Winter Blows

This is the current view standing inside my front door. So grim that I didn't even have the balls to step out onto the porch or even open the storm door to take the picture. I should state for the record that the plow guy was just here not more than 20 minutes ago and the driveway has already disappeared again.

Shitfuckdamn. I hate winter.

The only thing worse than this view from inside my front door is standing there looking at it knowing that I have to go out to the supermarket. We are out of everything. Eggs, milk, orange juice, coffee creamer. The only fresh produce I have at the moment is 3 garlic bulbs and 2 Spanish onions so old they are sprouting green roots.

The only thing worse than this view and knowing that I have to go the supermarket in this mother fucking horrible weather is the thought of maneuvering a shopping cart across an icy, slushy parking lot.

You know what? We are too fat and over indulged in this house anyway. I mean these are tough times and so I need to learn to be more resourceful and make due with what I have instead of all this gross consumerism I've been willingly participating in for so long. Who needs coffee creamer when you have tea? Who needs fresh orange juice when you've got an old grape Kool-aid packet left over from 1992? Besides I just brushed my teeth, why would I want to eat onions?

I'm not leaving the house today and nothing can make me.

Stick Around for Joy

Don't get too excited. The picture above is my pipe dream - hopefully soon a reality. The before picture is the current state of our living room floor - filthy and stripped bare. The after picture is of our master bedroom floor, which was already refinished when we moved in a few years ago, but the model of what we hope the rest of the floors will look like when the job is finally completed.

Meanwhile my life is in chaos because my house is in a total fuckin' shambles. I want to move somewhere far, far away. To a place where all the rooms make sense. Where the kitchen is the kitchen and the living room doesn't echo and give me splinters.

What feels like an eternity has passed since my darling decided to rip out the nasty carpets in our house. It was a spur of the moment decision even though we have always planned to refinish the floors in our house. We just hadn't planned to start ripping up carpet that very second.

He is not typically a man of action. In fact most of the time he mainly stays very still, so I don't know what came over him. At the time (Labor Day weekend) because he was supposed to be simply shampooing the carpets, I was thoroughly prepared for a carpet cleaning project. We moved all of the furniture and breakable items out of the way and created a situation that I thought would be temporary, like for one day.

I left him alone with the shampoo-er machine for less than 5 minutes and returned to find him wild-eyed and grinning, on his hands and knees, looking up at me and barking proudly "Look at this! - These floors are perfect, why didn't we do this before??"

Because you need a plan crazyman.

To be honest, at first I was kind of excited to finally get the wheels in motion, but that was a few weeks ago and at this point I am tired of living like an animal. Meanwhile, the estimates have all come in, a deposit has been paid and the job has been scheduled - in another 4 weeks.

So I am writing to you now from a cramped space that I have carved out for myself in the office by moving several large piles of crap. I'm going to post some pictures tonight and reassure you that I haven't dropped off the face of the planet. It's just difficult to get in the post writing zone when I'm drowning underneath all of the crap piles.

Here is what used to be my kitchen, filled with all of the crap from what used to be the dining room and some of the crap that used to be the living room... and some other crap that I have just started piling on top of it because I have no fucking idea where to put it anymore...

Here is what used to be the entry way filled with more of some of the crap that used to be in the living room. We have to tilt the pizza boxes to get them through the door. What? You think I'm going to try to cook something in this shithole?

Here is some of the crap I had to move to get into the office, including the ever present shop vac... like those American Express ads, it's everywhere I want to be...

Here is one of the few rooms in the house I can stand to be in... our lovely empty dining room...

Ole! Ole! I Have Nothing Good To Say...

There is still no word about the job I was interviewing for so hot and heavy last week. Basically I'm pacing around the house, cooking random shit that nobody here needs to be eating, like cookies, brownies and for some reason, I guess to counteract all of the sugar or perhaps because I watched the movie Selena yesterday, guacamole. In addition, I've been cleaning cleaning cleaning.

I haven't been this crazed in quite awhile. I guess I'm getting a lot of housework and laundry done but I'm about ready to drop kick the cat if he doesn't leave the fucking Christmas tree alone. At first it was cute, but after having straightened out the tree skirt for the kabillionth time and busting him drinking the tree water every time I walk through the living room, I'm seriously considering taking the goddamn tree down and beating him with it.

Anyway... this is the post you get today. Grumpy, self loathing but sparkling and disinfected with a hint of cilantro and lime.

I suppose technically that now would be a perfect time for a party. The house is clean, I've got plenty of food, but I don't think I could be a very good hostess right now.

Happy f-ing holidays.