Humor, Life

Rando Fri II

I’ve written about Rando Fri before. If I was able to figure out how to link that to this on my iPhone, trust. I would do it.

With my impending cross country drive with my 8 year old Labrador and 2 year old Australian Cattle Dog, my thoughts are very dog-centric.

  • I hope that cbd oil works
  • How do I use the bathroom at a rest stop during the drive? Leave them in the car? Take them into the stall? Note to self: take wipes for their paws.
  • I know! Pee on the side of the road? Note to self: take wipes for me.
  • I just worked my last “fri-yay” in a long time.
  • How do you get a cattle dog pup to chill in a car for 6 hours a day for 4 days?
  • I’m not sure how clean a house has to be when you leave it.
  • Ok, only one more episode of Downtown Abby tonight, I swear.
Habits, Humor, Life, midlife, Running, women, womens lit

Shut Up, Pants!

Did I quit running? I’m not sure if I did. I ran and ran for four years, and now? Meh.

It started with a Super Spartan, then Disney Princess runs and Star Wars runs – half marathons, 10ks, a couple of 5ks in there to keep me honest. But now….

I know I need something to train for. I can’t just run to run. With my impending move to a much higher altitude, I’m also intimidated. I have low blood pressure and heartbeat already – I’m afraid I’ll pass out somewhere along the road in a new town.

I can see it now, me laying on the side of a country road, slightly concussed, calling my husband.

“Come get me. I’m concussed.”

“Where are you?” He would say, already in the car.

“I don’t know.”

And woe is me if I had our cattle dog with me, his baby.

Excuses, you say? I agree. There is nothing easier than being middle aged and lazy.

I have started to stalk online a running club in my new town, thinking it will get me running and social (I am terribly introverted and so is my husband. Peas in a pod!).

However, I have noticed that my excess chub isn’t melting away like it used to. Before I could just use the power of thought, but now, post 40, it seems things have changed. At least that’s what my pants keep saying, and boy are they vocal!

“Lunges. Remember lunges?”

“When’s the last time you did a sit up?”

“A lap around the block wouldn’t hurt ‘ya. Take the cattle dog.”

Pants are nags. Not like tops.

The tight armholes in my blouses are more like “Well, this is interesting”, and my jersey tees just talk behind my back with my bra, something about doing push-ups and maybe dips. Jersey tees are kind of passive aggressive come to think of it.

The bra? She’s just doing her best. Definitely not an instigator.

Maybe I will. Maybe I will start running again, just to shut them up. Stupid clothes. At least my leggings and tech tees are supportive. They’ve been clamoring to get out of the drawer anyway.

Aforementioned baby.

Life

RandoFri

Can we start a Random Friday? Where we just share all our mental randos that have nowhere to go. Stuff that might be a good tweet but then you have to think about condensing it, but not a post because it’s all disjointed and messy, like tangled hangers.

Maybe we can call it “Tangled Hangers”, or “Chicken Paws and Smokes”, which is what my sister calls it when I come home, feed my dogs frozen chicken feet, have a post-work smoke and tap away on my phone, though I am usually checking my bank balance or likes on Instagram.

I’m open to titles/hashtags. But let’s get started, shall we?

  • Being called “Ma’am” is nice and awful because the person saying it is so polite but it means that the person decided that I am so not a “Miss”.
  • I am not lacking vitamins or depressed like I thought I was during the week, because it’s Friday after work and I feel great! I think I just hate my job. Which is fine, because I gave notice on Monday.
  • When I gave notice at work, co-workers commented how they would never want to move to where I’m going. So strange, since they weren’t invited.
  • Jeremy Brett made the best Sherlock Holmes, although I am a Cumberbitch.

Now you. Whatcha’ got?

Life

Well, I Got My “Next”.

So I was looking for my “next”, right? My husband got transferred to South Dakota. Sounds exciting, right? It is!

But we will be moving from Florida, and have two dogs and four cats and that is stressing me out. Nobody there wants to rent to cats.

I understand that, but….but….

My husband has to report in early March. We have to sell our home and mobilize, so he will be going before me.

