G’mornin!

Beautiful day! Beautiful! I’m staying home from work today! Of course that’s because there’s been a thief at my apartment this week and now my keys are gone. But, hey … if I can stay home till they change my locks, I’m all for it.

I was looking for dirty socks behind my bed yesterday when I hearda kajinkling sound from the door leading into the hall. Easy enough to identify: someone was trying their key in my lock. What a knobhead. thinks I … in only the most charitable of terms, of course. You’re either thinking you’re gonna break in, or you’re like me at times and you got off on the wrong floor and didn’t notice … in which case, you truly are the textbook example of a knobhead, bless you.

I thought no more about it.

But while getting ready to take Chutney out for her evening toilet, I became quite confused trying to find my keys. They weren’t in my coat pocket, they weren’t on my fridge, they weren’t on the chair next to the door. (No, Steve, they weren’t in my back pocket either.)

At this point, I am worried. My keys not being in any of those four places can only mean one thing: I have left them in the deadbolt on the outside of my door. Praying, I open said door. No keys.

I then remember two things in rapid and unhappy succession: the kajinkling sound of a key in the deadbolt, and the disturbing events of Monday night, when dad had left a bag of dogfood and a carton of orange juice outside my door, which were stolen within literally two minutes.

So that’s what must have happened. We have a thief on fourth floor! This annoys me, honestly. I had to wedge a chair under the knob to sleep last night, and I had to keep the phone with the emergency number pre-dialed next to my pillow. And I couldn’t fall asleep to the radio because I had to hear what was going on outside. Sheesh.

Yes? and …

You Should Be a Science Fiction Writer

Your ideas are very strange, and people often wonder what planet you’re from. And while you may have some problems being “normal,” you’ll have no problems writing sci-fi. Whether it’s epic films, important novels, or vivid comics… Your own little universe could leave an important mark on the world!

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

That would explain why I hate my 80%-finished novel. It’s really supposed to be about a girl’s struggle for normality; but when you have a would-be author who herself is straining at the seems of normality …

Space opera, here I come!

eh

I apologize ahead of time folks. Lately, I’ve been a drag. And now I need a hug and a good long cry. Recurring theme, I know: I’ll try to be more creative next time.

This day was the worst. In an absolutely pms-y sort of way. A sister yells and hangs up on me. I’ve been going non-stop all week doing other people’s jobs. I just want a day to relax. The interest on my college loan is mounting. I’m out of laundry quarters. I found disgusting stuff in my sink that smells like sour milk — I don’t have any milk, sour or otherwise. Chutney keeps peeing on the sidewalk just beyond the grass she’s supposed to be hitting. I won’t be moving to Milwaukee till next May (takes a brother to find that out because my own future employer won’t be bothered to call me to tell me what’s up). I have mail. And mail (Baptists don’t check it, remember?) I’ve called twice and this guy I need to interview for the VTR hasn’t called me back. And that’s due on the 30th. And I won’t mention the really grim stuff …

So, I rented the fourth Harry Potter and had Dad and Anna come over to watch it with me.

They both fell asleep.

And got up and left leaving their dirty dishes behind.

… Ah yes, but first, Dad read a cute little note the office girls had slipped under my door during Potter complaining about a whole list of dog owners in the building. But, I was evidently one of them. People whose dogs bark, or run around without leashes, or leave their apartments smelling like urine, or … or pee in undesignated places on the premises.

S%*@$ them. Bolt them. Drill them straight through and out the wall on the other side.

Eating with Anna

Anna got great reviews on my first podcast. Here she is for an encore performance. We’re eating at some fast-food place and we talk about lots of stuff. Most of it makes no sense at all. More Anna to come! Don’t worry!

I am Boston

I can handle this:

You Are Boston

Both modern and old school, you never forget your roots. Well educated and a little snobby, you demand the best. And quite frankly, you think you are the best. Famous people from the Boston area: Conan O’Brien, Ben Affleck, New Kids on the Block

What American City Are You?

Freak-a-Leak

I stepped into my pantry to pull out some brown sugar on Sunday and heard a soft squishing underfoot. Well now, what is that? Leaning down I found that the carpet was damp. How did Chutney get into the closed pantry? But a little sniffy-sniff assured me it was only water. I felt around the shelves and floor to see if any bottled water had spilled or anything. There was nothing dripping or leaking, so I left the pantry doors open to dry out and I forgot about it.

Until yesterday, while swooping around with the vacuum cleaner. Something possessed me upon entering the kitchen area to kick around in front of the cleaner to make sure Chutney’s rope toy was off the floor. The frayed ends of the toy could get seriously caught in the roller. So daintily, on little socked feet, I shuffled around … in a giant puddle of water. Seriously confused, I splashed the whole four feet over to the pantry. It was a swamp! the whole floor of the pantry was covered in a quarter inch of water! I had paper bags full of recyclables just soaking in it!

