This has been a week for good news overall, even if it was kind of a meh on a day-to-day basis. Both Zen and Chocolate and I were given raises at work, so that’s good. I’m always good with more money!
Otherwise, I’m still waiting for the rain that’s been promised since I don’t know when. We’re supposed to be in the middle of the monsoon season here, but do I see rain? HECK no! Yesterday held a lot of promise. It was cloudy all day. NOAA promised rain. But… zilch, nada, nuttin’ honey! (The chances for rain the next several days are pretty low. Yesterday they had it at 60 percent. Bleh.)
My visit to the chiro last night was painful. I’m glad he’s working on me because while it hurts like hell when he’s actually playing the maracas on my muscles, it’s made a humongous difference in how I function. It was impacting my work and that aspect’s become hugely better. The chiro also has me going to a massage therapist once a week, and she’s amazing. Can’t complain when I have a weekly massage, paid for by my insurance plan! I don’t have a Joanie, hairdresser extraordinaire. I have a Kristina, massage therapist extraordinaire!
Of course Kristina is too young to qualify as a BOCA (Babe Of a Certain Age) but she’ll get there. She’s definitely got a good Zen going on, which makes all the difference in the world. I’m trying her patience to draw her out a bit – she’s not as big a chatterbox as I can get on occasion – but she’s a sweet natured young woman, enough so I’ll even forgive her for being skinny.
Less than two weeks to moving day! I’m so jazzed. The only downside is giving up my fancy-schmancy washer, since the place comes with stackable washer and dryer. I have one of the high efficiency babies that I love love LOVE and hate to give it up. The good news is that my youngest son is going to buy it from us. We could make more money selling on Craigslist but I’d rather my kidlet benefits from it.
G’s already informed me that when we move I’m not to lift a single box. We’re going to have help from a neighbor, and my older daughter will be cleaning behind us so I don’t have to. Am I spoiled or what? Yeah, part of it is medical necessity, but that never made a difference in the past. Well okay it’s ALL medical necessity. Still made no difference in the past, which is no doubt why my health is in its current state. When I was married to the kids’ dad and we had to move, I had to move EVERYTHING by myself, pregnant, not pregnant, regardless of weight of furniture, etc. I can’t tell you how many times I had to move us when I was 7 or 8 months pregnant.
But I digress.
G cracks me up on a few things. Can’t remember if I mentioned here or not, but he has some hot spots in his personality. One is strong bias against red shoes. He gives me the evil eye if I even look at red shoes on television. Same goes for pink, purple – any version of color that even might contain red as a component.
So naturally I find frequent excuses to ask him if I can get a pair of red shoes – the redder the better. He does SUCH a good evil eye, heh.
The other point is my hair. I wear it long frankly because I’m lazy. It’s easier to toss this stuff up in a pony tail or braid and run than it is to actually have to make short hair look presentable. My hair is extremely thick, baby fine, straight as a string, and stubborn as hell. I had one hairdresser practically swearing at it as she was trying to curl it once. Ha! As IF you could put anything resembling a curl in my hair!
I don’t do perms. They’re a waste of time and money and all they end up doing is screwing up the texture of my hair. Curl? Nope, not a whit.
Oh I’ve tried, believe me. One stylist did an awesome job, too. I ended up with a Little Orphan Annie ‘do for a while, before it went buh-bye, whereupon Annie gave way to Turkey in the Straw. Or at least The Straw.
I have talked about cutting and/or coloring my hair. G says it’s up to me, it’s my hair, but lemme tell you, he means it about as much as BP means it when they say their first concern is the environment. He doesn’t even pretend indifference any more, just thunders “NO!” when I mention cutting it.
Lest you think I’ve lost my mind, yes, I still do whatever the hell I want with it, including getting it cut if and when I feel like it. But it’s kind of nice after the prolonged indifference to feel like G’s reactions to me are finally personal instead of wrapped up in legal crap. He’s come a long way, baby. He leaves me love notes here and there at random, gets totally bent out of shape if I don’t sit with him on the loveseat from time to time just to snuggle, and now and then have disagreements like real people.
Still not the kind of knock-down drag-out nastiness I had with the kids’ dad, where it was all about undercutting me any way he could; but we definitely express independent viewpoints now and again.
I can’t get used to using the laptop. It’s been here forever, just collecting dust. Old, slow processor. Given the choice between a slow computer and NO computer I’ll take it. It’s vastly easier on the shoulder. I just have to get used to the keyboard. G and I already discussed that my next computer is going to be a laptop, a real one with an up to date operating system. This one’s on XP but is still slow as molasses in January. Hitting backspace to fix frequent typos is a real experience. Each backspaced character is a one second pause. Yeah… definitely SLOW.
Okay, boring entry concluded. With no major drama in my life, and lacking Poolie‘s flair for finding humor and fascinating angles to the common factors in life, I don’t have the energy to think up anything clever.