Grape Did It

A buzzing cherry on top

My work day started at 7:30, did not stop for lunch and barreled right through to 4:45. I told Summer, as we were talking on the way home, I realize 4:45 isn't so late to leave work, but when your head has been bent over a keyboard for 9 hours straight, you begin to forget there's a whole wide world out there. Stepping outside is something like leaving a theater, and you look at the cherry blossoms like, whoa, there's such a thing as small, soft, pink petals in the world? I thought it was all dingy carpets and beat up filing cabinets. MY GOD THE BEAUTY.

Even so, even after crunching the time I had at work like it's never been crunched before. Even after limiting my bathroom and breathing breaks, even after resisting the temptation to stand up and holler, YOU'RE KIDDING ME, RIGHT? THIS IS ALL A PRACTICAL JOKE? I STILL left more work on my desk than I should have and I'll tell you how I know it's more than I should have left. Because it's about the amount I left Friday and even writing this is making my heart start to pound, ever so slightly more, because, because, IT WON'T END. Until this job is done, in a blessed few weeks. And then, woman with a new baby who I subbed in for? IT'S ALL YOURS. You can thank me for the back log later.

And so at 4:45 I finally packed it in because what's another tough day? At least this time I didn't cry and believe me, there were moments. I consider that progress. I walked out to the truck, looking forward to my new cd, the sweet, sweet sound of songs I haven't grown tired of yet. I noticed all the pollen on the cars that looks nasty but at least means spring! is! here!

And then saw the mosquitoes. Getting it on, on my driver side window. Tough day? They seemed to say. Here, let us rub it in.

Not a natural number cruncher

On Friday, the stress culminating from a job that I neither understand nor can keep up with, combined with the fact that THIS WORK MUST GET DONE, left me a crying mess at my desk. All of the, "it's just a job," and the "it's ok, no really," don't help when piles of paper remain unless, and until, I do them. Even if they make no sense, even if people keep coming in to remind me, somewhat sternly, you made another mistake and it will be difficult to correct.

And so I found myself sitting in front of a confusing and archaic billing screen Friday afternoon, half an hour after I should have been on the road home. On my way to get a glass of wine, some food and sleep, for sure. Instead, one of my new coworkers came in and told me I needed to leave,

"Hope, you need to go,"

"But I can't. If I don't get this done today I'll only be even more behind Monday."

"What's it going to help? No one is here to sign off on your work, you can only do so much tonight anyway,"

And that is when, in a moment of total embarrassment, my face crumpled into a kitchen-witch contortion, (side note: did anyone else have a mother who kept a kitchen witch? My mom's was covered in pantyhose which made her look all the more scary.) and I started to cry. No matter how hard I jammed my fingers into my eyes, I could not hide that I was completely spent and had no more Mask Of Calmness for this office. And the worst part? The part I keep running through my head as I get ready for another week? Is that IT'S JUST A DAMN TEMP JOB. I should not be taking it so seriously. I should realize, even if the billing is entirely falling apart when I leave, that it's all, See you later bitches! This is NOT my real job! But not taking ENTIRE ownership of something has never been my strength and this job MUST BE DONE. So help me God or the world will fall apart.

My coworker, the one who has been bailing me out on a regular basis and may be perhaps the nicest person I have ever met in my life, hurried to shut the door and then explained over and over that no matter what, we'd get it all done together, on Monday. And I know that should have been comforting but, well, it was. But what it also felt like is admitting defeat. That I cannot learn a job in 3 weeks, and it just feels lame.

Daily photo notes, Item Week

This week, Daily Photo pictures will all be Items. I'll call it, Item Week. Things I have recently bought, received as gifts, or just something in our house I love. I have put the photos together already and realize the common thread is getting a small thrill when I see or use them. It could be for reasons of practicality, attractiveness, price or, hopefully, all three together. That. That is badass. And you know it.

