I was forced awake before the alarm this morning by a rude tenant who thought not having power in her bathroom was an emergency. Stupid woman, at 5 A.M. NOTHING is an emergency. Oh, your ass is on fire? Well sit in a bucket and call me after 8 A.M. thankyouverymuch. *yawns*
Of course, hearing me up the hamster started to yip and yap so that was settled. I was up for the duration. Now, let me tell you the Mystery Date the Pixie pulled from the transporter yesterday.....*drum roll* ADHD Hamster. I wish I was kidding. Here is just a snippet of the conversation I imagine is going on in his head:
"Oh boy oh boy oh boy FOOD! No, that's not food, what IS that? Wait, what's that mean Momma? "Roxie will smoosh a hamster? What? EEEEEEK! RUN RUN RUN What WAS that? Rug! It looked at me funny, GRRRRRR, Pounce, must Pounce! Run! Weeeeee, wait! WALL! BREAKS! Food!? Toes! Nom nom nom oh look SOCK! Grrrrr"
Seriously, this has been going on for nearly 15 hours. Now, I know this animal needs exercise DESPRATLY, but really? Do they make Ritalin for dogs? At the vet the other day and the receptionist told me that a female dog can have several eggs fertilized over several days by several different male dogs. I don't know how accurate the RECEPTIONIST is but if this is indeed true, it would explain A LOT! I swear to you the hamster has to be part Jack Russell. The older he gets the more hyper he gets. Poodle my Aunt Fanny! He is a Hamjack. A Russter? Whatever, he is a freakin ADHD Alien Hamster off his meds. Lucky for him he slept through the night and was a relatively good boy this morning. Though my door mat looks like it's been put through a shredder. Guess it looked at him funny again. It really needs to stop doing that.
Today I'm grateful for:
Kelly being OK. I'm taking it 24 hours at a time. She texted me "I love you too. I'm still alive. At least for now" and I know she talked to her sister last night. I'll take it. Now I'm just waiting patiently for her next text.
Prayers. I got a voice mail from Pastor Ken and an email from John. They helped more than I thought they would. This praying stuff is still new to me. I honestly didn't see how someone praying for me could make me feel better. This is another thing you can add to the "I'm OK with being wrong" list.
Fakes. I found out the Free Coach Purse is a knock off. Serial number NT-4908. I kinda got a clue when the purse was made of vinyl and in Korea but the serial number validated my conclusion. Funny, it makes me like it better. It's more.....Me.
Mini-Moo cards. I totally wasted $24.99 on myself. I bought myself some business cards. Do I need them? Nope, I just want them. They are pretty and have my photos on them and I'm worth $25. Merry Christmas to me.
Roxie not squishing the hamster. This morning he decided it would be a good idea to try and chew on her rear tire. I warned him, he kept at it. Before I could jump off the stationary beast she fell over and nearly smooshed him. I'm sorry but it was funny as hell. He sounded like a squeaky toy as he sprinted down the hall, lost traction on the wood floor and thumped into the wall at the other end. Hey, he didn't get hurt!
It reminds me and it restores me. My sharpie may not be full, but it is refilling. Thanks to kittens, friends and prayers.
Hamjacks/Russters. Whatever you want to call them. They rock. 2 mornings I've been desperate for a laugh, 2 mornings Roy delivered. No matter how many puddles and piles, no matter how many door mats bested or socks shredded, I am grateful for the newest member of the Reed clan. He is very.....Us
my husband. Yesterday was the 15th and my husband did what he does every single 1st and 15th of the month. He pays the bills. MOST times without complaint. Occasionally, if I've been particularly bad for a particularly long time he will make noise, but normally he just does it without fuss or fanfare. As I watched him last night it struck me. He SHOULD have fanfare. He SHOULD get a freaking parade with balloons and floats and cheerleaders with Pompoms and confetti every damn time he does it. HE is the reason we have the life we do. Yeah, yeah, I work but even when I was making good money the only bills I was ever responsible for were child care and groceries. I am the caretaker of our life but he is producer. HE is the reason we have a comfortable home w/ power, water and free internets. HE is the reason we live in a nice neighborhood, safe and insulated from the darker aspects of life. HE is why I drive a Mustang, have a big pink bike and more toys to play with than any grown woman needs. Oh, and don't even get me started on the Pixie and her room *whistles and rolls eyes* Why does he do it? Does he have to? Is he forced by law or perhaps a gun to his head? Of course not. He does it because he WANTS to. Yeah, can you believe it? He WANTS to provide this life for his family for no other reason than he loves us. Damn right he deserves a parade! Oh, but he ain't gonna get one. Hell if I'm gonna clean up that mess. I will however IMAGIN it for him. *throws confetti and imagines smokin hot cheerleaders w/ Pompoms cheering "give me a D! Give me an A!*
my mom. Yes, again. She just sent me a beautiful email. I called Kelly intending on leaving it on her voice mail as a treat. Shock of shockers, she was awake and I read it to her. She and I both cried happy tears. I'll bet the first happy tears my daughter has cried in a long time. Grandma love may not heal a broken heart but it sure is one hell of a band-aid. I love my mom to bits and pieces.
feeling good. The dark clouds have passed. At least for now. For anyone out there reading this list off a friend of a friend of a friends page or even accidently stumbled into this blog, if you're struggling, if you're hurting or even feeling a little blue, I urge you to find something to be grateful for. I promise the universe will take note and it will change your life. "cross my heart and hope to die"