A lot of talk, a little inspiration...
...I'm a fan of yours!
Wow, a year!! I actually thought that I had pulled this blog down when I stopped paying for a domain name and monthly hosting, but I suppose for better or worse, free sites are forever! And now that I've stumbled back upon my old blog, I feel the desire to write. So much has happened and if for nothing else, it's a way for me to organize my thoughts and feelings just on the amazingness of it all.
The title of this blog post comes from an Andrew Lloyd Webber show starring Bernadette Peters - a goddess I absolutely love and adore. Bernadette's unexpected song is romantic love...no musical theater surprise here right? Mine is quite literally song.
If I had to choose a word or phrase for 2009, it would probably be “settling in” or “sigh of relief”. This past year, while not fantastic by any stretch of the imagination, was a ginormous improvement from the year before which really tested us in crazy unexpected ways. We both found work which removed the stress of “we have $10 to get us through the week” and found a work/life groove here in New Orleans that is wonderful and so much better than the day to day we had in New York.
My work life this year has been a winding road leading to crazy unexpected directions, and yet when I really think about it, it absolutely makes total sense and seems only natural to have gone in the way it has.
I found what I thought was going to be the perfect job doing business arts administration for a HUD grant based Center for Music and Arts Entrepreneurship. I enjoy the work I do, however for various reasons, it’s not the greatest of jobs and that’s ok. University life is truly wonderful! I love being in a small academic setting surrounded by some really great people - staff, faculty and students alike, and surrounded by a philosophy of “ever learning”. One of the bigger University perks is free tuition for employees and this past summer, I decided to take full advantage. My logical self thought…hmmm…MBA. I started studying for the GMAT and spent the summer immersed in the world of economics. Towards the end of the summer, I was struggling with some serious work related issues and sought counsel from the College’s new Dean, whose advice was worry about work less and try singing more! Only in
I started taking lessons every other week and found myself making more and more time for the practice room, pouring through new music and enjoying some new found coloring, control, range etc. Over the course of the fall semester I went from a lesson every other week to adding work with an accompanist on the alternate weeks to then weekly lesson. My teacher is nothing short of marvelous on so many levels and I think I can safely say we connected not only in a musical way, but in that emotional mentor/mentee way that I just thrive on. He suggested sitting in and perhaps singing in a weekly recital class which was fantastic. For several weeks I just listened to all these singers and found myself analyzing what they were doing right and wrong and figuring out what I would say if I were to coach or teach them. The day I finally got up and sang was a turning point for me. I left the class, marched into my voice teacher’s studio and with tear rimmed eyes said, “umm, I really think I gotta sing!” There was hugging, laughing, crying, anxiety and total “am I absolutely crazy?” conversation and the bottom line was with a will, there’s a way.
That revelation and more singing led to me pondering how exactly to have what I want career wise on my terms. The head said MBA, the heart said Master’s of Music allowing me the opportunity to someday teach as well as the flexibility for performing and/or the flexibility for anything else I wish to pursue. With full support from my voice teacher (and from both the Deans for that matter), I made the decision to embrace music again after a ten year hiatus and allow the opportunities to present themselves as they may. I am assured that everything will work itself out and for once I’m really starting to believe it.
I have always fallen naturally into music without any thought and sometimes without any effort. I always thought maybe it was too easy and I never gave myself the chance to try out different things which is why I walked away and never looked back. While I’m kicking myself for waiting so long to allow music back in, I don’t ever regret the break as I found so much happiness during that time, primarily my emotional and physical health and the love of my life. I also found other things to be great at and can return to music with a greater maturity and capacity to communicate. And all my twists and turns, life challenges and experiences kind of come back full circle and all make sense. What better way to sing again armed with a new body, a rested voice, a calmer spirit and Tim Gunn fashion advice?!
Bring on the next decade – I’m ready!! I am!
Everyone told me that October in New Orleans is beautiful and they weren't kidding. Since about the last week of September, it's been gorgeous here. It's still all warm and 70's/80's during the day, but there is that fallish feeling in the air. It's not nearly as humid and it cools down in the afternoon and at night...love it! The only let down is I always associate warm weather with longer summer days. I feel somehow cheated to still have warmth outside while the sun is setting earlier and earlier. Needless to say we're spending more time walking around outside and I still have to pinch myself that I live here. I walk around my neighborhood or the Quarter and I kind of feel like I'm on vacation. It's grand.
