Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Being bad -

I like the idea of being (kind of) bad.  I have just enough anger in me to be healthy and I like to channel that anger. As you may remember I participate in "angry exercise."  Which -- is. awesome.  And thank goodness I have my own private treadmill to be angry on.

I also have a list of other things I like to do to be bad (lady-like Tired Girl versions - get ready for milk and cookies badness).
I wish this was true.

The first thing I like to do is NOT brush each strand of hair before I roll it up on a  hot roller. Yeah, take that world - I  WILL roll my un-brushed hair!  Fist in the air! 

I do that, but that is not what I mean. Here are ways I enjoy being bad:

I like (LOVE) to cuss. I love to cuss about unimportant shit.  See?  I love music with cussing. I like movies with cussing.  It feels like a release. It feels fucking awesome. Being a lady though I try to keep my bad words to the right audience and even then to minimum.

This is a great fucking song, though - don't watch it at work. The chorus is... "Shut the fuck up."  So obviously it's awesome.  A good one to listen to on the way to work or divorce court or whatever sucks. 


I also like to pretend I smoke. Joe hates smoking more than things he probably should hate. Also smoking is disgusting and terrible for like 10 different reasons.  But I like to think to myself during a particularly stressful moment - "If I smoked I would totally have a cigarette right now."  

Being bad at laundry and good at cooking feels like the right breakdown of tasks.  I am too "interesting" to master folding laundry (Joe wishes I was a tad less interesting probably).  But I'm badass enough to whip up something for dinner that happens to be delicious. These things may or may not be accurate, but I like to think of them this way.

Sometimes I like to be secretive. No good/bad secrets, just fun to have projects and ideas going that are just for me. Joe knows if I call him at work and ask where the allen wrenches are, or if we own an electric sander, or what is the process for patenting something, or if he has access to a projector, or if he can think of a name for a particular concept without asking any questions, he just goes with it. 

I like the idea of going way fast in a Porsche. I always say (mostly to just Joe - what a lucky guy) that if things go really right for us financially I would like a Porsche please. Joe knows which one I want. Carrerra Convertible (have to have the wind in my hair) I will need to learn to drive a stick shift, but I have the feeling that is the easier part of this fantasy.

And because I like to be a little secretive I won't share the other ways I like to be (kind of) bad. 

I am pretty sure my idea of being bad is like Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor in "Stir Crazy." One of my all time favorite fucking movies (you didn't forget I like to cuss, right). Gene Wilder plays a playwright and he has to "get bad."

I would really like to know how other Tired Girls like to be bad in their own way. Maybe it will give me new ideas to add to me vanilla flavored badness repertoire.  

Sunday, November 16, 2014

A wife -

I hate when politicians tell us what we need to fix. I KNOW what needs fixing - the point is how are YOU the politician, running for office, going to fix it?   So that being said I am about to tell you what needs fixing without a plan as to how to solve it.

I need a wife. A 1950's, stay at home wife. Not Betty Draper for sure, but more Donna Reed. In truth I need a maid that REALLY loves me and wants to take care of me.  Joe needs this wife too. 
I already have enough of both the Drapers in my personality.

What I need more of in my home is Anna from Downton Abbey.
Do my hair

Put my gloves on me.

Do things to the back of dresses.
I assume Joe needs all of these things done too
 - except with boy clothes obviously.
Today I went to Target to pick up a prescription and returned without the prescription, for losery reasons I won't go in to.  Clearly I need help.

An answer to all of this is to: wake up earlier, to get more done.  Hooray!! 

I don't know Dr. SunWolf, but I like her.

Any day now I will revisit 5:30 am, like I used to.

If you have never read the blog "Hyperbole and A Half"  then go ahead and kiss some time away. I try not to read other people's hilarious and fantastic blogs, so I don't accidentally steal their ideas.  But,  I read this post "Why I will never be an adult" and I think about it all the time.  It is just wonderful.  My favorite is:   

Hyperbole and Half

 More evidence why I need a loving maid/wife person.

If I don't know whats what then how is Joe supposed to save me.
This is my office/workout room/storage/laundry room.
 Please ignore my cords in every direction - just temporary (probably).

I needed the laundry basket these clean sheets were in and ... this happened.

And help!

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

A dog hobby -

The goal of my life, as you may know, is to rest and be productive and have fun.  Tonight as I sat down to post to this blog, my sweet baby dog nuzzled up onto me - we call it "pit time" because he curls up in to our armpits.  It's fantastic. 

Tonight as I type around a dog head on my chest I am happy to report that as many things as I suck at (generally being an adult) I am good at being a Tired Girl (half-hearted whooppee). 

My healthy and mostly good tasting dinner was whipped up, eaten up, and cleaned up in record time, leaving the evening ahead of me to be laid on by furry dogs, talked to by less furry husbands, and glowed on by television sets.

Is my house clean? Sort of. Laundry folded? No. Other stuff that needs to be done? Always - oh my God always! But as a Tired Girl I have mastered letting some things go. 
The view when he hunkered down and I could breathe
and move better, but had less sweet dog face laying on my neck.

This dog therapy is powerful. Hearing little puffs of air from his rear, that will soon be followed by the worst stink, is totally worth it (mostly). When he relaxes, he toots. Its quite a personality trait. 

What activity do you work hard to get to in the evening?  What inspires your Tired Girl toosh to get moving? 

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Quitting -

What if you want to stop doing something kind of big?  Like doing the job you do. Being married or single. Living where you live. Working out at your gym.  One of my fears - that I have discussed on my #Thank you Hormones posts (the one dated 12/19/2013) - is that I won't know when to quit trying to have a baby. 

It is a concept I have discussed with my talk therapist.  (If you call it "talk therapy" and not just plain old therapy it seems soooo much better. Right?  Right?)

I told her I didn't know when to quit. I didn't want to give up too soon.  Basically this was her response - paraphrased.  
This feels right.

You have tried a lot of things to get pregnant for about seven years.  If you stop trying to do that at any point you are not quitting.  You just aren't going to do that any more. If you tried for a few months and stopped then that would be quitting. When you do something for a long time and you don't want to do it anymore it's not quitting - it's just not doing that anymore.

This may sound like semantics, but I don't care - I'll take it. 

I love this.  

No more quitting - just "I'm not going to do that anymore."  

One of my favorite sayings from my favorite poet/artist - Brian Andreas. My mom got me this when I decided to "no longer work" at one of the jobs I had early on.  Thanks Mom.

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