Doesn't matter any more

I have decided, after little deliberation, that I could be one of those people perfectly content without gainful employment. I am admitting that I could retire now with no regrets. In reality, however, I may regret not being able to afford luxuries such as food, medicine and shelter.

The last week drug by at a pace I can only liken to the same speed at which my brother ties his shoes. So mind-numbingly slow that you just want to scream, "Stop! Buy slip ons. Try Velcro. Go barefoot. Whatever it takes to end this agony."

It's Saturday and after a frustrating Friday of employment, I vowed not to leave the house. Cynical tempted me with trips to the Y, the library and the recycling center, none of which were enough to pull me out the door. I just needed some time to diffuse, time without human interaction. I did venture out for some house hunting, as it seems that with the unseasonably warm weather, we are even more hungry to move.

We identified some great neighborhoods and found a house that we deemed "ours", if only it was for sale. I wanted Cynical to slow the car and let me shout, "Get out of our house", but he sped up fearing an arrest might blemish my otherwise perfect record.

Oh, and since soon McRib will be ripped yet again from our lives, Cynical and I made a stop so he could have one last chance at one. . . until once again, McDonalds announces "McRib is back!" and Cynical calls from his cell phone near tears.

My day, however, was productive. It's amazing how much energy you can derive from frustration. The abode is clean. Our clothes are folded AND put away, not tossed about in baskets scattered throughout the house. I finally managed to photograph some of my finished objects. Lonely CDs were reunited happily with their cases. (I just read that paragraph and it makes me feel old, boring and a little school marmish.)

And we discovered XM Radio on our television satellite service. I can't decide if I am thrilled at the find; or embarrassed that we had actually considered buying a home and car unit. Whew! (Cynical insists he knew all along. I must have forgotten this little fact.)

So, now we sit, Cynical is reviewing his checkbook for about the tenth time today. The cats are lazing about. John Cougar Mellencamp is playing on XM and I am about to start the shaping decreases in Green Gable now dubbed: that brown sweater I keep lugging around.

R.O.C.K. in the USA to ya.

Izzie us not pleased that I decided to take advantage of the good lighting in our living room this afternoon and stuck the camera in her face.