My AH-Mazing FL Trip - Part 1 (aka...the first 24hrs)

Life is crazy sometimes.  My life, well it is crazy all the time.  There are 24hrs in a day...7 days in a week and 365 days in a year...all of them, for me...for the most part are C-R-A-Z-Y!  Not "crazy busy" or "crazy hectic" but "holy shit is this really happening right now" kind of craziness.

So what is one to do when life is just coming down on ya and you need to get your bearings??  Well, if you're me...you plan a trip back home.  I had gone back and forth with the idea for awhile but then the opportunity presented itself along with free lodging and a LONG break from the new job (God bless you Louisiana and your Mardi Gras lovin self) so it was time to hit the road, literally, and make the drive down to my hometown of Clearwater, FL.

"Who packs the night before and forgets their friggin camera???"

It was positively CornMaizing....

I've lived here in Louisiana for a little over 7 years now.  In all that time, although I've been invited and heard it mentioned every year about this time, I had never made it out to the Hickory Corn Maze.  I can now not only check that off my list, but also check off conquering my fear of evil eyed children coming out of the rows of corn in order to kill me with sickles (thank you Children of the Corn).

I don't know that I was actually invited along this time.  Hannah was for sure invited, I think I then invited myself when I heard that my friend was insane enough to not only let my daughter come but also allow each of her other two children have a friend thus making the ratio 6 to 1.  Thus putting my friend at horrendous odds.  She obliged whether it be for the company or for safety reasons.

We made the ride out to the maze and along the way realized that we better stop to get flashlights lest we lead 6 kids (two of which are 5 yr olds) into a dark cornfield.  Sadly this thought didn't occur to us while we were at home and could take the flashlights that we own and would cost us NOTHING.  Nope.  We were two complete and total jackasses and made it almost 1/2 way there before making this stunning realization...it was almost 5p, it gets dark around 5:15p...we will be traipsing through a darkened maze....nah, we don't need lights!

We pulled into a Dollar General and made a beeline (after getting mumbled directions) to the "hardwares section".  Section, to me, would denote that this was an area...in reality it was maybe half an aisle long.  There sat our gleaming torches for just $1 a piece.  We snagged 4 for the group then headed to the front to grab batteries. 

My friend may have rationalized that we needed these flashlights for "safety" reasons like tripping or falling, but me?  I saw things in a different light, per say.  Maybe no one else cared about being in the dark and spooky cornfield but I know for a fact that I had to fight the urge to buy 5 flashlights, just for myself, and a role of duct tape.  NO the duct tape was not for the childrens mouths although in retrospect that would have been an amazing idea for the 5yr olds...it would have been to secure 3 of the 5 flashlights to the following areas, one on each foot and one to my head like those coal miner hard hats.  Then of course the other two would have been for my hands.  Did I mention my huge slight phobia of corn fields and the demonic children, particularly the one named Malchiah from Children of the Corn?  Did I??  DID I???


But I put on my big girl panties and only bought my alotted two.

Deep breath.   Ahhhhhh.......

I may have taken my calming breath too soon because when we made it to the front of the shoe box sized store we found that although there were two able bodied individuals up front with two cash registers, there was only one woman working.  When I turned to look at my friend I noticed that although we were third in line we weren't last.  The line was stretching down the stationery section aisle and people were looking pissed!

At that very instant I felt that being in the car with 6 moody kids was better than being in here.  My friend and I just kept exchanging glances with one another and I kept looking outside to see if A) any of the kids had jumped ship from the SUV left idling in the parking lot or B) was it rocking back and forth to the point that we may need to worry that someone was being attacked by one of the other occupants of the vehicle. No one jumped out or was maimed in our absence although I cannot be sure as to how the clerks in the store fared once we had purchased our items and left the remaining long line of customers. 

A good 20 minutes later we were making our way back out to the parking lot.  We made a mental note that we would allow one flashlight per pairing.  One for the moms, one for the 5yr olds (which was sure to start an argument), one for the teenagers and finally one for the middle kids.    We made sure that the flashlights were all the same color for the kids to prevent blood shed.  Our flashlight was a different color and would have gone completely unnoticed as such if we had been just a tad bit quicker when installing the batteries.  As we tried to get the flashlights ready I revisted the idea of the duct tape when the 5 yr olds became obsessed with the idea of holding the flashlights and kept asking over and over and OVER to "just hold em, not use em...just hold em".

