It's been a week...one that requires a beer. Or three.

I always make my bed in the morning, I've done this since I was a teen. Mainly because the lady told me I had to but I liked crawling in to a made bed at the end of the day anyway. For some unknown reason I recently got away from that practice for a short while. I don't know the reason why. Laziness maybe. Maybe I just stopped caring about how wonderful it feels to get in to a made bed. I had a string of bad weeks during this unmade bed phase of my life so I started making my bed in the mornings again.  What a blessed difference!

I also always believed that how we begin our day is how our day proceeds and ends. If we start our day in chaos, an unmade bed for instance, it sets the tone for the rest of the day. Starting the day off with an organized state of mind correlates to a happier disposition and less negative energy.  Making my bed every morning sets my day up for positive, organized energy. I'm a minimalist as well. In some aspects. I have the bare minimum of kitchen gadgets and appliances. My living areas are tidy and everything has a place and there is a place for everything. Very little clutter. Now, part of the excess in my life (the clutter) is found in my bathroom. I can open my very own Bath & Body Works store. And mail. I'm not very good at checking my mail. And when I do check my mail I don't open anything. Well, rarely. Most of my mail can be found in various piles and stacks on multiple surfaces of the house. The dining room table. The desk. Coffee table. Kitchen bar. Pick it.

So I'v e had a week. Life has been an emotional challenge the past eight days. I've been sad, scared, anxious, sad, heartsick, glum, depressed, sad.... mostly sad. I've cried so much this past week and am near tears now just dwelling on the events surrounding this life upset. The events that bring this sadness is extremely personal and not something I will discuss openly. Not from shame but rather the need for some level of privacy. It's a very tough thing to speak about, a family matter, and not really a tale that's mine to tell though I'm immersed in the drama.

And no, it isn't Huck. He remains a constant wonderful reminder that love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  Love never fails. I know he's worried he wasn't there for me as much as he could have been the last half of the week but I felt mostly fine with his expected absence. I had one brief moment of crazy but I was able to redirect my feelings. Besides, I had Lulu to bring me back from the brink that time.  She was exactly what I needed that moment.

One thing I realize that has changed about me is I'm not the demanding, needy, pain in the ass I used to be. I still surprise myself by how much I've grown in this relationship. Huck doesn't have to be at my side every waking moment to tell me he loves me and cares for me. I know he does. He's amazing that way. I have no doubts about him. Not a one. Though someday, when we decide to cohabitate, his being right by me every waking moment will not be a terrible thing.  Not on your life!

Today's reminder...don't sweat the small stuff.

Naive...yeah, probably most days.

I received the strangest phone call from a toll free number today. I do not normally answer unidentified numbers, toll free or not, but took a call today out of curiosity. The same number had been phoning in for a couple days a few times a day but never left a message. I should have gone with my gut and continued to ignore it but curiosity got me and I still have a few lives left. The gentleman on the other end was polite and asked me to verify my name so I did. Then he recited my number and I immediately asked, "You dialed a different number?" I began to smell fish.

So he said a few things then asked me for my T-Mobile account number. Um, no you may not have my account number. I recently dumped AT&T after 16 years of loyal patronage. That's a story in itself. Anywho, this guy was trying to get my T-Mobile account number to complete MY request to transfer to Boost Mobile. Um, no again. The fish is getting smellier. He insisted I made the request. I insisted he was wrong. He insisted again he has my request. I insist he is wrong again. Then he asked if he could put me on hold. I said, "What the hell for?" He wanted to speak to his manager...again, what the hell for? I basically said he'd be wasting my time and his. I did not and will not transfer to Boost since I just transferred to T-Mobile and to please never call me again. Yes, I was that nice. He stammered. Here's another one of those jackholes that keep pushing because he doesn't understand, NO. I passed the gullible test with this adventure. The fish was definitely rotten.

Other times not so much...

Today I was the victim of office shenanigans. As I was yesterday. And the day before. Not Steve-O and Bam from Jackass shenanigans but still...my Achilles Heel-benefit of the doubt-always reigns.  Yes, I'm gullible because the trickster is the master bullshitter and I can never tell if I'm being played like a well tuned fiddle or if our office conversations are indeed true and trustworthy. Then, THEN, he drags others into his shenanigans. For a split second today I felt like a total asshole. Thankfully I was let off the hook. But what do I do to retaliate? I bake effing bad ass brownies.  I at least hope they came out bad ass. LOL!