Then I remembered the pipe. There’s an insulated water heater pipe going through my floor in there. I couldn’t find the leak, but what else could cause a merry bubbling lake to spring out of dry carpeting?

Long story short, the maintenance guy wasn’t down there, so I called SUPER DAD to come and at least try to sponge up some of the water as I had no toweling or wet vac. Dad found the leak, we found the maintenance dude with the wet vac and the magical pipe fixer thingy, and there was a fan blow-drying my kitchen all night! That was fun.

I Love my Church

They’re moving their monthly fellowship meal up a week so they can give me a little going away party. Pastor basically mandated from the pulpit that people bring cards with green stuff in them. I could have cried right there! I love my church. I love God’s people. I didn’t expect this at all. I’m so blessed.

For an update on the job situation, please call IB**** on or about April 17. Ask for Sarah in the office. She may be able to tell you then what position they scraped up for her by that time. No promises though.

I wish I could call her now and ask if it’s worth packing up on faith and moving in with Steve. I’d ask her if she went crazy trying to clean the apartment. And did the couch fit up Steve’s stairs? I’d ask her if she and her brother are having as much fun as she expected and if Laurie really exists, or if she’s just some penniless actress Steve hired to play the part of the perfect fit for the family that we’ve dared to pray for.

I really thought I’d be more sure about all this by now. But on the other hand, I know this is what I will do. So I need to do it, come what may. I’d say God is teaching me patience. And I’d say He’s teaching me the art of resting in the knowledge that He is driving me and protecting me… but I don’t know that I’m learning that at all.

Wait. Patience? Resting in Him? Huh???

I think I should erase this now.

OK. No.

I’m thinking all wrong here.

I’m writing all wrong.

Wow!

Am I ever wrong!

Because, I know full well what I’m supposed to be doing. OK, I really do. All that patience and resting stuff … No. Deeper self-examination reveals that I’ve written that because it flows. It looks good. But, truth be told, I’m already very good at that. I am well nigh canonized sainthood based purely on that resting-in-God thing, okay?

So I don’t really need to learn patience. And certainly not the resting bit. Good grief!

And I don’t even need to learn what I’ll be doing in Milwaukee. God knows, and He thinks I can deal with it when the time comes. If I couldn’t handle it, God wouldn’t have opened that window so many times and so obtrusively!

What I need to learn is smaller than all that. It’s really small; practically bite-sized. It’s a manageable bite even. I’m supposed to go clean my house and pack my stuff. I’m supposed to go about business as normal (dishes, dog, learning a song for tonight, putting some nice music together for a friend — all that not-so-terribly difficult stuff)! And I’m to thank God for other things to do besides complain to Him that He knows something I don’t about my purpose in life.

Christ’s parable of the talents comes to mind.

Hold on.

Here it is. And it’s about servants being faithful with the small tasks they’ve been given while the big cheese was away. These servants had no idea the Master would return to reward/punish them big-time based on their faithfulness with the small stuff. The little things.

Between now and 17 April, I see an endless pathway of piddly little things to accomplish to the best of my ability. I will be faithful in them. This will help to prepare me for that bigger, harder unknown.

Busy week

Busy week. Busy month. Don’t be surprised if I don’t update till June. I’m supposed to be cleaning. I’m supposed to be going through my mail. I’d better get at conducting two interviews for the Alumni Association. I’m supposed to be packing to move. I’m supposed to be figuring out if I can indeed move to where I want to move. I’m supposed to not be stressing out at the fact that I don’t even know what job I’m getting. I’m supposed to be writing a profile to run for the Wisconsin Council of the Blind. I’m supposed to be writing another for the Alumni board. And I really ought to be learning this flute piece before I have to play it.

eheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh.

I’m gonna read a book.

Slime!

Lesson 16482 that I haven’t learned yet. I need to keep my mouth shut! Please guys, tell me to shut up if I’m saying something that sounds out of the mainstream of knowledge! PLEASE! Gossip. My mouth opens, out comes a tidbit, and I can’t take it back! Please stop me next time. I’m seriously trying to tackle this one. Please God, help me out.

Sick

I’m sick today and staying home from work. I’ve been sickish since sunday, but, now I’m really down to it. I’ve been sleeping for hours, but I’m still drained. I’m going to take some podcasts to bed with me and only get up for Chutney’s sake.

And I want Leah here for some odd reason. I just think her company would be the absolute best. But, she’s teaching. And she doesn’t read this blog, I don’t think. She’d probably have a worrying series of heart palpitations if she did. Good night, my pretties.