Another 10 minutes of driving and we were at the corn field.  We made our way down the winding  driveway and into a clearing with the cornfield set back a ways.  There was no one there and no lights.  What the hell??  It looked closed.  Immediately the kids started asking if they could get out.  My friend and I just stared blankly at one another.  Again...what the hell??  I picked up my Crackberry and quickly found the website for the corn maze.  Right on the first page of the website it listed the dates and the times.  Only one problem.  The thing opened at 6p and it was currently 5:07p.  We would either need to spend 53 grueling minutes (yeah...7 minutes less than an hour) in a vehicle with the kids -OR- attempt to come back another time before it was set to close for the season.

We weighed our options, with each ticking second which happened to feel like minutes but sadly were not.

The Pro's to staying....

1) We had already driven out here.
2) We had the flashlights.
3) The kids each had a friend with them.
4) This would really be the only time we could do it.

The Con's to staying...

1) Shit seriously making this list only ate up like 1.5 minutes...OMG, that means like another 51 1/2 more minutes of sitting in this vehicle with these kids???

We went with the pro's list and then after waiting in the car for another 20 minutes, let the kids out to tear up the place.  That bought us another 10 to 15 minutes and the final 15 minutes was spent telling them (mainly the 5yr olds) to stop running and slamming themselves into the ticketing building and the port-o-potty and each other and "for the love of God put down that stick before someone seriously gets hurt".

Mercifully 6p came and we bought our tickets.  We had already squashed the dreams of the tweens who had wanted to go through the maze unaided by saying "that we should all stay together it will go quicker".  Apparently the ticket taker didn't know this because one of her first questions after asking if this was our first time at the maze was to ask if we would like to go in separate groups to see who could make it through the fastest.  The tween girls bout came out of the their clothes thinking that this meant that they could go alone.  Thankfully we didn't have to be huge meanies because then she clarified that they would need to be accompanied by someone 16 yrs or older.  Luckily, we had two of those so after some quick deciding we chose to let the teens take the tweens and that left us sporting the little ones.

We all had to stand and listen to the rules of the corn maze before we could enter.  These are the ones that I can remember:

1) There is no screaming or trying to scare people while in the maze. (I liked this rule because I felt it would keep me safe from some jackleg trying to reenact Children of the Corn)

2) If you ever get lost or need help just call out "corn cop" and someone will come and assist you.

3) There is no use of fowl language used inside the corn maze, remember the corn have ears so they are always listening. (I'm not making this shit up...these were her EXACT words)


The teens with tweens in tow made their way into the maze first.  I had to keep myself from doing the happy dance because on the upside for me, 5yr olds tire quickly of holding things like flashlights thus allowing adults to carry them and therefore decreasing the chance of sickle carrying demon children from jumping out of the cornstalks to slay me.  Just a thought.

We made our way into the maze and I gotta be real honest within the first 30 seconds I thought to myself "what the fuck are you doing here this is downright creepy"...but then one of the little ones started talking about poop and I figured no scary movie I've ever seen has the mom dying while trying to dissuade a child from talking about bodily functions.  Figured I was safe so I relaxed and enjoyed the trek.  And oh what a trek it was.  We were so turned around that within 15 minutes of entering we were right back at the entrance.  The lady that took our tickets said that if you ever get to a point where you need help just call out "corn cop" and someone will come to help you.  I foolishly thought that these individuals would announce themselves.   Feeling completely overwhelmed and going in what we believed to be circles we called out for what we deemed to be our corn savior the almighty "corn cop".  That son of a bitch came out of no where through the corn and I am pretty sure I peed my pants a bit.

I told my friend that the next time we think about calling out for one of those fuckers I need to prepare my bladder.

We finally began to move and make our way to the different points on our map.  This years maze was  the phrase "We Stand Up For Freedom".  We began in the "M" of Freedom and began to get truly lost around what we believed to be on of the "E's" but were then corrected by the first "corn cop" who said we had made it to the "F".  By the time we made it to the half way point we'd been scared half to death by a shadowy "corn cop" who seemed to appear and reappear as if out of thin air.  I disaffectionately named this person Jedidiah because it sounded creepy just like him and we all agreed we didn't like him one bit.  We felt victorious that we had made it halfway through without any major incident of demonic sickle wielding children or accidents with the two boys we were coraling.  We purchased some drinks and momentarily contemplated leaving the maze but figured we made it half way, why not finish it.

