next. I started priming the new walls last night, but my back would not cooperate and I had to leave it til I was in less pain, or, in others words, maybe never. I may have to call in a back-up painter if things don't improve with my back, cause I know there is no one in this house I would trust with a paint brush.

The house is already starting to feel like home. I am not sure if that is because since we lived here it has been a never-ending stream of visitors, family, friends, and utility guys, but it definitely has that chaotic feeling now that we lovingly refer to as "being home again". Strangely enough, we really do love that. It was like that in my home growing up, in my home now and I imagine it will be that way in my children's home someday as well. We crave chaos, noise and insanity, it is genetic.

Now, I just can't wait to walk upright again, without limping and without being all bent over and in excruciating pain.

Misty Water-colored Memories..............

The falling asleep early has ended. I should be tired, and maybe underneath all the tears, there is "tired". The tears are not for regret, just for something forever changed.

I'm a sap. I am an emotional person when it comes to certain things and this qualifies. I am looking at my scenery, that I have lived in for eight years, for the last time tonight. A place where I watched a not so tall, skinny 11 year old grow into a 200 pound, 6'4", 19 year old, where a 9 year old that rode anything with wheels is now a year into his driver's license, where a little 5 year old girl used to dance in the living room for hours, but at 13, instead sits chatting online for hours and where my 3 year old was born into the only house she's even known.

There were so many hard times here, mostly financial, but so many good times too. It is the good times I am thinking about tonight, for the most part. The Christmas mornings, birthday parties, and just the times when we all sat around the living room laughing, fighting, remembering old times and just being together.

It is hard to leave home. Especially when you didn't always foresee it coming. It is hard to imagine that in future years we will say "Remember when this happened, in our "old house on 8th Street". Someone else will live here now and make their own memories in our home. That will be hard until the new house becomes "our home". There is no way to predict when that will take place,it seems to just creep up on you after a long, busy day of running. You say, "I just want to go home"...for awhile you secretly think of the old house, but then, out of nowhere, one day you say it and you mean the new one. You walk your tired, worn out body thru the front door, you look at your surroundings, sink into your couch or bed and get this secure, warm feeling, like "It's so great to be home....".

It is also a fresh start with many good things and great memories to create, there is so much to look forward to and I will eventually see it, as soon as I am ready to stop looking backwards...but not just yet.

So, it's the laughter, we will remember....................

Yup, total sap.

Things I Have Learned

Most of us have seen the "things I have learned" e-mail, this is my version...............

Things I have learned:

That sometimes help is too much help and saying,"no" is sometimes the most supportive and loving thing you can do for someone else.

That life isn't fair. Trying to make it fair, even with the best of intentions, makes life, not only, STILL, not fair, but miserable too.

That replacing resentment and anger towards the wrongs that have been done to you, with forgiveness and acceptance for the other person, is the best thing you can do for YOU.

That being the bigger person in most any situation usually makes you the happier person too.

That when life goes to hell, friends make it heaven again.

That learning never stops and sometimes the best lessons come later than you expected.

That everyone that ever entered into my life, whether good or bad, taught me something about myself and changed my life, often for the better.

That I can be in the best company in a crowd, lonely by myself... or vice versa.

That life is speckled with bad things so that we can recognize the good things and truly appreciate them.

That you have to suffer to get stronger, go threw pain to get well and cry it out to be happy again. Bad times are just a better you under construction.

That, after a passing, the one that cries the loudest is doing much better than the one taking it remarkably well.

That the way people love varies and that I have to be open enough to accept love differently than I give it or expect to receive it.

That correcting, criticizing, or insulting someone with the purpose of helping is not only unnecessary, annoying and thoughtless, but extremely unhelpful.

That our kids teach us so much about ourselves. Watching mini-me's making the same mistakes you did helps you to see the error of your own ways.

That I can see, understand and fix other people's issues, but when it comes to mine, I'm legally blind.

That under-reacting to everything is always better than over-reacting, for you and everyone around you, too.

That men are not as bad as they seem when you realize they are wired completely different and that they don't "get us" either.

Blah , Blah , Blah

So tired of working on the new house, but more tired of talking about working on the new house...so I could talk for thirty minutes about the cleaning of the old house, the dead insects you find in the windows, the dust bunnies you never noticed in dark corners or the pennies, all the flippin' pennies you find, well EVERYWHERE! But, I don't wanna. I have been doing some unusual stuff, like falling asleep at 1030pm. As much as I detest people that fall asleep that early and like it, I actually liked it a teeny, tiny bit cause, like, when you wake up at 630am, you aren't as tired as when you fall asleep at 3am. Neat, huh? Bob is on my last nerve, but to keep things fair, I am on his too. We both have about a zillion things to do and one of us always has to have Brooke along for the job...lately it has been me..so I am extra cranky. ( Am I talking about something to do with the house? Shoot me now, please.) I'm hopeless.

