Housekeeping

I am a terrible housekeeper. So is my husband. It's probably a good thing we don't have kids. I don't really know how much worse the house could look than it does now. Chris Rock has a joke about how sad it is when two junky people live together. It's true. It is pretty sad.

Today, I cleaned the refrigerator. I mean really cleaned it. Took all the food out, threw out the crap that's been in there for months, washed out the bins and the shelves. It is *clean.* You could eat off it (snarf). I even mopped the kitchen floor, which really needed it. I really despise mopping, though, so I don't do it nearly as often as I should. The dh has a very high tolerance for spills on the floor, so if I don't do it, it'll never get done.

He has a fairly low tolerance for clutter, oddly enough. Much lower than mine. He'll get fed up with the junk on the coffee table or kitchen table and start "cleaning" in a frenzy (also known as throwing stuff away indiscriminately or asking every 30 seconds where something 'goes.'). The funny thing is, a dirty kitchen hardly bothers him. He'll be in a frenzy cleaning the living room and then collapse in a heap with a sink full of dishes and sticky counters.

Not to disparage him, of course. Just to note how funny people are. I'm the exact opposite. Can't see the coffee table and haven't seen the remote in weeks? Oh well; I need to clean up in here (someday). A dirty stove will set my teeth on edge, however. I totally get it from my mom.

You'd think that would be the perfect match, right? I clean the kitchen and he cleans the living areas? Nah! When I want some help cleaning the kitchen, he can't figure out why I don't just do it tomorrow. When he's tearing around cleaning, and moving things around so I can't find them later, I'm like, why don't you just sit down?

Anyway, I'm just going to bask in the glow of a clean kitchen for a while. Aaaah...

We were never being boring

'Avoid boredom, which can make you feel tired.'

This is a quote from a wire story I'm editing for work about quitting smoking. The context is that some smokers (apparently) smoke to keep alert and this sage piece of advice was meant to help with that.

This kind of sums up my feelings about work, though. I'm wide awake when I wake up in the morning, and wide awake when I pull in the parking lot, but as soon as I get to work I'm making a beeline for the coffee pot (hey, that rhymes!).

I could certainly use an extra hour or so of sleep, but I don't think that's it. I *am* bored at work. I'm tired of doing the same old thing. And I shouldn't be. I get to be creative, within certain parameters. In fact, I'm probably not really fulfilling my job's potential, I guess. I could be *trying* to do more things.

I'm not sure if I'm bored because of lack of effort on my part or what. It *is* a dead end job, but it's much better than the one I had before. The pay sucks, however and what I do isn't really appreciated, at least not where it counts (did I mention the pay sucks?).

The problem with me is, I could be doing better. I know I could. At least, I *think* I know. The *other* problem with me is that I don't know what the hell I want to do. If someone offered me a million dollars to just figure out what I want to do with my life, I'd be broke. If someone put a gun to my head and asked the same question, I'd be dead.

It's pitiful really.

There's another song quote that I think about often. It's from that Harvey Danger song 'Flagpole Sitta.' The one that the guy above me in the barracks at Fort Campbell used to play loudly and repeatedly when it came out: 'If you're bored than you're boring.'

Which is probably true. 'I'm not sick, but I'm not well...'

Goalll!

One of my goals for this summer -- now that I am blissfully out of school and with a theoretical large amount of free time -- is to blog regulary. In order to give myself a concrete goal to work towards, my idea of 'regularly' is 4 times a week. That's do-able, right?

Well maybe not now because I am *so tired* and only have the energy to drag myself to the computer to type these few words. Hey, I didn't say they had to be *good* post, right?

So long....

What do I get for just showing up?

I had real great plans for my triumphant return to my blog. But, alas! Now that I'm here, sitting at the computer, I don't really feel like it. I don't feel like trying to be creative or clever or witty or interesting -- not that I am those things normally, but especially not at this moment.

Oh, well. There's always tomorrow.

The DH is currently watching the sanitized, AMC version of 'Apocalypse Now.' I am not. It's not that I don't want to watch it, it's just that I don't want to watch it. Part of it is because I have to get up early and go to work tomorrow, so I don't want to get started watching this long (3+ hours?) movie.

The other part is that I saw the movie not too long after it came out (on video) as a kid and it kinda scarred me for life. There was no way my dad should've let me watch it. I was pretty young, 8 or 9 maybe. The only thing I remember about the movie is the bull-hacking scene that totally freaked me out. It was pretty graphic (I think I read somewhere they filmed an actual animal sacrifice) and I think I could tell. It definitely wasn't 'moviefied,' even if it was staged.

That's the only real memory I have of the movie. I don't want to re-watch it partly because I don't want to witness the bull death again, and part of it is 'cuz I don't want to ruin my memory of it. It's a pretty vivid memory (the horror, the horror!); one of the few I have where I can sort of still feel what I felt at the time.

Once I watch the movie again, it'll obscure my original memory, my original feelings. At least that's what I'm afraid of. It won't have the original impact anymore.

It seems like I spend so much of my life kind of numb and out of it. No, I *do* spend most of life kind of numb. It seems a shame to erase real feelings, even if they're only remembered ones.