We just said f*ck it and did what we wanted. *it feels so sexy*

So... remember the whole hoping to get another year or two out of Doug Judy before we traded in? Well... that wasn't in the cards. Mostly, because every time either of us hold cards someone walks by and sets the f*cking deck on fire.

I digress. We've been having issues with DJ for awhile now.

First the brakes (yes, I know everyone has to change their brakes but this was an exception as it wasn't time!)... next was the throttle body... then the transmission started it's shit. And that's not even counting all the tires we've had to replace this year (f*cking six!) and have fixed (too many to count). It was one thing after another and nickel/diming us to death.

It was stressful and draining and needed to be addressed. But like... alot has been going on recently! We lost our Xur-Xur and our water heater went out... again... and we had it fixed... again... and then it went out... again... so we had to have it replaced completely... AGAIN. This is the third water heater in seven years and to say we got every warranty you could think of this time around is NO joke.

Anyways... so Wednesday we were supposed to have a winter storm come through. It was supposed to hit late in the evening and be the first "real" winter weather we've dealt with this year. I was scared to take DJ out into the winter weather with it acting crazy, but what choice was there? None. 

Except... my hubby was having none of it and finally was like, we have to bite this bullet and get you a better car. We'd been looking for weeks and decided on a few different things, so he picked me up when I got off work and away to Ford we went!

Why Ford? Because Ford has Broncos. And right after we got engaged, Dev had asked me what my dream car was and I let him know in no uncertain terms that I had for my entire life wanted a Bronco. Don't know why, that's always just been it for me. He told me, "one day, baby!" because you know, expensive, and then I promptly forgot about the conversation because it was like five or six years ago and who remembers shit like that?

My husband does. So when the opportunity for a new car came our way... and we were kind of financially on board with it... he was like, perfect time, sweetheart!

We literally walked into Ford and I was like, "ok... this is what I have" *insert questionable credit debt, a small down payment, and negative equity from DJ here*... "this is what I want" *insert Bronco*... and "this is what I'm willing to concede on and what I'm not." And then we played Find A Car.

Hilariously enough, the first (and only) Bronco we looked at was the one we got. Mostly because when I drove I fell in love... but also because it was between two (same Bronco- different color) and mine already had the tow package installed.

I always said I couldn't justify an $800 car payment... then we absolutely had to have a new car because ours wasn't going to make us through the winter... I drove a Bronco... the finance lady slid the paper across her desk to me... I almost had a stroke when I seen the payments... contemplated jumping through the window so I could hightail it out of there... made eye contact with my husband... watched the defeat on his face because he just knew I wasn't about to have that... sat there for a second... and decided to pull a wild card. Because f*ck it.

And that's how I justified our not $800 but not too far from it car payment.

For the record, if you don't have to, I wouldn't recommend car purchase in your near future, because that shit is expensive. But this Bronco, though?

Yeah, I recommend that shit. Because it is INCREDIBLE. Dude, I'm so in love with this car. I've never been one of those people that was super into cars. Essentially, if it got me from point A to point B, I didn't give a shit about the rest. But this one? 

Oh, this one. Yeah... this bitch will make you fall in love. At least, it did us.

I've never had a brand new car before. I've always bought used and hoped for the best. Dev was so pumped that we got to buy my very first brand new car together. So, we're happy about it for multiple reasons. It's exciting. 

Y'all meet... TRUDY. Trudy Judy.

Because even though Doug couldn't stay, we still have mad love for him. Trudy just happens to be his buffed up sister. It's got essentially everything we wanted and the rest will be done over time. Because we plan on driving this motherf*cker until the wheels fall off! I tell you what, trading a FWD for a 4X4 in Indiana winter is where it's at. There ain't no going back! Not to mention, it's got the perfect setup for our babies and roadtripping.

And that's how we became a Bronco family. Because my husband is the best, our luck is the worst, and we just take the hits as they come and brace for impact... but like... at least we do it together!

PB&J ride again! (And yes, I name all of my cars and they're all dudes).