On the scale front, I'm quite amazed and I'm sure I owe some kind of precious bling to the powers that be that my weight has stayed the same. This is despite my blissful reuniting with BLT's, my consumption of quality ale and my latest propensity for sloth. We've also been on the po' people diet which is a whole lot less protein and a whole lot more junky carbs that don't cost a lot. Let's face it, no one will argue that it costs more to eat healthier. It's not all bad...rice and beans are actually quite good for me. However, piggy products and Zatarain's surprise over the long haul combined with lack of gym time should equal weight gain.
Where I do notice the difference is in clothing fit which is why my old WW leader beat me constantly upside the head with the mantra that weight loss and health are more than a number. My clothes just don't look as good right now. You know those skinny girls that have no muscle mass and are "soft" with little Cheeto bellies? That's me except I'm not skinny. I don't feel firm or smooth by any stretch of the imagination. My clothes don't have quite the movement they are supposed to and I just generally don't feel fit. And I don't like it.
The good news is one of my job perks is free use of the University Sports Complex. I'm getting activity in walking around and the grooming of large dogs that I occasionally do, but it's not enough. I declare a moratorium on sloth. I feel that if I start exercising regularly again, the better food choices will fall into place.
And hooray Chaz is now employed!!! This was the final piece of the N'awlins settling in puzzle. We've had a summer filled with financial worry, joblessness, hurricane threats, bank fraud and finally attempted rental scamming...apparently UK is the new Zamibia. Now with Chaz working, we can actually pay all of our bills and have that incredible anxiety chip off our shoulders. And I can afford some fresh fruit and vegetables which is handy as New Orleans restaurants just don't do nekkid produce.
I really like my job. It's so great to be in a University setting, and a music school no less. I feel like today's students are just so incredibly smart and lucky to have access to so much information. When I got my performance degree, it really was just about learning the art of singing along with a little performing. Now, these students are learning the business and the music industry; better yet they are surrounded by working musicians at all sorts of skill levels. It's fantastic. I love that it's flexible that I can still groom dogs on the side. I'm also baking for a local bar/restaurant a couple times a month and getting paid for it. Finally I feel completely stimulated...getting paid to do a handful of things that I'm good at. Not one job day in day out with a two hour commute and the same tasks staring me in the face every morning. And the icing on the cake is the production guys I work with all play and we're talking about jamming together. We want to do some big band/jump jazz/rockabilly stuff which I'm so freaking excited about!!!
I knew with time that this was going to be the right move. My faith was certainly tested over the last few months, but we are finally where we want to be in terms of quality of life.
HOORAY!
I have not been feeling oh so bloggy lately. It's not that I have nothing to say or there's nothing going on. It's more like feeling like I'm one step away from either complete disaster or incredible relief. The old platitudes along the lines of being the darkest before the dawn and the windows opening as the doors slam shut seem true. Most people think that I am relatively lucky and that good things happen to me whether I work for them or they just fall into place. And I would generally agree. I try not to get worked up over hang nails, bad hair cuts, financial blunders and general day to day bull shit. But man oh man, when the shit hits the fan, it really really hits.
For the most part, we've kind of been coasting on the good life for oh, about 7-8 years. There was drama at times, but mostly we've been unscathed and just cruising life's great big auto pilot. And all of a sudden comes the dirty side of the storm (hey, I'm entitled to at least one hurricane reference). My crying jags seem to be more spaced out, my stomach is no longer boiling and Chaz and I are able to appreciate the incredible good that has come in the midst of the bad. However, we're still kind of in the shit and the foot hovers precariously close to that nasty banana peel.
One of the bright sparks is my new job. I'm back in the music and creative world and I love it. My artistic background *and* my office skills are both recognized and appreciated ...pretty much on a daily basis. I'm getting paid not too much more than when I married Chaz in 2000, and I'm not even complaining about it...that's how relieved I am to be in a place where I feel I fit in. I'm singing again and using my brain again and not just spinning wheels and that feels fantastic.
Another bright spark is the forging of new connections. Help, friendship and just general kindness have come from some unexpected places and for that we are truly grateful.
And the upside of having our tenant move out is that all our boxes are almost unpacked and now we feel like we are truly in our home.
The tough is not over. Though there was no Gustav physical damage, it was our first emotional experience of clearing out and packing up for evacuation. It's exhausting worrying over the things that didn't fit in the car and wondering what you're going to return to when the storm clears. Chaz is still without work and this is financially and emotionally draining for both of us. We're living in the equivalent of a Greenwich Village apartment on a bus boy salary until we get the upstairs rented out. We returned from our lovely hurrication to find one of our bank accounts hacked into and drained of the precious little money we had. We had a looting attempt. None of these individually is the end of the world...but put together over the course of three months and it will test all your hopes and dreams that this was the right move.
