Remember when...

You all remember this post so it'll be easy for you to understand why I freaked (freaked) when I walked in my office in my house last night and beheld this little creature laying quite comfortably on a pile of blankets:The shudders, shakes and all that came back as I racked my brain trying to figure out how to get him out of the house. I came up with these tools:I corralled the fellow into a corner where I blocked him off with the dustpan and gave him his only option of escape - the yellow pitcher. And here we are with the lizard safely secured:You will notice the lip of the pitcher, which yes, the little guy could have escaped from but thank the heavens above he was frozen in terror and did not move.

And since my camera was handy and it has video, I shot the release of the little fella for your viewing pleasure:

Day spoiler

I'm cold. I got four hours of sleep last night. And the DMV Lady made me thoroughly angry this morning.

These three things combined means that I'm slightly ill tempered this morning and you probably don't want to place a stupid phone call complaining about why one certain thing gets more coverage over another.

Because, when I'm cold with only four hours of sleep and the residue of anger still residing on me from the DMV Lady, I'm not likely to be very nice.

So I sit here, with my unattractive farm jacket keeping me warm over my somewhat attractive work outfit this morning, sipping coffee that only has creamer in it being that we ran out of sugar earlier in the week and I continue to forget to bring more.

It's at moments like these, when the world is seemingly crumbling at my feet, that two things happen simoltaneously:

1) I want to complain REALLY BAD
2) I want someone to understand and then I want that person to tell me to get over it

But, reader beware, if you decide to be that person who tells me to get over it, I'm liable, in my fragile state right now of a) being cold b) having four hours of sleep c) being angry at the DMV Lady and d) having no sugar in my coffee, I'm liable to skewer you in the eye with my coffee stir stick and rip your socks off so your feet are as cold as mine.

Oh, and another thing - the little ball on my mouse that allows me scroll up and down pages with a minor flick of my finger is not working. So this requires me to move the entire mouse over the up/down arrows on the right-hand side of my screen, which really is quite time consuming.

My life as illustrated by a doorknob

This is a story, complete with illustrations, because as you all know, what else do I have to do other then sit here, draw illustrations, scan them into the computer, photoshop them and blog about them.

Sometimes, I just need an outlet - which is why I blog. And color sometimes. If it's been years and years and years since you've colored, try it. It's an excellent stress reliever.

Anyway, my morning started very briskly. It got quite cold last night, down to the 40's I heard. I'm in a contest with the elements to see which of us lasts longer: 1) the elements or 2) me with no heat. It's not that I have no heat; it's that I don't want to use it.

Again, anyway...
I did my usual routine of letting the dogs out and then making my way to the bathroom. And moving onto the illustrations:


This is what a normal doorknob looks like. It has a handle. One that you grab and turn to allow entrance from one room to another. However, mine is different.
This is what my doorknob looks like after the doorknob broke off, um, some two weeks ago or something. But I've still been shutting the door all way so the dogs don't go into the office, the bathroom and the laundry room. But it has never shut all the way. Until last night. And I didn't find out about it until this morning when I pushed on the door to open it and lo and behold, it didn't open. And since the doorknob was broke off, I couldn't open it.

Panic ensues. I need my bathroom, I need my make up, I need my hairbrush, I need my toothbrush. I need my CLOTHES! So I get a screwdriver and unscrew the face of the doorknob aparatus. Stuff (like screws and pieces of metal) fall into my hand and the doorknob on the other side of the door falls off.

So this is what I'm looking at. I get a pair of pliars and a pair of needlenosed pliars and a screwdriver. Nothing was budging. I was trying to pull the piece of metal you see jutting out in the illustration but nothing was working. I thought about possibly climbing through the window in the office. But I didn't want the neighbors to see that sight. So I kept tugging and pulling at this damned piece of metal.
And at this point I really had to pee. I sat on the floor by the door wondering how I was going to get myself out of this mess. I was on the verge of one of my "Get over now" attacks but somehow I managed to keep it together.

So I was looking at the piece of metal and wondering if I were a doorknob how would I operate. That didn't get me very far.

Finally, for whatever reason, the thought hit me that instead of PULLING the piece of metal, maybe I should try pushing it.

I'm a genius! It totally worked.
Then I laughed at myself.

It seems that 99% of my life is illustrated in the doorknob illustration. Half the time I'm pulling when I really should be pushing and the other half I'm pushing when I really should be pulling.

Much too young for feeling this damn old...or something like that

There are certain times in my life when I'm reminded that 1) I'm not as young as I once was and 2) my body hates me when I treat myself like I'm as young as I once was.

So I come to work looking (and feeling) hungover but, unfortunately, at my age, that just means I'm sleep deprived and operating without coffee.

I did it to myself last night. It's like committing a crime against myself that I know I'm going to regret but there's nothing I can do to stop it because doing it was too much fun.

Being home-home (that means at mom's house) makes me not want to leave so I became enraptured with the-way-my-family-is around the dinner table and I let the hours slip by. I should have driven the four hours home (singular=my house) last night but 10:30 turned into 11:30 and before we knew it it was midnight and the jokes were flowing freely and my stupid "Would you Rather" game was in full swing. Who could abandon that, right?

