Life's little lessons

This month (well, the last month and a half really) has certainly been exciting. And frustrating. And rage-inspiring. And plain ole' inspiring.

After I wrote about life conspiring to get me, Steven was in a (fortunately) minor car accident, which while it did little to no known damage to him, it really screwed up his car. And really, I'll take that. Plus, we had been planning on getting a new car this month/next month so this really actually kind of sped up that process. My wallet was recovered. By the police. Because some old broad posed as me and tried to buy a ticket to Paris and board a plane. Thank goodness I reported every single piece of identification in my wallet stolen, along with my credit cards and the system came through.

We fixed a slew of other smaller, but equally as frustrating issues (almost every company that sends us bills on a monthly basis billed us wrong this month) and actually got to spend time with each other. Something that's been in short supply over the last two months. I've even managed to stay on top of school work and home repairs (though we'll see how long that lasts once I have my surgery). And on the topic of home repairs, we changed the paint in a few rooms, moved some furniture around and added a linen closet and suddenly the house actually feels like a home (more on that later this week/early next week).

Basically, I feel that life was on a rampage to teach us some important lessons about having a good chunck of savings in the bank, time management and spending good, quality time with each other. I'm still awful at putting money in the bank, and everytime I step into HomeGoods I blow my savings account (you know, the entire $30 that's perpetually in there), but I'm at least more aware and trying. Steven is trying too and that's all I can ask. As for time management and spending time together, we're getting there. I've always been good at multi-tasking, but I'm not good at being romantic or lovey-dovey, whereas Steven is better at being lovey-dovey than multi-tasking. Perhaps with our powers combined...

I've also realized how fortunate we are to have such good friends and family. Everyone has been so supportive over the last month. From just listening to us bitch, to invaluable advice, to going out of their way to help us out, we just have the best friends/family ever.

Now on a completely different subject, our 5 month anniversary is coming up in the house and I have tons of before/afters to share. You know, something on topic for once!

When boredom takes over

Sometimes, someone special comes into your life and you know for sure they're meant to be your soulmate -- or at the very least, an addition to your harem. Unfortunately, sometimes they come with lady parts and that's really not what you're looking for at this time. One such friend is "Sally" (I've changed her name to protect her from all the other people who may try to steal her from me since she's so awesome).

"Sally" and I are both on the same pain killers, because we have the same doctor and he's being bribed to hand out the same non-narcotic pain killers. Like this is a fucking Torchwood: Miracle Day episode or something.

Observe what happens when you combine pain killers with crippling boredom:

Sally: I'd like to be a robot. Can I die and become a machine? Being human is overrated.

Me: No. Only because according to our medication we have to use care using machines, and you see how well that went with my iPhone.

Sally: Then don't use me! You're always trying to use me. If we were in a REAL relationship, this wouldn't be a problem. But NOOOOOOOO. It's always about sex with you. *Sob*

Me: Duh. Hey, will you automatically clean my floors when they get dirty? I could probably be ok with you being a sexy roomba.

Sally: I can get a roomba attachment to clean your floors.

*Thinking it over*

Sally: But I don't want to clean even if I were a robot.

Me: You'd have no choice. As your human overlord I'll run your prime directives, which means you're cleaning my floors. However, since I'm a benevolent overlord, I'll rub your tummy in exchange for you cleaning my floors.

Sally: Can I download a purr?

Me: Only if it's a tiger purr.

Sally: Best. Master. Ever.

Me: This is totally becoming a blog post.

I think this is where I say "drugs are bad, m'kay" but really. Who DOESN'T want to be a robot and/or robot overlord?

Say Hello to My Little Friend

Last night I came home from a day of training, sick as a dog to find that Klaus and Nyx (our beloved dogs) had ripped open a bag of whole wheat flour in the sunroom/my office. I of course, chose the responsible route and just collapsed on the couch without cleaning it up.

While I laid there basically comatose for a couple hours, waiting for Steven to get home from work, I started noticing that Klaus and Nyx would randomly walk over to the piles of powder and would sniff the flour and then lick it. Then they'd come back to the couch with their snouts covered in white power.

I started to wonder if I had gone back into the 1980s and Klaus and Nyx were really just extras in Scarface. Then I kept giggling at the thought of Klaus introducing Nyx as his "little friend".

And all of this without the aid of drugs.

Things overheard on the train...

Oddest pick-up line:

"I want to put you on The View"

I'm not sure if I'm mad or just impressed.

Perspective

I'm getting a little tired of life trying to bring me down. Over the course of the last month, without fail, at least one REALLY annoying albeit small thing (in the grand scheme of things) has happened. It's like life has decided to see how long it's going to take me to turn into a drooling crazy person.

Well, YOU'RE TOO LATE, LIFE. I'M ALREADY THERE.

But seriously. Just since Friday, I've had my wallet stolen by some cute old lady that had basically every form of ID I currently have. My phone's screen was cracked. My dog spazed and scratched the shit out of me, leaving big bruises that make me look like I should be going to a women's shelter, I got a ticket in D.C. for having an expired Virginia's inspection, my roof has a little leak in it, my basement has a little leak in it and Baltimore City just charged us $20 to dump off bad, gross, unrecyclable carpet even though we pay almost 30% our property value in property taxes and the dump should be free for residents.

So, I'm here to say, I'm going to stay in a perpetually happy mood and be one of those creepy people you always kind of want to kick in the shins and run away from, because they're so weird.

Fortunately, I also have my coworkers here to remind me it could be worse. Just yesterday one mentioned a guy he knew who had to break up with his girlfriend because she got just a little too friendly with Mr. Ed.

Perspective. I just got it.

A note about follow-through (possibly hygiene)

Follow-through, the right way:

Brittany: Hey, the asshat dog peed on this pillow. Can you go into the creepy basement and wash it?

Steven: Yes dear. I'll take care of that right now.

--small time elapse--

Steven: Taken care of!

Follow-through, the wrong way:

I'm pretty sure Klaus is in this picture just to mock me.

Update: I found the pillow on top of the washer, still unwashed. Time to get all stabby!

P.S. I would never actually stab Steven and write about it. That's just irresponsible.

Irony, aka Life's way of punching you in the teeth

I'm getting shoulder surgery at the end of the month and though I've been dealing with this for the last 7 years, I recently decided I'm a big baby and I need to take pain meds for this issue.

Well, because I have to work in a fairly professional environment, the doc and I decided to leave the narcotics for post-surgery. He gave me this other pain med that's supposed to allievate pain without making me a fucking moron.

But then he gave me muscle relaxors.

Tricky, tricky doctor.

I decided to read the labels for what he prescribed me and noticed this horribly written warning: "Use care using machines". Not heavy machinery, but machines.

Of course, I mocked this badly written warning with my dear friend Leah and we made Terminator references.

Then I took my phone on a trip to get Chipotle (Take that schemeing spouse! I'll be fat if I want!) and dropped it. Cracking the screen.

Life. Punch. Teeth.

Drugs are bad, m'kay.