SOMETIMES I HATE MY LIFE

Sometimes I hate my life. 

This weekend -- gorgeous weather.  I get to enjoy some of it Saturday when I go galumphing about with my youngest through the back roads of Framingham, and also when I take myself out to socialize at two wine tastings.  (Truly it's more about practicing talking to strangers than it is about the wine.  Okay, so it's all about the wine, but I am expanding my social skills at least until they dissolve into a full goblet.)

Sunday, though, if only I didn't have so much to do.  I fall asleep at the table both Friday and Saturday nights correcting papers.  Grades close this weekend, and I have to get so much done.  In addition to closing grades, I have to write a paper for my class, and this isn't any ordinary paper; it's another stupid, unclear, graded, semi-coherent assignment for a class I'll probably never really use. 

In other words, Sunday is completely wasted on frivolous, useless, meaningless, boring bull-tickey.

This is how bad Sunday is: I am sitting less than two feet from the television near my computer, and I've barely seen any of the game.  Not that it matters too much since I doubt Washington will catch up, but that's not the point.

I am missing being a spectator at a judo tournament.  I am missing a family dinner at my daughter's in-laws' house.  I am missing a chance to call a pal and go grocery shopping together so we can make fun of people and run them down with our shopping carts.  I still don't get my filthy house cleaned.  I still have to get the air conditioners out of the windows (an absolute MUST today).

I do get the grades done and sent.  I do get the paper done and submitted.  I'm done, right?  I'm all caught up, right?  Nope.  Shitolsky.  I forgot about the 30+ pages of reading I have to accomplish this evening.

Yup, even you can see it now, can't you.  My life sucks right now.  Sometime I hate my life.  Luckily, there's wine.

TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE

My son wants to go car shopping.  The advantage to this is that he wants to go car shopping in Framingham, my old hometown.  I was born here, and this is where my first house still stands at the apex of Irene and Eisenhower Roads, just down the hill from the Garden in the Woods (where I was thrown out at age four for climbing a small tree).

We pass Shopper's World, which in its heyday was the be-all-end-all in luxury and convenience shopping.  It had stores and kids' rides and fountains that shot into the sky and changed colors.  But, like its twisted cousin Pleasure Island in Wakefield, it now only exists in people's memories.  Alas, Shopper's World is nothing more than a glorified strip mall now.

We also pass my sisters' school, causing me to randomly and rapidly turn into the parking lot by entering the "exit only" driveway.  The school, sadly, has changed very little in six decades (or whenever it was built), and, compared to the modern, flashy elementary school down the road, Hemenway School appears to be caught in a time warp.  I snap a couple of photos and continue down the road.

I have my son put the house address in as Irene Road, and the GPS brings us in the back way along the park, where I climbed the slide and panicked when shimmying over the high edge to go down the pole instead.  I remember that fear right now as I did when I was young and pulled the stunt, thinking I could be as daring as the cooler, older kids.  I was so wrong.  The slide is gone now, but the swing set is still there. 

The house itself was remodeled years ago.  I know this because I came by a couple of times when the same kiddo I'm with today played summer lacrosse at nearby Lincoln-Sudbury High School.  It's still strange to come by and see the backyard without its fence, without the swing set, and without the playhouse my father built for my sisters and me.

In the end, we don't buy the car my son went to see, but I get to drag him on a field trip down memory lane, and we do take a lovely ride through Sudbury and Wayland and Weston in our quest back to the highway.  Although I complain about fall hanging around too long, the mild temperature and the still-glorious foliage make for a pleasant ride and some new memories to cap the old.

SAVE MY NOSTRILS

Yesterday I wrote about being exhausted.  Today I am suffering through a lot of pressure in my sinuses.  Why is this happening to me?

Autumn. Yes, that's it -- autumn.

For some reason, autumn is taking its time this year, and, not that I mind really, but the trees should be done.  The leaves should be down, raked, and put away somewhere. 

But still.  It's beautiful.

 This is one of the longest fall seasons that I can remember in many years, and it's gorgeous with the sudden pops of color along the road this late in the season.  Just when I think the trees are bare, I round a corner and .. BOOM .. magnificent color.

And yet, part of me is done.  Part of me wants snow to come in and save my sinuses.  The longer the trees keep going, the longer the pollen/ragweed hangs around.  It's hilarious when I start sneezing uncontrollably and with such force that even the students are scared of me.  Perhaps my brains will shoot out of my nose one of these times and really give them all a thrill.

Come on, snow -- Save my nostrils and my eyes and my ears and my head.  I'm so ready.

EXHAUSTED

Good morning.

