Whew.

Monday: Michael, Chris, and I piled into Chris’s car to pick up Adri at the Roswell airport; on the way out of town the car died and I steered while they pushed; we got to a Target parking lot and asked for help but there was no help and everything was sweltering hot; Chris figured out that the car would go if he never let up on the gas; we drove home that way and Adri procured some booze (White Truck, a blended white wine, and Tito’s Handmade Vodka, which we found on Wikipedia and bought for the amusement factor); we drank some booze and sniffed at my tomato plants; my nieces came to spend the night and we blew enormous scented bubbles with the airconditioner; nobody slept much but that was okay.

Tuesday: The girls’ dad came to pick them up and Adri and I sat around the house moaning; eventually we awoke, sort of, and Connor came home from his grandparents’ and we played with him for hours; in the evening (after Connor went back to his grandparents’ because we don’t have a spare room) I thought it would be a GREAT idea to drink some more booze; a couple of friends came over for a while and we all sat out on the porch; Kip showed up sometime after dark and he, Adri, and I made chicken and rice; the rice was horribly dry but the chicken was okay, so I kept drinking the booze while Adri tried to sleep; Kip and I stayed up forever because I was rambling about heroes and Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Superman and… Barack Obama; finally, we all went to sleep.

Wednesday: We were all very tired as a consequence of my rambling, except for Kip, who was disgustingly chipper; we sat around moaning again and doing nothing much until Michael picked up his paycheck; we spent far too long deliberating over lunch options and finally settled on a restaurant that delivered instead of ONE THAT HAD POTATO SKINS; Adri and I were dismayed but got over it; after lunch we sat around talking and talking until Lyndie showed up and hung out for a while; Connor was here again and was very excited/exciting/cute; then we went to bed early and finally got some sleep.

Thursday: Adri and I woke up at seven but didn’t stir until 8:30; we felt much better and made plans for a long day; we sat around on the Internet for approximately forever, looking up drama and nostalgia pieces and other strange things; we showered and dressed and got the hell out of the house to pick up Kip at the hotel; we went to lunch at Cattle Baron, where we finally obtained potato skins; we went to the garden store, where I bought hydrolized fish viscera and a sage plant; we went to Wal-Mart for more booze; we got all gussied up in dresses and heels and went to Saeng’s; we took Kip to the hotel and came home and sat around with wine.

Friday: We got up early-ish and sat around on the Internet some more; we showered and dressed; we picked up Kip from the hotel; we took Adri back to the Roswell airport because she had to leave because she is a hooker; Kip and I started the Saeng’s post at Schizodigestive but got derailed by discussion of Mental Issues and Memory Loss and Documentation of Things; I took Kip back to the hotel, came home, and slept like the dead.

Saturday: I sat around going “durrr” and hanging out with Connor and cleaning the house.

Sunday: Kip and Flynn returned for a bit; Flynn slept on the couch while Kip and I worked on the Schizo post and played with Connor and talked; Connor got picked up by his grandparents and Kip, Michael, and I went to a friend’s house for dinner; while there, Michael picked up my nieces so that they could partake of the fun; we were all stuffed and sat around afterward going “nnnnggghh.”

Monday: I picked up my nieces at 9:30 because they wanted to see Flynn; Flynn and Kip showed up at about 10:00 and we all sat on the porch talking for a while; we went to breakfast at the Dew Drop Inn, where everyone had some variation on dessert; we said goodbye to Kip; Flynn took the girls and me home and we said goodbye to him; I helped my nieces set up safe Internet accounts for various things; I took them home and said, “Now what?”

Tuesday: I spent the whole day alternately sleeping and stumbling about misplacing things, fighting off some sort of fever; Connor went to see Wall-E which disappointed me as I’d wanted to go with him; I woke up and everyone was gone and the bedroom was hot and things were in strange places; I spent 45 minutes starting dinner and then Chris showed up; we watched Firefly until Michael got home; I made dinner and we ate and I went to bed.

Today: I have been working on a site-design job I got last week, slowly and unwillingly cleaning up the apartment, and not doing much else. I discovered seven (7) new tomatoes on my plants, so I have been using that as an excuse to go outside and “check on them” every 30 minutes. Connor has been asleep for about four hours, so I guess he was tired too. I will have a real, coherent update… sometime.

