2:30 a.m.

sky
That’s right. Two thirty. Dark outside. Family sleeping. Cats sleeping. Normal people sleeping.

It has been a strange ten days since I last wrote, here. After eight months of me applying to many, many jobs, suddenly within a 24 hour period of time, three people think I may be employable. I don’t want to go into details quite yet, or maybe ever. The interweb is a vast place and a person isn’t so hard to find out about. Not that I have anything to hide, of course. OF COURSE. I’m a mother, for chrissake. How bad can I be? I’m more baffled at the timing of the responses to my resumes and online applications is all. Feast or fucking famine. But that’s always the case with jobs isn’t it? This year isn’t exactly the greatest time to be looking for work. There are jobs. But there are more people applying for these jobs at this moment in time than there are normally. Duh. I know, it’s called a recession. I had a woman from a local public television station call me in response to my cover letter and resume a few weeks back who said over two hundred people applied to the job I had responded to. I told her I was surprised how quickly she responded to my application and she said the last minuted-ness of my submission worked in my favor (I guess she’d had an ad for the job up for weeks or months). And she thought my resume was clean and the cover letter well-written, too. I might’ve pursued this position, because it did sound cool, but the location was outside Baltimore city proper, probably 45 or so minutes away. And that’s just too far considering the ladies also have to be dropped at their preschool beforehand. Plus they needed someone right away. Plus it was full-time and I am really trying not to traumatize them more than necessary this coming fall. Three full days will be plenty at first, which is what it will be come September. Woah. We’re all gonna need help with that transition.

Here are some of the reasons I haven’t had a chance to write much lately:

  1. The girls have been napping only sporadically, and I frequently stay out later in the afternoons because I just don’t feel like forcing them to sleep. Though they will pass out in the car if it is between 1:3o and 4. So if we are out, sometimes I just drive around and listen to the radio for some time to myself. Hard to type and drive at the same time.
  2. I got some crazy kind of 24 hour stomach flu which took me down hard for, um, 24 hours.
  3. Then after the freakish unsolicited cleansing, my brain followed with a full on migraine which lasted two days, and would probably still be in my head now if it weren’t for pseudoephedrine, which now must be purchased from the pharmacy because a bunch of meth doo doo heads ruined this excellent decongestant for the rest of us.
  4. Feast of job possibilities. Then trying to figure out the best scenarios for getting girls to and from childcare.
  5. Two pool outings. With the ladies, who I now know love the baby pool. I managed to get a terrible sunburn on my back on the first pool outing because I am not used to exposing my body to the sun. I actually forgot that I didn’t put sunscreen on my now peeling back. Yuck and owie.
  6. Went to the aquarium where Beenie did not try to jump into a large tank, thankfully, but where Mimi, who now doesn’t listen to me for a cottonpickin’ second ever, anywhere, ran way way far ahead of me while I was also trying to keep an eye on Beenie and it was fucking crowded and I don’t know what to do with that child. One thing I do know, though, is I’m not taking her there or anywhere without lots of extra grownups. We’re hitting the zoo Tuesday and she will be strapped into the stroller if she runs away from me again. I hate that, I fucking hate it. She could get lost or hurt and she thinks it is a big game and I feel completely powerless. I need a book to deal with this situation. I haven’t needed a book for a few years now. But this issue I don’t have the type of common sense knowledge to fix. I am considering some kind of invisible fence scenario for this wayward child.
  7. Moved the octopus painting to my brother’s place so I could actually work on it. Now that my studio no longer exists, there may be a number of satellite, temporary studios popping up at people’s houses in the area, depending on how long these imaginary people can watch my children while I inhale turpentine fumes and mush around a bunch of oil paint with a brush.

It is now 3:00 a.m. The decongestant is keeping me up. I knew it would.

I haven’t had any alcohol in a week. I can’t remember why. It isn’t like I am a lush or anything, but I do like a cocktail every few nights after Mimi and Beenie retire for the evening. Which has been kind of late lately. Why did I stop, anyway? Just lost a taste for the stuff. Booze is a strange thing. Such beautiful stemware, bottles, limes, lemons, cranberry juice, seltzer… mmmm. The accoutrements surrounding a cocktail is what makes it so special. As my dear husband likes to say, when he occasionally embibes, “I’m going to mix myself a liquor drink”. He’s partial to the gin and tonic in the summertime, and when the weather changes, a thimblefull of good scotch does the trick. I’m a scotch fan, too, since a dab really will do ya. Just a taste. My summer drink of late has been a nice vodka drink. Just one. Fruity, refreshing, sometimes with a straw. It is nice to have a summer drink.

Don’t I have some special story to relay to you, my handful of readers? Precious handfull. Got through the NY Times magazine today. That’s something. Chilled out in the house today since yesterday was jam packed. Sundays should be spent quietly. There’s a meditation center nearby that I am considering as a possible place to visit once a week or so. I have never meditated, but think it would be really hard to sit still in quiet and focus on something without sleeping, which is why it seems enticing to me. I would like my head to be a quiet place. Quietly chaotic is fine, too. I’m missing the quiet part, tho. And I know it is in there. I sort of meditated today when I went to the gym. My three month summer membership is up in a month. When I actually make it there it is enjoyable. An hour of rowing or doing the eliptical thing, doing a few of the circuit training machines or the bike. Then some stretches and sit ups. Nothing fancy. Sometimes I’ll even do a little jump rope. My brain does have the occasion to empty and then refill with the nice chemicals that make me feel good and kind of dreamy. I like those chemicals. Who doesn’t?

The deadline for entering some work in the Maryland Council for the Arts individual grant application looms. I think it is less than a week, now. Good thing I waited till the last minute. Again. And wonder why I bother. Then figure I have nothing to lose. Maybe I’ll create some little watercolors or collages special for the submission, what with all the extra time I have. Shit. I’m awake at 3 something in the morning. I should do it now. Or I should go back to bed. Bed. I like bed. Nighty night.

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3 Comments

  1. It sounds a little barbaric, but my 2 year old loves his monkey “backpack,” which is actually a leash. We don’t use it unless he’s getting a bit wild, and you should see the looks we get, but do I care? Do I, heck.

    1. i believe it every parent’s right to leash up their child, especially the wayward ones. i am quite familiar with the monkey “backpacks”, and purchased two of them once the ladies began to walk almost two years ago. you might be right, it may be time to re-ignite an old flame for miss Mimi, wayward monkey. where did i put those darned leashes, anyway?!

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