Chile time. Because. I have a need...

On vacation for 4 days, this is Day 2. I essentially get 2 solid weekends over 1 weekend.
And I'm ok with that.

I'm making chicken & green chile enchiladas for dinner tonight. I have beans on now (after a quick soak from dry) cooking. Once those are cooked (2 hours? ish?), then it's time to fry them  up and mash them. Use them as layers in enchiladas (flat & layered), but also use them Tuesday for huevos rancheros.

So, process: 2 cups of dried pinto beans are covered by water (over the beans by an inch), brought up to the boil, boiled for 1 minute, then removed from heat, covered and allowed to rest for 1 hour. Then, drain the soaking water. Add a couple sprigs of thyme, the top 4 leaves of a sage sprig, a tablespoon of dried oregano, 2 lightly crushed garlic cloves and 1/4 to 1/2 of 1 onion, kept whole. Pour over 6 cups broth (I used a weak ham broth).
Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, cover, cook an hour. Stir after 1 hour, test the tenderness of the beans. Continue cooking until tender (figure another hour to 1 1/2 hours). Drain the beans, reserving the bean liquid. Discard the veg/herbs. In a cast iron skillet, heat 6-7 tablespoons lard/oil. Add 1/2 onion, minced. Add 2 cloves garlic, minced fine (or grated). Add beans. Stir, break down the beans by mashing/squishing/pressing. Keep stirring, adding bean liquid as it thickens. Add s&p as you see fit.

I still have to finish dishes, then I'm going to poach the 4 boneless, skinless chicken thighs for the enchiladas. They get poached in chicken broth, with some onion/garlic/herbs/chile powder. I'm reserving the poaching liquid for the enchilada sauce. Shred the chicken. Then I'll make a little roux, mix in the broth, let it cook down, add the chile (8 large roasted/seeded/peeled green chiles) and some garlic. Layer beans, chicken, cheese and tortillas in a small casserole, pour over the sauce each layer?

OHhhhhh fucking yum.
Fat girl needs some food.


Things and stuff and activity and... and...

I'm tired. It was a long day today. It was a long day yesterday, there are 2 more long days this week...and then I'm off work Sunday, Monday and Tuesday.

But then, Wednesday...
Well, Wednesday, we're supposed to go the 'new site', so they don't have 800 people through 7 or 8 campaigns and lines of business over 2 sites. So 1 combined site.
Except it's not finished yet. They don't  even have the doors we're supposed to use knocked together, we're coming in through a loading dock.
I do not see this going well, but then I'm an optimistic pessimist. It will probably go balls up, but it may not.
I've discovered? Realized?
Realized some things about my fellow workers.
The company has us all separated into 'teams' and each 'team' has a 'supervisor'... The team I'm on? The supervisor and about 50% of the people on the team qualify as Mean Girls. Example: We have a short dude on the team. He's SHORT. I'm short and he's shorter than me. I would say he's probably about 5'0, or 4'11, something like. SHORT. He knows he's short, he has a bit of an anger issue about it? Gets twigged out for inconsequential stuff (Someone misspelled a word in a note to him! HOW DARE THEY?!?!?!), but seems to want to 'get along' with the supervisor and her little pets.
Here's the thing: They're all horrible to him.
Short joke after short joke after short joke after short comment after short joke after short comment after short joke. HOW FUCKING TEDIOUS CAN YOU GET?!?!?!
Retail workers know what I'm talking about: If it doesn't ring up, that means it's free, right? Next customer. If it doesn't ring up, that means it's free, right? Next customer. I couldn't find a price, so it's free, right? NEXT...
About the 3rd time it ceases being any sort of 'I see what you did there'...

It just gets boring, Sydney, very very boring...