Text-box belch.

My problem with straight narrative has struck again. Until I can wrangle last week’s stories into something resembling coherency, you can go check out my guest post at Living Behind The Curve or my joint post with Kip about Thai food at Schizodigestive. Thank you, come again.

Not dead.

I haven’t forgotten that WordPress exists, exactly; I’ve just been really busy. Adri and Kip were here this week, and we somehow managed to kill a lot of time without doing much but eat food and drink wine. This means that there will be some interesting posts at Schizodigestive, as well as some interesting posts here. Just… not today, because today I am catching up on time with Connor, housework, and administrative crap like asking the CPA if she is EVER going to SIGN THAT CONTRACT.

This week was exactly what I needed, and I’ll have lots to say about it on Monday or Tuesday. I’ve been out of the house more in the past five days than I was in the entire six preceding months. (Also, there was some strange thing going on wherein I ended up with more food in the fridge after everyone left than there was before they got here.) Today is for rest and catching up with real life, tomorrow Kip is going to be back for about a day, and then I am going to spend half a day hammering out The Longest Post Ever. Stay tuned.

The OCD Falcon.

Have you ever had one of those days where the entire world is composed of nothing more than a trillion small-yet-overblown irritants? I am having one of those days, probably because I have not slept in roughly an eon. Small coughing kid, large snoring husband, great booming thunderstorm, etc. There is no sleep for me. Everything is rubbing me the wrong way, I am flipping out about OMG STUFF TO BE DONE ACK ACK, running in circles (metaphorically) and not really accomplishing anything.

Company will be here DAY! AFTER! TOMORROW! and I will pretty much have a rotating cast of characters filling my house for a week. I am thrilled about the company, but less thrilled about the massive amount of housecleaning still to be done, the stress over what food to buy and how to buy it, the question of planning activities, and the fact that I totally forgot about a particular bill and will have to pay it instead of taking the guests out for fun and sun. (Or getting my hair cut; I am not a SAINT or anything, this is not all altruism here.) In fact, I envision this particular round of company as a series of backs departing for activities unknown but generally pleasant, while I watch forlornly from my window and plump the air mattress obsessively. I am sure that’s not really how it will go, but the realization that I will be broke and sort of low-stocked while everyone is here is unnerving to me.

Also, the house really is a mess, in that “nothing’s actually dirty, but everything looks kind of sleazy” way. The carpet needs to be shampooed, but I cannot procure a shampooer until two days after everyone arrives. The edges of my kitchen floor, beneath the counters and stove and whatnot, need to be hand-scrubbed because they pick up the grode like nobody’s business. My bathroom remains small and dingy no matter what I do, and the tub is about a billion years old and has also been patched at some point with melted yellow fiberglass. I’m not what you would call house-proud, but sweet fucking crackers, I am a leeeetle worried that my guests will take one glance around and book it for parts hygienic.

To top it all off, I am exhausted from the aforementioned lack of sleep, and Connor keeps yelling “BOGEY!” Or perhaps “BOGIE,” which thought has cheered me enough to carry on with the cleaning. Happy Saturday.

Briefly.

I can has itty bitty baby tomatoes?

NOM NOM NOM.

It’s not you.

So, the CPA who was all gung-ho to hire me has not emailed me in almost a week. We have not finalized the contract, she has not let me know what she wants me to start on, there is a total communication breakdown. This makes two jobs in two weeks that have totally fallen through post-hiring, leading me to think that HA HA HA, maybe it’s me. As in, maybe I am doing something horrendously wrong, or perhaps my personality is off-putting, or… or I smell. I don’t know, but I am starting to get seriously worried, not that it’s edging into paranoia or anything because it’s TOTALLY NOT. Except at three in the morning when I am lying awake and freaking out about money. Then it’s paranoia! Yes indeed!

Hi. How are you?

Today is another day of resumé sending, just in case, and tomorrow will be another day of local job hunting. Just in case. We just did our grocery shopping for the month the next couple of weeks, and I am having my usual attendant “oh my goodness, everything has gotten SO EXPENSIVE” spazz attack. We have company coming in next week and OH MY GOD, HOW WILL I FEED THEM? I mean, it should be okay, except I don’t want to make my usual busy-mom-on-a-budget stuff. I, of course, am DEAD-SET on preparing fantastic meals with rich meldings of savory flavor and, um, angel wings or whatever. I should probably not panic about this because it’s not like we won’t be able to buy more stuff when the company gets here, but then I think OH MY GOD, HOW WILL I FEED THEM? Which is not — I repeat not — a legitimate worry in any way (I mean, we are not destitute), but damnit, I remember when the food I bought today would have only been maybe a hundred bucks and today it was TWO HUNDRED.

