Binging

What is it about the word “budget” that makes me want to hit the mall?

At least Amazon and PRANA dot com.

All I want is new shit to wear in my poverty: new things to distract me from my empty stomach. All under the guise of  “If I dress like a writer then I will be a writer and then I will write the Great American Novel and make it onto the New York Times Best Seller List and it will be totally worth the new yoga pants. And, if I don’t get those cute pants, then when it’s time to sit down and write all I will have to wear is distractingly uncomfortable clothing that will not allow my brain the freedom it needs to put words on paper.”

So yeah, I need to shop.

Most of the time, online window shopping works for me. I go to multiple websites, spend hours finding just the right items (including the solar powered rechargeable battery charger for my new wireless mouse that goes with my new desktop computer) fill up my shopping basket, narrow it down, then close the page and leave feeling totally satisfied.

But when I am on this tight of a budget, the kind where I am not allow to spend any money on any thing except living expenses, a few full carts doesn’t make a dent in the need to spend.

Eventually I’ll get into the groove, I will enjoy seeing how much money I can save. Having been extremely successful at denying myself food for several years, I can easily starve my spending habits and gain a little pride with every penny that lands in the piggy bank.

It’s just that getting to the place of sensible self denial takes a lot of tenacity that I’m not really feeling today as much as I am the need to have a new dress to wear on my book tour.

 

Today is the day

imagesSort of.

I just packed everything personal into my car.

My desk is clean.

The plants and photo of my dog are in a box.

There are no pictures, no witty quotes, no personal files.

The music remains.

Because who doesn’t want a collection of Elvis Presley in their iTunes?

It’s such a weird feeling because today I am done, but I will be back to help out and cover for a few days.

Someone said to me, “It’s not really your last day?” But it feels like it is because it’s my last day of being a full time employee.

Last day of a steady paycheck.

Everything from now on is filling in or helping out.

I am no longer THE Admissions Manager.

I want to hop in my car right this minute and drive away, but I will wait until I can say goodbye to someone who I will miss terribly.

I have lived this life for over 7 years and many times I have tried to imagine life beyond.

It was easier to imagine that before I was actually faced with it.  Now I can’t even begin to fathom what it might look like.

I am terrified and excited and I really want a shot of tequila.imgres

absolute brilliance copied from another blog

28 LESSONS WE’VE LEARNED FROM PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

Pride and Prejudice 1895 edition illustrated by Hugh ThomsonToday marks the 202nd anniversary of Pride and Prejudice’s publication, a cultural milestone that almost never was thanks to a dismissive publisher who rejected Jane Austen’s manuscript First Impressions in 1797. Sixteen years later, Thomas Egerton bought the rights to Pride and Prejudice for just £110…and the rest, as they say, is literary history. So today, the twenty-eighth day of January, in honor of P&P’s birthday, Bas Bleu is sharing our list of twenty-eight life lessons we learned from Miss Austen, Lizzie Bennet, Mr. Darcy, and, yes, even Mr. Wickham.

1. Beware of truths universally acknowledged.

2. Be persistent in the face of rejection.

3. There is great joy in a long walk.

4. Don’t set too much stock in first impressions.

5. There are worse things than being single…like being married to Mr. Collins.

6. A six-hour movie isn’t too long if it’s the right story.

7. You can learn a lot about a man by the way he treats his sister.

8. You can’t hide in the library forever.

9. Sharp wit and a pair of fine eyes are worth far more than an expensive dress.

10. The man of your dreams will love you even when you have a terrible cold.

11. When in doubt, say it in a letter.

12. Never play dumb to attract a man.

13. Don’t make important life choices just to soothe your mother’s nerves.

14. Men, always keep your home ready for unexpected guests. You never know when the love of your life will show up.

15. Bad boys are not worth it.

16. Gorge all you want at a banquet as long as you’re wearing an empire-waist dress.

17. It’s not the end of the world if your little sister gets married before you do.

18. A dashing uniform does not make the man.

19. “Obstinate, headstrong girl!” really is a compliment.

