Come Inside My Head, if You Dare…
Please think about this!
No amount of complaining, demonstrations, protests, harassment or heckling is going to change the fact that Donald J. Trump is the 25th President of The United States.
The time for tantrum throwing and slamming social media with your self-righteous outcries, has passed. Being sore-losers is so undignified and childish. Please stop this. Accept that Hillary is not President, and move on.
♥ TTFN ♥
Well… I’m still waiting.
At first I was patiently waiting. Then I was impatiently waiting. Now, I wear earplugs and curse a lot.
When you live where people have cabins, weekends are noisy. I don’t mind that. But it’s the Monday through Friday noise that’s disrupting my mind and soul. If it’s not chain-saws, it’s hammering, men talking (or yelling), cement pumpers, power tools and large trucks. And that’s just today.
Some days (like today), when it gets really loud and goes on for an hour or more, I let Big Yellow loose. Might as well do housework, if I can’t think well enough to work on my novel. I swap out earplugs for iPod ear-buds and play soothing music to myself. Or hard-assed rock and roll, depending. Even with my ears full of music I can’t take a nap. Along with the headache, no nap makes me, shall we say “grumpy”?
And I hate it when the phone rings and it’s for hubby. This means I have to get my grubby shoes on, go out to the yard, or wherever he is, and wait for a pause in the saw, so I can get his attention and give him the handset. You won’t hear any feminine voices singing out the window – “honey, the phone’s for you”. He has very high quality earplugs that can block out everything, including wifely hollering.
There is a chance the autumn firewood cutting will stop this week. Then we should have enough stacked for the winter (please God, let 8 cords be enough!), and maybe, get some quiet around here. Until hubby and friend continue building shelves for the shop. Or whatever noise-making project they think up next.
Thank goodness NaNoWriMo does not begin until November. I want to finish the draft of the dusty novel I started in 1991, before I get involved with another one. Wish me luck on that idea – Ha!
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photo credit: premasagar via photopin cc
Forget the milk.
I spent the past week trying to get through 954 emails that had piled up in my mail box at work, during the 2 weeks I was out. I scheduled a meeting with our department’s top management to formally give them my retirement date (July 19th). Only 13 more working days to go – and I can’t stop smiling!
At home there isn’t nearly as much smiling. So much to go through and weed out – still! Haven’t I been doing this for months? Not much sorting got accomplished last week – too busy interviewing moving company’s and trying to make up my mind how much packing we could reasonably do on our own to save money.
I put our old office furniture and the rolling cabinet for the microwave up for grabs on Craig’s List. So far not many queries. I probably did it wrong (this was my maiden voyage). I may have to find a charity that will pick up furniture.
To make the week more interesting, I got a call from my doctor’s office about test results that came back “positive” – which, unfortunately, is negative news. Now I must have a more invasive test that will put me out of commission for 1.5 days to overrule or confirm the earlier test. Like I have time for this …
Surprisingly, I am not freaking out. In fact, life has been so f#$%@!g crazy around here that I’m actually looking forward to it. I will be heavily medicated for the test, and that sounds soooo wonderful to me now….
photo credit: Robert S. Donovan via photo pin cc
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