Hi. How are you?

I am also irrationally panicked about gas prices because HOLY HELL. Gas is over four dollars a gallon here, and our ancient Chevy Tracker is currently getting something like eleven miles to the gallon. Did I mention that I have company coming in next week? Because I do and OH MY GOD, HOW WILL I TAKE THEM OUT? Also, Michael has to get to work, Connor has to get to playdates and the park and the pool, and I have to… well, look for a job. Again. FOUR DOLLARS PER GALLON, people. I know it’s probably worse in other places, but I keep thinking about when gas was 88 CENTS per gallon, and I just want to cry a little. There was some ad on the radio today for a contest in which first prize was a $100 gas card, and I could not keep myself from snarking on it a little. “Oooh, enter to win A TANK OF GAS. No, wait, maybe A TANK AND A HALF OF GAS. What a MARVELOUS prize! So EXOTIC. So USEFUL. We should go enter, because A TANK OF GAS is worth its weight in gold!” And then, of course, I realized that a tank of gas probably is worth its weight in gold.

Hi. How are you?

Anyway, the lunchmeat I bought today offers me the chance to win $50,000! Now that’s a prize I can get behind! Desperate times, right? In case you’re wondering, I would buy a house. If it was a cheap house, I would also tune up the damn car. (ELEVEN MILES TO THE GALLON.) What would you do?

(As an addendum, you should go check out 3trillion.org. I have already solved the oil crisis, the housing crisis, the education crisis, and the food crisis! Happy spending.)

Apologies to Stephen King.

There is a short story by the illustrious(ish) Mr. King called “Everything’s Eventual.” Leaving aside the story itself — which is fantastic, but not particularly relevant here — that is kind of how I feel this week. I’ll start work on the new job… eventually. My tomato blossoms will set fruit… eventually. Connor will finish potty training… eventually. This month’s week o’fun will get here… eventually. Mer will post my LBtC guest post… eventually (ahem). I will buckle down and do some serious work at Schizodigestive… eventually. On and on it goes.

I’m having trouble updating this site, because the same things are not-happening every single day. If it feels this repetitive on my end, I can only imagine what y’all think — I mean, most of you could probably write these entries for me. “Hey, I’m still unemployed and/or nebulously employed! My garden is pretty! Connor is cute and he said something witty! Some people make me angry because I have a huge superiority complex! Now I will make a meta-comment about how boring and/or repetitive I am and end this entry with an unsatisfying conclusion!” It’s a wonderful formula, really, but sometimes I am disenchanted with the entire idea of text in a box.

Life is okay, right now. I am still kind of worried about our financial situation, but I think that will go away once I start work on the new job. I am upset about the tomato-salmonella thing and very anxious for my plants to start making fruit. I am free-floating through the week, waiting to have solid, constructive things to do. This is a very boring process. Next week I will rampage through the apartment on a pre-guests cleaning spree, start some real work, do some cooking so I have something for the food blog… and maybe I’ll write a serious update then. In the meantime, I have a question for you: Is it more heroic to make a hard, morally poisonous choice and figure out how to live with the consequences, or more heroic to sacrifice yourself rather than your morals — in which case you die, and do not have to live with any consequences? Please discuss. My brain is all tangled.

It is what it is.

My boss at the bakery informed me on Saturday that the scheduling snafus and strange job shift had come about because “[she] doesn’t really have enough work for [me] to do, and [she] doesn’t really have a shift where [I'm] needed, and it’s not fair to either of us for [her] to try to fit me in.” Fair enough. The bakery situation apparently resolved itself, although I do wonder why she even hired me if she didn’t need another worker. I spent most of Saturday sending out my millionth round of resumés, but this time I actually got a result.

Yes! A result!

