Dang, facebook has really killed my blog. I still have things to say but I post them with my phone and get instant gratification, they really do a better job of appeasing my ego than blogger does. So what the hell am I doing here? I still like my blog. It's a good measure of where I am in life - a chunk of digital memory that can be slurpped into some sort of navel gazing book later for the great grandkids to see how boring life was in the early 2000s... or not.
Work - fricking great!
Family - fricking great!
House - needs work.
Roller Derby - I'm trying to referee (that shit is HARD)
Extracurriculars - needs work. More canoeing please.
List making - fricking great!
I made some new friends this year. I like them (Obviously! jeeze) This means I spend a good amount of time lately worrying if I said something stupid or didn't do enough of a thing or too much of a thing because I want my new friends to think I am the greatest of friends. It's like fifth grade again but with beer and without the jump rope (because jumping hurts.) Whenever I get too far into my own head about what I did or didn't do around my new pals I try to remember I'm 44 and pay bills and have control of the t.v. remote*. I am mighty!
I feel sad for the dog today. She was spayed three days ago and she's still not eating much. She still has to have the cone on her head for at least five more days. I keep thinking she can have it off but them I'm on 'lick-sound alert' and that's no fun when you're trying to get some work done. She doesn't know what's going on or why this happened to her despite my explaining the social responsibilities of a pet ownership and strays in the city - she just refuses to accept the stratification of species classes and argues in favor of wild wolves roaming the city and small sick humans just taking their chances when walking to granny's house. There's no talking to her today.
*Nobody really wants the t.v. remote anymore. It's just me flipping between news channels and the weather channel now. Each kid has the whole universe in their pocket and even if they're on the second floor of the tree house, in the back yard, and the want to see the 15th episode of Gilligan's Island, they can whip it out and call it up and watch it. They don't though, because that would be cool, and I would go out there and watch Gilligan's Island with them - they just watch shitty videos of other kids playing video games. They don't even deserve the remote.