But because the supervisor goes along with the mean girls, it just keeps getting trotted out and trotted out and trotted out. And you can't SAY anything to the supervisor because she's just going to pass it off as 'Well, they're FRIENDS, and they're my FRIENDS and we're just giving him grief and it doesn't MEAN anything, and it's all in fun, and it's just a joke and relax, why can't you RELAX about this stuff?" and next thing you know, I get told I don't play well with others.
Not funny.
Not enjoyable.
What do you say about ME behind MY back if you're willing to be this much of a douche-canoe to someone's face? AND you pass it off as 'joking'. It's not a joke and it's not funny. It's just simply not funny.
So I realized that about my coworkers. It was couched in the idea of 'Please, Universe, don't make me sit by them, please don't make me sit by them at the new site', but really...
People are awful to each other.
I'm not the most sociable, not by a long shot. Clinically introverted to the point of anti-sociability not the most sociable, but even I can't be this awful.
I really can't.
I don't like a lot of people. I have no respect for them, I have no faith in their actions, I just don't like a lot of people... But I don't deal with them. I go out of my way to NOT deal with the people I don't like.
So being this awful? For me (ME!) To say 'They're awful people', that's a big thing. That's pretty big.


Keepin' on, just...

I'm starting to insulate again.
I go in fits and starts. There will be periods where I'm wanting to go out and do stuff, even mundane stuff, let me go out and go and do something, anything let's go! And then just as much, if not more, there are periods of 'Don't look at me, don't talk to me, let me blend, let me fade, don't notice me,' and I can't decide if it's a good thing, a bad thing or just a thing.
I also don't want to go out and do stuff.
Not... not a whole lot, at least.
We're going riding Sunday. I want to ride Sunday. Weather should be good, and I haven't been out AT ALL this year.
At all.
So I'm itching to ride, but then I dread the heat that's sure to come, but I also don't want to go riding in the rain. I did my certs in the rain. For 9 hours 1 day and 11? almost 12? hours the next day. In the rain. I was drenched.
But I did it. So now I don't have to do it. I know I can if I have to, but I don't have to. Still.
Going for a ride on Sunday.
Getting a raise. The company negotiated. It's a buck fitty an hour, but works out to be around 1 an hour takehome. That's assuming I still remain in my (pretty constant) 30% takeout from my paycheck.
It's time for 'shorter hair' since heat time is coming. I don't like it when my head is wet from sweat. Long hair takes longer to dry itself, so time for a chop-job.
May do that Saturday night.
Tonight, internetting, then tomorrow night, I'll be Lego-ing. I'm putting together the behemoth Ninjago City, which is like, 3 levels and a roof feature. The thing has a rotating sushi bar.
I am so mundane.



So... I made fruitcake November 2017.
Dark rum, lots of dried fruit rehydrated in dark rum, then baked into a cake filled with dark rum. Then I soaked the cake in dark rum, wrapped it in cheesecloth that had soaked in dark rum, soaked it again in dark rum...
You get the picture.I used 1 1/2 bottles of rum to get 2 loaf sized cakes.
Richard badgered me into bringing the loaves off the shelf to the kitchen to check them. They should be moldy, right? They should not be good still. No way they're still good.
They are fantabulous. I assume on 1 because I'm lazy and don't want to open the 2nd. I want to let it ripen more/still/yet. I'll pull it, re-rum it, yes, but it still needs to keep ripening.
The one I opened? Unwrapped from the plastic wrap and cheesecloth? The cheesecloth was still damp.
The cake?
Still moist, still smelling heavily of rum, but the rum kick doesn't pop in until later. Dense, delicious. Needs a cup of milk to have with it.



I'm going to tackle croissants.
I made some before with the sourdough I have in the fridge (his name is George), and they worked ok, but not great. I wasn't happy with the rise. The lamination was wonderful, but the rise wasn't all there. Weak.
Great layers, though.
I believe very heavily in lamination.
My biscuits (I use Alton's recipe with a mod or 2) have always been folded, and Alton didn't fold until he reloaded his recipe for the new run. I made cinnamon rolls and laminated the dough. I try to fold most dough. I love milk bread because of the sheets of layers.
I like layers.
So croissants.
I figured I'd start with the King Arthur recipe and move from there if necessary.
Straight yeast this time, though. I want the bounce, the rise, the lift.
I can't skimp on the chill the dough steps, either.
Croissants will be a project, and I'm OK with that.
I'm still going to try to pack it into a day.
I can also just continue to let it all chill Monday, if necessary.
Yes, I'm aware they recommend days for croissants, but.
I have all the patience of a kid waiting for Christmas.
Still. Figure I'll get the dough set, get the butter plank set, maybe do a turn or 3 Sunday, then chill all day Monday, turn 2-5 more times (I like layers!), shape and bake on Monday night/Tuesday.
And I'll have all day Tuesday.
Tomorrow eve, dinner will be stir fry. Something simple. It'll practically cook itself.
I mark days off with laundry, dishes and cooking and I hate that I do that.