Panicky Thoughts

  • How do we get the animals there? Drug them a drive for two days?
  • We need a short term rental for us while we look for a home
  • Or do we put a bid on a house when we put ours up for sale with a contingency?
  • WHERE THE HELL AM I GOING TO WORK?!? I’ve been at the same country club for 12 years!!!!
  • Where do we get the money to do home improvements to sell?

Haaaaaaalp!!!

Life

Professional Coffee Rainstorm Dog Word Mangler

It’s been a good ten days since I took the pressure off. The constant narrative of “I should be writing, I should be writing”, once gone, is such a relief.

I found myself in a better mood, more relaxed, able to laugh more. I even enjoyed a movie or two. And then…

The voice started again. How would I describe this room, that person? Tighten it up and make it concise?

I read a book. Listened to an audiobook, tried to tease apart the details in Sherlock Holmes (which I listen to every night as a lullaby).

I read over my old writings. They’re the same as now – not that good, but with some insights and humorous parts, but too self absorbed for an audience. I really entertain myself, but others? Not really. There’s a lot of skill that goes in to that, and I haven’t learned it.

For now, I love words, books, the escapism and the relatable humor. But I also love dogs, rainstorms, going for a run and coffee. Doesn’t mean I’m going to make a career out of it.

I really do have to find my Next.

Life

Me = ????

My defining inner dialogue (since I was about 15) was that I wanted to be a writer. I may have been wrong.
And that, dear friends, is like walking around nekkid. 

It was my dream job, but I never chased it – just mused about it and got frustrated. Everything was holding me back! I couldn’t be a writer because because because. 

The last few days I’ve been paying attention to how I structured my life, what I enjoy doing, what I make time for, and writing isn’t one of them. 

Maybe I’ve been wrong for 30 years. 

So, my next experiment is to remove it from my head. Not a writer. Writing a novel/movie/kids book is not a goal of mine. That leaves a huge void, and I need to figure out what to fill it up with.  

Kind of like an elimination diet, but in a mid-life crisis sort of way.

Habits, Life, Self help

Hello Me, It’s Me.

It’s tough watching your friends beat themselves up with their shoulds and shouldn’ts, running the circular track of their patterns.

I’m sure I do it to. I’m trying to stop it, so here I am.

“I’m grocery shopping by myself on a Saturday night,” one complained. “It’s so pathetic.”

How is it pathetic, I think. It’s just grocery shopping. Who cares when it is? Do you know how many moms would love the opportunity to shop sans kids on any night?

But it means something to her, symbolically. There is a dialogue going on in her head that only makes sense to her; entire conversations on how lame her life is. 

For some reason it struck me. I guess because it seemed ridiculous to me, so what do I say to myself that, if said out loud to others, would seem just as pointless?

What am I telling myself that keeps me running the same loop? And what’s the payoff? If I keep doing the same things, I must get some type of benefit. I think it’s time to really start listening to my inner-me-chatter. I think maybe it’s time for that bitch to go.

Life

What A Podcast Can Do

I’m listening to a podcast that is telling a real story about a mentally abusive and manipulative man. In it, interviewees are talking about the red flags of his behavior and things he did, which eventually led to his death. 

As I listen, I’m learning about how emotionally abd mentally abisove my ex-husband was. When I was married to him, I thought things were off, that the rug was constantly being yanked out from under me. But now I am listening to similar behaviors being described about someone else, and the impressions it left on people, and while I’m listening I’m thinking “oh yeah, I know that move” and “jeez that’s familiar”.

I was with him for a long time. I know him like the back of my hand, and I didn’t know him at all.

I have found out, just recently, about things he did (and didn’t do) when we were together. 

I learned that I can’t believe anything he ever said to me unless it was substantiated by a third person. Let me modify that – a third person who I personally knew would not lie for him. In our 13 years together, I only know one, and we didn’t go around that person that much.

I told my current husband about it, that I may be more affected than I thought I was, but he said it was ok, he kinda knew but married me anyway. He is on the business of reading people and interviewing them, so there’s not a lot I can hide, even unintentionally.

Gosh. I hope I don’t have nightmares tonight.