Monday, March 30, 2009

Hey there, remember me?

Sorry I've been so terrible to you kids lately! You've done nothing but shower me with affection and praise, and I've been neglecting you like a wicked stepmother who forces you to live in the windowless basement and have only mice for friends... I could've made a "People Under the Stairs" reference there, but that would make me that creepy lady who gets all freaky with her brother, and despite living in the South, I don't get down like that.

Anyway, I promise that I have a good reason for neglecting you. And it all has to do with the fact that I'm kind of a big deal. You all know about my new job, and while having a respectable job in this economy is news enough, I have already made a name for myself, because I learned in one WEEK what it took my predecessor nearly a MONTH to learn. That makes me awesome. It also makes me very tired, because not only have I had to learn it, I've had to explain it to pretty much everybody down here who knows me, one at a time. They run into me at church, or at the grocery, or I get invited to their house or whatever, and then, one at a time, people will congratulate me on getting a good job so fast, and then ask what it is that I do. I take the time to explain to them the basics, and then they get all confused, so I have to give them more detail. Usually around the time I finish telling someone the gist of my job, someone else shows up and the whole cycle starts over. It is flat out exhausting. Add to that the fact that my weekends are spent at the kids' sporting events, babysitting the kids, trying to find the parts to fix my car, and looking for a good deal on an apartment in a reasonably safe area of town, and well, that really rounds things out. Are you tired of hearing me whine about how busy and awesome I am now? Because I'm fucking BEAT!

My cousin Frank has repeatedly suggested that I take up adult rec sports or other means of meeting people because he basically wants me to find a dude and get married already. I don't know about you kids, but if I could find the time to breathe I'd be happy, let alone trying to breathe while making out with someone... I mean that'd be nice and all, but I've been here less than a month, and already landed the job and have narrowed down the apartment search significantly... I figure the boy will come around given time.

So if you've been wondering why the hell you can't get your regular dose of the poop house chronicles, calm down. The remaining posts are in the pipeline. It might take a little time to get to them, but this has been a pretty significant shake-up for me, and I'm trying to get the dust to settle a little bit. If you're that antsy, go back to the beginning and refresh yourself... Gorging yourself on poop house posts ought to be enough imaginary-sensory overload to slake your thirst for a little while... In fact, if you go back and read them all at once, I'll commend you for keeping your lunch down.

That's where we stand.

Get it?

Got it?


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