I was sad to see Ricardo go, but it was time. Say hello to the newest (and shiniest) member of the Glisson family. His name is Doug Judy and he makes me feel like I'm driving a beast. I'm fairly comfortable driving him (it'll get better with time!) and he's big enough to be our family/roadtrip car AND my everyday vehicle. We're excited and can't wait to get this baby on the road!

I've officially been back to work for two days and what the f*ck?!

Y'all, I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy having four days off in a row last week. I know it was for a holiday and all, but I really enjoyed it. Hanging out at my house, not wearing pants, drowning in a sweatshirt, watching tv and baking random shit. Cuddled up with my pups catching a buzz. Fun times.

Alas, I am an adult and eventually the real world came calling again and I couldn't ignore their pleas. *dramatic*

Speaking of the real world, I leave a little early today to get my Booster shot. I'm not exactly sure what an Omicron Variant is, but my bitch ass thinks it sounds like an alien warlord of some kind and no thank you. It was a random impulse scheduled appointment, so hopefully I won't feel like absolute horseshit tomorrow. We'll see. Update: My appointment was cancelled and I have to reschedule, because I was exactly two weeks away from the six month mark. Ugh.

What else? Oh yeah, Dani told me this morning that I got a "title promotion" at work. I wasn't sure what that meant, but now I get to sound fancy and tell people I'm a "Project Administrator" so that's cool. Makes me sound official as a motherf*cker. 

The next few weeks are going to be utter chaos. With Christmas approaching (don't even get me started on the fact that D and I haven't decorated and I haven't gotten him one single present yet) and our company moving, it's going to be an all out shit show. 

And guess who has front row seats?

D is also working at a different shop all this week. It's a further drive and it's a little harder for him, but like the trooper he is, he's getting up earlier and dragging his ass in. You know, sometimes we all have to do things we're not really looking forward to. But then again, I guess that's just the adult in us.

Honestly, I just want to go back home and ignore the rest of the world indefinitely. Unfortunately, I like things like shelter, food, and electricity for my family and myself, so telling the rest of the universe to f*ck off really isn't in the cards. You know, with work at least. And it's not that work is bad or anything, I actually like my job, I just really want to hibernate for the time being.

Anybody else feel like that?

I made an appointment to chop even more of my hair off.

I'm not sure what's happening to me these days, but I find myself with more and more less effort to put forth. I used to push myself and feel guilty when I didn't do the things that I thought I was supposed to do. And now? I feel no guilt or effort for it.

If I don't want to do something, I simply don't do it. Yard work, house work, activities. I just can't seem to find the enthusiasm for it all. I used to never pass up on helping do all of these things or just doing them myself, because I always felt that I was a bad or lazy person, because of it. And sure, I still do have days where I force myself to do things like clean the house and do laundry. I still go to work every day and I still make sure my pups are taken care of. Aside from that though, the pickens are slim.

Example: D: Do you want to help me stain this porch? Me: No, not really.

I also used to make sure I did a little something to my hair and applied a tad of makeup every single day. Whether I was working or just hanging out around the house, it was part of my daily routine. I even kept my hair long so I could straighten it and make it look presentable to some standard.

Now, I'm at the point that I could care less what people think about my appearance. Don't like it? Don't look at it. And whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, I don't know. Honestly, I don't care. I don't even have the effort to care. If I want to slap on a little makeup and curl my hair, I do it. If not, well.... little ole gypsy from Drag Me To Hell, here I come.

It's also come to my attention that the shorter my hair is, the better I seem to feel. I used to have a borderline nervous breakdown if my hair was short, because I always thought that "the prettiest girls have long hair." I've come to realize that's ridiculous and I was dumb for thinking that. Plenty of woman have short hair, or no hair at all and rock that shit.

Now, I teeter on the line of a nervous breakdown daily, so trivial things like hair don't even register on my wavelength. Therefore, I called Lia and scheduled to have more chopped off this coming Wednesday. Yes, even shorter with our wedding almost two months away. Because that's who I am as a person.

