Monday, September 9, 2013


I am a procrastinator. 
But I do not tolerate this trait in others very well.

All weekend I planned to do something FUNLike make cards.
Instead, I spent hours cleaning my DVR (aka, watching TV), and a good chunk of time playing a video game on my phone (Joey would laugh!).

And at 10:15 last night, after I decided to clean the kitchen counters (yes, the floor is still gross), I thought to myself, “Wow!  You still have a good three hours to make cards. 

At 11:30 I was still sitting in front of the TV.  I got hooked on Mad Men last week, and my addiction was strong.

Finally I turned off the TV and went to bed.  George decided to sleep in my room since it has the air conditioner.  Around 12:30 we turned the air off, and I fell asleep.

I awoke at 5:40 to a raging downpour, that continued until 8:07.  At 5:41 I double-check my alarm settings and went back to sleep.  Wrapped in the knowledge that the roof was not leaking, as it had during the last storm when Kent swore it was due to a backed up rain gutter.  The silence lulled me to sleep, along with the distant rolling thunder.

I awoke at 6:40, 6:44, 7:00, and finally at 7:10 I told George it was time to get up.

I proceeded to the bathroom to put on makeup since I didn’t want to carry make up in my bag to work.  Trying to simplify.
Trying to lessen the weight in my bag.
Trying to actually GET ready for work BEFORE I arrive at work.

Oh, who’s kidding who?
I was trying to make room for my bag of Snyder’s Pretzel sticks, which I am currently addicted to.

Knowing the rain was going to be an issue, I switched from my smaller bag (a thank you gift from a gal at work) to my normal larger-than-a-flat-screen-t-v bag. 

But after carrying the small bag for a few days, the large bag seemed extra roomy.

A certain indication that I need to take more stuff with me to work.

So I load up my bag with at least fifty water color pencils, an acrylic block, a sunflower stamp, paint brushes, a permanent ink pad, two pens, two markers.  And a pencil. 

Then I went back for my “only a mother can love it” wood mount rubber stamp that consists of
A rooster
Standing on a lamb
Standing on a pig who is
Standing on a cow.

I love this stamp. 

I also throw in a bottle of bacon bits, a 2-cup jar of homemade potato soup, an extra pantiliner, sinus and allergy medicine.

At this point, I am hot.

I remove my short-sleeved suit jacket because I know that it will easily slip across my large bag as I race through the downpour and dash (ok, trudge) across the parking lots to get to my building.  Once I get there, of course.

So I’m in the bathroom putting on my makeup. 
Yyyyeaaahhh, I should have spent 7 minutes this weekend bleaching my mustache.
Hind sight, and all that.

I’m working on my eyeliner.  I use an eyebrow pencil for eyeliner. 
I don’t know why.
But this morning it is dull.
But the sharpener is buried in the bottom of my large bag,
In the bottom of the box that contains 50+ colored pencils.
So I use the eyeliner pencil as-is, and clean it up with a Qtip. 
(Note to self: you only have four of these left.  It’s almost time to buy some more.)

I then begin to apply some Oil of Olay with sunscreen because the skies will surely clear up and I will surely want to spend my lunch hour walking in the park rather than at my desk with the rubberstamps and other crafty things in my purse. 

I mean, let’s face it.  We all knew the likelihood of my actually USING the items I put in my bag was slim.

As I put away the Oil of Olay I hear a drip drip drip.
In the ceiling.

In two places.


We had a problem in the bathroom once before with a leak, when it actually started leaking onto the floor.  So there’s nothing I can do about it except remember to tell Kent to call our landlord Mr. Wilson, and be thankful that we do not own the house.  This is why we rent. 

And I make a mental note to remind Kent to mention the----------

“….Mom there’s a leak!” George calls from the bedroom.

I sigh.

I told Kent about that before.
I’m shaking my head, but finish putting on my powder foundation (it really covered that red blotchy area where I have deep frown—I mean concentration – lines) when I can’t believe my ears.

Am I hearing that correctly?

I go to the bedroom.

And my ears did not deceive.


Now, given that there’s a literal downpour outside, what is inside is less severe.
Except that is only because it is being slowed by shingles, tar paper, plywood, insulation, and dry wall.

I know all this because of HGTV.

And I think:
I Told You So!!
Why didn’t you listen to me?
Why can’t you take care of something when the problem starts?
Why didn’t you do this
Why didn’t you do that?
Why is there a huge box of MAIL, surely filled with important bills to be paid and junk mail to open, sitting in the corner of my bedroom---on KENT’s side!!??

Upon closer inspection I see that there are three leaks in the bedroom, and I try to position the large tote, using a kitchen chair, strategically so that it catches all the water.

It’s impossible.

I thank God that I
And put away
The Towels.

But it’s Kent’s problem now.  I have to get ready for work.

I finish my makeup.
(How is it possible that a white dog hair can imbed itself among my eyelashes while I am sleeping?  It takes four tries to get it out.)

I’m wearing a new shirt today.

It’s too small.

But it will look great under a jacket. 

It’s more Vanessa than Margie in color.
But I saw it a week or so ago at Walmart.  Only one.  Someone obviously returned it to ours after purchasing it at another walmart store.  It’s a size 20 (misses).  I’m a 2X 3X 4X or so (womens), but I took it as providential when it was still at WalMart on Saturday when I went and since it was only $9.87 I bought it.  It has lovely buttons all the way down the back of the shirt…..  It’ll be fine under my jacket, as long as I don’t plan to do anything that requires my arms to be over my head, at which point the shirt will raise and I’m pretty sure people will see my bra.

“Misses” must be shorter than “Women”.

Kent comes home.
I fill him in on the rain leaks, including the new one around the back door.

I resist, really hard, the urge to say I told you so.
I deserve an academy award.

I put on my ultra nice short trench coat, tie the belt, put on my bag, grab the dvds so I can return Mad Men (hoping they get season six SOON), pick up the umbrella, kiss the husband, say goodbye to the dog, and I’m out the door.

Kent said I needed gas.
That I might need it before I get to work.

The attached picture is what greeted me this morning.

I’m sitting on the hill in Jonesville praying I’ll coast to the gas station that is at the bottom of the hill.
But I am not too concerned because I know from playing my video game “Hill Climber” that the momentum from my vehicle going downhill will get me up the small incline to the gas station. 

I get gas.
And a 2liter of Pepsi.
I’m going to need it.

I get to work.
It stops raining.
I gather my bag and Pepsi, lock the doors, double-check I have my keys, get to my office, share the story about the gas with some of my co-workers.

Hang up my coat.

Pull down the sleeves of my new shirt since they are too tight and ride up.  They’re more like capped sleeves.

I go to put on my jacket
….it’s right at home where I left it.

Happy Muuunday to Me.

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