About 10 minutes later we were cursing ourselves, albeit silently so as not to be thrown out of the maze.  The friend that my friends little boy had chosen to bring along as his companion for the outing began to describe in detail how he hadn't been feeling well earlier that day and was punctuating his story by farting every so often and burping in between that.  I don't know how I had gone from leader to caboose but this was the most unfortunate timing for the switch.  Another 20 minutes and we, well mostly me, had given up the silent cursing for actual audible commentary of our completely lost status.  We called out for a "corn cop" who told us we were close to be on the right track to finding our way out.

We bought what he was selling about how we were at a certain point on the map and this is how we should hold the map and blah, blah, blah another 15 minutes or so and should be out.  Then he went off to help a crying child that was part of another group and once again we were in the corn...lost...and frustrated.  We tried to figure out where we were on the map.  No dice.  The kids were getting tired.  Hell we were getting tired.  We called the teen and tween group and swore that we could hear their voices just a few rows over.  They were of no help to us.  The boys complained more of being tired and we continued to march them up this row and arrow that corner and "just down here" and "hey I think I see a light over there" and finally we had had it.  We began a somber "corn cop...oh, corn cop".  Then it began to sound desperate "corn cop...we need you...please, corn cop".  The boys even chimed in a time or two.

I then contemplated getting completely belligerent in an attempt at being escorted out of the maze, but decided that wouldn't be a good example for the boys.  But a few seconds later both my friend and I were feeling desperate and I told the boys that if the "flippin corn cop doesn't hurry up and get his butt out here  I am gonna make one or both of you cry so we could get some speedy help like that other crying child from earlier".  Amazing what the treat of child abuse can do for you...we had a corn cop on us like white on rice.

He asked, ever so politely, if we would like him to show us where we were on the map so we could finish alone.  We emphatically and in unison answered NO we just wanted to get out.  I have to admit the poor guy was super nice and even took us to some of the few last clues on our map and let the boys do them.  One was saying your ABC's while alternating your arms in an up and down position with every other letter.  For instance you started with your hands in the air for A then down for B and so on.  Wherever you landed determined whether you went left of right.  The boys started out in sync and then lost it around F which made me laugh and make a joke about "this is what we get for sending them to public school" to which our guide said he was homes schooled.  Way to bring on the creepy Children of the Corn feeling dude!

Another 10 minutes and we were free of the corn.  The boys were ecstatic, but I think we were happier.  We waited for a few minutes for the other kids but then we saw them coming from the car and realized they had finished WAY before us.  As we loaded up the kids we commented on how much fun this turned out to be and as we made our way back out onto the road and on our way home we looked back to catch some of the kids sleeping in the back seat clutching the corn they had gotten as a souvenir. 

Not every night that you choose to have 6 kids can turn out so well, but we had to admit it was pretty fun.  The best part was that after traipsing them here, there and everywhere through a cornfield for 2 hours they would sleep like logs and truly that is the most precious thing of all.

I slept pretty good myself and I didn't have one nightmare of a sickle wielding demon child although I couldn't seem to get the smell of the one little one's farts from my nostril.  Kids...they are just plain cornmaizing!

~JP

Finding common ground....

I stayed up all night last night.  Big shocker.  I had spent the last several weeks pouring through web sites about marriage and repairing the damaged marriage, fixing the broken person...blah, blah, blah and I remembered last night that a friend of mine had given me a book a few years back called "The Five Love Languages: How to Express Hearfelt Commitment to Your Mate".  I became obsessed with finding that damn book.

First I thought I might use it to bludgeon Jon to death with but then I figured it might be more useful if I actually read it and then tried to utilize the tools that it may teach me.  Thank God it wasn't in the garage or attic or in a box that was still packed from when we moved into this house just a mere...ummm...cough...ergh, 5 years ago.   But this post isn't about my inability to unpack boxes, fear of garages or attics in the middle of the night or even my fantasies of beating Jon to a pulp with great works of self help books...it's about this book and how I HAD TO FIND IT.

Priorities people...priorities!

Once I found it....conveniently located on a bookshelf, who'd of thunk...I then became obsessed with reading it.

ALL OF IT.

In one night.

I have an addictive personality...once I set my mind on something...it becomes a friggin obsession!

It was as if the expanse of the past three years of fighting and silent treatments, ultimatums, asking him to leave, letting him come back and then me leaving and the final action of taking off my wedding band and telling him "I'm done" was boiled down into to what the hell I was gonna do in the span of time that it would take me to read all 175 pages.

I'm a fast reader and I literally read this book until I could no longer hold up my head or hold open my eyes.  I fell asleep reading it then woke up and finished it.  While I slept though was when I received a message from Jon who had taken it upon himself ,without talking to me, to find his own guidance in the midst of our seperation.