20. Don’t be stingy about giving others a second chance. You never know when your own happiness may depend on one.

21. When it comes to a man’s library, size matters.

22. An intelligent woman should never tolerate a disrespectful man…no matter how rich he is.

23. A great love story is always in style.

24. It really is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.

25. Marrying your true love means marrying his or her entire family.

26. Men may leave you, but your sisters never will.

27. Happy relationships are based on more than romance.

28. Colin Firth then, Colin Firth now, Colin Firth forever.

Oh Holy Shit What Have I Done????????

I quit and it felt good – felt great as a matter of fact.

But my oh my, those feel goods aren’t going to put food on the table.

I am really excited for the new possibilities, but my vision of writing all day in my sunny new office doesn’t take into account poverty, an empty fridge, and crying hungry children.

I’m trying to believe that it will all work out, that we won’t starve, that this is really a good step in my life.

But I haven’t been truly unemployed since I stayed home with my babies and even then I was piecing together odd jobs and I was married to a man who had steady work.

Now I don’t have that safety net and I’m verging on a freak-out.

I am cashing out a teensy retirement account that isn’t nearly enough for a week of retirement, but what’s left after the IRS has had its way with it, will get me through a month or two.

I’m not a big believer in Prayer, but I am trying to be a big believer in faith and trust.

Trust in myself, my abilities, my talents and my work ethic.

Faith that it will all work out in the end.

I am taking a huge step off the edge and I don’t know how big the fall might be, but I’m resilient so hopefully, even if the fall is huge, I will bounce back.

Yikes.

Speaking a foreign language

I want the pink one.

Why do you wear your hair in buns?

I like your earrings. They’re sparkly.

Your scarf is different colors.

Your scarf is like a mini blanket.

Where’d you get your dress? It’s pretty

Thank you for the nice dinner.

and this one…

I like your duvet.

Out of the mouths of babes.

Girl babes – babes as in small children, not babes.

We have family in town and they brought a 4 year old and a 7 year old and these are the questions that I am being asked and quite honestly, I am stunned.

I have boys.

Do you think they ever think about the colors in my scarf? Do they even notice that I am wearing one? Do they even know what one is?

And the only time they comment on what I am wearing is to tell me that I look weird, because they have no idea what constitutes an excellent sense of style.

And a bun? The only buns they can name is a man-bun and they would only talk about that in the same breath as “cut that thing off.”

And even thinking about the word Duvet coming out of their mouths…

Well, to come out of their mouths, the word must first exist in their brains, and we know that it doesn’t so that thing on my bed will continue to be that thing on my bed.

 

Better today

It’s only 6:21, but I know it’s better.

We are a household big on apologies and forgiveness.

Peter apologized for the ambush, and the threatening of the cats, I apologized for the cats being so shitty, I apologized to the friends I tried to kick out, Greg and Bobby apologized for not asking if they could bring friends home for dinner, and MCCB is just a lovely patient man.

And all is forgiven with love.

Because the Crazy is always close at hand

I am sitting in my bedroom, while the rest of the family eats dinner, questioning everything about me.

I didn’t get sent to my room, but I might as well have been because no one wants to be around me at the moment.

So I am in hiding and feeling very sad about it.

I came home and before I could get my coat off, Peter is yelling at me because the cat shit in his room (again). Then the next thing I knew, I was yelling back asking if I could please take my coat off before he threatened to abuse the pets.

Then MCB came home and I was unhappy about something there too and it didn’t go to the point of yelling, but it was hard.

Then Greg and Bobby came home with a friend and I really just didn’t want company for dinner (which MCB was making) and I tried to say something and it came out all sideways.

So I gave up and came up here. And while I am sitting here in my bed on the heating pad wondering why everyone is being so selfish tonight, the voice in the very far reaches of my brain is saying, “You are the common denominator.”

In other words, tonight, I am the problem. Whether I am the one starting the shit or not, if I’m in it with everyone in the house, obviously I’m doing something wrong.

Sometimes when it’s like this if I sit quietly I can figure out why I am so sensitive or reactive. But other times, I’m too lost in the sadness to figure out what’s going on inside.

Tonight is one of those nights.

And it was a good day; it’s not like I had this horrible day and came home strung out.

So now I am embarrassed and guilt-ridden and heavy hearted and I want to be with my family but I don’t know how to make it better so I am going to sit here in the shame pit for a little while longer.