July 24, 2002

Day before yesterday, yesterday, and now today.

I wrote on Tuesday, didn't post.

I wrote on Wednesday, didn't post.

Today, I'm writing and posting. And comparing. Dude. Check out the MOOD SWING action going on here.

Tuesday:

It's happening again. I have something I *have* to write about, and it's prohibiting me from writing *anything*. I wouldn't make a good literary student. I don't work well with assignments.

Perhaps it's that in order to write about our vacation, I have to scan three billion and two *more* pictures, crop them, save them to a manageable size, and place them. I'm so not in the mood to scan anything, after my last monster entry.

I'm not as good a writer as Jen (this entry made me tear up). I'm not as funny as Weetabix (just read her whole darned journal, there's not a dull one in the bunch). I think perhaps I'm a bit boring, and a little run-of-the-mill.

Run of the mill:

Okay, here it was my intention to look up "Run of the mill" in my handy-dandy "2107 Curious Word Origins, Sayings and Expressions" by Charles Earle. And it's a measure of the pain-in-the-assitude of my day that of those 2107 curious word origins, sayings and expressions, "Run of the mill" isn't one of them.

This is a really good idea, which I came across through Terry's Photofluff. Wish I could web design as well as Terry. And just about everybody is a better photographer than me. But I'd love to have the time to do this. And the collabs I write for have interesting topics that I wish I could concentrate my energies on. Plus, you know, the difficulty I have with the whole assignment thing.

I need to be able to stay home, all the time, and wend my life away on my hobbies. Bake cakes and learn how to make a freaking pie crust and cook gourmet meals for Calvin and Marie every night. Pay attention to the dogs, and become so good at gardening that I can make ANYTHING thrive in this godforsaken desert. And do crafty things! My sister-in-law gave me a scrapbook for our wedding, and it's filling me with all these ideas. I want to make a scrap book for my sister, with all our wedding photos. I want to make a scrapbook for Marie, and maintain it throughout her highschool years and give it to her as a graduation present. I dried the flowers from my bouquet, and I want to put them in a box frame with matting (spelling? yes? no?) and a copy of our wedding vows. In calligraphy. Which means I have to learn calligraphy.

Yeah. I've got the time. It's around here somewhere.

I'm going to buy a treasure box, and fill it with mementos, and someday, some blessed day when the stars are aligned and I have both the time AND the inclination (that's key), I shall do something creative with them.

Oh, the mood I'm in! What the hell is wrong with me?? Interesting entry fodder this does *not* make. My brain is all blargy, which is telling me that I've gone too long without writing.

The thing is, there's not much to tell. I'm stunningly happy with the whole marriage business. Work is work, with perhaps a bit more stress than usual. School is postponed until the November session, because the nearby campus isn't offering any of the classes I need, and I'm not driving an hour one way to go to the main campus (my education is sacrificed on the altar of my laziness). Marie starts ninth grade in three weeks. Michael seems to be in fine spirits, according to the phone conversation we had with him last night.

My birthday was last Saturday, and Calvin and I had an excellent meal at a new Mexican restaurant near our house, and bought some new CD's. I placed an Amazon order (Ben Folds! Sex in the City! Dave Matthews! Fleetwood Mac!), which according to the web package tracking, should be at my house today or tomorrow.

We watched Trading Spaces on Sunday, and as a result our living room is now red.

I'm taking a pause here to express, again (and I know this is why you guys still read), how really really cool Calvin is.

Really really.

All it took was a combination of dual-possessed boredom, and a halfhearted comment by me of "Wouldn't it be cool to paint the living room this color?" as I pointed to a hue sported by the painting in our living room. Two hours later we had paint in hand, and Calvin proceeded to bust his ass for the next THREE days (yeah, it took four coats. Who knew?). All I did was feed him, keep the stream of beer flowing, and bemoan the fact that I wasn't helping. At all. Except for the whole moral support thing. Which, as we all know, goes such a long way for the person who is actually doing the *work*.

Yeah.

The end result is very dramatic, and I just love it. Love love LOVE it. Which means that Calvin will now be tortured to paint the bathroom, the bedroom, a mural of Jon Bon Jovi on a wall in the game room, fifty foot high letters reading "Laura is the COOLEST" on our roof...

How does that work? I get inspired and Calvin gets volunteered. There's something wrong with that, but damned if I can figure out what.

********************

And Wednesday:

I had a presentation at 11:00 that I finished by 11:20, and then practically RAN out of the room. Yeah, I know the presentation wasn't in the "preferred format". Yes, I know the final data and analysis isn't complete, and me being there was rather like reading an entire novel except for the last three culminating pages that pull everything together and make everything make sense. I disagreed with the co-owner of the presentation, who insisted on scheduling me for not only this forum, but two other forums as well. They will, I'm sure, express the same discontent that while this information is all well and good, it's like trying to bake a cake without the flour. A rather essential ingredient.

Her decision, I get to present and take the flack. AND, because the information was incomplete, I get to go back, to all three forums, in three weeks. Whatever.

That actually wasn't the start of my bad mood. I was in one yesterday evening, for no reason whatsoever. Even now as I type this I can't put my finger on why I hate EVERYTHING. I'm bored but I don't want to do anything. Hungry but I don't want to fix anything.

This is what I want to do. This is EXACTLY what I want to do. I want to get in the truck, turn up the A/C, turn up the stereo, and drive absolutely nowhere in particular. I want to toodle around and sing badly and turn off my brain. That would be perfect.

Instead, I came home for lunch just to make sure that I wouldn't have to be around people (except Calvin, who came home shortly after I did and spent the next hour trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me). And who would be at my house when I pull in, but the landscapers.

Oh-ho, the landscapers.

These are the idiots that do such shoddy work that we can't tell they've been there. These are the idiots that think they can get paid $55 every two weeks to do this non-work. These are the idiots that won't return my REPEATED phone calls AND letters, first requesting them to leave a business card when they've been by, then asking them why they think I want them over more than once a month (we have very low maintenance landscaping - and yet, I know, we hired someone to maintain it for us - hush, you). And now, NOW they expect me to pay them money they think I owe them!!

idontthinkso

I yelled at them. Told them they had the worst customer service I'd ever come across. Told them they could take their "outstanding bill" and shove it up their leaf blower. And then I told them they were fired.

Ahh.

Anybody know where I can get a leaf blower, weed whacker, and hedge trimmer real cheap?

********************

And finally, today:

As strangely and abruptly as the mood blew in, it blew right out again. I spent the last hour of my day figuring out finances and debt reduction plans (that cabin up north and midlife crisis averting sports car are only four years away!). I came home singing along to the "Fleetwood Mac - Greatest Hits" CD I got from Amazon, and got a birthday card in the mail from Dawn.

Everything's perfectly potty, and I can't for the life of me figure out what hair was up my ass earlier this week.

Anyway, I'm back, in a writerly frame of mind, so you'll be hearing from me more often. And if I haven't replied to your e-mail yet (I've got a mountain), it's certainly not because I don't lurve you. Because I do. Each and every one of you.

~mwah~

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©Laura Charon 2000 - 2002.