We have spent a great deal of time standing on separate sides of what should be one unified relationship.  Being pig headed and stubborn has not served us well and we've both held on to the "I'm right and you're wrong", mentality so long that I don't event think we care to explain what it is that we think we may be right about.  After three years of battling you gain a great sense of entitlement to your feelings. 

After three years of battling you also get a lot of looks from the other people that have lived in the house with you through that period of time.  I'm pretty sure if we allowed the girls to use curse words, they would have some colorful choice ones for us.  I'm also pretty sure that is why the dogs piss and shit near our belongings.  It's their way of saying..."dude, either work it out or split up...this shit is annoying".

Tonight was different though.

While we have gotten good at silence and catty glances, making mountains out of the proverbial mole hills and hitting below the belt with words, tonight we simply chose to compliment one another.  It was a suggestion in the book that I had ravenously consumed and thought about bringing up to Jon but then felt like I shouldn't have to because...again...I feel that I am right in my feelings of how the past few years have gone and that would make him wrong.  I'm pretty sure it is becoming abundantly clear as to why there is no resolution to our problems.  I seriously think I may make a shirt that says "I'm right.  You're Wrong.  What's the problem again?"

So while sitting in that self entitled mindset I was shocked when he sent me a text asking if I had read the email he had forwarded me earlier about the things he was reading in order to help him better understand where he and we had gone so wrong in our marriage.  I responded that I had and I tried very hard to keep the sarcasm out of it.  Again that little voice of entitlemnt was rising up and trying to bang on the keys of my Crackberry.  I fought if off though and remained both civil and intrigued that he was making a first move.

It was a cautious feeling of intrigue though.  I mean come one, I may be on a euphoric high from the book but I'm not stupid, we've been down the heartfelt rosey posey road of make believe before.  It got us a $10,000 bill for therapy and here we were no better for the experience.  But I was good and told him that I had.  He asked if I had read the part about making the list of 3 good things about your spouse/partner.  He told me that I would need to write them down and we would share them when we saw each other later.  I said that I had written them down, I didn't bother to divuldge that this was along the same lines as what I had read in my book and had actually mentally completed the night before.  Fixing this marriage is not about what came first the book or the text.  It was about both of us trying.

I feel like I've been the only one plowing through the trenches for the past few years so for the first time in a REALLY long time I was struck by his initiative.  You gotta know this, therapy...was my idea.  Seperation...my idea.  Reconciliation...my idea.  Seperation again...my idea.  I'm thinking you are getting the picture.

With the therapy it was an ultimatum put to him when he had made what I deemed to be the biggest mistake to have happened in our marriage at that particular point in time.  My husband, in all his infinite wisdom, had chosen another woman's feelings over my own.  I'm not talking his mother or his sister.  Nope I am just talking about an old friend.

Yep, that man I love so dearly and had created a life with and was busy raising two children with had stood in our driveway and with my pleading eyes upon him had chosen her over me.  When all was said and done, I knew something in him had changed that day and with all that I could muster I told him it was counseling or he could pack his stuff....he chose therapy.

Now looking back and knowing some of the other things that transpired to keep him coming back to sessions week after week, sometimes twice a week, it is no surprise to me why the years worth of marital counseling did nothing more than to fatten our therapist bank account and keep us emotionally bankrupt.  Another factor for me at least has been watching the systematic demise of some of my friends marriages.  It's hard to remain upbeat about your own future when those around you that you care about are hurting.  Watching their struggles amplified my own and thus created this feeling of just wanting to break free of all of it.  It was getting to the point of suffocation because all around us there was seperation, infidelity, mistrust and discord.  

I don't in any way blame our failures on those around us, but when you are struggling to bail yourselves out of a precarious situation it helps to have some solid ground around you...for us there wasn't anything like that close by.  We were forced to rely on each other and THAT was a huge problem because I no longer trusted him and I was pretty sure he felt the same way about me.

Now that we've come to the point of sink or swim, we've decided that it's every marriage for themselves and we cannot rely on what is around us in order to decide if we will fail or succeed.  I think, for myself at least, that realization made his gesture so powerful. 

Could the feelings of goodwill die tomorrow?  Absolutely.

Will the road to our security and a strong marriage be rough?  Absofuckinlutely.

But do I think it's possible to come back from the abyss of "I'm done" and possibly find more than just this tiny sliver of common ground?  I have hope that it is and that is far more than I had within me when I went searching for that book.

