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Thursday, January 24, 2013

Kiss my grits, World.

Can you sue someone for exposing you, unwillingly, to an environment that makes you so stressed out you want to eat gobs and gobs of chocolate?  And the reason you have access to the chocolate is because it is placed in a bowl 5 feet away from your desk for mass consumption?
I know a few lawyers, I might look into that.
Last night I was awakened at least four or five different times. The first time was from my bladder. The second was the dog's bladder and the third, fourth and fifth was a toddler.  We placed a small air mattress next to our bed so that when he gets scared he can come into our room but not sleep in our bed, or on my head as it turns out.
He decided to tell me that he didn't like the bed. "No Bed, Mommy's Bed" at a volume loud enough for me to hear, but apparently not for Don's ears.  Don has been working on Oscar's speech.  When he wants something he has to ask the entire question " May I have some more apple juice please?"  This two second phrase takes him about 5 minutes and he decided to practice it at 3 in the morning. MAY.......I........HAVE........SOME.......MORE......APPLE........JUICE.....PLEASE.
After the fourth or fifth time, Don heard him and got him a drink.
Before I knew it my alarm was going off and it was time for me to go to Crossfit. If you are not familiar with Crossfit it is a place you go to get your ass handed to you.
By 5:30 I was running suicides and by 5:45 I was dead-lifting 195 lbs. 
When I get back home I am greeted by Don mumbling something about coffee and one or all of my sons who are shocked that I would leave the house so early and not place breakfast on the table before I left. Followed by a simultaneous breakfast order that I am expected to immediately fill.  I wish I had a little bell and I would ring it for Mel to come around the corner and I would say " kiss my grits". Even Mel in his sailor hat couldn't keep up with my boys who must have a tape worm living inside of them.
Note* That Alice reference just shows you how crammed my brain is with useless information, especially from a show that was created before I was born.
In one of my first job interviews, I was asked  if I could have one super power what would it be. First of all, that is such a dumb interview question.  I don't remember what I said, but I'm sure it was something stupid like flying. If asked again, I would say I want a pause button.
The only catch would be that if I paused the world around me, they wouldn't age but I would. So if I paused it, say 2 hours every day for a nap then after about a month I will have aged 2 days longer than everyone else, and that wouldn't be good.
I digress.
The pause button would allow me to collect my thoughts and come up with something really witty in response to something that my boss said to me. Or allow me to take an uninterrupted shower without hearing phantom kids calling my name. Every time I step in the shower I think I hear someone screaming my name, even when they are not home. 

Getting everyone in the car and to school/daycare on time every day is an act of divine intervention. This morning Fin told me he HAD to show me a flasher on the internet. As alarming as that sounded, I felt I needed to look. It was an origami thing. He is slightly obsessed with origami and a flasher is a thing... (I can't even describe it). Anyway Jeremy Shafer (orgami guru, and Fin's idol) recommends a special paper for the flasher and you can only get it by calling this number in San Fransisco because they don't have a website.  After I looked at it, I said no, so he was pouting and repeating that he NEEDS a FLASHER from SAN FRANSISCO.
By the time I arrive at work, I feel like I have already put in a full day and I'm ready for a nap. Hence the pause button.
Life moves too fast. I need to figure out a way to slow it down.  Despite the San Francisco flasher, I know that the majority of my stress is self imposed.  I am the only one who can let things get to me enough to cause me stress.  What is it exactly that I'm yearning for? Perfection? Maybe perfection is more about the journey and less about the result.  Maybe all the bumps in the road are meant to slow me down because if the road was smooth,  I would probably be pretty dull, which would result in my kids being even more dull.  The chocolate that tempts me every time I pass it may be an effort for me to stop and talk to the office assistant.  Or a covert operation to fill my mouth so I stop talking, who knows. 
If I have a point, it would be this. Lack of sleep, demanding boys, annoying bosses, origami, apple juice and  useless sitcom knowledge have all led me to this place right here, doing what I love...writing. Besides, if I didn't have any bumps I would have nothing to write about.

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