I planted flowers over the weekend. And most of them are still alive.

Saturday, after I had my blood drawn, I went out to Aunt Mary's to get some flowers for my front and back flowerbeds. With all the work that D put into the yard (it looks so nice!) and us keeping up on it together, I thought it was time to get some flowers in there to make it prettier. (Even though it looked nice without any plants in there.)

While I was going to plant them Saturday evening, a storm came through and there was hail the size of baseballs falling.... needless to say, it beat up my plants pretty good. But hey, at least they got watered, right? So, I planted them on Sunday. The majority of them are still a bit puny, but they're perennials, so even if they don't perk up this year, they'll be back and bright next year. Probably and most likely if I don't kill them by accident.

For now, there's some really beautiful blooms and we'll see what happens with the rest. (I'm even watering them everyday and keeping up with the whole thing.... so, score one for dealing with ongoing depression and anxiety, but trying like hell to keep going!) Hey, every little bit counts.... right?!

Those vampires looked nothing like Tom Cruise.

Last week, I had to go to my lady doctor for my annual checkup. Isn't that always the luck? The hottest day in the year thus far so happens to be the day that you have to go wait in a doctor's office in a hospital gown and face mask.

And don't get me wrong, I have no problem wearing a facemask. Are they uncomfortable and hot? Yes. Am I willing to wear one so I don't by chance infect a 95 year old grandpa with fifteen grandchildren and contribute to his death? Also, yes. Because the way my family life has been going for the last few years, the last thing I need is more bad juju.

IT'S NOT JUST ABOUT YOU, PEOPLE.

But, I digress. The point is, I went to my lady doctor (and yes, lady doctor is what I call my vagina doctor) on Thursday for my annual checkup and had to have some tests run. With my personal history and family history on both sides (even though I have nothing to do with my father or his side of the family, medical background is important), she suggested that I get genetic testing done. While that sounds scary and overwhelming, it was a simple blood test and apparently it can tell you a boatload of information.

When she suggested it, I took her word for it, because I trust her and her medical opinion. If she thinks it's something worth looking into, then I'll do it. If there's a problem, then we'll known which options are on the table. If not, better safe than sorry.

While I got my blood drawn for the genetic testing on Thursday, I had to have more drawn on Saturday for various other tests. You know, cholesterol, A1C, etc. I'm really not sure what all they're testing for, but they took eight tubes of blood, so hopefully they're testing it all at once.

And that's it. I haven't got the genetic testing back. I haven't received a call about the additional blood work yet. So now, I just wait. In Limbo until we all know what's going on.

Being an adult is a never ending and exhausting battle.

And sometimes, you just need to have a few shots and cuddle with your pup to take a load off. Other times, you need to take pictures of your guy cuddling with one of your pups, because you have insomnia and get delirious at various points of the day.

We have to have our kitchen replumbed and I'm about to lose my shit.

Last Thursday night, I was finishing up supper dishes and the water wouldn't drain out of my sink. I thought it was odd, but know these things tend to happen, so I finished up and tried to use a plunger to get it handled. When the plunger didn't work, I decided that the next day I would pick up some Drano from the store and try again.

Two bottles of Drano and countless hours later, D arrived home from work on Friday to find that I had completely disassembled our sink and was on a rampage. Bless his heart, he tried to work on it with some tools, but a "snake" you get at the hardware store only goes so far. I decided to call a plumber and they came out yesterday.

The plumber worked on the lines for a few hours and then found the problem.... our pipes leading from the wall pipe and out are corroded and now, we have to have our kitchen repiped.

Shoot. Me. Now. A different plumber is coming out today to quote me on the repiping and in all honesty, it just doesn't sound cheap and I don't like it. But, I also need to have a fully functioning kitchen. Ugh.... being an adult is hard. Y'all, wish me luck.

Trying to plan a wedding is exhausting.

Who knew planning a wedding was so difficult? You know, aside from the millions of people that have already done it or in the process. Our wedding is going to be small, so I can't even imagine how people who have big lavish weddings do it. Including my cousin, Dani.