#blnir (blog like nobody is reading)


I'm rather sad today.

But grocery is done, Magic Man will be in touch with me later, lunch/dinner is sorted (sausage patties on toasted English muffins with an egg and cheese on top) (and a smidge under the sausage as well, gotta keep everything together), and I have just a couple loads of laundry because the Painted Man is a marvelous laundry fairy.
Dishes are a non-thing today, I haven't cooked since the last time I did dishes.
Still in a good spot, but still rather sad.
8 years of my life online, to the almost exclusion of everything else.
insert me shaking my head
Good spot, sad day.



Ugh. But not.

I need to quit buying gas at Kroger using my card. Both times I've had my card number pulled fro fraudulent activity, it's been directly after a fuel-up at Kroger.
And that angers me, because I like Kroger. I liked Smith's in Albuquerque, and I like Kroger here. Their blanco modeno vinegar is to die for. So good. Well, it's the Private Selection brand. But that's in-house for the chain.
I don't like the other groceries in town. Aldi's smells vaguely rotten, like just coming out of overripe vaguely rotten, WalMart offends me, and Food City doesn't appeal to me the way Kroger does. I will give FC a better selection of local produce. Better tomatoes at tomato season, better squash in the fall, that sort of thing.
I could, I suppose, go to the Whole Foods down on Papermill, but really... that road scares me.*
WalMart just gets an F. They do dirty business now. Everyone talks about 'Sam Walton' this and that? My grandfather was friends with Mr Walton. They're both (Gramps & Walton) dead now well over 20 years. His kids... HIS KIDS are quite a bit to blame. They still own the board, so... blame them.

*I lost driving, my love of driving, when I had Lancelot, there at the end. The windows didn't roll down, it was a bitch to get into and out of (inside passenger door handle broken, outside driver's door handle broken), the trunk didn't open, the alternator was wonked, it didn't have A/C... It was a real nightmare of a car at the end. Add to the nightmare car an odd anxiety during my mother's illness and death (and still now, depending on traffic) of being hit from behind while stopped at a stoplight. I know Molly (Miz Molly Monster, the moss-colored moto-mobile: Lancelot's replacement) won't roll backwards if her nose is uphill. I know Molly won't die, randomly, out on the roadway, because I didn't hold my mouth right pressing the alarm button starting the car.
I know all this.
I cannot bring myself to look in any of the mirrors while stopped at a stoplight.
The dread would kill me.
And I kinda like being alive right now.
Nothing particularly special is going on or anything (ticket purchased to The Man Who Killed Don Quixote, makin' some really good food, my knee is getting better-I went sans brace today & did OK, for the most part, my personal archangel is looking at things I've written, the one who brings magic in my life is still a part of it, the Painted Man is putting together the largest Lego he's ever owned...
Life is pretty good right now, even if I have yet to have someone give me a pile of money.



Less than a week for the Ploos.
It's causing some anxiety. I've posted there pretty much every day for YEARS.

And I'm not good at blogging. Well, I used to be good at blogging, then life intervened and I lost writing. I did the 2010 NaNoWriMo and vomited out a story in 2 1/2 weeks and...
I kinda lost writing. I lost my voice.

It's easier to write in a post on the Plus. Limited space, limited people reading. Y'all best believe I cut down public posting in a heartbeat. Fam is never to be trusted completely (disenfranchised because I am child-free and never married, therefore I shouldn't have an opinion on anything, and any opinion I do have is wrong), so posts on FB are limited. Twitter is a bit of a joke and a free-for-all and I don't want to invite bullshit, so I don't post on Twitter. Tumblerinas abound, Reddit is an indulgent read/comment.

So... blogging. Again.



Open door, turn on lights...

G+ is going down in less than 2 weeks.

Open door, turn on lights.


