that space between the weekend.

Ah yes, Monday morning... The dull beginning to that space on the calendar that lies between the weekends. I think the weekends should be 3 days. It seems like that would be a much more realistic balance between the things you have to do and the things you want to do. I always feel like I'm getting cheated.

You mean, I have to go to work and serve someone else for 5 days, and in return all I get is a measly 2 days to myself?? That just doesn't make sense. But then again, I don't make the rules. Maybe Mr. O would like to give this scenario a stab since he seems to be hell bent on giving the people "what they want" no matter how ridiculous the request. That, however, is another blog entirely.

I find that Mondays are an excellent opportunity for reflection. Today, I am spending a few moments be thankful that I didn't die.

Amid my industrious endeavors this weekend, I found myself flat on my rear, one knee deep in the deck, with a pair of branch shears in my hands. It's a miracle I did not impale myself with those shears, but somehow I managed to toss them to the side as I was tumbling to the ground. Looks like the deck needs some board replacement, as they are definitely rotted in that section, LOL. Luckily, I walked away with a bruised ankle bone and not a sprain or a break, but it sure did hurt like hell.

My reward for not killing myself: a hot bubble bath and a nap. ;) The more I thought about it, the luckier I realized I was. That situation could have gone badly in so many ways, and I am just thankful it didn't. Now... I guess I'll jump head first into the dim space between the weekends and try to power through until Friday!!

ahhh... weekend.

It's Saturday. 60 degrees outside, sunny, and the petals from the dogwood tree are fluttering through the backyard. Jerry is out in the garage working on his motorcycle, the dog is playing outside, and I have nestled into the perfect spot on the couch for writing while the tunes of Miles Davis waft through the house. 

This is my heaven.

I've become so domesticated I hardly recognize myself anymore. Gone are the nights of drunken stupors, and the mornings of Advil and Gatorade breakfasts. Instead of ridding myself of the latest hangover and inappropriate misdeed of the night before, my morning aspirations consist of popping into the grocery store to survey the new organic selections and working on getting my bulbs planted out back. Even the occasional load of laundry does not phase me. I rather enjoy it.

I always imagined what it would be like to have a life like this, but could never quite wrap my head around giving up the bright lights of the city. There was a time when I reveled in social status. I bumped elbows with celebrities, billionaires and Hollywood stars and thought nothing of it. I have privileged cell numbers for names you wouldn't believe stored in my phone. Every weekend was about hitting the hottest spots in town, showing off your latest and greatest outfit, purse, or shoes, and being seen. It was fun, and a life that I wanted to live. But now I'm done. That life is over, and while I look back on it fondly, I do not miss it. 

I never had a good feel for who I was. In the privacy of my overpriced downtown loft, I knew who I was... but I tried to ignore her so I could be who I thought I should be. It's amazing I still have any friends left. I had to be obnoxious. It's even more amazing that my liver did not boycott my body altogether, consuming that much alcohol on a daily basis can not be good. But I digress... 

It's nice to sit here in my sunny living room and have so many interests, projects, and loves, that I don't know where to start. I can't wait to go grocery shopping and plan all the things I'm going to cook this week. I have a box of flower bulbs I am ecstatic about planting out front and in the new planter box Jerry built for me outside the kitchen window. I have a brand new house, which for me, is like a blank canvas. On top of that, just about all I can think about these days is having a baby. Not that we're "trying" per se, but it seems to flood my mind whether I mean to think about it or not. So there's lots of things going on, and absolutely none of them involve anything that I used to make a priority in my life. (Except writing of course... even the tone of that has changed substantially.)

So now, I'm going to make a list (oh yes, there's lists) and jump in headfirst to my most favorite part of the week.

home.

I've been seeing quite a few blogs lately talking about home. Marriage, family life, having babies, etc. I then wonder who started this and why is it now every married couple's responsibility to have a blog documenting their lives? Do we not EVER talk to each other any more? 

When I think about my closest friends, I realize that the majority of our communication these days happens via facebook, text message, email, and myspace; kinda weird. But we all get busy, life gets complicated and it's hard to keep up. I supposed without the wonderful modern inventions we are so lucky to have access to, we may lose track of the people we love- and that would be tragic.

Maybe it's my turn to talk about home. I just don't want to. I'm afraid it's just going to come out sounding gushy and well, boring, to everyone else. What I love most about home is just being there. We finally made it into a new house, and not a moment too soon. Our previous house (rent house) was pretty damaged by Ike back in September, and our deadbeat landlord was too busy trying to scam the insurance company to bother with fixing anything for us. After 6 months with holes in the roof, missing fences, mold growing in the attic making us sick constantly, and no word from her... we bailed. Her insurance agent gave us the thumbs up on that one when he came back around, which was nice, but we had moved out the day before that anyway!

Now we're up in Spring, away from the crud of the city, the ghetto people who seem to pop up everywhere down there, and the bars on our windows. I like it here. Everyone is so nice and friendly everywhere you go. The first week we were here, it seemed that we were constantly taken aback by the friendliness and helpfulness of people in stores, restaurants, fast food joints, really just everywhere! How sad is it that we have to be so excited about that? It just goes to show you how sad a state things are in when the shitty service is the norm.

So I guess, in a nutshell, life is pretty good. It's really surprising how large a role your surroundings play in your life. I feel like we are real grown ups now, finally settled. Now all we need is a baby. ;)

impatience.

Upon the advice of a fellow writer, I am taking my first plunge into free form, stream-of-conscious writing. I've been feeling a little blocked lately, as some would speculate, due to all the happiness in my life. I've never been happy like this before, so I don't really know how to handle it, and as a sad consequence of all this blissful living, my writing has gone to crap.

I think part of it is the gruesome 8 hours I spend at my job every day being unmotivated and unstimulated. I've had to sneak in some blog time during work just to keep myself from going insane. When I imagine writing, I think about sitting in my bright, sunshiny living room with my feet propped up and laptop in, well...lap, and just writing away undisturbed. Rarely does it happen that way. Scratch rarely, it never happens. Instead, I try to write during the day at work, but find myself being interrupted constantly, and losing my train of thought entirely. Maybe I should be more disciplined.

And here I am distracted again. I just spent about 30 minutes looking for background images for my Twitter page. Stupid.

writing.

I've decided I'm going to jump right into some intensive writing. I need to get back on track, and I have been really bad about putting it off for other things. No more excuses. I'm writing every day for a month, and let's just see what happens.

Could be fun.

motivation.

Motivation is like sex drive (well, at least from a female perspective.) It kind of comes and goes. And when it's there, it's like the only thing you can think about, and you're totally dedicated to every facet of the process. When it goes, you can't remember what you were all worked up about before anyway.

I've been feeling that way about my job lately. It's been so difficult to stay motivated, because everything around here is so unorganized.

When I was hired, I took a few weeks to really learn the business and dive in head first. After that, I was bored. I was tripling the previous sales margins, and signing huge clients left and right. Great, huh? BORING! I had been piddling with minor projects here and there, database organization, a system for inventory tracking, more marketing projects... but it still wasn't enough.

After only 3 months of working here, I pitched an idea for a new division of the company to my boss. Turns out, she loved it and was looking to do something along those lines in the future anyway. How thrilled she was with me and my ideas and my executions! Yay! Finally something interesting to do. Long story short... things are up and running, duties have been delegated and I'm bored again.

Sigh.

I don't know what it is that I need to stay motivated, but this is not cutting it. I feel like I'm wasting my time and commuting an hour each way to do so. What's worse is that the pay is not even that great. Not good enough to stay very long, but not so bad that I would leave hastily. I'm stuck in mediocre HELL. Help!