I'm going out to Aunt Susi's on Saturday morning and she's going to help me make a checklist and figure some stuff out.... and I get to try on my dress. **shh!!** Hopefully, this will make things a little easier and I can get my big butt into the dress I chose. **fingers crossed**

I think I've gotten quite a bit settled on and then I think, there's a million other things that need to be decided on and get. How does one with anxiety find her way through this clusterf*ck?! Asking for a friend.

The things I have accomplished are: the dress (hopefully), the invitations (so... date/time/actual invite) even though I haven't mailed them out yet, Maid of Honor, Best Man, who's walking me down the aisle, Officiant, guest list, flower girl/boy. I know I want my pups in it (handled by the MOH, BM, & my brother) and I know what I want people to be seated on (hay bales).

Aunt Poot is currently looking into borrowing some tables and a big tent in case it rains.

The things I still have to accomplish are: making sure the dress fits, send out the invitations, the cake, the food (I think we're going to make the food, but I'm told I should definitely order a cake), the music (I think I might have a lead on that, but I'm not 100% sure so it's still on the list), telling my MOH what color of dress to get, decorations, colors, D's suit, what BM and my brother are going to wear, and chairs.

I'm sure there are many other things that I'm forgetting, but that's why Aunt Susi is going to help me with that list. She's planned or helped plan quite a few weddings, so she knows what's up.

Aside from that, the only "tradition" that D and I have decided to adhere to is the one of him not seeing my dress or me in it until the actual wedding day. We decided there were too many superstitions (which is hilarious considering I'm a very superstitious person) and we know who we are and what we want, so there will be none of that "no seeing before the wedding" and "certain time of day" nonsense. He's just not allowed to see the dress/ me in it until I walk down that aisle.

Also, I asked D who all he wanted me to invite on his side and he told me that to make it easier on myself to just invite everybody on Facebook and be done with it.

What. The. F*ck?!!?! 😂

I have to have all of my babies on one arm. ❤️

Well, most of my babies. Excluding D, because I've heard that putting your significant others name on you is bad luck. And frankly, I don't need anymore bad luck. Is it still bad luck if you get something to represent your significant other? I mean, I did get a paw print for each of my babies instead of their names, so maybe that would work?

Either way, this whole D having a tattoo machine and supplies thing is really working for me. Not to mention, this whole working from home thing, I can multitask. I go into the office for a little bit in the morning, but other than that, Dani and I are still in semi-quarantine and working from the house.

Needless to say, I enjoy working on my laptop from my couch. If I could make this a permanent or semi-permanent thing, I totally would. But for now, we're just doing the best we can and in my case, multitasking. 

Aka, doing productive work while watching Hulu from my couch with no pants or makeup on and getting tattooed. Trust me, you don't want to see me at this point in my life. 

We're still in quarantine and making the best of it.

We've been in quarantine since the day after we got home from Florida.... well, technically I have been and D has been since Saturday. I think. In all honesty, the days are starting to run together and I'm not really sure what's happening day after day.

But, I'm not complaining about it. In fact, if this is what's going to help stop the vicious spread of COVID-19, then I am all for it. Not to mention, Dani brought me my laptop and some documents/billing/timecards/etc. so that I can continue to work from home, so we are still get things accomplished.

That, and doing a whole lot of Netflixing and napping. Which is strange, because I NEVER nap, and maybe that's why my days are all off and I'm confused? I don't know. I've even been keeping up with my house cleaning. So, you know, there's that. 

I had the realization that I am that (almost) thirty year old.

Saturday was a real peaceful day. D and my brother both had to work, so it was just me and the pups at home. I ended up cleaning our house, catching up on laundry, setting stuff out for supper to defrost, having some wine, and watching I, Tonya with the pups. It was laid back and relaxing.

Then.... oh, then. When D and my brother got home from work they informed me that they had invited a friend of theirs from work over that evening. I was a little annoyed (because I like being home alone), but decided that if it was one friend then it wouldn't be all that bad. He could just eat supper with us and then they could go into my brother's room and play video games or something and leave me the hell alone.

