I don't know squat.

So, yesterday when driving the hell-commute home, I found out that the 6-mile road to my house was closed due to a head-on collision. Neat. That means not getting home any time in the next century. I could have stopped for a bite, or gone shopping, but no. I went to the gym. I was trying to avoid that; I even had a list of excuses in my purse. But I went. Like a good girl. I haven't been for a while, and I knew going in that my muscles would retaliate, and they did. Can't walk today. I may have gotten a little over-zealous with the squats. All 60 of them. That may not sound like a lot to you out there who are workout nazi's, but I've truly been a lazy ass this summer and haven't done SQUAT. Ha! Anyway, I have to admit it did feel good to get back into the groove, but now I have to start all over again with the can't walk up and down stairs or sit on the toilet without excruciating pain. I kept making Jim get me things last night so that I didn't have to move. You know when you feel all rubbery and shaky 2 hours after your workout, that you will have HELL TO PAY in the next couple of days. Oh well. No pain, no gain, or in my case, pain due to no brain.

Apparently I need to chill.

My husband, who thinks I'm a lunatic (but loves me anyway), says I need to stop going to all the earthquake sites and such, trying to figure out the next national disaster, but to instead relax and have a beer. You have to understand, I don't get all freaked out over this stuff, it is just interesting to me. I'm not the tweaky type. I'm what you might call an 'earthquake geek'. HOWEVER, according to my husband, I scare the shit out of everyone ELSE. OK, well, I'm freaking sorry, OK? I should have been a scientist or something. I sometimes get these emails that say something like "Oh my God! I thought I was going to see cute doggies and stuff on your site and all I got was so scared I want to cry." Weenies.

Something is wrong with me.

I know that is stating the obvious, but seriously, something is wrong with me. I have been doing nothing but SLEEPING. I go to work at 8 am, get off around 4:30, then go home and sleep until the next morning. I also sleep all weekend. WTF? I only have 1 job now; you'd THINK I would have more energy, but no. Total and complete laziness. My house is such a mess right now it makes me twitch, and I can't remember what my husband looks like. Could it be the heat? Am I depressed? I don't know. I feel like an uber-sloth. I haven't worked-out in days (that could be the problem) and I just don't feel like doing shit. I've tried to make myself do stuff, but I end up all whiney and crabby. I am going to go get some blood drawn to make sure I'm not anemic or something. Coffee isn't even working.

I'm melting.

It's too freaking HOT. It's like 100 damn degrees here today. I know some of you who live in Texas or Arizona are like, "Yeah, so", but I can't handle it much above 75. I get all dizzy and pukey. I have no pool, no air conditioning, no nothing. I have a small redneck window air conditioner in my bedroom that is sputtering because it can't handle the challenge. I'm all crabby and sweaty. The dogs wouldn't even go outside today. It's really hard to get excited about working out in weather like this. The gym has air conditioning, but just the thought of getting UP OFF THE COUCH sounds like entirely too much work. I feel like I have peed my pants, but it's not pee. YUCK.

Maggie the Statue

So, last night after coming home from work, I proceeded to join my hubby on the back porch for a nightcap. It is there where Maggie, my very strange dog, stared up at moths hitting the porch light for an hour. AN. HOUR. Without moving. Just standing there, staring UP. I tried to look at the light for about 5 seconds to try and capture the magic, but all it did was make me see spots. How could she even see anything? I kept telling her that the moths were too high, but she just ignored me. I could have been wearing a porkchop necklace and she still wouldn't have budged. It was kind of funny, though, watching her act like a statue.

I want to be sedated.

You know, the Ramones song? Yeah, I'm listening to that right now, and its true. I spent 7 hours (7 HOURS!) cleaning the carpet in my front room yesterday, and today I WANT TO BE SEDATED. I got up at 9 am. We went out for breakfast at 11 am. We came home at noon. I went back to bed. Just woke up. Shit, now I won't be able to sleep tonight. The carpet looks good, though.

I haven't posted a pic of my new SUV yet because it's always dirty (and its black), so that simply won't do. So, this is pic of me enjoying my sunroof instead.

Now I'm listening to "Creep" by Radiohead.

You're so fucking special
I wish I was special
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here
I don't belong here

Yeah, it's that kind of night.

Linkage

OK, I totally wiped out my links somehow. Whoops. I've tried to put the list back together based on who has linked me and the ones I can remember at the moment, but I'm sure the list is not complete, SO DON'T HAVE HURT FEELINGS. If you want me to link you back, and you don't see your site, just let me know.

Ding, Dong, My Dumbass Neighbors Are Gone!

