Tuesday, March 18, 2008

I've never really considered myself a Chicken Little kinda of gal. The sky isn't falling and life doesn't suck. I mean, MOST of the time I don't particularly generate the whole doom and gloom outlook on life. Can I be pessimistic? Hell yeah. But I don't revel in it like some.

BUT...

This economy shit sucks major ass. (spoken like a true, well-educated, gentile southerner)

I hate spending my shoe money on gas for the car. I hate spending my Gray Goose money on milk and bread. (heaven forbid I actually switch to cheap vodka. I'd rather be thirsty!) I hate spending my vacation money on inflated utility bills. I hate worrying about throwing money away by investing in a moderate risk, market-based retirement plan. I mean, if I save and save, then I would be SO FREAKING PISSED OFF if the stock market went all depression era sucky and I lost all my Geritol money. Damn it.

So, I think I'm going to adopt the Marie Antionette theory on life. We shall all eat cake and to hell with the rest.

I refuse to continue to avidly soak up my daily allowance of cnn or money.com. I won't look at the political news or watch debates or worry about going green. I refuse to hear anything mentally distressing--except the latest on Britney. Instead I will focus on fashion, entertainment, and the horoscopes. Maybe the comics. But not even the jumble because it just pisses me off when I can't think of the answer.

Maybe I'll even go hippy. Except that I must bathe daily and wear cute shoes. So, maybe not so much on the hippy thing. But starting today, I begin my quest to become ignorant, uninformed, and blissfully unaware of the world around me.

Just you wait, in two months time, I'll bet I even start watching Flavor of Love.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

I hate my job. I know, it's been said before, but unfortunately in this instance I'm probably in agreement with at least ninety percent of the working population. I hate ungrateful customers who won't lift a finger to scratch their own ass. I hate liars and frauds and cheats who try to 'get one over' on the insurance company. I hate this office, with it's florescent lighting and dirty green carpet. I hate my boss with his inability to do anything at all, including buying some goddamned paper towels and coffee at Wal-mart without me spoon feeding it to him. Most of all, I hate my no-work-ethic-having, calling-in-sick, lazy-ass motherfucking co-workers.

Now, that venom all spewed out in the open, here's my dilemna:

I get paid quite a bit for this job. Enough so that I'm having a hard time changing jobs without taking a pretty harsh pay cut. The family won't starve if I did this, but our Cozumel trips and weekly dinners out would come to a screeching halt for a while. And I'm pretty sure amazon.com, oldnavy.com, and penneys.com would no longer know me on a first name basis. I might even have to let go of the platinum visa for a while. Well, scratch that last bit, I won't be POOR, just not living up to my usual quality of life. Yes, this sounds snotty to me and like a no brainer. BUT at what point is your mental happiness worth those extra zeroes at the end of your paycheck?

It should be never, right? But that's not the case at all. Not for me, and not for tons of other people out there, counting down the days each week until Friday. Then trying to cram a weeks' worth of life into the next two days.

Monday, March 3, 2008

The spouse is currently doing his semi-annual 'business trip' to Las Vegas and I've been playing at being a single mom for the past several days. I have to say that I honestly think that anyone being a solo parent (or at least a GOOD, solo parent-anybody can be a sucky parent) has had my highest regards since the first overnight trip the spouse went on. It's hard being the only one there, with no one to turn to and say, "I've had enough. It's your turn."

I still remember the first time Bill went out of town. Eight days and seven nights in Atlanta, Georgia. The rugrat was about 14 months old and I lost seven pounds while he was gone. I missed him so badly, and was so stressed about getting to work on time, making a healthy dinner for just the 1.5 of us, and still keeping the house in perfect order... well, let's just say that at the time, I was in hell. Now I just realize that I'm a lucky girl to miss her husband so badly. We've been married almost twelve years and I still get depressed when he leaves. Aaah, luv twoo luv....

Anywhoo.... the low point of this trip has been Bill calling on a Saturday night. While I'm home with the kiddo, after cancelling drunken girlfriend plans, (the kid's sleepover plans had fallen through) and he's had a few beers and is out partying in Vegas with some co-workers and customers. Dude, don't piss me off like that. You won't like the results. But, I can proudly admit that instead of getting all whiney and Pitiful Mclonlipants, I put on a Taebo dvd and rocked out the hour long workout. Now, if Bill could just KEEP pissing me off for the next couple of months, I'd have the abs of my dreams.... :-)

Yep, it's that time of year again ladies. Time for the 2008 version of your Annual Spring into the Gym Before Your Chubby Ass Hits the Beach. Otherwise known as the Desperation Point. I have a Cozumel trip planned and two of my very tan and skinny friends are going to be laying on the beach next to me. To put it delicately, if I don't do something, I'm gonna stand out a bit. And not in a good way. I mean, I'm not trying to be the skinny drunk blonde in Carlos and Charlies sporting a tiny skirt and bikini top and you KNOW is gonna puke those Rum Runners all over that sweaty boy that's grinding up on her... I just want to the cute, un-jiggly, kinda-tan mom. I'm good with that.

Wish me luck. Send me good karma. Or good willpower.....