But, I was very very wrong. You see, one friend of theirs turned into.... one friend and his girlfriend.... and two other friends of said dude. They just all showed up, ranging from the ages of 19-21 and I wanted to pull my f*cking hair out. They were nice enough, but like I said, I like to be home alone.

Have y'all ever been (almost) thirty and hung out with 19-21 year olds? If not, I'm gonna go ahead and let you in on a little secret.... DON'T F*CKING DO IT. I almost had to double up on my anxiety meds. They ended up needing to crash at our house that night (the actual friend had to work the next morning) and then we had to have this conversation:

Me: Well, y'all should probably head home, it's getting pretty late.
Him: It's ten o'clock.
Me: Yeah, but you have to open the store in the morning.
Him: Yeah, but since I open the store and work tomorrow, I only need about an hour of sleep.
Me: Well, I have to work the day after tomorrow and I need to start sleeping for it right now.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep for shit that night (I never do when there are other people in our house) and I was up at six o'clock the next morning cleaning our house. Then, I had to have a day of (almost) thirty by shopping at Sam's Club, sewing, and watching tv while drinking wine. See, now that's how I like my days to go.

Now, here I am back at work on a Monday morning, actually happy that I'm doing some adulting. Sure, I'd rather be at home cleaning and with my pups, but the fact that I'm not surrounded by children (yes, teens/early twenty year olds are considered children by me) is very nice.

I'm going to tell my brother not to be inviting people over anymore like that. Sure, I want them to have fun, but I also want my house calm and in one f*cking piece.... and not smelling like body odor and vomit. Seriously, when did the generation after me decide that showering wasn't a thing? Uck.

And if my brother doesn't listen.... I'm gonna have to punch him in the d*ck.

I want D to go down to part-time for very selfish reasons.

As most people know, I have been riding on the struggle bus for awhile now. No matter how much I try to jump off said bus, I somehow end up just strapped on and along for the ride. It's frustrating, but also something that I'm used to at this point. Do I want to be used to it? No. But am I? Yeah.

And because of this, other areas of my life have been lacking. You see, most of the effort and energy that I can muster gets used on pulling myself out of bed and going to work. No, that doesn't sound like it should take alot of effort, and yet, here we are. With the usage of this energy, I don't clean my house like I would like it to be, I don't cook meals like I would like to, laundry is always piled up, and my pups don't get all of the attention and interaction that I feel they deserve on a daily basis. Although, if I'm being honest, whatever energy I have left is definitely used on my pups.

Therefore, I was thinking/talking to D the other day and about halfway through our conversation, I was all, "you should go down to part-time!" He was a little confused at first, because I had obviously had an epiphany and hadn't included him in it yet.

I thought he should go down to part-time, that way he could clean the house and make sure the pups are getting the amount of attention that they deserve. Sure, that sounds insane, and ridiculous, but I got to thinking about it and to me, it's really no different than when one of two people in a relationship work part-time or are a stay at home parent. The only differences are, it would be the "dad" doing it instead of the mom (because it's almost 2020 and men can do that shit now) and our children have four legs and fur. THEY ARE STILL MY CHILDREN.

I mean, he's just such a good house cleaner and once he's done I'd never have to clean or mow grass ever damn again. Which in all honesty, sounds like it would be the greatest gift ever right about now. So yeah, I'm being one of those people. I want my husband (ok fine, he's still my fiance right now, BUT COME ON) to work part-time, because I'd rather pay bills than clean, do laundry, and mow grass right now. (And he seemed to be good with that deal.... if I can only talk him into actually doing it!)

He would take so much anxiety that I have, that probably shouldn't exist, but most definitely does. And I love the idea of that. I don't care what anyone else says or thinks about it, I think it is close to the most genius plan I've ever had in my entire life.

I just want to be able to use whatever energy I have left to play with my pups, hang out with D without being in the fetal position, and cook instead of constantly ordering takeout. That's what I f*cking want. Yeah, I said it. #NoRegrets

My bloodline ends with me.... the dramatic way to let people know.