I'll take my common ground.  I am thankful for it and I look forward to what may come as I take ever so tiny and well thought out baby steps towards something better than where I am right now.

~JP

Penny's Thought of the Day....

Being back at home after just a few days back out in the work place has been both a blessing and blow to my confidence.  I've relinguished my Crackberry to Penny's capable hands....ergh, I mean paws.  Most of my calls are from Jon, since I haven't gotten any responses on the millions (okay 5) resumes I've turned loose in the employment world.  I don't want Jon to think I'm slipping back into my depressive ways so I rely on Penny to give him other reasons as to why I won't answer my phone.  I think she's doing a pretty good job so far.....

....ok...so she doesn't follow direction well, but at least she didn't tell him I was sleeping...or working my FarmVille farm on Facebook.  But there is just one problem...she seems to have just one go to phrase for where I am or what I am doing....

....hmmmm, guess i gotta work on some other answers for her to give him because I'm getting REALLY tired of him coming home with Imodium and Cranberry in an attempt to "help with my bathroom issues".

In job searching, as in life...it really is ALL about the hair.

This week has been particularily productive.  I haven't slept in all day and I've managed to leave the house not once, but on several seperate occasions...go me!  I realize it is only Tuesday...but I'm taking baby steps towards success.

Yesterday brought my first interview in almost 2 weeks.  I was beginning to think it was me.  Then I realized...who ever snagged me as an employee would be extremely lucky.  Way to go with the delusional thought process!

Last week, on Friday I got a call on a resume that I had emailed only 45 minutes earlier.  I was like "oh hot damn"...this is my jam..have me dancin until the a.m....oh wait..THAT is totally not even relevant in this situation.  Anyways..I was completely awe struck with how quickly I had gotten a response.  I was more than a little excited.  When the woman was unwilling to give me any details on what the positon entailed and what the name of the company was I went from intrigued to completely mezmorized by the mystery of it all.

Monday brought my interview and it went really well.  My horroscope on facebook had predicted that red was my lucky color for the day, so I didn't try to tempt the internet gods and I doned a red top.  I rocked the straight hair feeling that it made me look more professional and serious.

I got a great vibe and the interview went for a little over an hour.  The woman that interviewed me seemed to think I was a "good fit" and that I'd "bring a lot to the office" and promised that I would hear something by the end of the week.

I went home hopeful and already arranging my soon to be workspace in my mind.  It's what I do people...it's the just how I am.

I slept great last night...yes it was thanks in part to the wine but I'd like to think it was the universe speaking to me about the position and this dreams regarding the position ensued.

This morning after bringing the kids to school I got another call on another resume I had sent out.  This one was in the same vicinity as the interview yesterday, about 5 minutes from where my last job was located.  I'm used to the commute so I didn't take issue with it.

I consulted facebook and found that today blue would be my color of positive vibes.  Who am I to fuck with the iron clad workings of the virtual internet guru?

I'm two months into job searching which makes me 1 month behind on mortgage and completely out of excuses for my children who want EVERYTHING that cost money.  When Jennifer Lopez sang "My Love Don't Cost a Thing" she DEFINITELY was not singing about my kids!  That's for damn sure.

Feeling that a change of color wasn't enough I decided to go from seriously straight to curly confidence. 

I went in thinking..."no big deal.  I'm pretty sure I got this job from yesterday all locked up.  I'll just go in and get this interview out of the way and wait for the call from lady I spoke with yesterday".

That mentality lasted all of 3...ergh...maybe 5 minutes.  At that point I went from totally in love with the job that was described yesterday to seriously land this position that I was interviewing for now.

There was the increase in pay.  The potential for advancement and the fact that this employer repeated over and over how they were interested in keeping their employee's happy to reduce turn over.  This was a HUGE change from my last employer where we were told on a daily if not hourly basis that "WE WERE ALL REPLACABLE".  I believe the phrase "drones" was used on a weekly basis.

This interview lasted over an hour as well and I met with both the office manager and the owner who happened to be husband and wife.  I felt good when I left and was told that they were hoping to get the position filled and start the new hire on Monday.  I began to walk out, saying good-bye and thanking them for their time.  They called out and said that they would be making a decision by the end of the day.  I had heard that in the past and remembered that this is the south...every thing moves slower in the south.  I just nodded and smiled.