Time will tell, but I'm still hopeful. The hardest time (prior to this one) that Chaz and I faced was the year before we married. And having a life with him and the up swing after that rough patch has up to this point been wonderful for both of us. And I know that in the middle of that shit storm, we questioned what the hell we were doing just like we are now. So I know that there is still potential of our New Orleans life being the second best thing that ever happened to us...we just have to get to that other side.
First off, you should be oh so thankful that I waited a day to post an update. Yesterday would have been a teary, badly typo'd post filled with lots of expletives and WHY ME?!?! fist shaking while staring up at the powers that be. However, while the morning did not bring any more hope of dollars in our pocket, it did bring a tad of perspective. Or actually not perspective...more like the latest Dr. Ding superforce shrink wisdom...you can only hold an anxious panic state for so long. Now you can hold general anxiety/stress/depression for a real long time, but have you ever tried really balling for an extended period of time? I don't mean little pretty tears...I mean full force weepin' and a wailin' breast bashing and thrashing about. Believe me, if you let it all out like ya did when you were two, it just cannot go on for very long.
Of course I wasted three days of little pretty tears every couple of hours when I thought Scotsman wasn't looking..but two nights ago was a full blown sob fest. There are just not too many jobs right now. And I don't mean there aren't a lot of falootin' tootin' high horse corporate jobs..I'm talking the sound of crickets in the recruiter offices/placement agencies. Nothing says LOSER like sending out resumes and cover letters into the great vast beyond with nary a response - unless of course it's spam where they are really selling you some shit. Chaz actually got a form response from a ...wait for it...NUN... who was selling her resume services. She has fifty jobs if only Chaz paid $100 for her to revamp his resume. Uh huh, smoke another one Sister MaryJane. Actually there are more loser-ish things, but I'll get to that later. So we've been living on love, unemployment benefit thanks to Chaz' lay off two weeks before he was to give notice in NYC, and my very slim part time grooming paycheck. Which came to a grinding halt on Friday...hence the weeping.
***slight digression***
Grooming where I was was not pretty. Actually it was pretty damn horrible..and it had nothing to do with evil dogs or their owners. It had everything to do with a competitive fellow groomer who physically threatened me (nice, right? Can't say I ever had that happen to me in Corporate America) and fought over every dog that came in the shop, and oh yeah, a kind of kooky owner couple who have some *ahem* issues regarding ..oh I don't know, self esteem/insecurity b.s. and then important stuff like BUSINESS MANAGEMENT AND ADMINISTRATION?!!
How not to run your goods and services business: Waiting for the phone to ring for appointments, saving space for walk ins (how many people really spontaneously decide to groom their dog?), no advertising and bumbling around muttering "oh it's never been slow like *this* before". Um..hello?
Then there came the brilliant idea of putting us on salary after labor day when it gets busy after starving us all summer on commission....what a way to foster a healthy work environment! So I was already looking for something better or just something else and decided the game plan was get sorted financially, work on picking up clients and then perhaps go into business on my own.
***resume chron***
So Friday, "sometimes accidents happen for a reason" groomer (actual quote when she "tripped" and fell into me) and I were both sent home with no work as owner decided that while it was so slow, she was going to do all the dogs that came in and she would give us a call in a few weeks when things pick up. Cue Office Spaces boss: mmmmmm kay.
Panic ensued. We have no money. We're barely paying our bills and looking for work that isn't there and now we have even less than we did last week.
I thought I hit rock bottom when I forced myself to ask the local watering hole about the dishwasher job. Oh - and had to hold back the maniacal laughter with tears when I was told the job was filled. Secretly I thanked GirlJesus, but I was (am?) still scared shitless. What can I say, financial uncertainty is a major button.
Lo and behold last night was that last drop in the bucket..the proverbial straw. The I'm-going-to-vomit-because-I-face-impending-doom staying up all night anxiety when we received notice that our tenant (ie. half our mortgage bill) moves out the end of this month.
So I stayed up sweating and staring, tossing and turning, not knowing whether that sinking feeling was going to lead to actual toilet hurling (which incidentally I really hate doing) until I just could not sustain the dread and fell asleep. And lo and behold, I woke up this morning finding some of my cajone resolve. Thanks be again, GirlJesus.