Look inside...

December, 2011, my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer.

May, 2012, my mother was pronounced to be in remission, just in time to see my nephew graduate high school. I was there. It was a good time, I left feeling heartened. Remission is good, life is good.
September, 2012, there were more spots. They tried the 2nd round of chemo. The chemical soup destroyed her immune system. She almost died. She began to come back from that, a little.
October, 2012, they started her on a 3rd round of chemo, more of a maintenance, slower acting chemo. The spots weren't growing, were actually shrinking.

December, 2012.

I went home for Christmas. It was a good time. I was able to spend time in the 'bosom of my family'. My nephew was in boot camp, but we talked to him by phone, it was nice. It was home. My mother weighed less than she did in high school, and it flummoxed her. Her short term memory was hit or miss, but she was still Mom. Thinner, her auburn hair a memory, plagued by cataracts, she still laughed. Her doctor allowed her to put a hold on the chemo for the holidays. They would start back up in January.
January, 2013.
Mom was back on chemo, then scans. We talked a couple times, but I was busy with work, and my life, still, she was OK. "I'm still standing," she would say. Then she'd laugh, tell me something she told me 10 minutes ago, we'd start again, she was feeling good.
February, 2013.
I got a call from Dad. Mom went down, was non-responsive. She was transported to the hospital. Scans showed she had very little viable lung tissue left. She was mostly non-responsive. They transported her to hospice.
She rallied, a bit, in hospice. My sister came in from Utah. My nephew flew in from his A school for the Navy. I was able, through the wonders of G+, to see my mother, to tell my mother how much I loved her, that she was the best mom I could ever hope for and I loved her very much. "I love you, too."

Those were the last words my mother ever said to me.

I compartmentalize. I put things in boxes, taking them out, looking at them every now and again, putting them away again, to rest and simmer and stew until another day, when I can open the box and take it out and look at it. 
I went back in March for Mom's memorial. Dad brought Mom's things to me in May. I'm looking right at the box for her computer. It was purchased in November, 2012. It's 8 years newer than mine. It's still in the box. Her jewelry is still in a bag. Her paints, her sewing stuff, her art stuff, all in boxes. 
I compartmentalize. And I'm still not ready to open the boxes. 


Find your abandonia someplace else...

Someone commented that this must be an abandoned blog. No, no, not really.
at a loss.
My mother died in February. We packed up her stuff in March. It still hurts.
I have a secondary. He's a travellin' man. Truck driver, on the road...most of the time.
My ConMan is in town now.
I'll write more, eventually.
But abandoned? No. Just... Don't feel like a whole lot of introspection right now....


Hunting, chats and home....

So I went home for the child's graduation. He has graduated. And no...you can't really go home again. The house is a different color, but I haven't lived there for 10 years. Still, I know where everything is. It's a weird dichotomy, seeing the new overlaid with the old. The area has grown by leaps and bounds, but still the sky remains.
The child has also enlisted in the military. He's going into cryptography, in the Navy. At least to start. At least as of now. He hits bootcamp in August. I'm busting my buttons, I'm that proud. No, I don't feel he's going away to die in a senseless action. I think he's going to grow as a person and become whole in his own right.
My mother is in remission, for now. It's a relief. My father is old, and now I feel very Alice in Wonderland, 'You are old, Father William'.... I miss the sky in the desert. Even now, even after seeing to so close for so many days in so many permutations....I miss the sky in the desert.

But I am home now.
My body decided to whammy me...I had cramps bad enough last week to double me over and make me want to throw up. Not a fun thing when the spasms from your uterus come so fast it ripples your tummy and makes yo fall down in pain. So I missed work I must make up for. I'm happy it didn't happen in Albuquerque.

The hunting....The guy with the bike is...off, somehow. Not as on as he was. He seems interested, he seems not interested. He is an enigma. Muscles, however, has become a bit more to the front. Sigh, oh well. It passes the time while I'm in the alternate dimension. J is getting a new schedule, and mentioned that it will now give him time to come hang out. I certainly hope he's not planning on bringing his girl with him. I don't like her. It's not jealousy, it's the fact that I would have nothing to do with her if it weren't for J. And I don't want anything to do with her in spite of J. She gives off bad juju vibes.