It was 2:02 p.m. when I walked out of the office.  I had to go and get gas because my SUV was crying for more ways to drain my bank account.  Ugh...as much as I love my Honda Pilot...sometimes I miss my Camry.  I miss it's cheap fill up.  So I manuevered through construction first calling Jon then my best friend Allie to discuss the most recent interview.  No one answered.  So unreliable.

Allie was the first to call me back.  I went through the entire interview.  Weighed out the pros and cons of this job in comparison to the interview yesterday.  Of course I talked as if I had both of them in the bag.  Seriously...I have GOT to stop doing this.  It never fails that my over confidence leads to utter disappointment in the end.  But when your talking to someone that has known you for almost as long as you've known yourself you find that it is like looking in a three way mirror with bad lighting...you see all your faults and flaws.  You see the things that could keep you from achieving any kind of success in any part of your life and then the sheer panic sets in.

Thankfully she is REALLY good when it comes to dealing with my irrational side.  We talked it out and mid sentence my phone rang.  It was the job that I had just left.  It was 2:45 p.m.  I didn't know if the fact that only 40 minutes had passed was a good or a bad thing.

I clicked answer on my Crackberry and tried to sound as professional as one can sound as they drive 75 mph down a rain slicked interstate. 

Me:  Hello.

Perspective employer:  Hi.  Is this Jessica?

Me:  Yes it is.

Perspective employer:  Hi this is "your perspective employer".

Me:  Oh...hi how are you?  (feeling completely idiotic for saying this but trying to pass it off non chalantly)

Perspective employer:  Are you driving?

Me:  Yes.  It's raining.  Sorry for the noise.

Perspective employer:  Can you drive and talk or should I call you back?

Me:  (feeling that this may be a post interview test about multi-tasking)  Yes.  Yes I can talk and drive in the rain.  (oh god...why did I have to say that...you are such an idiot...you sound like a fucking idiot...they are gonna fire you...oh wait they have to hire you to fire you...okay...they are DEFINITELY not going to hire you because you are an I-D-I-O-T)

Perspective employer:  Well we have discussed your resume and based on your interview....

Me:  (holding breath and trying to focus on the road)

Perspective employer:  ....we would like to offer you the position.  Can you start on Monday?

Me:   (attempting NOT to drive off the road while doing the happy dance in utter elation at having been offered a job after a month of searching and having epic failure's in regards to interviews)  I am very interested.  I would like to accept the position. (omg...you sound like a fucking moron...now that they have in fact hired you...they may in fact fire you before you even start because they will have reviewed this retarded response)

Brand new employer:  Well then we will see you Monday morning at 8a.  Wear scrubs and we will go from there.

Me:  Okay.  Thank you.

I hang up and contemplate pulling over so that I can scream and dance without possibly running other drivers off the road.  I decide against it seeing as I am only one exit away from the mall which is my final destination.

I called my best friend back and ran through the details of the job as if I am reviewing a date from back in my high school days.  My first concern in all my backwards thinking was "do you think I agreed to quickly" and "what if the other job calls me in the next couple of minutes". 

I was deaf to the cosmic voices that were literally screaming "accept the gift I have just given you dumb shit".  Nope...here I was with the grass MUST be greener on the other side of the employment fence.  My best friend tried to lay rational thoughts upon me....but thankfully she can be just as crazy as I am at times so while she would drag me to reality she would also feed my fantasy that a virtual bidding war would ensue over my AMAZING talents.

Jon stepped in and brought my ass firmly back to reality and said that if the other job did in fact call and offer me the position it's a first come, first employ mentality.  He told me to thank her but to respectfully decline the position, remain true to the one that hired me first and move on to paycheck earning bliss.  That theory seems all fine and good IF the person he was talking to was a clear thinking individual.  Reality was...he was, unfortunately talking to me.  Reality is only what I am willing to make of it and my reality didn't include being...well...umm...realistic.

Thankfully, I sat back.  Took a few deep breaths.  Glared hatefully at my Crackberry willing it to ring with the a call from the previous days interview and when that didn't occur I made the call to advise her that I had been offered a job, which I had accepted.  I was prepared to "respectfully decline" her envisioned fawning advances to win me over to her position.

Yeah, that didn't happen.  When I got the woman on the phone she acted as if she couldn't remember who the hell I was.  I was like hey...jackleg...I'm the one you were showing your grandkids baby and school pics!  Remember me now?!?

Apparently not.

At that moment I knew I had made the right decision.  Curly hair and all I will be moving on to the next chapter in my professional life.  Thank you facebook and all your cosmic certainty.  I'd like to commend you on the color choices but ask that in the future you advise individual on hairstyle choices.  It would save a lot of hassle in the long run.