They moved, they moved! You remember, the neighbors that drove me nuts? The ones that did all the breeding and were snobby and mean? They're GONE! Hooray! I probably ran them out. Now we just need some TEQUILA to celebrate, MOM.

My Mom

Hi Ma! I know you read my blog, so this entry is for you. I promise I won't use any swear words. Before I start, I want to say, "I love you!" because I do.

Thank you so very much for bringing the yummy Margarita mix and tequila to my little 4th of July party. We had a great time! Also thank you for leaving the margarita mix. However, you took the tequila home. YOU TOOK THE TEQUILA. What kind of mom are you?

Headline: "Neighborhood woman seen holding her dog at gunpoint."

At squirt-gunpoint, that is. Let me share with you how squirt-gun training has progressed with Louie. Jim was trying to get Louie to "shake" last night. He learned "shake" when he was a puppy. Louie was apparently in a pissy mood last night and was refusing to "shake" for my husband. I said, "Watch this.", then I grabbed the squirt gun, pointed it at Lou (without squirting any water) and said, "Shake!" The paw went up. I repeat: THE. PAW. WENT. UP.

Later that night, I let the dogs out potty. Louie was dawdling. I got the gun and pointed. "Potty! Now!" Sooner or later, someone is going to call someone about me, I think.

Bad Sushi

I declare now: I will never EVER eat sushi from a grocery store again. EVER. I am now recovering from what can only be called food poisoning from hell. Monday afternoon I ingested spicy tuna rolls from the grocery store deli section. A few hours after lunch, I began running to the bathroom at work, and bad things were coming out both ends. Monday Evening and all of Tuesday I continued to violently vomit and deal with the worst diarrhea known to man. I have bruises on my knees from kneeling over the porcelain. My stomach hurts and is in knots. I thought my eyeballs were going to pop OUT OF MY HEAD on several puking occasions. I am still afraid of solid foods. I am still sweating. I am still shaking. (I am having my own private earthquakes.) I have never been that sick in my whole life. It hurt BAD. I will not need an ab workout for a week or so. If I even SMELL seafood, I will hurl.

Patience?

Yeah, I don't have that. I have a story, instead. I have been pondering lately about some new ideas on how to get my dogs to listen to (and not totally ignore) me. So, I bought some squirt guns. When I say "No!" or "Stop it!", or whatever, and they DON'T LISTEN, I squirt them! Pretty soon they should be little angels, right? Well, as good as an idea that was, I did not take into consideration the personality of Louie. For the record, I have to say that it works great on Maggie.

Louie is a spiteful little fucker who uses his great intelligence to send me right over the edge.

Squirt-gun training, day 1. Louie is eating something foreign in the yard.

Me: "No!" "No, Louie!"
Louie: Continues to eat foreign object without even looking up.
Me: Squirt, squirt.
Louie: Jumps 5 feet in the air.
Me: Giggle.
Louie: Glare.
Louie: Goes back to eating foreign object.
Me: "NOOO!" Squirt, SQUIRT, SQUIRT.
Louie: Spins around to look at me again and walks away with tail between legs.
Me: I win.

Squirt-gun training, day 2. Louie is barking for no reason whatsofuckingever.

Louie: Woof! Woof! Woof!
Me: "Shut UP!"
Louie: WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!
Me: SQUIRT. "I said knock it off!"
Louie: Runs.
Louie: Pisses. Spitefully. On carpet.
Me: "OH YOU LITTLE MOTHERF......." running with squirt gun in hand cussing so much and so loud that husband is wondering if he should call my therapist.
Louie: Running faster, wagging tail.
Me: Running, tripping over things, and squirting the squirt-gun at Louie, at the furniture, at the walls, still cussing. (It's a great visual, is it not?)

Squirt-gun training, day 3. The milligrams on my anxiety meds are getting a boost.

Uno Job-O

That's right folks, I HAVE ONLY ONE JOB NOW! Last Friday was my last day at the restaurant. It feels very strange to have weekends to myself. I've worked at least 2 jobs since 1998. That was a long haul. I feel like I've retired or something.

Happy Father's Day to all you Fathers out there. I am feeling very blessed at the moment. I just had barbecued beef tenderloin with shrimp, and now I'm sitting on my back porch typing on my blog watching a beautiful sunset. My heart goes out to all the soldiers right now. Keep them in your prayers. The photo is the view from where I'm sitting in the backyard.

Shots, but not the alcoholic kind.