The chat in the title....I was invited into a private chat on G+. I turned him down. He's nice enough, I suppose, considering I don't know him and he's 1/2 way around the world. But there's something dissatisfying about chat. It  doesn't do it for me. There are very very few people in the world that have been able to spark my brain enough for anything but them actually being there to do anything for me. In spite of my libido being what it is, I get more out of reading porn than hot chatting strangers on the internet. And a big part of me wants to point people who invite me into private chats over to ASSTR or something, if they want to read about throbbing body parts... I understand the appeal. But...hot chat is just an extension of phone sex. And I don't get the appeal of phone sex, either. It rarely does anything for me. It takes someone special to spark the brain. So I turned him down.
And then I realized he didn't remember from the last time I turned him down for a private chat. How odd is that, I thought, that he doesn't remember 'She doesn't chat', and then I looked...he follows several hundred people. How many of them ARE willing to chat with a complete stranger over the 'net?
The difference between them and me is that I have discriminating tastes that say 'complete strangers are to be held at an arm's length, but loved ones are as close as the phone or the computer'
What a dichotomy I am sometimes.....


Wabbit Season. Duck Season. Wabbit Season....

...I keep telling myself "Do not hunt at work." It's difficult. It's not that I want to trade Sic-un in or anything (no way in hell would I ever...he's too precious), but variety is the spice of life and I find myself being....hungry, almost, for a little flavor, a little spice. And since things with J have turned out well*, I want to get that same flavor/spice option back again.
So I find myself hunting at the Dimension. This time among the new people. The guy who rides the bike is the most likely target at this point, although there is a surprise candidate in Blondie. She is just cuter than dammit and I wanna make her cry. That's all I can tell you. She intrigues me. The guy who rides the bike...he's more visceral of a turn-on, and it's not even a 'turn-on' per se, more of a 'what if' that starts revving engines and making body parts get ideas... Now, Muscles would be fun to play with, but completely superficial...I think he fancies himself somewhat of a 'player'. He has a there, but his there and my there don't make anyplace, if that can be deciphered. The hippy guy is just... I don't want to go anywhere that brain goes, if that makes sense. I think he took too much.
So the guy who rides the bike... He's about 5'10 or so, dark hair, I'd say he's in his late 20's, early 30's. We have literally just talked in passing. He knows of Sic-un's presence and place in my life, but he doesn't know about our relationship protocols (in passing does not equal deep conversations about whether or not I can fuck around, to put it baldly). I don't know if he has a girlfriend, boyfriend, is or is not looking. No clue.
But he's targeted. And my little guy in my head who keeps things straight for me keeps running around posting up signs telling me No Hunting in the Office.
Plus there's the fact that this is East TN and the climate for the low-key poly I want is seriously overcast.
Yes, you do see what I did there.
I'm flying back to Albuquerque within the week. The Con-man is graduating (my bayybeee boyyyy1!1!!) and still (insert proud here, kids) wants to be a Pilot so he can fly Planes. He decided that when he was practically an infant. This does mean military, methinks. He is being smart and choosing Navy, I think. I think it would help if he has a pilot's license before he goes in, that's what I really think, but... I am the worried (poor) Benevolent Aunt, so I will keep my mouth shut about it. But still. Albuquerque within a week. I'm looking forward to the sun at the correct angle in the sky. Even at noon, the sun is off-center here. And not just a couple inches of shadow either, we're talkin' a full foot in the summer, three in the winter. It rides low in the sky, never making the apex. I need to be scoured by the sand, heated by the sun. I fear I am growing mold here, and want that fine-grained scrub, that drying out.
I need Family. I need people that look like me, those beloved faces. I need those pollens in the air in the desert at this time of year. I need to breathe the air of Home.
And I need to quit hunting at work. There's probably a regulation against it or something, too....

*J... J has a girlfriend now. I wasn't asked my opinion until after the fact, gave my opinion and it has not been mentioned again... She is Not what I would have picked for him, and I think he's being...not needy himself, but I think he sees himself as 'rescuing' her in part, and I wouldn't pick that for anyone. She's very co-dependent and rather wishy-washy.  I still, very very much, love J and will continue to love him. And that's a cool thing.


