August 12, 2009

Better tUesday: Push

I am WILLING it to be Tuesday. I do not hear you on the subjects of “LATE” and “Wednesday.”
In defense of my stance that today is ABSOLUTELY Tuesday, allow me to tell you it is the first week of school here, and my husband is frolicking about in Rhode Island, eating rare Rhode Islandish delicacies like Mango Coconut Conch Fritters and drinking Papaya Hoochie Punch while basking in a hammock and watching young, trim-waisted Rhode Island girls in grass skirts sway their hips to sound of distant drums.

Scott says that he is actually working on a trade show (right) and that Rhode Island is technically NOT an island speaking geographically, and CERTAINLY not an island in the same exotic rum-rippled blue sky and sea way that, say, The Virgin Islands are islands (a likely story), But here, smack dab in what would be the MIDDLE of back to school week if it was Wednesday which, SHH, we have covered that, it is NOT, trying to single-mommedly juggle bag lunches and laundry and the demands of my own life and job, I am BEHIND.

I think I could have handled it better if it weren’t for the fact that Scott’s absence is causing RAGING INSOMNIA.

(DIGRESSION: OKAY! Yes, three portion controlled meals + two snacks = perfectly adequate fuel for a 16 or even 18 hour day. But my day is stretching to 20 or 21 hours, and I begin to be REALLY hungry. I get four or five hours past dinner, and I am ready for DINNER PART II: SON OF DINNER. I keep calling my buddy Jill and hollering, HELP! I WANT TO EAT THINGS. I WANT TO EAT THEM IN MY MOUTH.)

I am not crating the dog (so that he can protect me when evil murderers or cannibals break into the house, unless of course the evil people have brought cheese cubes, or an ear scratch, or a kind word, in which case his plan is to wag happily at them while they strangle me in my bed.)
But it makes me FEEL better to have him out, and Scott is going to come home to find a Bagel-Dog shaped, shed-fur filled, sumptuous hole in his usual place in the bed. Even with this living pillow, I AM NOT SLEEPING.

While it is true that I DO need 20 hours in the day this week, it does me no good to have the hours available if I am going to be glassy eyed and brain-dead.


In point of fact, there were no cannibals. The contact in the back door appears to be faulty. It went off again for no reason, same door, yesterday, racheting my exhausted nerves up to ELEVEN. (That’s one louder.)

It also did not help that LAST night (which coincidentally also appears to have been Monday Night since today is CLEARLY Better Tuesday) but anyway, last night, very very late, AFTER the alarm had already freaked me out again by spontaneous whonking so I had to DISABLE IT and I was alarmless and vulnerable, the dog LOST HIS MIND and started telling me, emphatically, that there WAS actually a marauding band of cannibals, in the backyard, near the VERY door that has been saying it is being broken into. He was wild-eyed and ADAMANT. The kids were in bed, it was DARK AND LATE, and I was freaked enough by this point to go and GET THE GUN I used to learn to shoot in order to write Backseat Saints.

Then I told the dog to shut his pie hole and went out in the night to kill everyone who was on my back porch.

It was a POSSUM. A huge, slavering, befanged, foul, balding, hissing possum, yes, but even that kind of possum is not a Mortal Peril situation requiring firearms. I came back in, exasperated, and while I was unloading I said so to the dog, and he said, “Marauding band of cannibals, Possum. Po-TAY-to, po-TAH-to. The important thing here is, I SAVED YOUR LIFE! May I have a whole, raw chicken?”

IN OTHER WORDS, I have not even looked at the plan for this week, and here it is, already TUESDAY! (Cough) So, my goals for this week are:

1) WORK OUT EXTRA to relieve stress.
2) Don’t eat junk food, but do eat a bunch of fruit.
3) Don’t shoot anyone or become a raging alcoholic.

If I can achieve these things, we will call this week a push.

Posted by joshilyn at August 12, 2009 7:01 AM

I'm with Bagel. A possum on the back porch is worth alarming the nearest human. Possums are SCARY. And did this possum have enough sense to PLAY possum? Nope. So it was a dumb, scary possum. I think you should give Bagel that chicken. And then go take a 20-minute power nap.

Posted by: Leslie Noon at August 12, 2009 7:23 AM

Wow, Rhode Island sure has changed since i was there.

All i remember was a bunch of Lysol-drunk homeless dudes, loud-talking college goobs with Yankee accents, and sullen-looking goth kids waiting in line to buy bowel-destroying chili-dogs from a food truck double-parked in a bombed-out downtown area of Providence.

And man. I'm not an antimarsupialist or nothin', but possums categorically suck. I am sure there are nice ones out there, but every one i've ever met looked like a frothing rabid hairy greaseball with an embarassingly naked little ratty tail. *shudder*

Posted by: Rachel at August 12, 2009 7:31 AM

Gee, I LIKE possums.

Though my perceptions of 45-min.-away RI are closer to Rachel's than to yours. I must be driving through the wrong parts.

You can eat lots of fruit, but can it be marinated in white wine first?

Posted by: Brigitte at August 12, 2009 8:09 AM

Um. I would be totally stressed out too. You need a nap and maybe a trip to Rhode Island for the drinks and sun and island breezes? I live in Virginia so I have no idea what Rhode Island is like, but your description sounds dubious :-)

Posted by: Melody at August 12, 2009 8:42 AM

Good doggie! He deserves the chicken.

Posted by: RuthWells at August 12, 2009 10:00 AM

Thank you very much for putting life into perspective. I finally have two weeks off before school starts again, and I'm paralyzed by the lack of time I think I have to shop for school, re-tool my syllabi, catch up on my hobbies and try to loose 15 pounds. :)
Thanks for the reality check. Hope Scott comes home, bearing gifts, very soon.

