Soooo, what'd y'all do yesterday?
I got up, got the kids to school, went to work, worked some, goofed off some, had to skip a baby shower for a former colleague and friend (because of the working, which was more encompassing than normal), went home, went back out to the grocery store, washed some dishes, fixed dinner, ate, watched some teevee, tucked the boys into bed, watched a little more teevee (because who can ever see too many wild car chases?), and went to bed.
Not much news being generated, I'm afraid.
Something did happen yesterday to make me go "hmmm" for a while - a friend called to tell me she'd accepted a job offer for a job very much like mine but for a different company, and she's going to get paid 25 thousand dollars a year MORE than I am for doing what I can only imagine will be very much the same thing. I consider that I'm very well remunerated for what I do, but the knowledge that she's going to get that much more irks me a little. I'm happy for her, but (and this is the kicker) knowing that this was a job that I had sent in a CV for and for which I was rejected does smart a little.
Stupid career, anyhow.
I dreamt last night that I was Woody Allen's lover. He wore a blond wig.
Please, won't you tell me that this means NOTHING?
Got an e-mail this morning from a neighbor asking if we (among about a brazilian other people on the e-mail) could foster a couple of cats while their companion people go overseas to be in the Peace Corps.
Had to turn her down, because that would be 2 cats too many in the Tiny House. Navigating around the current feline population and accommodating the daily care and feeding regimen is quite enough now. The guilt that emanates from an average housecat when the food bowl is empty is astounding, somwhere on the order of a small fuzzy Jewish/Catholic mama who wonders why you don't call her anymore. The pathetic 'mew' of an I'M-STARVING-OVER-HERE cat is designed rather nicely to evoke sympathy and irritation in equal measure, because dagnabbit didn't I JUST fill up that bowl but where the heck did all the food go so fast and if I don't fill up the dish the mewing will become meowing will become louder and more constant until the tsunami of irritation knocks inertia right the heck on OVER and the bowl gets filled so the meowing, the awful MEOWING, will stop.
Amen. Now clean the litter box, bitch.
Plus which, if ONE cat can always be underfoot, imagine what 2 more could do. We'd all be walking around looking like Thorazine patients in no time, just to avoid stepping on the extra cats. Shuffle, shuffle.
No thanks. No more cats for me.
A dog is a different story. Happily for me, the Peace Corps people have found homes for their 2 canine senior citizens, because there's no WAY I could have turned down a 12-YO Chesapeake Bay Retriever and an 11-YO yellow lab.
Happy, slobbery, goofy, creaky, sleepy, lovely doggies. I could have found room for THEM.
This post is teetering perilously close to becoming a mega-dose of random, but I must offer up one more nugget of something that is possibly of very little interest to anyone but me:
I went shopping the other day. For CLOTHES. Oh sure, I did it online, but this marks the first time in about 18 months that I've bought myself new clothes. Yippe for me, taking that bold step!
Nine new shirts from Land's End for 100 bucks. That ought to cover me for a good 2 years.
I'm still struggling with the notion of going pants shopping. Heaven knows I need to, being as how I really only have 4 pairs of pants to wear to work, but I loathe shopping with such a passion that I can see me letting it get down to three pairs, then two, before I set foot in a store to actually try something ON. I'm almost 46 years old, and still haven't made peace with the size of my ass. Someone hug me.
On that note, try to NOT think about my ass, and have a great day. I'm out.