I woke up and had two interviews...one "real" job and one minimum wage dog handler job and we'll see. The financial future is a little frightening to think about right at this moment, but we just have to do what we can knowing that at any moment things can turn around for the better. We've played out the "what then" scenarios which help to rationalize that we are still a ways away from the corner in a cardboard box. We have each other and we are in the place we love. Despite the fears and uncertainty right now we don't regret for one second moving when we did. We will get through this and are already releasing our true selves and comfortable in letting others see who we are which allows us to connect in a way we didn't do with NY/NJ. Pulling up your big girl panties and getting on with it is far more productive and mentally healthier than wallowing in dread.
Just please remind me of this in a couple of days if I'm still not generating income and there are no work bites on the horizon.
I don't ask for much, but I will ask for some karmic mojo now. We both need some good thoughts people if you have some prayers and good wishes to spare. I promise to update as soon as things look better.
Oh, and ps (speaking of glass 1/2 full) having no money works wonders for the diet! I'm down to a solid 202 for the past two weeks which I hadn't seen for awhile. When all other diets fail, just eat like you're not going to see a paycheck for awhile







Monday was glorious. I did absolutely nothing. I sat in my cupcake jammies pondering the first time in months that I have had a real weekend with no obligations - work, school or otherwise. I scratched my newly almost buzzed head (not completely buzzed...it's a kind of flock of seagulls 'do that I am totally digging) and pondered other times in my life where my hair symbolized a severance of ties. I am a 30 something corporate rebel and I do have cause.
Friday was complete bizarro land. Well let me go further back and say the four weeks leading up to last Friday was total bizarro land. I gave a month's notice thinking I had some kind of moral obligation to myself to end things in a positive way....nope, turns out I'm just a fucktard. Then I spent three weeks being completely ignored by the boss...hmmm where have I seen this emotional passive aggressive crap before? Oh yes, my last investment banking job. Then the last week was absolutely chaos. I started writing up procedures and Ghuzbag instead wanted a task list so he could clearly demonstrate who in his group would be taking on my work. Task list? Completely useless exercise highly glorified by type A project managers in Corporate America. So chaos was a little bit of oh shit things are going to suck for awhile and then some extraneous stuff like oh we're going to miss you, and oh we really need to get together before you go - ummm...you've had five years beotches. What are the PTB going to miss? Someone in a menial job who actually gave two shits when she shouldn't have bothered. The happiest people in large corporations are ones who just go with the flow....not the overachievers and not the poor sad sacks who spend their entire work day surfing porn and stealing paper clips. The happiest employees just kind of coast through with mediocre performance management reviews and mediocre commitment to getting the job done. Sadly, as much as I don't want to give a shit, I end up giving a shit. BLEGH I HATE THAT!!!!
So anyhoo I had a final week of running around completing projects and a final week of lunches, dinners, drinks and cake. A flurry of people and yet at the end of the day on Friday, I was walking out the door alone. It was kind of surreal and felt sort of slow motion. It didn't quite feel good, but yet wasn't bad either. It just was.
I will say that I was pleasantly surprised that no one balked about me trying my hand at dog grooming or even moving to New Orleans (apart from the tasteful oh work was so horrible you think even hurricane ravaged land is better commentary) I was fully expecting to be laughed at or having to justify a change in lifestyle. But not a peep. In fact, people were more times than not quite positive of my having the chutzpah to make a big change. What I found annoying were most women had to add the tag "well it's easy because you have Chaz", or "it's easy because you have a man". Not one male said that to me...don't you find that fascinating? I do.
Don't get me wrong...Chaz is the man. I have never ever said otherwise. I give him a whole heck of a lot of the credit for many a fantastic thing that has happened in my life. However, I moved to NYC with no one. No one and not a pot to piss in. I had a two week sublet and three hundred dollars worth of time to get settled, find a job and find a place to live. And all on my lonesome with a lot more emotional baggage and just hope of a new and exciting adventure. And I did it. And it was an exciting adventure. I just feel sorry for women who think that life begins after the man or after the weight loss or after FILL IN THE BLANK.
Anyway...
I'm waking up these days and doing the jig of joy!! New Orleans here we come! Puppies here I come!
I'm now currently in the midst of finishing up grooming school full time. Yesterday was so wonderful being home by 5:15 and spending the day away from a computer and doing physical labor. It was really awesome. We're surrounded by boxes and trying to be organized and planning our road trip. ROAD TRIP!!!!! About ten years later in life than what I wanted but who cares! Scotsman is creating a master play list and I'm writing lists and obsessing...just the thing I do best.
