Thursday, September 16, 2010

Day 8838

Day 8838 of my life is about to end. Yes, I just added up the days of my life. I have no job. Sue me.

I live in San Angelo on an Air Force base (temporarily) while my husband finishes up tech school for the Air National Guard. Then we'll move back to Houston.

You know, looking at how many days I've lived is somewhat comforting. I can think of days where I wasn't sure if I would live another day. I would always randomly think (in newspaper headlines, of course, because apparently my death would warrant a headline), DEAD AT [whatever age I currently was]! GIRL FOUND IN OWN EXCREMENT!
(Ahhhh, nothing like a poop joke right off the bat!)

Some people are afraid of poop jokes. I've never had that issue, unfortunately for the four people who will read this....... Okay, maybe I do have that issue, cause I wanted to go take it off. I won't, though. (You're welcome.) These blogs do make you feel horribly exposed, though. Nobody look at me!

I don't have a plan or intention in mind with this blog. It sounded like fun and maybe a good way to stay in touch with my homies in Houston. (What up, y'all??) I was talked into it by a couple of friends. For some weird reason, they WANT to hear what goes through my mind. . . . Strange.

I'm sitting at my computer staring off into space. This blog will take me two hours to write. Luckily, I have two hours to spare.

I did NOTHING today. I seesaw back and forth between morose apathy and languid bliss. Not having a job is hard work!

I really SHOULD get a job. I don't have kids or a stay at home job or a reason to not have a job. When I first moved to San Angelo, I was unpacking everything I planned on using, and cleaning and organizing and cooking. So I felt like maybe I didn't need one, plus I've had a rough year.....

HOWEVER, I am well aware that an idle mind can be a breeding ground for anxiety. Not having something to do doesn't suit me at all. Being alone doesn't suit me at all..... Why, then, (you ask) would you move somewhere you have no friends, no family, no job, no familiarity, horrible cell phone service, and a barely functioning computer?

Because I'm in love with my husband and my God, and my God cleared the way.

Even now, he takes care of me. He watches out for me. He understands my need to just BE and provides for me, even when I crunch the numbers and say to Robert, "Yep, we ain't gonna make it this month." Money unexpectedly appears, or something doesn't go through or gets pushed back to when I DO have extra money and it's taken care of. Amazing.

On another note, I made the most terrible lobster bisque in my life today. It tasted like cream of crap. VERY appetizing. Even I couldn't eat it, and I've eaten some questionable things in my 8838 days.

I dropped Robert off for class at 2:45 pm (they can't be dropped off at their class, they have to form up outside of the dorms and wait in the 100+ degree heat for about 20 minutes while roll is called. If they are absent from formation, they get in BIG BIG BIG trouble), then ran to the commissary (on-base grocery store) for kitty litter and ice (not to be used together, though).

Then I came home and continued my Girls Next Door marathon. I like watching TV shows and movies with commentary. You always get way more trivia that way.

An hour and a half later, I realized that I needed to start dinner. (Robert goes to class from 3 pm to midnight, but he has to eat dinner at 5:30 pm. Somebody PLEASE tell me how this makes any kind of sense???)

I decided to try this new lobster bisque recipe........
We all know how that turned out.

I don't even know how I can salvage it. It honestly tastes like I just mixed cream and sherry together and served it warm. Sick.

Can't toss it, though. I spent money to make that crap and by God, it WILL BE SALVAGED!

So Robert came home and tried his best to eat it. I kept saying, "It's horrible, I know. Don't even try to eat it." He didn't comment on it (smart, smart man!), but he stopped halfway through and filled up on cheese garlic biscuits. He went back to class (after grabbing like a million snacks) and I sat down and read my best friends' blogs. I like to feel like I'm still in the loop. (If the loop extended 500 miles wide.)

San Angelo is honestly not as bad as I thought it would be. It's not Houston, by any means, but it's not Podunk, TX either. They have a Chick-fil-a and for that, they have been spared.

I'm sick of unpacking. If I'm only going to be here for a few months, what's the point? Then I think, ooooh, I'd like to read THIS book. And I have to go digging through boxes to find it. And since the box is open I might as well unpack it...... Stupid book fetish.

I'm tired of writing. I'm going to go watch Girls Next Door, Season 4!!! And maybe try to salvage the bisque.
Or maybe I'll just stick it in the fridge and forget about it. That's always a good plan....

Good night, all who read this blog. And I'm sorry to have subjected you to it. (But not really.)

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