Adult Attention Deficit Disorder or Just Whacked?

This is a screening I found after a friend told me to look for a questionaire/screening thingy at www. I Can't FreakinRemember.com on ADD...which we were both convinced we have at this point...

You experience more than 10 points on this adult ADD self symptom test,
Attention Deficit Disorder is likely present.

An internal sense of anxiety (Hell YEAH!! "Hell yeah" to first symptom on a disorder screening is always encouraging)

Impulsive spending habits (I would say no, but if I had a lot of money, I could easily change that answer not only impulsively, but with a crazy quickness)

Frequent distractions during sex (Hard to tell since I rarely have it, but I am usually not distracted in those two minutes)

Frequently misplace the car keys, your purse or wallet or other day-to-day items (Gulp...Why is that NOT normal???)

Lack of attention to detail (Would skipping this question count?)

Family history of ADD, learning problems, mood disorders or substance abuse problems (Is miserable a mood disorder?)

Trouble following the proper channels or chain of commands (No, not at all...I just have trouble following rules and have issues with being told what to do. Okay, yes)

An attitude of "read the directions when all else fails" (If it contains less than 20 parts, yes. More, no.)

Frequent traffic violations ( Shockingly, no)

Impulsive job changes (No, and I totally mean that)

Trouble maintaining an organized work and/or home environment ( I really wanna say no, but my work desk and house say, "Yes, Yes, Ohhhhhhh, Yes!!!"

Chronically late or always in a hurry (Alright, yes. I'll admit that one.)

Frequently overwhelmed by tasks of daily living (Yes..I'm failing ,huh?)

Poor financial management and frequent late bills (No and Yes,in that order)

Procrastination (Let me get back to ya on this one)

Spending excessive time at work due to inefficiencies (Does putting off work and then having to catch up at 1am count?)

Inconsistent work performance (That is a tough one to answer with my job....I'll give it a sometimes)

Sense of underachievement (Every waking moment of my life)

Frequent mood swings (I think I am a fairly even person, but the people that have to live with me would certainly disagree)

Trouble sustaining friendships or intimate relationships (Again, No and Yes, in that order)

A need to seek high stimulation activities (No....is there hope for me yet??)

Tendency toward exaggerated outbursts (Not usuallybut...... 3 days a month, no doubt)

Transposing numbers, letters, words (liek, may6be some8times)

Tendency toward being argumentative (Only with Bob and I totally blame him...so, no)

Addictive personality toward food, alcohol, drugs, work and/or gambling. ( I smoke, but the rest, definitely not)

Tendency to worry needlessly and endlessly (Can you say "hit the nail on the head"?)

“Thin-skinned” - having quick or exaggerated responses to real or imagined slights. (On occasion, yes, but again I blame others)


Okay, so does this prove something? Probably not, since you have to rule out 20 other things it could be...and I have like 19 of them. Not really, but I do suffer from excessive worry and anxiousness and that might be what causes this ADD screening to appear positive. Hell, who am I kidding, I have always been this way, but is it to the point of a disorder? It seems in today's world everything is a disorder. They will soon come out with a disorder for people that have none..maybe they could call is Disorder disorder.

I am going with the "or just whacked". It is all inclusive and fits me much better.

The Soundtrack of Your Life.

I have been busy working on new house, buying furniture for new house, purchasing carpet for new house, spending every last f'in penny on new house. New house can bite me.

I decided I was feeling a bit wigged out and I would play some games online and listen to some old music. Some friends had come over a few weeks back and we downloaded songs from the 70's. I was age 3 to 13 years old during the 70s, which means first, that I am old and second, that it influenced me in deep, sad, depressing, wishing I was young again, ways. Even at those tender ages, I remember certain songs that could pull my heart strings and take me to deep, introspective moments even back then.

I was always a thinker, an over-analyzer and I knew very young that certain songs would always remind of me a time past, even when it was a time present. Even at 12, I missed being 12. I spent a lot of time, too much time, really, perfecting feelings of regret and mourning each phase of my life before it had even passed. Nothing holds that feeling as much as songs from the 70's.