I've got a loverly bunch of....

C'mon...admit it...you thought 'coconuts', didn't you? I did. I've been a bit...flighty lately. I'm going to Albuquerque. I leave in 10 days. I've been occupied with that. There's a ton of new eye candy in the Alternate Dimension (or is that Demention?). I've been occupied with that. Apparently I've been doing really well in the AD and didn't even know it, so I've been getting minor spiffs here and there like being allowed to walk & answer questions instead of sit and answer the phone. It breaks up the day. And I got a new schedule, which I really have been enjoying. Now watch...they'll take it away from me.
Yes, I'm being pessimistic.
Like the eye candy. A cute hippy dude (another J, if you can believe that), a rather fit specimen (R), and then a guy with a bike (T). Please note I did not say biker. He's not. He's a guy with a bike. He is, however, geeky. And he gets my sick, sad little jokes. And then there's The Blonde. She's 21, hot little body, cuter than dammit...I wanna make her cry. But nothing will happen of it, I know this. I'm me and they're them and it's the AD, and nothing will happen because this is the South and Sic-un is mine and I 'belong' to him, so I'm off limits. In all ways.....
Silly, silly AD...
And then there's... He knows who he is. He's been occupying much of my thoughts lately. Songs go through my head. Older, hotter, deeper...Throbby. He knows, the sly dog...Insert quiet smile here, kids.
And Sic-un. I worry. His back. He's sick. Waiting on an appointment time for a gastro. And Sosu...He's been worrisome lately.
Good news on the mother front. The chemo has, apparently, worked, she is now in remission. Sighs of relief were heard across the land, but I won't be good until I see her.
I miss my Mommy.
But it's made me a bit flighty. I'm thinking in blurbs, small bits. Things will capture my attention and I'll think ooooh, shiny! and then bounce to the other thing. Today, for instance. I went shoe shopping this morning (wearing a dress, needed a pair of shoes that were not black or brown....So I wound up with 2 coral pairs), came home, made flatbread, did laundry, washed dishes, cooked dinner....Simultaneously. I'd do bits of 1 thing, then move to another, then do bits of yet another thing...
All while interspersing my day with TED talks....
And then bits of philosophy go through my head. My own, I'm afraid. Like how I view love and loving someone. It's like trying to explain our relationship (Sic-un). I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him. I know this. But I hope to love many others along the way to 'the rest of my life'. He's my LUMP (living with unmarried partner), but life is too short for one flavor of ice cream, dammit! I want to find him some cute young thing to play with...but then I think about his back and it makes me sad. But there is no guilt over contemplating tripping some of these in the eye candy section. And it's not no guilt because nothing will come of it, it's no guilt because...
There is no cheating (and) We're completely honest with each other.
And then I start thinking about family and what I eventually want. I want a large property that I can have my loved people around me on. Gardens and makerspaces...
So you see my scatter, my flighty, my shiny.
So back to the TED. Hopefully I'll kill insomnia tonight. The new schedule has me up an hour earlier, but it doesn't matter because I'm up before the alarm is usually anyway.
Peace, lovers.....


I'll take "Sleep!" for $100, Alex!

Another bout of insomnia... Friday, I got up at 8:15, did my work thing, had grandiose plans to 'catch up' on sleep this weekend. Splurged, since Friday was Money Transfer Day (formerly known as Payday) on a sammie from Firehouse, and just kinda relaxed. Finished the grocery shopping list, did as little as possible otherwise, started looking at recipes for sourdough again (I'm still breading it... It's a fascinating process to observe and take part in...And putting yeast into a hot oven to kill it satisfies my more...Machiavellian urges...), just a general relaxing evening.

Although Sosu was supposed to show up at some time. Sic-un had told him (after talking to him earlier in the day) that I wouldn't be home until about 8, 8:30. I came home at 8:15, actually. So. 12 hours after I get up, I'm home from work for the weekend and my evening is looking pretty good, I'm relaxed and I have noshed (and since it's becoming my habit to not eat again, it was a good thing).