Our Bayonne place was miraculously rented out a week from our posting it..we couldn't have asked for a better situation. One of our tenants is moving out at the end of May and our plan is to leave the Big Apple on June 2nd.
Wee haa!
I am a chaos junkie.
Well not disaster and evil demons and destruction chaos, but I like the rollercoaster of adventure. I live for the thrill that change brings. I'm not sure if this is normal, but I do know that what other people call normal puts me in an anxious filled, one step away from curled up and rocking in a corner on the bed place. When I am not in action mode, it seems I have too much time to think. Action mode thinking is good...I get a ton accomplished, I am thinking with goal filled purpose etc. When in "maintainence" mode (see? I'm actually coming to a good segue here), I start having death and aging anxiety and I start feeling that quiet trickle of desperation trickle in and fill up my insides until I feel like I am going to drown.
I'm thinking that this somehow relates to weight loss and the dreaded maintaining or even worse, creeping back up. When I was wildy successful, nothing could get in my way. I had a drive and a purpose to get that old fattie gone and this time also had a loving supportive husband. When I hit a wall the first time, I wasn't ready to accept that 200 lbs was an ok weight. So I retried all the old things along with some crazy new things and because I was spinning my wheels and angry, some of the weight came back. But this weight gain and bouts of compulsive eating was still action mode. I was just replacing the frenetic action of filling out weight loss diaries and weight lifting journals and food lists with ...well food. And the act of eating with purpose well beyond nourishment of the body.
So fast forward and I get my medical issues sorted and my head sorted and I am back to the 200 place (well actually now I'm at 205 thanks to 4 weeks of kitchen renovation and having to eat out or take out) and last year I had more anxiety episodes that I really remember before. Now thinking about it, I realize that maybe a contributing factor was that lack of motion in all parts of my life that was making me a little crazy. Finally I reached a cross roads where everything was good/stable/normal/maintainence mode, and I started feeling the restless agitation again. Had the five year plan not started coming to fruition, I could well be standing here before you fighting the weight gain demons again...and 60lb demons vs the 5-8lb I plan to do battle with.
I'm not sure what my point is except maybe that I think compulsive eaters are perhaps just compulsive people who found safety or instant gratification of their compulsion with eating and food. The desire to be compulsive does not go away...EVER. Compulsive eating can be controlled, but for me, I have to accept that my itch to be compulsive or action filled will trickle out in other areas of my life. I have to accept that to feel like I am growing and thriving, I have to have one foot on a flashy skateboard. And action and new adventures with thought out and minimized risk sure beats drowning in anxiety or drowning in food for that matter.
Life update:
The kitchen can now be cooked in...thank the gods!!!! We have one more day of work with odds and sods to be completed but no workers in sight. Which is ok because they haven't gotten paid yet. Chaz did play terribly polite but bad cop (yum) and checked to see if they were ever going to come around. I think the threat of me ebaying their tools got them to agree to Monday.
Easter this weekend - holy smokes how did that happen? I can honestly say I have yet to have my cadbury egg this season and that is in fact some kind of heresy.
I'm packing, tossing, ebaying, amazon market placing with fervor and passion. I can't believe that I am fetching some coins for paperbacks..this is wonderful and I'm putting it in my must-pay-the-movers tip jar. Selling cookbooks on Amazon (greysangel) and paperback lots on ebay (scotsheart) in case anyone is interested.
Speaking of movers - I finally have gotten my mom to get over the fact that I am not strapping the boxes to my back and walking them down to New Orleans. Seriously. She suggested Pods which was a tremendously good idea except for the fact that they need a driveway and we have none. So she spent the last two weeks urging me to consider all roads which basically pointed to us schlepping our house down. Oh hells no. I drive an old honda accord. Honda accords are NOT moving trucks. There is no way we are hitching anything to my little car or that I am going to turn into rhoda the big wheeler for a couple days. I'll pack...no probs there..in fact I'm probably way too anal to let other people do that business. But having a reputable company move us? I'm sure it will be worth every penny.
Speaking of couple of days - anyone got some must stops between Bayonne and New Orleans? I'm thinking maybe barbeque in Birmingham, but it's a long way between here and even there. I'm thrilled and terrified of the road trip aspect of this move. Me + Chaz + puppies for 18+ hours = we best have some damn good music.
Our house here goes up for rent hopefully next week.
