I need to develop some discipline and better manage my time. Only two rows on the white Sitcom Chic since Monday, which is also the last time I exercised, not to mention a host of household tasks remain undone. So I'm cutting back on my online time, because it really is an addiction and a bad habit, and I need to get control over it now. It was a sanity saver when I was cooped up in the house doing caregiver duty, but now it's turning into a time eating monster, and leading to laziness and burned out lightbulbs that haven't been replaced and a dining room table covered in junk mail. Oh, and I haven't ironed, either. So for the next few weeks, at least, (until I develop discipline and better habits) I'm limiting my online time to checking email and maybe 3 blog updates a week - that way there may actually be some substantive content in the updates. Because this is becoming pathetic really damn fast.


Lots of commentary on the blog circuit lately about the politics of linking and why we blog, and that, in a strange way, contributed to my decision to cut back my online time, because I could see myself getting sucked in to worrying about these things, despite myself, if I don't set some rules for myself. It's easy to start taking this too seriously and start worrying about what other people (the cool people with the Important Blogs) think of your blog's content, and feel an urge to Try Harder, because maybe if you knit cooler stuff or post more pictures or whatever, your blog will be Important. Whatever the hell that means. I blog because I feel like it. I'll stop doing it when it stops being worth my time. Link it or don't. My links are haphazard, and I assume most other people's are too - I linked to a few blogs I read often, but there are others I read and like very much that I haven't gotten around to adding - it's not a list of the people I think are coolest, it's just the ones that I had just looked at when I felt like messing with the template. I assume this is true of most of us, so I promise not to be miffed if I'm not on your list, if you won't be miffed if you're not on mine. It's just a blog.


I'll leave you with this bizarre answering machine message. The background on this is that I had talked to the One Smart Person at the funeral home and told her that I would PICK UP my copies of the death certificate, because they're 5 minutes from my office and I could swing by, get them and take them back to the office to fax and mail to the various entities that need 'em. That way I'd have them immediately, because it takes long enough for the damn things to get processed and I'm antsy to get the paperwork going and put the tasks behind me. Just hold them, I'll pick them up. Easy instructions, right? How can they screw this up, when they don't have to do ANYTHING? I'll call them to check to see if they are in, I'll come by and pick them up. Do nothing. So they were supposed to be back from Vital Statistics yesterday - don't ask me why it took two weeks - and I came home at lunchtime to see a blinking light on my answering machine. I had a bad feeling, and sure enough, a different, dull and droning female voice:

"Mrs. [ ]? This is ------- -------- funeral home. I just wanted to tell you that the death certificates came in, and I put them IN THE MAIL to you. You should have them in a few days."

As opposed to having them that very afternoon, in my office, with a fax machine handy. Thank you for helpfully violating my explicit instructions, that's just fucking great. I'm swearing at the answering machine already, because now I won't have the damn things until Friday - but here comes the kicker - after a pause, Dumb Bitch says helpfully,

"These are for [husband's name]."


Because, you know, I might not remember whose death certificate I was getting if she didn't clarify that for me. This is the level of moron I've been dealing with throughout this experience. And I had to pay them thousands of dollars for the pleasure.