~JP

Penny's Thought of the Day

Penny, my personal assistant.....

 

The Philosophy of Penny

It's creeping up on 3:30 a.m. and it is by far my favorite time of day. Middle of the night. Is that truly a time of day? Or would that be classified as time of night?? I mean it is dark outside. There is not even a wisp of sunlight in the sky.

Ever wonder why I never accomplish anything...hint, hint, hint...it's the never ending Q&A session that occurs in my mind 24/7.

I can't sleep because my mind doesn't shut off.

I can't accomplish any task without getting hung up on a million questions as to am I doing this right?? Am I gonna like the end result?? Did I leave my flat iron on?? Oh, wait I've been wearing curly hair lately...crap...when did I shower last??

Do you see the perfect insanity that plagues me on a daily basis?? It's a wonder I remember underwear and shoes all in the same day and then manage to remember that these two items alone does not an outfit make.

I woke up today at the crack of 1pm to the shrill ringing of what was supposed to be my new BFF...the CrackBerry. After vaguely remembering what button to push in order to answer incoming calls (yes I realize it's shaped like a phone and green for GO, but when you're woken from a state of zomby euphoria these common sense rationales escape me) and then there was the voice of my youngest..."mom, did you forget to come pick me up??"

OH SHIT...what would be worse...admitting that I forgot to pick her up from the sleepover she was at -OR- forgetting she had actually gone to aforementioned sleep over altogether?? You choose.

I tried to sound breezy while I flung myself out of bed in 1.2 seconds and scrambled to pull curly hair into pony tail while simultaneously wiping the sleepy eye boogers out of my eyes that were still trying to will themselves into the awake position. I brushed my teeth as I hopped into shorts. I figured a bra was a good idea even though I was hastily pulling on one of my husbands shirts which can easily hide flailing breast that at times can look like a bizarre floation device.

The fact that I put on two matching flip flops at the same time as trying to tame the two wild beast that are my breast into their harnesses was a sheer feat of brilliance, if I do say so myself.

The greatest thing about depression...if there is a bright side to this dark hole...is that I wear pajama's ALL THE TIME.

It's a slightly less sexy version of Hugh Heffner and I don't have a team of blonde nimrods with amazing bodies to flock around me. Although if there are any hot men that would like to apply for this postion please note that I expect there to be sleeping when we sleep together. If I wanted to have sex I would work with what the good Lord and my marriage vows bestowed upon me. Also, if there are any hot men that want to just sleep with me...I'd like if you were also good with dogs because these bitches make ALOT of noise and probably need to be walked WAY more than my one time per day sleep jammed, feel sorry for me pity fest allows.

Yes ladies and gentleman I do realize that I am making myself out to sound like an emotional torturer of kids and dogs alike. Send the men with the white coats...a padded room sound like perfection right about this stage in my life.

But back to my day. I made it to the house that held the sleepover in less than 5 minutes from time that phone call of worried 9 yr old was received. Thank god we live in the same neighborhood because I really don't think I was fully awake and having to clear more than 2 stop signs would have been a challenge that I am not sure I would have been up to.

Of course my child was the last one there...CRAPY MOTHER OF THE YEAR titled is ALL locked up ladies, you can breath easy.

I strolled back to my friend, and crazy ass mother that decided 5 tween girls for a sleepover was a BRILLIANT idea, bedroom. I apologized for letting Han be the last one to leave. She asked what we had on our agenda for the day. Well, my social butterfly of a 9 yr old had been invited to a birthday party. She knew because her son and this child were in the same class. Her family would be taking their kids as well. Super. Great. Ha, ha, ha...breezy chatter about new CrackBerry...then she remarks she needs to get ready, take a shower and so forth...I ask when they are heading to the party...she comments that her son has already left. Stupidly I ask why.

She then alerts me to the fact that the party starts in under 15 minutes. FUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKK! What the shit...the procrastinator in me cannot catch a break?

I haul butt home, truthfully only stopping for one of the two stop signs and jump in the shower. I may not feel the need to smell okay for my own family, but making others suffer...well that is just wrong. See at least I have a minor shred of dignity left. Well this week at least. Check back later to see if I maintain that...I'd give 50/50 odd's on that one going by the wayside.

I was shocked at the fact that I showered and threw myself together and wrapped the gift that my husband had so brilliantly purchased earlier in the week. It was a vicious and loving strategy all in one simple act. He knew, from many years of experience, that I would A) wait until the last possible second and B) I would use ANY and ALL excuses possible to forgo party all together..especially if I could use the no gift as a reason. Damn depression was foiled again. Take that mental disorder.