A California CPA emailed me within two hours of my sending my resumé — she needs someone to do writing for her website, maintain the content, and write and maintain communications with clients and website users. She was interested in me because of my bookkeeping background; she said she thinks that’ll make things easier and smoother for both of us. She called me the same day (still Saturday) and we did a nice phone interview… and she hired me. I’ve written up and sent a contract, and I’m just waiting for her to make what changes she sees fit and send it back for signing. The job pays quite well, the hours are more than reasonable, and it’s exactly the kind of job I have been looking for, lo these many months. The site owner sounded quite nice and very smart on the phone — I think she’ll be wonderful to work for. I’ll be working from home, finally using my degree, and finally making a decent paycheck.

Today I’m mocking up a template for her site, something I can send to her once the contract is finalized to get the design-and-content ball rolling. Today I am also very tired, as the extreme heat and Michael’s snoring seem to be feeding off each other in some bizarre “kill Sara dead” sleep-deprivation schema. I spent a little time outside this morning, topping off the soil in my tomato pots, picking sucker shoots off the plants, and generally putzing around in the hope that some sunshine would clear the cobwebs from my brain. My tomatoes are starting to flower, and once I’ve made some headway on this site template I’ll take pictures. I also made a(nother) basil cutting and stuck it in with my Early Girl tomatoes; so far I’ve managed to turn one basil plant into four, but there can never be enough basil in this house. Connor played in the sprinkler while I fiddled with my plants, and it was a generally charming morning, exhaustion notwithstanding.

I had planned for this update to be more substantive, but the new job beckons to me. It’s nice to be interested in my work again; it’s nice not to be treated like dirt from the get-go; it’s nice to have achieved a goal. I am tired, but productive. (Look, Ma, I’m a real person!) Later this week there will be a new post and maybe a header up at Schizodigestive, too. Stay tuned.

Dilemma.

I have a little problem. Let’s see if you can help.

Let’s say that you are the kind of worker who likes to be amenable, to be flexible, to say “whatever you need, I can do it.” You believe that this is the best way to make the work experience go smoothly, and you also believe that it is the best way to show respect for your boss or manager. Let’s further say that you are one week into a new job and you really like your manager. Let’s say you were hired to decorate cakes, which is something you’ve always wanted to do and therefore a pretty big part of why you took the job. Let’s also say (boy, you talk a lot) that you were hired to work a specific afternoon shift and you were promised a certain number of hours per week.

Now let’s say that your boss calls you the day before you go in to work your second week and tells you that you are not going to be decorating cakes, you are just going to be doing “general stuff, whatever needs to be done.” Your boss also has scheduled you for the exact opposite of the shift you were hired to work, and makes it clear that this is the shift you will always have. (Let’s call that shift “ass o’clock,” for brevity’s sake.) Let us postulate that the shift in your job description and work schedule means that you will be taking a cut out of an already meager paycheck. Finally, let’s say that instead of the promised numbers (X = 20), you will instead be working some lesser number of hours (Y = 13).

… What would you do? My first instinct was to go, “Uh, sure, whatever you need,” but I am very irked by this bait-and-switch. I really need a job, but this job has just turned from awesome to utter crap. I am faced with having to leave my son with someone else three days and two nights out of the week, because there is no way I can get him up at 4:30 in the morning and drop him off somewhere at 5:00. Changing Michael’s work schedule so that he can be home on these mornings is out of the question. Not to mention: pay cut, fewer hours, no cake decorating, etc. I feel like my manager just needed someone cheap to do grunt work, couldn’t find anyone who would take the job as stated, so she changed the statement to trick me into taking it.

It is unlikely that she will address any of these issues, as this is about the lowest level of unskilled labor. I am fairly certain that if I ask to switch schedules, or insist that I be kept on cake decorating, I will be told that I can either do what she asks of me or leave. Advice would be welcome.

Abashed.

Er, did I say there would be an update today? I think I meant tomorrow, or maybe Monday. It’s my wedding anniversary today (a fact I knew but did not fully realize, because hello? who is old enough to have been married for MULTIPLE YEARS? not me), there was lots of garden stuff to be done, and I work at ass o’clock in the morning, which necessitates a very early bedtime. Please see the previous post for redirection. Move along, now.

(An aside to the person who found my site by searching for “i graduated college and don’t do anything”: Hey! I do stuff! I do so much stuff I can’t even update my blog! Shove it, pal.)