Friday at Five: Martini (the real one)

So, yeah, on a recommendation I went and made GIN martini's the other night and would you know it? They are wonderful. Nothing like their sad cousin vodka martini's. It is as if the gin is made for a martini which sends me right down the road to things about originals and not messing with a good thing and why do you think the gin is the traditional one in the first place, you idiot? And other obnoxious cliches.

For now though, I have a new favorite drink. Well, ok, I won't get that carried away because where there is cheap wine to be had, I am a cheap wino.

Bud does not like gin, will not even try it, so I asked him to pick up a small bottle of something relatively cheap at the ABC. Meaning, what's the point of having a big bottle of something you won't drink and likely, nor will I? (This was before I realized that a martini made with gin is in fact quite tasty). What I did not say, what I did not mean, was get me the CHEAPEST bottle you can find. But when he walked in the door with a laugh and said, "check it out, it was FOUR DOLLARS!" I figured I was in for a bad, bad night. The kind that forces you to call in to work the next day, trying hard to create sick-talk into the phone to your boss, "I won't cough be in today moan crinkle tissue." Surprisingly, or maybe because I don't know how it's supposed to taste, this gin wasn't half bad.

This is why I work at a metal production plant, to support my habit

Gin has a pine-y taste to it and I have noticed this before, the other two times I've had gin. A background Christmas tree taste, though I have never been able to put my finger on it. Which is why when Bud said, "you know they make gin from pine trees?" I was all, I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I LOVE BEING RIGHT EVEN IF IT'S JUST IN MY SUB-CONSCIOUS.  Here is where I would put a picture of a pine tree, if I had Photoshop or something, but I don't, so stare at these floating olives instead. Mmmm.

Gin Martini:
Splash of Vermouth
Ice
Gin
Olives
Olive juice (I made mine dirty)

I had one, hm wait, no maybe two. This was last week and I'm trying to remember details. Anyway, it is strong like any martini would be. Like any drink would be when the other main ingredient is ice. Not that I am warning you in a guidance counselor kind of way, but more to say, hey! if you operate heavy machinery on a regular basis THIS MIGHT NOT BE THE DRINK FOR YOU.

Stating the obvious, even in this title

I took the dogs on a walk after work today and as we rounded the last corner, we passed a group of 10-ish year old kids. Who made some startlingly observations:

"That dog is cute."

"Look at his little feet,"

"I love your dog's little feet."

(Me) "Yeah, she has short legs,"

"Haha, short legs,"

"If it were MY dog, I'd call her Short Legs."

Good one. Does your mom hang your pictures on the fridge? 

Daily photo notes

I realize today's Daily Photo is kind of blurry but I couldn't help posting when I saw the look Emeric was giving the camera in this photo. He's all, the hell? 

As for Bud's golf picture, I know it is not chubby baby cheeks, but eh, he's cute too. I'll have to caption later, as I am adjusting to being on a different computer this morning. THANKS A LOT CAMERA. I need to let go of the camera-anger.

Hold that thought, while I disconnect you

There was a moment, no, I'm sorry that's a total lie. There was a ten minute stretch today at work where I just stared at the phone and let it ring. And ring. And ring it's your-mother-was-a-goat head off. I did not care that the people calling were really probably innocent, had no idea I'd been there since 7:30 with a frozen look on my face that said, "Inside I am scared to death of this job and all the mistakes I know I have been making, but this face, this face is plastered into a look of nonchalance." Which even that is probably a lie because someone told me to breathe yesterday. Someone at work who might have thought she was helping but will also wonder why it is always her helpful ass who gets her tires slashed in the company parking lot. CONDESCENSION DOES NOT GO UNNOTICED. And if you come at me with ONE MORE LECTURE on what I should be paying special attention to, I will OFFICE SPACE YOUR COPIER.

Picture, if you will, that certain someone in your life who gently reminds you of all you should be doing. Now picture that same person thrusting out her breasts as she walks down the hallway to give you these reminders. Now picture that same person talking very closely to your face such that you aren't sure whether to back up or lean in for a kiss. THAT is my helpful coworker.

