Interrupted

My Life Thus Far
2008-05-29 20:47:05 (UTC)

Grass and Gasoline

That's the smell I woke up to this morning. Actually, it's
pretty intoxicating. Pregnant woman (not all, but most
that I've known) love the smell of gas. Go figure,
something we should probably not enjoy so much :) Maybe
something we should even avoid, but what can you do?

I kind of want to slap a landscaper in the head right
about now. Not for waking me up with lawnmowers and weed
eaters, but for making me do the same work over and over
again. Sunday I swept and sprayed down my front walk after
I finished gardening. Then Monday morning they mowed the
front lawn and left grass all over the sidewalk I'd just
cleaned. So, yesterday I got out there and swept up the
grass they left behind. Now today they weed-eated and got
grass on the sidewalk AGAIN. So, I'll have to go out there
today and sweep AGAIN so it looks half way decent when
Helena gets here tomorrow. Would it kill them to clean up
after themselves? Or completely finish one street before
they move on to the next, so it isn't a two or three day
process, getting the lawn cut? I suppose that would be too
much to ask.

I slept pretty good last night, but I'm feeling lazy
today. I don't have anything major planned and there isn't
anything I have to do. My house is good enough for Helena.
She may have married well, but she's from a big, poor
Polish family and as far as lifestyles go, ours is much
better than she grew up with. My mother was always so anal
about the way things looked and the appearances people
displayed (especially herself). I couldn't help but pick
up some of her idiosyncrasies when it comes to that, but I
have to accept that there are a lot of flaws I see that
others either choose not to see or just can't see at all.
Basically, those stains on the playroom carpet are all in
my head. They aren't a big deal. I just cleaned that
carpet last week. Annie can clean her bathroom and since
she's the one that made that downstairs closet a mess, she
can straighten that up, too. Problem solved. Annie will be
willing to do it. She's excited about Grandma Helena
coming and will do whatever she has to so Grandma is
pleased with her. Annie has her difficulties, but she
still has the basic kid-need of wanting people to be
pleased with her. I lost that desire many, many years ago.

Sue (Snookums biological mother, not to be confused with
Helena, the lucky step-mother that married Snookums rich
dad) provided me with a good laugh yesterday, which I
forgot to share last night. Annie's birthday was Thursday
of last week. There was no sign of a gift or a card from
Sue. Which isn't strange, because she forgot Kiki's
birthday the month before. Saturday, Sue called me
inquiring as to if Annie liked her present (which is a
life-sized stuffed Spongebob. Great. Just what my house
needs. A life-sized stuffed animal). Well, Annie hadn't
gotten her gift. She didn't get it Monday, Tuesday,
Wednesday, well you get the drift. So, Sue went to the UPS
store yesterday to see why Spongebob still hadn't gotten
here, even though she'd paid for two-day shipping to get
it here on time. To make a long and winding story short
(because all of Sue's stories are long and winding), she
put the wrong zip code on the form and sent it to
MINNESOTA! How on Earth she accomplished that, I'm not
sure. Jason and I laugh about her hair-brainedness
(especially compared to how young and vital Dan and Helena
act), but I worry that someday soon, I'm going to end up
having to take care of that woman. I refuse. I wouldn't
take in my own mother, let alone Snookums hair-brained,
stuck in the 70's, know-it-all mother that wears on each
and every nerve in my body. I hope she's got good health
insurance or a nest egg, because she's going to a home.
I've got three young kids to raise and put through
college. I don't have room for her. Maybe that's harsh,
but it's the truth. I pride myself on sticking with the
truth :)

I'm feeling less lazy now, so I guess I'll get up from
here and pitter-patter around my house. Things actually
get done when I just waddle around and randomly do
something that jumps out at me. It's a sad existence, but
until the new baby gets here, I've got nothing else to do.
Ciao.




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