Off we went to partake in cake and ice cream and a HUGE inflatable water slide that had broken bone written all over it. Within 2 hours I was the one being called to it's watery basin as my child sat wailing while holding her arm.

First thought...son of a...please don't let her have rebroken arm that she broke last year. (FYI: any teacher or school administrator that thinks taking entire 3rd class to a skating rink for an end of school year party is a FUCKING MORON)

Thankfully we were not in broken anything territory and instead she milked a bruise but I could tell her previous night of partying hard with her besties was wearing her thin and we were coming up on a full fledge meltdown. I tried to love on her. Negative. I tried to joke with her. Negative. Finally I tried bribery...BINGO! I encouraged her to pack up her stuff and we would bring one of her friends back to the house to hang out.

She caved but within 30 minutes of being home and proclaiming herself "all better" she and her friend were hinting...but not very subtly...that they wanted a sleepover.

Fine.

Whatever.

Once again we were hauling our kid off to someone elses house. Sometimes I wonder why my kids don't want to have their friends over here. Then I take a listen to our maniac dogs and review the mental catalog that is my emotional state at any given moment and I begin to see why they wounldn't want to be at home. Ever.

I made dinner for the remaining members that stayed in for the night and we settled in to watch a movie. About 30 minutes into the movie I was being beckoned to pick up Han. The meltdown that I had predicted earlier but that I had ignored at her pronouncing she felt "all better" had indeed happened and now she was crying and proclaiming a headache which was the tell tale sign that she was D-O-N-E and in desperate need of her bed and good night sleep.

Of course we couldn't just get her home and get her into bed. There had to be one more emotional showdown. Oh how I adore the pre-pubesent years. Shoot me now.

I may have believed that my first daughter was an emotional rollercoaster but she doesn't hold a candle to this one. I'm beginning to think I need to start crushing up Midol and putting it into her orange juice in the morning as a preemptive strike.

Finally her room fell quiet as the Tylenol kicked in for the headache she had from crying and the sheer exhaustion of the last couple days took ahold of her. Our movie ended and one by one the husband and then Liv made their way to bed.

And then it was just me. Well and Penny, my trusty late night companion.

I sit here thinking through the day. With all the questions that tick through my mind constantly. Consistently.

I sip on my Sleepy Time tea. What a joke...but damn if it isn't yummy. I sit here typing and thinking.

Thinking of the time when I would have counted this day as a good day. An eventful day. A normal day in the life of a mom and wife. The sliver of a sane person that remains in residence inside my body tries to rationalize that I just need to accept the goodness that comes out of the madness of not getting every single thing perfect.

I wonder why I can't accept my imperfections as others do of themselves. I contemplate why I feel a day spent sleeping ranks higher than the days I spend not doing all that I set out to do or stumbling with the things I do manage to accomplish, but are still filled with trying to find a median.

I can feel myself reeling through a million more questions...and then my process of questioning is broken by a large SMACK. I spin around in my chair to see that Penny has managed to fall off the couch while still wrapped up in a blanket.

She is flailing about like...well...like a dog wrapped up in a blanket that had been sleeping comfortably on the couch but that has now fallen to the floor. She finds her way out from inside the blanket. Shakes off the thud she has received and pops back up onto the couch. She leans over the side of the couch, grasp the corner of her blanket in her tiny mouth and pulls until there is just enough of it back on the cushion with her and curls back up inside it.

It is this moment of complete randomness that makes me realize sometimes you just gotta pick yourself up off the floor and get back on the couch. Maybe it's my new metaphor for life. As taught to me by my dog.

Or maybe it's just the universe and the Sleepy Time tea's way of telling me that I need to go to bed.

Yeah, yeah...I'm gonna go with the second one. It makes me sound less crazy. Please...woman listens to her dog to validate her life. Now that is a sure sign of insanity.

Another reason why the second one seems to be a better solution is because just a minute or so after getting the blanket back on the couch and nestling inside it she manages to fall off the couch inside the blanket once more. Only this time instead of picking herself and blanket back up off the floor she walks around the blanket as if to scold it for causing her downfall. Then peers at me before burrowing down under the blanket while it lays on the floor.

What's the lesson now Penny? If at first you don't succeed...sleep on the floor. Yep...that's my dog. That's my life. And that's my cue to call it a night and get some rest.

~JP