Exactly.

When I finally laid down on the couch it was 12:30. I set my alarm for 4 being that I still had stuff to pack, I had to navigate the driveway, switch the stuff from mom's truck to my car and begin the 4-drive home and make it to work by 9:30.

Let the sleeping commence.

NOT.

I laid there for hours...literally. And despite the fact that I only had 4 hours to sleep and the fact that I kept telling myself that fact, I tossed, turned, laid there awake, tried to keep my eyes shut, etc., etc., etc.

Then I realized. I was cracked out on sweet tea.

I've been craving it and mom had made a fresh pitcher for dinner that stayed with us on the table during our late-night familial gathering. And I kept drinking. and drinking. and drinking.

Making the discovery didn't help the sleeping situation at all.

Finally, at 2:30 I fell asleep. Even then it was the kind of sleep where I knew I was falling asleep. You know what it is - it's not the head-hit-the pillow sleep. It's the "I know I'm drifting, drifting, drifting, now I'm gone" sleep.

The alarm went off at 4. I got up at 4:20, dressed, did the hair (kinda), packed my stuff, navigated the driveway, transferred said stuff and hit the road.

So it's Monday and like most Mondays, it's a little nuts. To add to the nutti-ness, I'm trying to survive on 1 1/2 hours of sleep, one cup of coffee, a sweet-tea hangover, four hours of driving and one TV dinner.

Nap-time can't come soon enough.

She doesn't have a name yet

She slightly resembles a mom-mobile but my best friend consoled me that unlike a mini-van-mom-mobile, this a dorky-mom-mom-mobile. I can settle for dorky mom.

Anyway, yes, I finally have a set of keys that are MINE and that I don't have to return! The first time in over a month. I feel so relieved.

I woke up this morning before my alarm went off (which never happens) and I was just laying there dreading today.

I called my mom (as usual) on my way to work and told her I was dreading today and just wanted it to be over. I knew I had to turn in the rental car today and I didn't know what I was going to do. Plus, I'm just really tired of dealing with this.

I had found this car several days ago but hadn't had time to test drive it so I went today and did that. Offered them cash (from the insurance company) - they accepted my offer (amazing because I suck at stuff like that. Thankfully I had Sam with me who was giving me head nods and shakes and eye cues as to what I should say and when) and I drove off the lot with this 2003 Ford Focus Station Wagon.

Yes, I did just say station wagon.

P.S. I'll post more pictures later - I snuck out of the office and took this one but with people walking and business owners lounging outside their buildings, it was too embarrassing for me to stand out there and continue snapping photos of it. I know. I'm a dork.

You should all be proud to know that I had my propane tank filled today.

Well, not filled totally but enough for me to have hot water and a stove/oven again for the next little while. And the man said he would light my pilot light on the furnace too so when that morning comes when it's too cold to tolerate, I can have heat.

I also car shopped today and I think I found the one.

It's a 2003 Ford Focus station wagon, which makes me laugh. The words station wagon reminds me of the one my mom had when I was a kid. Let me just say, they've come a long ways since the 1980's.

But it has all the elements I need: 1) room 2) affordability and 3) great gas mileage.

So we'll see what happens. I'm dickering with the guy on prices so hopefully in the next few days I can ditch the rental car and drive off the lot with my own vehicle.

It's been almost a month since I've had my own car.

Speaking of car. It was towed away today...to a salvage yard. I know that because the mechanic called me and wanted to know what I wanted to do with all my stuff that was still in it. Thankfully they cleaned out for me. But I still feel bad. I hope it's not put into a car crusher or something because that would really hurt my feelings even more then they are already.

I know. Sentiments.

Tonight's order of business:
-cleaning the house
-laundry
-possibly painting the bathroom (possibly)
-possibly putting the kitchen table together (if I can find the bag of hardware)
-dinner and a movie in bed

Propane tanks and missionary doctors

I promise I've never talked in public so much about my showering habits then I have now. But when I woke up this morning to no hot water, that's blog-worthy.

I knew what had happened. The propane tank had run out.

It's one of those things that I have to deal with but that'd be really great if I didn't, you know? What girl wants to worry about the propane gas levels in her tank?

Want to or not, it's reality. My reality.

I've been ranting the past two days about the single-ness of my life and the fact that prospects aren't in abundance. I talked to one of my sisters who said this guy from Kentucky (a friend of a friend's) met her for the first time last month and told her that if she moved in with him she'd never have to work again, etc., etc., etc.

That never happens to me.

I talked to my brother last night and he told me that if I see someone I'm interested in, I need to go for it - not wait around for them to make the first move. Then he told me he could see me with 1) a journalist or 2) a missionary. Then he amended the missionary part to being a doctor who traveled around the world helping people, which yes, is someone I could fall for.

Now on to my next mission: finding afore-mentioned journalist or missionary doctor who 1) is single and 2) wants to be with a journalist who lives in the mountains.

Pray for me.