Baking is my therapy. Some will argue it's a bottle of wine. others will claim is all that foo-foo beer I like. Nope, it's baking. I jokingly tell folks feeding them my baked delights is my sick and twisted way of getting everyone chubby so I look thinner. Not really an accurate reason why I bake. I am, by nature, a nurturer though. The lady trained me from a very early age how to cook, clean, raise kids, and take care of a man. That was the lady's only true desire, for me to meet a doctor or lawyer, give her grand babies, and have Tupperware parties or some shit. I can do all of it. But I choose not to do ALL of it.

I love being a mom, I love taking care of my man, I do love to cook and bake. Baking and cooking relaxes me. It's not about the final product. I'm kinda weird about my baking more than my cooking. I know I can bake. I know most stuff I bake is good, even great sometimes. The reason I bake is because its my mind's way of putting things in order. I need that order occasionally to get the rest of my thoughts back into proper place. I measure, mix, stir and sift. All the ingredients are placed into a dish or scooped onto a sheet and stuck in the oven for a predetermined amount of time. And the result? I am relaxed and the house smells amazing! Then I get to feed people because I can't keep all that sweet deliciousness in my house!

And that makes me feel joy...to see people devour the delectable devilish delightful treats I slaved over a hot oven to create.

Beer, beer, the magical fruit. Work rant. And come fly with me...

I like to drink beer. Not as much as I enjoy drinking wine of course. Beer is cool, refreshing, and sometimes tastes like manna. I picked up a 12 pack of Sam Adams summer variety the other day. I've had the regular old Boston lager, the summer lager, the Belgian session, and now the Blueberry Hill lager. No. I didn't partake all of them tonight. I only had two-well, I'm on my second now. Drinking on school nights is not a regular part of my schedule but I've faced some challenges this week so far. I'm feeling entitled to kick back and enjoy my brew. Or two. Beer has been brewed for it's intoxicating affect since 4000 years BC (or BCE for our non-Christian folks y'all) from a bread like pulp. The Germans later introduced hops. My favorite types of beer are either the unfiltered cloudy wheat beers that are normally sweet and fruity or the hoppy variety that is basically the complete opposite of a wheat beer. Hoppy beer, or ale, provide a bitter bite which is quite an acquired taste. I was of the Miller Lite and Coors Light school for many, many years. Why? It is reasonably priced and always available. By gosh it is refreshing on a hot summer day too. My point to this ramble...I like beer!

The work I do is normally satisfying and rewarding. I enjoy it most days but occasionally I speak with someone that really doesn't deserve my time or gray matter. How many ways can you tell someone no? No you cannot have your way. No you cannot make your own rules. No you cannot continue to be an ass for no other reason than to just be one. Once in a while I get that genius sucking asshole on the phone and feel the life being sucked out of me like the asthmatic girl in that horrible movie Nightmare on Elm Street. That's when uber bitch mode switches on. I hate having to use uber bitch. She comes out then I can't get rid of her. I become overly nice and condescending to the point you think I'm actually giving in to your stupid, unwarranted demands. Uh, no. You do what I tell you to do or you get nothing! LOL!

Rant over! It's killing my slight beer buzz...

I have to say, this year so far has been a challenge. I've had some minor fiscal ups and downs and nothing seems to come easy with regard to the needs of my son. Most days I'm good. Most. But c'mon? For example, how many people do you know had their identity stolen three years ago and NOW all of a sudden can't file a tax return electronically like a normal person? Sheesh! You coulda told me that three months ago IRS when you accepted my electronic return!! Anyway, there is one thing so far this year that has been steady and true and the most joyful experience of my life. The easiest part of my life has been my darling, handsome, incredibly awesome, Huck. This man can bring me back from the darkest places with his smile and the twinkle in his eyes! Seriously. Just a minute with him and that soothing sexy radio DJ voice changes my mood instantly. I bask! I'm basking now! I may pop. Everyday my heart skips a beat with his smile and touch. Everyday I feel butterflies. When he kisses me I fly over the moon. This man loves me and I can't be any luckier!

Last summer I had the most ridiculous hair disaster any girl should ever have to suffer through. I've since gotten a handle on the situation and now am opting for a shade very close to my natural color. I had been using the same shade for a while then switched. Opted for something a little lighter with a little reddish tone to it. Yeah, I know. After that crazy orange hair bit I was afraid but it was ok. I've got a HUGE couple of weekends coming up and needed to get my hair did again. Nothing is more mortifying to an aging 40-something year old woman than seeing white hairs sprout from her noggin. My son gave his input on a new shade and it's, well, dark. Just a slight level darker than my natural hair but dark. I've been called Joan Jett, Goth, Black Stallion, and WIB (I just learned what this meant a bit ago). Here's what I say to that...