Random

Tonight, I really want to write. 

I can't seem to think of anything appropriate to say... this is a problem I seem to be having. Only inappropriate things come to mind.

Back when I was still under the care of mental health professionals (...I really wanted to type something saucy or self-denigrating about my 'shrink' ... it's people like me that do the most damage to the 'mental health awareness' cause. I need to stop that.) I was told to write even when I couldn't think of anything to say. Even if it had to be "I don't know what to write"... 

My kids both seem to be okay with their respective schools, teachers and friend groups. 

*wipes brow* 

Thank fuckity fucknards!   

I gotta tell ya, I was sweatin' on Wednesday when they were headed back for their first days. I had to leave. The tension was suffocating. I kissed them both on their rotten little heads and told them I 100% believed in them... and I left.

I have to stop standing in front of everything that comes at them. I'm pretty level with my kids in lots of mature areas, but they have no real idea what we've been through. 

**There was that last year in the house, before we lost it... we had a wood stove and that was our primary source of heat. In a 3500 square foot house. When I would get up in the morning to get the girls ready, you'd be able to see your breath in our rooms. I'd bring them into the kitchen and get them dressed in front of an electric fireplace... but neither of them remembers that. In fact, my first born wrote a poem about those years within a year of us moving, and it was all about camp fires and hodgepodge and family. 

I burst into tears when I read it. I've never been more proud of myself in my life, than I was to read that poem. I know, I totally made her piece of art about me... but I am the mother, and I didn't fuck it up! 

Now, that's paying off in spades... we're tight, my girls and me. 

It isn't really fair, I've been the one who has been with them full time. Their father kind of 'visits'. It's a sin. He works so much, and I get all the reward. Mind you, I also get all of the work that goes with 'home'... but I truly don't mind one bit... 

Well... I guess I'm starting to mind the being 'alone' part, but I think that's a thread to pull another day.**

We're headed out of town with the Association this week. I hate to say it, but I am looking forward to it. It's a golf thing. I don't golf, but I'm one of those annoying 'first-time-lucky' people. Either that, or I am just that competitive, I bend the universe to my will... yes, I do believe that to be true. I remember an ex of mine throwing a little hissy fit, because I mopped the floor with him at mini golf - and had never held a club. That was amusing.

I'm not golfing at this, either... I'm the bloody "hole in one 'hole spotter' girl"... it sounds dreadful, but based on some of the conversations I've had in the last couple of weeks with my 'golfers', I imagine there will be plenty of fun. I have several sheets of sparkly stickers... for them to put on their... golf bags??? I can just see it being a good laugh all day. Plus there's alcohol. That's helpful. I mean, I wouldn't allow myself to get drunk with these people. That would be stupid, but a couple will greatly improve four hours sitting at a damned hole! 

My predecessor was French, rather attractive, had fake nails, eyelashes, tan, hair... you name it, and was as crazy as a shit-house rat. Apparently, she not only told off a couple of association members, she also tried to cry rape the next day. Unfortunately for her, she named someone that had an irrefutable alibi. 

Otherwise, she'd likely have my job right now.

So all I really have to do is not tell anyone off and I'm golden... and I mean, let's be real here, I can be an awkward doofus in personal situations, but this business mingling seems to come to me naturally. My old boss, Narci said dozens of times that I was born for sales. He didn't realize I didn't take that as a compliment from him, but it was how he meant it. I can work a room.

I can't sit across from someone I actually like and keep my heart from climbing out of my mouth... but a room full of contractor-types, all preening like a bunch of peacocks... and to be one of only two women that actually appear to be women... yeah, I got this. 

My husband is meeting me for that night. I imagine all that attention will translate into a pretty enjoyable late night rendezvous for him. Plus there is a guy that is going to this that scares the shit out of me. If he was going to try anything stupid, that'd be the night - amid the chaos of the afternoon into evening. It will be very comforting knowing someone is close by that can insert themselves on my behalf, should the need arise. I keep telling myself I'm being silly, but instinct is usually bang on and I'd really rather be silly, than dead. 

That means I have only one night to keep myself outta Any major trouble. Surly to gawd, I can manage that, right?

Ugh... I'm boring myself.

Alright... I think I need to go and read. That should maybe keep me outta major trouble tonight.

D-out