I often wondered what new trainee wired my brain. When all my neighborhood friends were gathered around in the lightest of times, giggling, acting silly and listening to the music of our childhood, I was only half there. The other half was already too aware that this life goes by so fast and that everything that brought me joy, at that moment, would come to pass. We would grow up, change, go our separate ways.....I would mentally take a picture of the scene....attach it to a song unknowingly and relive it anytime I heard that song.

How many times do you turn on the radio and an old song is playing and it takes you back to a specific time? It translates for me into a feeling. Sure, I remember things about that time, but I mostly feel like I am taken back to the actual feelings I had then.

The 80's were a bit different in the memory department. I had many rites of passages in the 80's and songs to bring back each and every one. I had my first kiss, first heartbreak, first sexual experiences, first buzz, first time away from home at college, first marriage(lol), first baby and I even managed to squeeze in (or rather squeeze out) baby number two as well. "Pappa Don't Preach" was out the summer I found that after one year of college I was going to have a baby. It was like my anthem. "Holding Back The Years" was also on every ten minutes at that time too. I remember hearing it and feeling this sadness for a life forever changed, mine. At 19, I was leaving the carefree, wild days of my youth for late night feedings, diapers, and a life a million miles away from my friend's lives.

Even today I hear a song that hits me in that different, special way that makes you realize it will always remind you of right then. It will always bring back an emotion that defined that time. Hearing it years later will change your mood. On a bad day, a song with a great memory attached can change your mood immediately, leaving you swaying and singing in the isles of the grocery store and a song with a not so great memory of a time can lead you to tears driving home from running errands.

The Fine Line of Parenting.

Parenting is like forever trying to balence a scale that just won't....well, balence. You take all the crap from your own childhood that you are convinced screwed you up, go to the opposite side and reach total imbalence. You re-adjust til you sound just like your parents, which is scary enough, and imbalence again. Trying to keep it all level is an exhausting job.

I was raised in an overly-strict manner and there was no tolerance for doing anything different than they wanted. It was not a horrid childhood, just a very controlled one. My curfew in high school was midnight. Half my night was spent making sure I would get home not a second after. I usually made it in the five til range. My mom would be standing at the door, with the "mom look " of anger, and she would start yelling at me, "You JUST made it by the skin of your teeth!!". Being on time was not quite good enough,nothing was, really.

Then you have children of your own and these certain areas are so build up in your mind to "never do". I was so much more relaxed when Ryan was to be home at midnight and got home at twenty after instead. I wasn't going to fuss over the minor lateness. I never wanted him to feel like he didn't have room to breath, but then twenty minutes late became forty-five minutes late, then an hour, then an hour and a half. Next thing you know I am calling his cell phone, demanding he get home on time and standing at the door with the "mom look".

I was taught to give up my seat, keep quiet, always put others first and be polite to the extent of being a doormat. I wanted my kids to be independant, free-thinkers that could make up their own mind, look after themselves and put their interests in front of others on occasion. I told them being polite was great, but it was not their job to always be the one to sacrifice, so use your good judgement and you'll know the difference. Turns out kid's judgement is not always so "good". It was not long before I am standing over them saying , "Do you EVER think of ANYONE but YOURSELF??".

I wanted my daughters to be fiesty and have a good sense of self, know what they wanted and not be afriad to demand it from a society that caters to men. Now my thriteen year old is intolerable with demands and my toddler is running the place. She is the princess and we are reminded of that on an hourly basis.

Sometimes you see your efforts and it is a proud moment, those rare times when the balence does work and they are confident without being overly selfish, assertive without being aggressive and bratty, and kind without over-sacrifing themselves. You think you have fine tuned the balence until ten minutes later they break the scale again.

I often wonder what they will carry as "the things I am never going to do to my children". What they will overcompensate for when they are raising their own. I hope it is a whole lot less than I thought I had to do.

Awaiting the Call.

So, the potential buyers of my house came on Saturday at 10am. They looked around and spoke of being extremely interested. One member of the family was ready to "set it up now, let's make a deal". We decided on them going home and putting together an offer, then getting back to me soon. It is the talking it over that has me worried, cause I haven't heard from them since.

I'm letting my concerns take me over. I feel like a teenager that went on a first date with a guy I was really into big time. After the get-together, you are all on top of the world. "It went great, seemed like a perfect match.". Then by morning you are wondering if you did something wrong, said something wrong, or if you acted like a complete loser. He hasn't called back by the next evening. Fear sets in. Friends call for the details, your excitement has turned into a two hour conversation that includes picking apart the whole evening and getting opinions on what he meant by saying this and you discuss the encouraging points, while your friends tells you he must be really busy or something, cause he is soooooo going to call.

