It's time once again for The Pensieve. That's where I draw random thoughts from my brain and put them here for you to sort through and make of them what you will. For me it's Carpe Diem. For you, it's Caveat Emptor. See - this is what happens when you learn Latin from The Brady Bunch and the front of iron on t-shirts.
Part One - Taking the Good with the Bad
I am a parental failure and success. I am a failure because I am fed up with The Royal Pains right now and it's my own damn fault that they are lazy, lazy beings.
Some backstory - I am not enjoying a bout of depression that is plaguing my waking hours. Things feel out of control. My response is classic. I control what I can. I clean. So yesterday, I self-medicated with Windex (I only considered sipping it once or twice) and bleach (I would never contemplate sipping bleach. It feels slimy to the touch and it isn't that pretty shade of blue raspberry like window cleaner.) I soothed myself with the overwhelming drone of the vacuum. I may not be able to solve my problems or silence the voices in my head that love, love, love to recite all the mistakes I've made over the last twenty-five or so years, but my house can be spotless, with things just so.
While I self medicated, The Royal Pains remained inert and draped over the furniture, eyes glued to electronic devices, snacks within easy reach. The only time they moved was when I petulantly pointed out to them that I could move the furniture more easily if they weren't sitting on it. The intense cleaning I was engaged in required the moving of furniture, of course.
"You know, my grandmother was a domestic for a Jewish family in Cincinnati back before she was married," I huffed as I shoved the heavy leather sofa from one side of the living room to the other. "Funny, I haven't come so far. I'm feeling a lot like a domestic for a Jewish family in Georgia......"
Crickets.
However, The Dancer did pass the International Baccalaureate (IB) Diploma Programme so there's that. She may be lazy about housework, but she's damned smart. I just hope she's smart enough to make oodles of money so she can hire someone to handle her domestic stuff.
Part Two - Ticktickticktickticktick
Time seems to be on fast forward. Never enough hours in the day, etc. Part of the reason why I've not been blogging much is because I don't have time to read blogs. I hate to blog and not reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blogs. I don't want to be that girlfriend who calls you up, unleashes her own angst on you and then gives a quick excuse for having to hang up before asking how you are.
I've been reading novels to help me get my own writing chops up to speed (sounds so calculated, doesn't it?) I've discovered the unmitigated joy of lolling about in a bubble bath, a glass of wine next to me, candlelight bouncing off the massive mirror next to the tub, book in hand and The Spa Channel playing softly on the XM Radio. It is, quite possibly, the most girly and cliched thing I do. MathMan comes in for a show and I demurely corral the bubbles over my breasts and tell him to look away from my Buddha belly.
He is not fooled. He knows that when he leaves the room, I toss my book aside, take a fortifying swig of wine and amuse myself with bubble beards and hats in the mirror.
Part Three - The Necessary Evil
And then there's work. I don't even know where to start, but it's busy and filled with uncertainty. I'm also doing the part time work for the attorneys who are in Europe right now and I've taken on a new venture that I want to get excited about but I don't feel like I can until after I get through this week (annual meeting for my full time job). Soon I will tell you more about what I'm up to with a second part-time job. Unless, of course, I win the lottery and then I'll just post a picture of myself rolling around in money before I disappear forever.
Part Four - Something Bigger Than Myself
There's all kinds of news going on and I've been ignoring it as much as I can. Honduras? Afghanistan? Iraq? Iran? Thirty chimps escaping from their cage at Chester Zoo in Northwest England? Among the news of celebrity deaths and other mayhem and assorted horrors humans commit against other humans, I hear that Republican Governors have run amok. And new Democratic Senator Al Franken had nothing to do with it.
Sarah Palin stood before microphones again recently and said some disjointed things. Thank goodness for that. I'd really started missing her because she's been so bloody scarce these last few months.
She even figured into some quiet morning bedlam that took place in the kitchen of Golden Manor this morning. I was enjoying an English muffin, fruit salad and tea. Simultaneously, I attempted to finish reading a chapter in The Ten Year Nap, eat my breakfast without getting it on my clothes and watch Morning Joe. The usual suspects were discussing soon to be Former Governor Palin's resignation announcement.
Accounts vary widely, but I assure you that there was nothing in my tea except for sugar and fat-free half and half. My fruit salad a mere memory of sweet nectar on my lips and one half of my perfectly toasted English muffin eaten, I put down my book and lifted the China tea cup to my lips as I grumbled about the coverage of Palin. The cup didn't make it to my lips before I tipped it and suddenly, I was awash in that sticky, sweet, milky tea.
MathMan giggled from his spot in front of his laptop. "Thought that was pretty funny, huh?" I tried to make light. He couldn't help himself. I realize this. It was funny. However, at that moment, soaked through to my undies and now having to clean the kitchen and change my clothes before I could leave for work, I was struggling to find the humor in the moment."Fine. Laugh. I'll get my revenge. I'll tell the world the real reason why Sarah Palin is quitting her job as governor," I issued the threat as I crawled around on my hands and knees wiping the sticky tea from everything it coated.
From my spot on the floor, I could see MathMan look my way. "Which is?????"
"Her wild love affair with you. The story is about to come out and so she's quitting now," I paused to see his reaction. He'd gone back to studying whatever was on his computer's screen. "The people of Alaska thank you, by the way....." I continued. This had become about amusing myself, not goading him. "Of course there will be inquiries into whether you are her baby's father. You'll be invited onto all the talk shows, my first published book will be in your name because I'll end up having to ghost write your tell-all. And your teaching career will be ruined....."
MathMan looked up at me. "What are you talking about?"
I smiled at him. A shiver of excitement passed through me as I envisioned him sitting smooshed between Whoopi and Barbara Walters at the table on The View. "Nothing , Honey. Just thinking aloud about my next blog post......"