And so, yes, I stared at the phone as it rang and imagined scenarios where I might snatch it up and say something like, CAN'T A GIRL EAT HER LUNCH IN PEACE? NO? Then watch me NOT transfer you. That is called power. I have no idea why my job position is back-up to the receptionist and if you think you are frustrated, imagine that frustration coupled with a phone ringing every, oh, two minutes.

Here's my favorite scenario:

"Blankety Industries."

"Hey, um, can I get connected to someone in sales?"

"Sure, can I get your name and company name?"

"Joe Smith with United Steel Iron,"

"Ok, one second, I'll connect you."

"Hey, uh, boob-thruster-outer? I have Joe Smith with United Steel Iron."

"Uh. Um. Huh. I wonder who that is. Hm. Did he say what he wanted?"

"No, but I imagine it has to do with BUYING METAL."

"Hm. Huh. Um...shoot, I'm really busy right now."

Look, I don't care if you are giving birth and tying the cord with a shoe string AS WE SPEAK. Just say ok, or send him to voicemail. Either will do. What will not do is your irritating monologue that takes up my time for sending invoices I have, most assuredly, filled out incorrectly.

On the goodbye morning kiss

Not what I wanted to hear:

"Ooh, babe, you need chapstick, badly."

A little of this, A LOT OF THIS, as usual

I am THIS annoyed at my camera right now. It will only download the first hundred of the six thousand and forty-five pictures I took this weekend and I want to shake it and say things like, "I expected BETTER from you at this point in your life!" and, "YOU IDIOT, DOWNLOAD,". A few have and, as you can see, I have some of Ella which I am not complaining about, but those are getting added to the ever growing collection in my Ella photos. It is already pretty full.

The one I am most frustrated about is the video of Emeric doing something insanely cute, like lying in someone's arms and cooing and DID YOU SEE THAT? He COOED! Those first few milestones are so heavy with importance that you forget, sometimes, all he did was poop in his diaper. But that? That. was. SO GREAT. But it won't download. I keep plugging the white cord into the right computer hole and then sitting there, waiting. And it's all, I've already downloaded these pictures. And I'm all, I'm counting to ten and then throwing all of your sorry technological asses out the window. Later I will try on Bud's computer, but for now I have to go to work and catch up on what I missed Friday. I THINK YOU CAN GUESS HOW THAT MIGHT GO. I didn't know it in the first place, now I have two days worth to do. You might find me in the corner tonight, whispering about invoices and freight charges.

Aside from my complicated relationship with my camera, our weekend was spectacular. The ratio of baby to adult was pleasantly high, which meant I did not have to snatch a baby and hide, just so I could get my alloted cheek kissing and smooshing time. I hate to share a baby. We took  Ella golfing, where she referred to the dead grass as Beach! Beach! something I also have on video but I don't want to talk about whether it will download or not. STUPID CAMERA. And we took both Alison and Ella to the river where Guerin moo-ed at the cows trying to drink water across the bank. Guess what they did. LEFT. Turns out my brother is a cow whisperer.

We also ate. And then ate. And then I opened my mouth and Easter candy started to pour in, so, you know, my body is running like a well oiled machine right about now. Those weekends with the family, insidious. No way could I just not eat as much.

I'm thinking Daily Photos this week will all be baby, fat cheek, and chubby baby related, and I will also maybe figure out how to get this video downloaded. Though this all hinges on the fact that I am able to get through the work day today.

Friday at Five: Justification

We left Birmingham last night right after work and decided to take the BACK WAY to Virginia. That deserves a pause. A long, long one. Then we rolled into town around 1:30 in the AM and woke this morning to the sound of Ella! Ella! Ella! at, around, 7?

Point being. Friday at Five was drunk and very much enjoyed but will have to wait until next week.

But get ready for some MAJOR cheek chub and impossible cuteness coming up soon, because we are here with ALL THREE BABIES.