I am officially taking today off from mentally engaging in any topics too stressful to write about in this blog.  I am finally, after 1,100+ blog days, exhausted both mentally and physically. 

So, today I am posting pictures of adoptable pets.  It would be nice to adopt one myself, but I don't have permission.  My old cat that dropped dead a few summers ago was grandfathered in to the apartment/lease, but now ... NO.  Just no.

But, YOU could adopt these lovelies.  Yes, yes you could.  Share the love since I cannot, and share some energy since I have none anymore.  Maybe in a week.  Possibly two.  But, right now, my brain and heart and mind are all shut down for the weekend, closing a little early for recharge and rewiring. 

Besides, senior cat adoption fees are waived this weekend, so GO FOR IT.  You know you want to -- Do it for me.

WHY, YES, I AM SICK OF POLITICAL ADS ALREADY. WHY DO YOU ASK?

I'm going to be honest: I don't get it.  I don't.  I do not understand.

I do not understand how a capitalist democracy, a republic of freedom that once was the United States, is even allowing the world "socialism" to enter its vernacular.

What ... the ... fuck.

If you're a socialist, go to a socialist country.  Go live in Canada or Finland or China. Those are lovely socialist countries.  We are not socialists here.  We are a republic of liberty, or were until Congress and some citizens started voting themselves money from the treasury or sold their voting rights to corporations and banking institutions.

Let's talk about this pseudo-monarchy.  How about the king and his lords of Congress?  (Not just this king, either.)  I don't understand it.  Where is the outrage?  Congress members are getting paid more than enough to pay for their own offices, cars, meals, and air fare.  It's part of the job.  Why are we footing those bills, too?  And their healthcare.  And, good god, their retirement plan, their office redecorating, their clothing, their staff, their parties, their champagne, their damn skivvies and the cleaning costs to get the brown out of them.  How about if the queen, like the recent queens before her, buys her own clothes like the rest of us.  Would that be so fucking much to ask?  We pay enough for her massive security detail -- I'm sure she can get to the mall without being shot.

What the fuck.

Where?  Where is the outrage?

What has happened to my country when the choices for president are murderers, liars, tax cheats, socialists, and people who believe Michael Brown and Brucelyn Jenner are heroes?

I don't want a Democrat in office.  I don't want a Republican in office.  I don't want an Independent, Libertarian, Green Party, Peace Party, Tiger Lily Party, Orgami Party, or any of the other charlatan groups out there waving their banners across this once-great country.  I want someone who believes in America and who believes in Americans and who isn't terrified to say "DEMOCRACY" without having a race card or a gender card or an entire deck of "politically correct" bullshit cards thrown down.

Socialism?  Really?  What are we -- the fucking Bolsheviks?

Wake up, people.  This country has flushed itself down the crapper.  Yes, I am already sick of political commercials.  One more year of this?  This country is going to implode.

PLACHAFLASS SYNDROME

Ugh.

No school for the kiddos today because it's Election Day.  Guess what!  The town where I live and the town where I work?  NO ELECTIONS TODAY.  NONE.

No, instead it's Professional Development Day!  Yup, that and I have a class tonight to attend, which equals: Three hour meeting this morning.  Three hour meeting this afternoon,  Three hour class tonight.

I now officially have Plastic Chair Flat-Ass Syndrome.  (aka: PlaChaFlass)

The worst of it is that I know from the start that it is going to be a shit-on-me day when the first thing I see on my way to work this morning is a big dog all hunched up and planting a giant turd on the side of the road.

Yessiree, it's going to be a Dog Doo Day.

BRING ON THE LIGHT THERAPY

How great is it to see sunlight and blue skies this morning?  Finally, driving to work and it’s not pitch-black dark outside.  It’s a fantastic feeling. 

Oh, wait.  Shit, no, it’s not.  You see, now that it’s light out early in the morning, the road construction crew is already blocking my access to work.  Crap.  I wish it were still dark out so I could have the open road to myself.

Okay, so this afternoon, when I get out of work, I have to run to the grocery store to get some stuff that I need and to make an oriental-inspired slaw for the staff lunch we’re having tomorrow.  I’m only in the store for about forty minutes.  When I arrive in the parking lot, the sun is slanted in the sky but still shining. 

When I exit the store, the sun is well into its setting phase.  Shit.  Damnit.  By the time I finish unpacking the bags at home, they sky darkens to the point where I’ll need the patio lights on to see the recycle bins for the rinsed-out cans from making dinner.  It’s dark by 5:30.  It has been a beautiful day … and I basically missed it.

I forgot what season it truly is:  Seasonal Affective Disorder Season!  Bring on the light therapy; I think I’m going to need it.