When faced with an overwhelming, daunting number of time-consuming, labor intensive tasks, I did what any sensible human would do - I colored my hair and had a couple of glasses of wine and went to bed early. That shit will still be here this weekend, I'm off Friday, and I don't need to kill myself.
Tomorrow I have to meet Boss at 6:45 - yes, that's AYEM - we're off to an all day mediation. I do get a decent dinner at the other end of it, but the long drive home takes away something from the pleasure of the meal. Especially since I will have to get up at about 4:30 to get caffeinated and beautified, and tend to the critters before leaving the house.
Knitting? Hah. I have done everything but. I will, however, slide the Sockotta socks into my bag for tomorrow's mediation, and if things get dull, I will make progress on a sock or two. I'm sure this will be amusing for the construction types I hang with. I have an explanation for "Why do you do that?" prepared: "It's a condition of my parole. If I sit around bored for too long, um, things happen."
Random observations: What is with the memorials to dead NASCAR drivers and dead relatives on the backs of pickup trucks? Is this happening anywhere else?
Apparently it's possible to get a custom window decal, commemorating the passing of Dale and/or JimmyBob. It's so freaking weird.
This morning I took Murphy for his walkie and there was a gorgeous hawk sitting on the roof of my house, right at the highest peak, looking all noble and gorgeous in the early light. The hawk was still there when we came back, so I got the camera and came back out - and it was gone. I think it was a red-shouldered hawk, because if you play the audio on this link, this is the call I've heard every morning when I walk the dog. I think the hurricanes displaced some birds, and they are finding alternative housing - like the trees in our subdivision.
I always thought that I'd have my life together by the time I was this age, and here I am, starting over. But you know, it's not so bad. The other day I was talking to my 78 y.o. mother, who was filling me in on the status of various great aunts and pseudo-relatives - an astounding number of the women I knew in childhood are still alive and kicking.
Here's the kicker: the last time I saw most of them was at my Gram's funeral, when I was 12. I'm 46. That was uh, 34 years ago? So those women, who I remember as very heavyset, in flowered dresses and perms, very Aunt Bea/grandma-like, were actually THE AGE I AM NOW!!! It's no joke that 40 is the new 30, and 50 (or is it 60?) is
the new 40. I look in the mirror and really can't bitch too much - yes, I could be 15 pounds thinner and my hair frizzes in humidity and my abs need crunches, but...damn! I'm in size 10 jeans and comfortable in clingy knit tops and three inch heels, and yeah, I need reading glasses until I can afford Lasik, but all in all, I'm so happy to be the age I am now in the era we are in now. I I remember those women, who were my current age then - they were in flowered dresses and red lipstick, like freakin' Aunt Bea, at this age!
These women wore corsets! Sensible shoes! Support Hose and Girdles! They had no careers, nothing to occupy their days, they were fulltime widows, or took care of their aging parents, or otherwise were occupied in entirely domestic pursuits. They were MY AGE??? Oh my GOD! I did the math, realized it's true, and...I can't imagine! Tomorrow I will put on my grownup work clothes (vs the comfy stuff) - a v-neck knit shirt and a microsuede skirt, and slingback heels - and go to a mediation and dinner in a nice restaurant and lots of laughs and brain stimulation in between. I am SO not ready to retire to Supportive Undergarments and Sara Lee. I am still just buggin' that those women were MY AGE!!! I'm not freaked out in a "OhmyGodI'msoOld!" way, just in disbelief that this is what 46 looked like 35 years ago! It was a real shocker, and also a really happy, I'm so glad to be me and to be here, now, in this era, in this moment.
Could my life be easier? Hell yes. Could it be much worse? Oh God, I'm so glad to be here and dealing with the hand I'm dealt. It was so much worse for my mother's era. SO much worse.
Blogger is trying to open the posting page even as I type. I think I'll be doing all my writing in Notepad henceforth, it's not worth losing it.
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