Two days later you are still waiting. Now you are convince it is a lost cause. Or maybe a mind game, yeah, that's it. They are trying to act NOT so interested, just incase you aren't really that interested. That must be it. You wait some more, you go over in your head a million times how you will act on your next run-in with the person. Will they act like nothing happened, not even speak, be nice as though they are not totally knowing that waiting for the call is drivng you MAD!!!!!!!!

Yes, those sneaky buyers are playing a head game with me. Like, "Yeah, your house is okayyyyyyyyyy, but I'm in no hurry to make a commitment. I just got over a purchasing heartbreak, I'm not sure I am ready yet for this. I don't want this to be a rebound thing.".

Well, I know how to counteract that. When a boy doesn't call back, in a timely manner, the only retaliation is to have him see you with another boy, really enjoying yourself. I'll start hanging out with other buyers and flaunt them in front of them when they drive by, like "Hey, I don't need you. There are swarms of interested parties, so ....whatever."

I need a mind vacation badly. Since that isn't going to happen, I must do the only thing left to do...obsess, worry and pout til I get the call back. And they better not even think of breaking this thing off without telling me first! They do not even want me to start calling their number and hanging up every thirty minutes!

One Big Mac, Please, With a Side of Guilt.

Last night I went to the house to do a few things when I realized it was almost 7 and I had not eaten anything since lunchtime. At first I had the totally stupid thought of finishing what I was doing and then getting a burger on the way home. This was stupid because I only had ten dollars on me and I could not possibly take food home and torture my children by eating it if I did not have the same thing for them. It didn't matter that they all had dinner an hour and a half before, there is some unwritten rule somewhere that it is possibly the worst of all the mother sins.......to eat anything that they do not also have to eat.

I think of all the times they bring in a bag of goodies ,plop down on the couch and stuff their precious little faces with sugar in various forms. The don't share, cause it is THEIR'S. The rule doesn't go both ways. If I walked into the house with a bag of sugary treats and claimed it was just MINE, I shutter to thing what could happen. There would be shock, horror on their faces, whining, kicking, screaming, and shouts of "NO FAIR!"

Being a mom means you have to lock yourself into the bathroom to eat the snickers that you bought at the store and carefully packed into the bottom of your purse, with extra care to make sure it was not visible if someone happened to see your purse unzipped for 2 seconds. You long for their bedtime so you can have a cup of hot cocoa or tea and not have to make five more with toast, cause, you know, "MOM, can you make toast with it tooooooooooo?? Pleaseeeeeeeeeeee!!??!!".

You literally become a closet eater. Not only do you use an actual closet, but any door with a lock will do and the car is an excellent place to treat yourself to something without the hassle of being brought in for questioning. Every so often you will make the fatal mistake of leaving a wrapper in the car, to which an investigation will be started with "WHO had a candybar???" You didn't get ME one???".

I have to run to the bank later and PMS is demanding me to make a pitstop for a secret treat that I will gobble down before I hit the last turn going up my hill. And, by the way, all those wrappers at the bottom of my hill that some no good litterbug just threw out on the pavement...I know nothing about them.

Project House

Last night I decided to go to the house and do a bit of work after the funeral and the buffet at the fire hall. I ate like I was going to the electric chair or something. Buffets can be a very bad thing cause you want some of everything and everything includes about forty different things. I'm still full.

I finished painting the living room and put the first coat on Brooke's room and though the old carpet is still there, looking scary, it is really starting to look like a house. I just have half the kitchen and the hallway to complete on the main floor. Oh, and the bathroom, but it is mostly tile with just about 3 feet of actual wall around the top, so we are definitely making progress.

We are meeting with a possible buyer this weekend. I know I might take a bit of loss, on the value of our currrent home, on this deal, but I just can't afford to pay for both houses right now. I think we will probably agree to it and it is worth it right now because, ummm, we can't afford to run both houses right now.

It makes me think about how money runs just about everything. I know they say money doesn't buy happiness, I wouldn't know too much about that. I do know that lack of money doesn't either and in fact causes a hell of a lot of misery at times. I look forward to being somewhere that allows me to pay all the expenses and still have some breathing room at the end of the month.

Making a little less profit then I hoped will still give me enough to purchase flooring and new furniture for the house. I can even pay off some debt I owe to others, so I can't complain too much. It really is worth the peace of mind and boy, could I use some of that right now!