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Cicada belts and Butter whines

 

I had the Happy Day’s theme song playing in my head this morning – not for any nostalgic reasons – and I re-worked the lyrics to a little something like this:

“One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock F@&%!”

The first time I was summoned from sleep by my whining manatee was one a.m. precisely.

I slowly peeled my eyes open to the dim sight of Butters a mere inch away from my head.

She’s pretty patient when it comes to waiting for me to struggle out of bed and shuffle towards the front door.

Pretty patient for such a whining, antsy, slumber saboteur.

At the door I heard the most annoying noise.

Loud – squealing – chirping.

I’m trying NOT to wake up completely, so I’m only using a portion of my faculties on purpose – I did manage to wonder if maybe a cicada was right outside?

Did I want it inside? No.

Did I have the energy to care? No.

Then I thought it sounded like a small car malfunctioning fan belt.

Did I want a small car inside? No.

Did I have the energy to care? No.

Out the dog went without the introduction of either cicada, or small car into my humble abode.

Back to bed I went, without any concern for the open front door.

Next time I’ll just hang little welcome signs up for any scorpions or sun spiders and any other nocturnal creepy crawly hard shelled nightmares.

 

Ooo! Here we have a sun spider actually eating a cicada.

Ooo! Here we have a sun spider actually eating a cicada.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As far as I know, the only creature that entered the house after I stomped back to my bed was of the 4 legged variety.

I know this because approximately an hour later, said 4 legged creature wanted back outside.

1. Whine.

2. Stare.

3. Come within inch of human.

4. Whine again.

5. Repeat.

Almost e v e r y hour on the hour.

This morning – as Butters somehow managed her 5:30 a.m. wake up call after her restless night, I discovered the source of both the noise, and what must have bugging my insomni-pup.

The neighbors.

Not directly them this time – but their air conditioning unit.

As I stood on the porch with my coffee I heard the screech and whine of a slipping belt coming from it.

Wonderful.

I hope it doesn’t break completely – as the Fonz and I wouldn’t want them not being ‘cool’.

Correction!: Okay, OKAY!!!  As a testament to how tired I am – I will tell you that I only NOW realized, after publishing,  that the song in my head was not the Happy Days theme song at all – but this one.  Jeez.

I’m not changing it though – because then I’ll lose my whole Fonz/Cool thing.  Ayyyy!

I need sleep.

 

 

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Musings from the Laundromat: Last muse of the Year

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If I were ever going to be the person that wore their pajamas out in public, it would have been today.  But I’m not and I didn’t.

Tossed and turned last night, with my tossing and turning only to be interrupted by brief and very odd, commercial length dreams.  “This night of restlessness sponsored by ‘REM’.”

In between coughing and telling Butters to go lay down, I found myself helping someone find their small silver dog  and sitting in on a table reading for a radio spot??

I’m not even going to bother trying to interpret those.

I’ve been awake (and I use that term loosely) for less than an hour and am now at my table after filling 3 washing machines.

I wanted to get here as early as possible so that I can go home and rest!

I’m still sick.

I tried to cheer myself up after it was clear I had to actually put clothes on this morning and announced to the dog “I’ll wear my pink underwear today!”

She didn’t much care – but I guess I thought a punch of secret color would put a little pep in my dragging step.

It hasn’t.

I’m pretty sure I look like a homeless person right now.  A sick homeless person.

It hasn’t frightened anyone off so far though – in fact, two people struck up conversations with me while I was stuffing the machines with my offerings.

I should have coughed more.

That’s how I know (other than the uncontrollable coughing and general apathy) that I’m under the weather.

Any other day those people would have ended up in my blog – after I chatted their ears off and found out where they were from and what they did and who they loved and …. well – I suppose they’ve ended up in my blog anyway.

Let’s go back to before I got here.

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Yeah – like that.  Only, it was one 18 year-old child and I didn’t have my fun pink underwear on yet.

My son stood outside my bathroom, “Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“When are you going to do laundry?”

“Half an hour – why?”

Now, I was seriously thinking that because he was up so early maybe he had contracted my bug, OR, actually wanted to come with me.

No.

“Can you wake me up when you get back?”

really

Sigh.

He retreated to his wing of the house and I brushed my teeth and stepped on the scale.

Tangent.

I’m thin.  I lost weight sensibly and over time and when I quit drinking, the rest of the weight slid off.

I did notice in one of the photos I had taken with Lisa however, that I looked too thin.

I brought it up to my mom yesterday who mentioned that she had been noticing and when my ‘skinny’ jeans are baggy it might mean I have lost too much weight.

They are baggy.

I eat!  I do!  I love food!

I think the method I used for losing the weight has stuck with me though.  I only eat when I’m hungry.  I don’t believe in Breakfast ‘time’, lunch ‘time’, dinner ‘time’ – I eat whenever I want and stop when I’m full.

Sometimes I eat like a hobbit and have second or third breakfasts – sometimes I only want my lunch all day.  I listen to my body.

Pretty simple.

But yesterday I forced a meal down because I don’t want my skinny jeans to be baggy.

So I’m on the scale – and I’ve lost 2 pounds.  I don’t know where they went!  I’ve been stuffing my face with holiday food – I’ve had two friends take me to lunch (Thank you Ruth and Lisa) and been digging in to the sweets that were in my Christmas stocking.

Seriously – how am I now 5’9 (and a half) and 125 lbs?!

It bothers me.

I do not have an eating disorder, but the thought of eating just for the sake of gaining weight – of forcing food down that I am not hungry for … is repulsive to me.  (Says the girl who ordered Foie Gras)

Food should be savored – appreciated – enjoyed!

I would say I’ll snack more – but I already do that!

During the week I constantly have food in my mouth – it’s become an office joke.

Anyway – so I need to gain weight.

Back to Nic and the fact that he was not offering to come to the laundromat with me.

I got a Barnes and Noble gift card for Christmas – and I think one of the books that I am going to have to buy is “The Little Red Hen”.  I think that book should be mandatory reading for everyone. Period.

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If you don’t contribute, you don’t get to enjoy the outcome.

You want to enjoy living in a clean house?  Help clean it.  You want clean clothes to wear?  Help clean them.  You want a happy life?  Put positive things into it.

Which, brings me to one of the things I plan on ‘resolving’ to do for the New Year.

Less bitching.

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I’m going to find my positive energy again.  The power of positivity juxtaposed with my inability to edit myself may prove to be a problem, but I don’t expect results over night.

Perhaps if I constantly have food in my mouth, I won’t be able to gripe?  Two birds, one stone.