It's Not What You Think

It's worse.

I'm way too busy for a person who likes to be...not busy. Non busy? Un-busy? Whatever. The fact remains that my schedule looks like I've taken a bunch of other people's lives, chopped them up into irregular pieces, tossed them at a calender, and then hoped for the best.

Actually, that sounds like something I could handle. Right now I'm toeing the line between not knowing what day it is and wanting to murder some tourons (tourists+morons=tourons.)

So far I've managed to come out victorious in my battle against giving into said temptations that would land me in the poky. I do this by rewarding myself with Yoohoos and dill pickle chips. I might have to step it up to ICEEs though for the rest of this weekend. Memorial Day brings all kinds of folks out of the American wood works.

I might get more sleep in the slammer...

I've had a little time to write; cue my WIP ADHD and you have no progress on the WIP I should be working on. *looks fretfully at Word document*

But that's okay. Summer has only just started even though it feels like I've been out for a month. Oh wait. I have almost been out for a month. Weird. Anyway, I've been in a sort of time stasis because of my brother's high school graduation, my jobs (I have three now, woohoo!), and the fact that summer classes start on the 30th of this month.

At least my sister is turning 16 in a few weeks. That way I won't have to be her chauffeur the rest of my "break." Somewhere amidst those various activities, I'm going to have to schedule in some time to write. My typing fingers are getting anxious.

I feel like this post doesn't really have a point except to confirm the fact that I'm still alive and kicking. Don't worry, I haven't actually kicked anyone in a while. Mostly I just swing one leg back and forth as I'm leaning against the counter at work (and trying not to snap that last thread holding my sanity in check whenever someone asks me, "Do the restaurant beepers work in here?" or "I'd like to see that purse." *points to the purse on the top shelf so I have to go find the step ladder in the furthest corner of the stockroom and then after having me take all the stuffing out of the purse decides she doesn't like it because the inside isn't 'pink enough'*)

And I'm not bitter at all. Really. *eye twitch* I just have allergies.

To tourons.

So...how's it going in the blog world y'all?
 

Another Rainy Day

Image via WikipediaSince I live in one of the rainiest cities in the United States, I've come to expect random rainstorms. I even think that I can feel them in my bones. It helps that I have arthritis and my joints get all sticky when the weather changes. Yes, arthritis does have its uses. Aren't you jealous?

Also, I'm like a portable weather vane. My hair tells me which way the wind is blowing. In my face, away from my face, up, sideways, or my personal favorite, the mini-cyclone.

The wind is like my own personal hairstylist. I think that I have a perfectly good hairstyle going, but obviously, I'm horribly wrong and the wind will fix it for me, thus saving me from my former hair catastrophe. Isn't that sweet?

As to the rain, I have learned to carry an umbrella with me at all times, regardless of the actual forecast. Those weather people are wrong about 50 percent of the time, and I've gotten soaked enough on a supposedly sunny day to know better.

Take today for example. It was forecast to be a 70 percent chance of rain, so the odds are against it being dry today, but when I left my room this morning, there was barely a cloud in the sky. I wasn't fooled though. I knew those storm clouds were only playing hide-and-seek with me without telling me, so I lugged around my ginormous black umbrella to class. It didn't rain. Crisis averted.

Then, I decided that I would have lunch after all, and went for my leisurely walk to the dining hall only 100 yards from my room. The trip took only about 20 minutes, but by the time I had scavenged up a meal and some coffee, the sky was dark and pouring like the flood.

I heaved a large sigh, scrounged around in my recycled-plastic (waterproof!) purse and found my spare umbrella. It's a tiny lime green thing and it barely covers my head. I mainly carry it as a token against rain, but today it decided to take the day off or something. I still don't know how I managed to carry my food, the large white chocolate mocha, and maintain the umbrella over my head in the whipping rain and wind, but 100 wet yards later, I was locked back in my room.

How's that for survival? Yes, I know I'm beast at thwarting the weather. But someone has to do it.

Until next time...stay dry and carry a big umbrella!