20 September 2006

dayquil anonymous

Hi, my name is Emma and I'm slamming Nyquil for my stupid sinus headcold.

Hi Emma!

I have an update to a post from a couple weeks ago. I kinda left you in suspense and now your life will be complete with the resolution of said post.

Bear with me, my head started throbbing yesterday morning and hasn't stopped. Coincidently, my retina is about to blow out my eye socket. I've also ingested enough Ibuprofen that I could feasibly cut off my head and still smile & laugh about it. The Dayquil is getting to me too, so if I don't make any sense, well, you're used to it anyway........hey, look butterflies!

I have finally mastered Wonder Woman's spin, although I've turned into Betty Freaking Crocker instead of a busty Amazon warrior woman in star-spangled unders and boots to die for. I don't know how I went downhill so fast, but it started last week when my in-laws gave me a food processor for my birthday. No one could have seen the outcome.

As it goes, this is no ordinary food processor. It's 500 hp of Black and Decker polished guts and steel that grates, slices, dices, kneads and as an added bonus, also chips small trees and can handle landscape mulching.

This is the pinnacle of kitchen perfection.

There I was, standing for half an afternoon in euphoric glee mesmerized by the whirling blades that screamed back at me, "I am magnificent! Watch as I perfect that slice of dairy goodness people call Swiss. BEHOLD! I am that thing of beauty that babies laugh at, that men stare at in bewilderment, and what women only envision in the deep recesses of their Martha Stewart, cordon bleu fantasies."

Thank goodness, Mr. Coffee was able to snap me out of it with an intervention, talking me down from my 5th gallon of homemade salsa. I still get chills just looking at the machine and it's clean lines and shiny buttons, taunting me from it's corner of the kitchen. (By the way, if anyone wants pureed birthday cake, it's in the top shelf of the fridge. )

IN other news....

School for me should be done. It isn't. This bugs me so much that I'm going to name my first ulcer after the school mascot. My school even sent me this letter:

Dear Mrs. Sometimes,

Although you are an exemplary student, it would help to get off your duff, get your poop in a group and send in the course work FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET HOLY PANCAKES!! We do keep in mind it is a work-at-your-own pace course, although we somehow assumed that you were human instead of part snail. We are here to help with any questions you may have. Have a nice day.

Acme Medical Transcription School

PS. You have a cool blog

Well, naturally!

KIDS: Three of four kids are in school full time. It's odd to have the house so quiet during the day albeit a welcome change. Ellie and I can do things, like chop and dice. Why watch Elmo or read a book when you can mince an entire onion in 4.2 seconds?

After applying everywhere I could think of for minimum rage, I will not stoop to another horrible interview and am resolute to working in a bookstore. The last three times I have worked in bookstores, they offer to keep me on after the holidays. Emma, in a bookstore is like a chubby kid on diet in a candy store on allowance day without his mom. Lord knows you can't make it out without your hands full.

And I'm not talking about my favorite TV show with Hugh Laurie. I'm talking about SOLD!! I will know more on Friday or Monday at latest, but I'm already hoarding boxes. I believe if all goes well, we will be in a new place by Oct end. Nothing is set in stone, yet...

We are starting back to church. I don't like me when I'm not immersing myself into what God wants in my life. I get in a bad funk. Even if you aren't a church goer, you can understand feeling like you are not living up to your purpose. I have been feeling like my world is getting small and my life example is crap. That has to change.

I've learned let sleeping dogs lie, even the forgiven ones. Not that I'm calling anyone a dog, per say. Just forgive and go forward. Onward and upward. Speaking of onward, my mother is coming to visit from sunny California come October. Because selling a house and moving isn't enough stress.

I'm not talking about it because I'm mad, not at Mr. Coffee, but...putting it mildly, construction trades stink like a bean-loving skunk devouring Limberger cheese at the porta potty in front of a paper mill.

I want to blog every day and with 'other moms' doing it, I wonder how dirty their houses really are. I decided to visit more blogs but until I move, I shall be a bit scarce. No, I am not leaving my blog, I enjoy it too much. I enjoy getting all my stuff moved more. Speaking of stuff, I leave you with a word from George Carlin,

"Ever notice how your stuff is stuff and other peoples' stuff is crap? Hey, move your crap out of the way so I can put my stuff down!"

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"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."

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