Posted by: JulieB at August 12, 2009 10:12 AM

I think Bagel had the right of it! Possums are vile, nasty creatures. When my brother was just a wee, squeaky-clean baby cop, his first job was small town policeman in Eastern Colorado. He got called to a house to deal with a disturbance, and it turned out to be a possum in a bathtub. Being a child of the city, he'd never seen one and had no idea what to do... so he improvised. He grabbed that sucker by the tail, it started hissing and biting and he ran out of the house -- *through* the screen door -- spinning the possum round his head like a lasso. To this day, he swears it was one of the scariest things he's faced in the line of duty.

Posted by: ellbee at August 12, 2009 10:34 AM

Dude, I don't even think they have FRUIT in Rhode Island. Okay, maybe in Newport, they might; but they certainly don't have it in Providence. Or Warwick.

Sorry about your terriblehorriblenogoodverybad week. And the possum. I say give Bagel the chicken and take a nap during the day while the kidlets are at school.

Posted by: Aimee at August 12, 2009 10:56 AM

Aimee is your smartest commenter. I TOTALLY agree.

Posted by: Jen at August 12, 2009 11:15 AM

Hey, you're good: this week's goal is to quit smoking and you've already DONE that.

Take a break, in whatever way lowers your stress. And, while Rhode Island is not far from the ocean, there is nowhere to park there, so Scott is just driving around in traffic. He is NOT having any fun, either. I'm sure of it. Also, he misses you.

Posted by: Diane (TT) at August 12, 2009 12:08 PM

I too had late night visitors. I find it distressing that I cannot remember many descriptive details to help the police beyond ... "I see them!! They're leaving! It was a car and a person with two legs." A-hem ... I know you are SHOCKED to find they are still at large in Raleigh.

However, you are STILL the better story-teller.

I think Aimee and the marinating the fruit-in-wine commenter are the best ideas!

Posted by: Mit at August 12, 2009 1:21 PM

I have a day nanny (for my kid) and I still can't do single motherhood. I tell my husband that if I had wanted to be a single mom, I NEVER WOULD HAVE GOTTEN MARRIED. Loudly. Then I threaten to make him take the kid with him next time.

That would be awesome, except for the get up and go to work thing that totally screws up my fun.

Posted by: GrandeMocha at August 12, 2009 2:36 PM

Joshilyn, I wanted to walk 1 1/2 hours today, but circumstances happened, and I had to stop at 65 minutes. Consequently I was feeling a little irritable when I sat down to see what my bloggy friends were up to. That didn't last long. I've got the giggles now. Thank you so much.

I've never been to Rhode Island either, but it sounds wonderful. I love pineapples.

Posted by: Sandra Leigh at August 12, 2009 3:00 PM

As a long-married, harried, writer, I can assure you that if a car is going to break down, the burglar alarm go off in the wee hours, scary creatures stalk your home, a teenager get arrested, the washer crap out, the dog get sick and/or die, or any other dreadful domestic disaster you can think of, it will happen when the hubby is out of town!

I love your sense of humor and enjoy this blog. Hang in there. It--sometimes--gets better.

Posted by: Karen Coombs at August 12, 2009 4:12 PM

I WISH my husband were out of town, working.
>sigh< He's home and unemployed, thus he backed the truck up to the cellar entrance, hooked chains between said truck and cellar doors and proceeded to rip that part of the house off. "Remodelling" he calls it. Has something to do with replacing some siding and painting the house. Which were prompted by replacing the front door (opposite side of the house from the cellar doors, btw). Now the house is "secured" by a wee little 79-cent deadbolt on the basement door inside.

In the meantime, I'm girding my loins for a painful visit with lots of extended family next week, in another state. By the time we get back, the wide-open cellar will be inhabited by possums or skunks or meth-addicts, because you know Someone won't have the siding finished, house painted and new cellar doors designed and built before we go away Sunday.

As a result, I have no appetite for anything but Tums this week. On the bright side, that makes the food journal logging very simple. And, I am down to a new, 10-year-low weight. I do not recommend this weight-loss method.

And did I mention? Now it's raining. Yup, right into that open cellar entrance. Maybe it'll drown the possums, skunks, and meth-addicts. Then we'll have bloated corpses to deal with when we get back. Greaaaat.

Are you a scorekeeper, Miss Joshilyn? If so, how many of those 50,000 bonus points Scott won for his eyebrows comment has he squandered thusfar on hammocks & booze??

Posted by: Lulu at August 12, 2009 6:32 PM

I think you, dealing with a losing-his-mind dog, a nasty possum, AND a malfunctioning alarm system, are a TOTAL HERO WOMAN. Seriously, SO VERY COOL, with your loading and unloading your fire arm.

Posted by: Kira at August 13, 2009 10:35 PM

I second Kira - the whole "go get the gun" is cool and quite heroic!

I know a man in Georgia and his wife is what we Northerners picture when you say "Southern Belle" - petite, blond, pretty. He told me once that when he travels for work (which is often) he leaves her with a loaded shot gun and says "call me if you have to reload."

Your goals for the week are quite admirable considering your circumstances!

Posted by: JenniferG at August 14, 2009 8:55 AM

I hate the husband-out-of-town insomnia! I keep a large kitchen knife under my husband's pillow when he's out of town to keep scary marauding murderers at bay. But I always forget to put it back when he gets home. So, he's found a 7 inch kitchen knife under his pillow on more than one occasion. We don't own a gun. Being the daughter and sister of lifetime members of the NRA, I'm all about my right to bear arms, but did I mention I forget to do things like put large kitchen knives back where they belong, AND I have three small children? Enough said.

Posted by: Lori B. at August 17, 2009 12:15 AM