A Little Simple...

I am, you know... in a couple of different iterations, too.

Like, my world is very small, my expectations are very low, and it takes nothing to entertain me, simple... only need to be heard to leave a battle, simple, and if I am touching you 'not for the purpose of killing a stingy bug', I want sex, simple.

Problem is, I'm another kind of simple, too. The dumb kind.

I'm avoiding washing my floors right now. The reason behind that decision likely isn't what normal people might think. It's because in order to mop, I have to vacuum and my big fat cat is snoodled up on the couch in a patch of sun, and I just don't have the heart to disturb that kind of happy, simple.

My house is almost clean. Or at least as clean as it gets. My counters got stripped off and bleached today. My sink got bleached and scrubbed - a necessity when there are tea and coffee drinkers in the house. I cleaned out the front closet and the hooks at the front door. I even reorganized the 'drug cupboard', which led to the spices and tea and then, I finished off the corner with the bread, cookies and pasta cupboards. All three bathrooms are done with the exception of the floors. Once I get them done, my pad is clean!

This makes me happy. 

Simple.

I have put some beautiful food in front of my family for the past few days. I made corn chowder this weekend. It's only the second time I've made it. I think it's even better this time. Oh my sweet Jesus! That stuff is good! It is so thick and creamy, and bacon-y. Not exactly waistline friendly, but as far as comfort food goes, it is about as good as it gets. Had I gotten to the Valley this weekend, I'd have made my apple crisp, too. That would have been perfection! Alas, my apples remain unpicked until next weekend.

This makes me happy. 

Simple.

It's so beautiful outside today. I have a load of clothes hanging on my clothesline. The rest of the laundry is already done, folded and away - including my bed sheets.

This makes me happy. 

Simple.

I'm on my own most of this week. Hubs is gone tonight, back for a few hours of sleep tomorrow some time, then gone to Newfi-land for most of the rest of the week. That doesn't really make me happy... although I don't mind it like I used to. Unfortunately, he won't be back until Saturday this time and he works Sunday, so it's going to suck a little that way. I'm used to getting an extra day for the past couple of weeks, and now I'm losing an extra... and I have been needy. Like seriously needy.

Here's where 'simple' becomes problematic. My body does not care that he has to work. My body wants attention... now. Right now, in fact... and it isn't my 'own attention' I'm after. It's like a strong craving... constantly.

Oh Carly Simon - you sing it, girl! 'Tell her... tell her you were foolin'... tell her she don't even know you'...

I love my play list. 

My taste in music is so entirely bizarre. I have some really good, edgy stuff. Classic stuff, current stuff... Everley Brothers to Evanescence, Audioslave to April Wine, The Hip to Tom Petty... and then the inexplicable Kanye West, Nicki Minaj and Missy Elliot. Kinda like getting a cinnamon heart by accident in a handful of smarties... but that keeps me happy, too. 

I'm rather a little like that myself. 

I don't often attract folks with no opinion. I find people who 'get' me and my wacko humour, tend to like me quite a lot and likewise, people that don't... simply don't. I think people generally see me as 'vanilla'... and maybe now and then, the odd person gets a cinnamon heart in one of those vanilla bites and boom! I'm not vanilla in their eyes anymore... even though nothing else really changed, I'll forever be cinnamon...

It's amusing that I used that analogy, since I'm not even that big of a fan of cinnamon. More so, given the fact that I'm often not a huge fan of my own. Funny how that worked out.

Tonight, I am going to have a bath and slip into my freshly line dried sheets, under my heavy blankies, in a cool room, with a cool breeze... and dream of snickerdoodles and cinnamon buns.