I have to get a gazillion SHOTS for work. Something about Blood Bourne Pathogen Training and Hep A, Hep B, Tetanus, blah, blah, blah. SHOTS. WITH NEEDLES. SHIT. I shuffle paperwork, why do I need shots? Wah.

Knock, Knock, Knock

Hello? Is there anyone there? Sorry for the lack of updates as of late. Can you say BUSY? Everything in my life is changing. New job, new hair, new vehicle. I already told you about the new job, which is still THE SHIT. I love it. I got a brand-new computer with a flat screen monitor, they fixed my farting chair, and we had "Sangria Friday", which was too fun. I also got my hair cut and colored, and I finally bought an SUV! It is a black Saturn Vue, and it's fully loaded. Leather seats, a butt-warmer, sunroof, power everything, you name it. I am giddy with glee, I tell you. I'm wondering when all the wonderfulness is going to go away. Oh, and, on top of that, we are supposed to have a wicked thunderstorm today!

The New Job

OK, sorry for not updating right away, I am trying to be a good girl with the internet. The new job ROCKS. A kitchen full of food/drink, an office full of crazy people, an easier job I than I had before, a bigger paycheck and a flex-schedule! It just doesn't get any better than that! I'm a little lonely for my old friends, but it's just a matter of time before I warm the hearts here. Ha. There are only 2 sucky things about it. My chair makes a "farting" noise every time I sit in it, and I sit in a cubicle. Not a good combo. But other than that, I'm pretty happy.

Tweaked

I'm freaking out. I can't even type anymore. In fact, I can't do anything anymore. Especially think and spell. I had to go in an extra day after my official last day at work to do some training, and THAT was the day I had the realization that I just left a job I have spent 10 years at, my comfort zone, my home, my internet play box, my JOB. I am now going into the unknown where I may have to actually BLOG AT HOME. The horror. Maybe. I have been pacing and not eating and acting like someone who is perma-caffeinated. Which is probably true anyway.

I don't know why I'm tweaking so much NOW, but I am. I have a case of the what ifs. What if I suck at my new job? What if I hate my new job? What if they hate me?

Did I not warn you?

Jobs

OK. It has been an interesting week. My boss said to me on Friday looking at my EMPTY office, "Wow. You sure are anxious to start your new job." Yes, it's true. About 5 minutes after I gave my two weeks' notice, I started cleaning out my office. Hee. A co-worker also told me I seemed "happy" and "relaxed". (As opposed to angry and stressed out.) Apparently, I was unhappy there. I thought it was going to be an emotional and stressful week, but nope. Just want to get the hell outta there. I just keep thinking about the concept of a life. and its satisfying. People keep asking me if I'm "going to the meeting", and I keep replying "Nah." Nothing has ever given me more delight.

For Mrs. Divaquest: I work for a medical device manufacturing company. I control all procedures and engineering drawings, and make sure all goings-on comply with international and FDA regulations. I also do audits. Hold back all enthusiasm. I know I do. My official title is "Regulatory Affairs Specialist", but my unofficial title is "Goddess of everything". I'm pretty much going to be doing the same thing at the new company, but for more $$ and less annoying assholes. (I've met everyone, and they are great.) I know no company is 'perfect', but seriously folks, I work at a tomb. Most people there are so boring and arrogant it makes me want to hurl.

I'm very excited to start my new job. I hear they are quite the "pranksters". I'll fit in well. It will also be exciting to have a whole new office of people I can make fun of.

Whaaa?

Somebody Googled "Captain Crunch Frappuccino recipes", and my site came up. Not only is that a tad bizarre, but CAPTAIN CRUNCH FRAPPUCCINO? Must. Find. Now.

Hell is frozen and pigs are flying.

Drumroll please...

I did it! I did it! I QUIT MY DAY JOB. I have been there for 10 WHOLE YEARS. It is the only real job I've ever had.

Out of the blue, I got a call from this really great job across the street from where I work now. I interviewed, got an offer, and took it. Lots more $$, lots more benefits, and STOCK OPTIONS. God, I feel like an adult or something. Scary. I am a little freaked out, though, this is a HUGE step for me. I will be exiting my comfort zone. I may be a little neurotic in the weeks to come. Just warning you.

I quit one of my restaurant jobs, too. I repeat, I QUIT ONE OF MY RESTAURANT JOBS. As it stands now, I will only be working a couple of hours on Friday nights at the French restaurant, just for fun. :) HOLY CRAP. A REAL LIFE. Look out, world.

I start my new job the 23rd. My old job is not happy. It will be an interesting 2 weeks. A little sad, too, I've known some of my co-workers for the entire 10 years. BUT I will just be across the street.