I'm flying down to NOLA for one night only to do job interviews on Tuesday. For totally opposite ends of the spectrum, I have one interview for a historic development group and another for a dog grooming business
We are officially count down to I QUIT!!! WOO. I'm vested. WOO. I'm giving notice for the end of April so that I can finish up dog grooming school in May and have some time to pack and finish up in this neck o' the woods. Chaz is trying to hold out to the end of April so that we can stagger the last pay checks and income coming in.
Life is looking sunny on our side of the street!
13 going on 30 is one of my favorite chick flicks...it's right up there with Mean Girls and Bring It On. Jennifer Garner is adorable and though I'm not nearly as cute or fashionable as Jennifer at 30 but really 13, I sometimes feel like I'm right there with her. I certainly don't feel 36. Somehow in my mind I've conjured up a 36 year old to be mature and doing grown up things. While I'm fairly mature, I often don't like to be. I like to read Young Adult novels...especially in the sort of science fictiony/fantasy/supernatural genre. I like Hello Kitty, cutesy t shirts (johnny cupcakes and David and Goliath please!) and cheap jewelry and sparkly makeup. I wear a bear hat with ears and rain boots with cherries. I do fairy dances and make up songs. I think I grew up really super fast and somehow missed the kind of irreverence and whimsy of being a kid. So silly pops out here and there. Is there a point where we *need* to grow up completely? Is it ok to do things like hold down a job, own a home and still like to wait until the last Funyun before licking your fingers clean?
Anyhoo in case you haven't picked up on it yet, it's my birthday. Yup. And usually I am counting down from the New Year to this lovely day. Somehow this year the first two months have escaped me and so this year is completely without ritual. Like counting down. Like torturing Chaz with said countdown. He's gotten off SO lucky this year with maybe only 10 references to my approaching special day. And there aren't any plans and I don't even get to make a cake (which gives me the perfect opportunity to buy something extra sinfully yummy desserty delicious). Not to be all New Yorker, but it's a little crazycakes right now:
Work is busy and yet I'm strangely detached from it now that I'm vested. Oh yes that's right. Those beotches are working for me now. By some strange ironic turn of events I got a letter in the mail informing me that the pension now vests at 3 years, not 5. And while I could have wasted energy shaking my fists of rage that I get this 2 months away from my five year finish line instead of OH TWO YEARS AGO, I didn't. Instead I whooped and hollered like I won a million dollars and did the bouncing, crazy David Brent dance of delight. So needless to say, frankly my dears, I don't give a rat's ass. I've officially started looking for jobs in New Orleans and trying to work my few leetle connections.
And let's just say that looking for a job in New Orleans when you're in New York City is a little hard. Not impossible with this new fangled thang called the interweb (my property manager is so cute when he's says things like interweb and Craigspace and facepage)..but a challenge when you're competing with people who are already there. I actually got an interview for a facilities manager job and because of jury duty am having to beg for a phone interview so that I can still be in the running. This is the part where I beg for some prayers and sacrificial offerings that I at least get considered!
Mom's praying for me. Which I think actually helped us as we only lost 2 weeks of mortgage before renting the NOLA place out. Yippie skippie we don't need to put Angus and the cup out on the corner for spare change! And the best part is downstairs is rented out on a 6 month lease and upstairs 3 month lease...POIFECT!
Which leads me to jury duty. As you can guess I got picked for a case. And while there are incredibly long periods of wanting to poke your eyes out boredom and waiting/down time, I think everyone should do this shit once in their lives. I am learning so much and I have a new found respect for the process. It's not always fair and not perfect by any means, but hey it's better than having a random body part cut off. So more dancing of joy that I don't have to be in the office right now, but it's hard because I'm still having to get a lot of my work done which means logging on during my lunch hour and after court.
So all that would be enough, except we have to throw a gutted kitchen into the mix. Hells yeah. Kitchen renovation. It's amazing to me that with all the renovation we have done, you would think we would not be flabbergasted each and every time that 1)contractors lie (actually House says everyone lies) 2)it's *never* an easy/fast job and 3)there is always at least one surprise. So our one week kitchen job is now approaching the second week and all they have done is gut the room and update electrics. Can we say cold, dank dirty room? Can we say an inch of dust EVERYWHERE? My kitchen supplies, canned goods and furniture all in the dining and living rooms? The hardest part is that we are making do with a coffee pot, a crock pot and a microwave. Shit sux.
But it's a means to an ends y'all! We're going to get our Bayonne place pretty so that it will rent out, get some jobs and high tail our asses on out of here! Happy Birthday to me!