You Like Me. You Really Like Me!

I feel like Sally Field because you really like me! Now I’m going to go watch “Smokey and the Bandit”.

The results are in.

On a day when I was feeling particularly empowered, and my husband was especially encouraging the night before, I invited people I knew to view my blog.  At least I think he was.  He said something about my blog.  That’s encouraging, right?  I sent him a link to it because he’d never seen it.  And the more I thought about it after he went to bed, the more I thought that maybe I don’t need to be totally anonymous.  I had already set up the page for total strangers.

The reason for my anonymity once again ties into my anxiety.  That someone somewhere that already knew me was going to tell someone else who used to know me that I ranted about them online or something like that.  And they’d come burn down my house.  Or that I’d accidentally offend someone. Then I realized that the only one I’m probably really going to offend is my husband (would he REALLY be offended about me talking about his zest for meat?)

It’s been a tough couple of years.  Social anxiety manifests itself in different ways in different people.  For awhile I felt like everyone I ran into was either judging me or hating me.  Lately I tend to run from people because I either don’t remember their name (I’m allowed because I’m ADD dammit!) or because it’s really hard to be upbeat when people ask me if I’ve found a full-time job yet.  Let me share how I feel about my job search as of late.  Imagine me saying this is in a sing songy voice with a great big Cheshire cat grin:  “Why no, as a matter of fact I’ve run out of jobs to apply for because I suck so much that jobs I’ve put my resume in for have been reposted so they can hire someone else.  Rejection is SO FUN!”  And then all my teeth break from forcing the smile.

So naturally when people say “Hey you should blog” I think “What the hell is so interesting about my life?”  But I AM good with the written word.  If it weren’t for my ability to write, I probably really would be sad and not wise because I would be good at NOTHING.  Writing has gotten me some places.  I do believe I can bs my way through just about anything if I can write it down.  The only reason I made it into the music education program at Lord Valdemort College (the one that shall not be named, of course.  See what I did there?)  was because I had to write a paper to get in.  If I could do that then there may really be something to it.

And my Facebook friends like my blog.  Some have even said it’s funny.  And also some people not related to me like it.  That’s good.  That’s very good.  It’s good to have something to feel good about.

You like me, you really like me.  So I’ll keep it up.  I started a notebook of ideas of things I can blog about.  Once I lose the notebook we’ll see what happens.  I do have stories.  And I have kids.  And I’m ADD, which I’m told is actually a sign of being creative or something.  So keep reading.  And I’ll try really hard to keep giving you something to read.

Truths of My Household: Random Observations of a Tired Mom

I find the following in my life to be true at the moment:

If a woman gets up at the crack of dawn to do any sort of exercise without distraction, the preschooler in the house knows it and will get up too.

There is no surface in the state of Iowa that my seven year old has not licked.

The state of my house is rapidly deteriorating.  I think there is a mathematical formula in there about the age of your children being inversely proportional to the cleanliness of the house.

If I would take the time to clean out my car, there would no longer be any starving children in China.  I believe there is enough uneaten food in the backseat to solve that problem.

The more I sleep, the more tired I am.  The less I sleep, well…

My children watch too much TV.  My seven year old son can tell you all about any drug they are currently marketing.  He wanted me to know that the shingles virus was already inside me.

No matter how clean your floor is your cat will puke on it.

If I recycled all the pop cans in my house and reused the aluminum from them, I think I could build a small car.

My children’s rooms are like a roach motel for everything.  It goes in but it never leaves.

If you are trying to get out of your house in a rush that is the day you will lose your keys.

The laundry hamper is five feet from the shower.   Why is that so hard to understand?

Why is it that we go through so much toilet paper, yet no one in this house actually seems to use it??

The more laundry I have to do, the more I admire nudists.

If you put your winter clothes away, it will get cold.  Then as soon as you pull them back out, it will ninety degrees.

The more I am away from my house, the less time I have to clean it.  The more I am home, the less motivation I have to clean it.

If it’s supposedly good for you, wait awhile, they’ll prove that it’s not.

My life is an endless string of dirtiness.  Dirty is the new clean.

The Barbie house is the melting pot of our household.  She turns away nobody.  Everything from My Little Ponies to plastic bugs go there to hang out.