Sidebars galore ...

My Grandma used to say “I’m so T-U-R-D tired, that I could F-A-R-T faint”.

I’m so continually tired this last two weeks that I’m entertaining the notion that something may actually be wrong with me. I think my grandma’s little saying that’s been ping-ponging around in my brain for weeks has finally hit the “hey dummy, make a doctor’s appointment” button in my brain and is making it flash neon. I’m sure it’s probably just stress that’s worn me out but it’s time for a professional opinion. It’s the norm for me to deal with the current crisis and break down after the fact (almost like a reward - and truthfully I actually consider that a strength of sorts). So maybe it’s just that -- my body knows the current crisis is over and its break downing … damn it.

Sidebar: I've always been resentful of those people in my life who break down exactly when times get hard -- all I wanna' know is when do I get the luxury of a breakdown?

I feel like a little tin can that got dragged behind the “just married” sign for a couple of miles. Maybe I’m just getting old. Well, then again, I’ve always been “getting” old so maybe I’m just finally leaving the denial phase of getting old behind me and moving right on to the anger phase. Full alert! Anyway, I’m dragging so hard my butt’s leaving a trail everywhere I walk.

So I’m moved. I have my shiny little penny of an apartment (see model photo). Right now it looks nothing like the model because it’s filled with a ginormous couch and a series of brown cardboard boxes but sometime this weekend it will morph into a modelesque nest … and maybe then the cat will stop hiding under the bed. As I unpack boxes I’m finding surprisingly little in the way of necessary supplies. I didn’t realize that I’d left so much behind. For example, I had no towels. Not a one. No dishes, no glasses, no knives, no cookware and really no kitchen gadgets of any description. I ventured into Walmart for the most basic of supplies, but even after that little shopping adventure, my wish list remains longer than the line for the ladies room at the Super Bowl. The shopping is fun … the waiting to have the money to shop, eh, not so fun. I take comfort in the knowledge that building my nest over time will make it that much more special to me. Wow, there’s a new Hallmark card in that thought somewhere.

One of the bestest ever things about moving is that I have HBO and On-Demand back (and that makes me wanna’ do a happy dance), so I have tons of movies to catch up on up and plenty of time to do it in (and that makes me wanna’ do a happy dance too). I finally saw “The Devil Wears Prada” (which was eh, ok) and “The Lakehouse” (which I loved probably because I’m fascinated by the space/time continuum … well and Keanu Reeves is a little-bitta’-ok too).

Sidebar: I wonder if men like that really exist or if they’re just urban legends? I suppose if they did exist then songs like “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone” and “I Need a Hero” probably wouldn’t exist … it's not scientific but it's good enough for me and a thought-provoking topic for another day.

So I made a movie date with good buddy Stubert to watch “Running with Scissors” On-Demand and I’m really looking forward to that. I’ve already got popcorn and everything!

Sidebar: I adore having things to look forward to

Maybe I can get my obstacle course of brown cardboard boxes dealt with by then.


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