Sic-un came home from work at 11:15 or so, ate and was in bed by 1. He had to work Saturday morning, so wanted to sleep.

I would have liked sleep, too, but insomnia struck. I was looking at 2:00a.m Saturday wondering if I'd sleep. Sosu knocked at 2:15 a.m. He spent the night (yes, he was alone, I slept with Sic-un. I ain't touchin' that one again unless I'm asked to. Boy gets a girlfriend and gets a 'don't touch me' complex. Repeat: I ain't touchin' that one again unless I'm asked to.), was in bed about 3ish. I wasn't really paying attention when he went down. I was wondering if I'd go down.

Blinked a few times, looked at the clock, decided I'd better go to bed, see what I could do. It was 4:38 a.m. on Saturday.

I was only dozing when Richard woke up and got out of bed for work, and had left him a note asking him to wake me about 8. I wanted to go grocery and butcher and start cleaning this filthy, filthy house. One of my rules of Spring, especially when it is trying so hard to convince me that it is indeed Springing... I saw 2 robins fucking on my way to work at the beginning of the week. I get the urge to clean and sanitize and wipe down and scrub.

So. I went to bed at 4:38. I tossed and turned and tried all my tricks and what-not and ended up counting (one mississippi, 2 mississippi, etc etc ad nauseum)up to six thousand something and gave up. Eventually dozed. Richard got up, I continued dozing...I estimate I got about 1 1/2 hours of sleep, between 6:30 and 8:00, Saturday morning.

Up, not exactly running, quite bearish until I got showered and dressed and went to the butcher. I love having a butcher right here... Their bacon is SO FUCKING GOOD! Their ground beef? I've had the chuck and the round. It's perfect. Perfect. I am not buying my staple beef anywhere else. We're trying the sausage tomorrow, and their hot dogs...well, Chicago style dogs that they make there on the premises? Yeah. Sublime. Thick cut chops, tenderloin that will melt in your mouth? Yeah. Spices? Yeah. I love my butcher.

Came home, cleaned the kitchen (kinda). I did dishes, I scrubbed the stove inside & out, scrubbed god-knows-how-much-crap off the window in the kitchen... I needed cleaning supplies, but Sosu hadn't woken up yet, and he doesn't have a key any more, and Sic-un wasn't home yet... I laid down on the couch about 5:15 to take a nap. My eyes were heavy, and I couldn't move. Hour later? Yeah, Sic-un came home. Sosu got up (he slept for 15 hours or so, lucky shit). I woke up, went to the grocery. The drive was fun.

On the way there: At a light, waiting for it to go green. I'm in the left lane, they're in the right (it's a van, a silver van). The light turns green. I go straight. The silver van turns LEFT across the lane I'm in behind me, across the turn lane (so convenient, it's right there!), and across the facing 2  lanes of traffic... I actually used the phrase "Jesus Fucking Christ-on-a-bike, in a clown costume...." to describe the antics of one of my fellow drivers.  That phrase came out of my mouth. I've been saying Christ on a bike since I picked it up from Idiot's mother. Jesus Fucking Christ is ubiquitous.

I have no idea where the clown costume came from.


Left the grocery early after making my way to the beer aisle. That was early. From the bottom of list up: paper goods, canned tomato/veg, baking products, condiments and charcoal, lunch meat, fresh veggies, bakery/jam/nut aisle, beer...I still had frozen, pharma (lip balm and vitamins) and dairy to go...And I forgot dry milk powder (breading). Some freakin' asshole freaked me out. I said 'excuse me?' with a big smile because I was reaching for the pickles (Claussen's are on sale at Kroger!) and didn't want to startle him in any way and he went off on me, pretty much asking me why the hell I was talking to him. I told him I wanted the pickles. He followed me around after that and I thought it was prudent to leave.

So now it's 3:45 a.m., I've taken something to hopefully MAKE me sleep (and I'm getting cottonmouthy, so that's a good sign).
I've had approximately 2 1/2 hours sleep in the past what? 40 hours or so?? I want sleep, dammit... And I want to sleep more than 4 or 5 hours.

And I have to go back to the grocery tomorrow to pick p the dairy and the pharma and the frozen, and this time I will remember the damn dry milk...