I read an article the other day (I can't remember which website?), written by a woman who doesn't want kids and was being chastised for it. Because apparently, when you're a woman, the only thing you should want in life is to be a mother.

It's ok, dude. I get it all the time.

You see, my mother was the best mother. And I know almost everyone thinks and says that about their mother, but when I say it, it's true. I am a firm believer that some people are born to be mothers.... and some are not.

One of the things that I deal with the most in life, is when people ask me when I'm going to have kids. Once someone learns that you have no plans for children or that you don't want them, they seem to make it their lifelong goal to ensure that you do in fact reproduce.

Why it's so important to other people what pops out of my vagina, I'll never know, but I guess that's one of the great mysteries of life that I'll never solve.

If it were possible, I would have Robert Stack narrate my life.

You see, I've never wanted kids. I once had to write a paper for my "senior project" (in high school.... so many moons ago) detailing what I thought my life would look like in ten years, and actually had to write a second paper, because the first one came off so sarcastic. So yeah, two papers. One truthful and one completely made up.

But, when you tell people that you don't want kids, they look at you like you have six heads. And then you get to hear the best of the best with shit like:

"I don't know how you can feel that way, I've always wanted a family."
"You'll change your mind."
"That'll all change when you meet the right person."
"Everyone thinks they can't be a mother, but once you hold that baby in your arms...."
"Do you hate all children?"
Are you too selfish to have children?"
"Who will take care of you when you're old?"
"Parenting is the best job in the whole world! You'll be missing out."
"What if your husband decides he wants kids? You know, people get divorced over that."

Well, my answers to those inquiries are quite simple really:

I don't feel like a family is just parents and children. There are many kinds of families, whether bound by blood or not, that truly love each other and would do anything for the other.

I'm not going to change my mind. Have you met me? Once my mind is set, it's there and there's no going back. I'm too stubborn and set in my ways to turn it around now.

And frankly, I have met the right person. If I was going to have children, it would be with D, because I know he would be a fantastic dad. But, I still don't want kids.

You know what makes me happy when I hold it in my arms? Puppies, burritos, and booze. Not necessarily in that order. We are all entitled to our happiness and who is one person to determined what happiness is for another?

No, I don't hate all children. I love my nephews dearly and brag about other children until I'm blue in the face. I just don't want to have any of "my own." And that doesn't mean that I don't love them or that I would ever hurt a child. Just because you love something, doesn't mean you want it. I love Mexican food, but that doesn't mean I want to sit down and eat fifty burritos every day for the rest of my life. Why? Because that's expensive and will cause stomach problems.

Call it selfish if you want. I feel truly horrible for the people that want to be mothers and can't. My heart goes out to them and I wish them all the hope, love, and encouragement from the deepest and most sincere part of myself. But, just because I want that for them, doesn't mean that I want it for myself.

I don't know who will take care of me when I'm old. Hopefully I'll be able to take care of myself or just randomly kill over one day and won't be a bother to anyone else. Besides, who's to say that if I were to have children, that they wouldn't be little shits of human beings and would actually take care of me when I'm old anyways?

You know what the best job in the world is? Puppy daycare runner. I don't know if that's a legit title or not, but I'm currently looking into it as we speak.

I know where my husband fiance stands on kids. He's always wanted kids. And don't think for one minute that we haven't had that talk, because we have. In fact, we have that talk at least once a week, because I don't want him to feel like he's missing out on anything, and honestly, that's the kind of talk you really should have BEFORE you get married. I want to be able to give him everything that he wants in the world and to make him unconditionally happy, but I also am not going to have kids just to please someone else. Maybe that's selfish? Maybe that's just realistic. Either way, we both know where one another stands on the subject and we've learned to not only live with it, but understand it.

D has always wanted ten kids. I've never wanted any. We compromised and have three dogs (with him trying to sneak in a fourth). And our lives revolve around those pups. And I wouldn't have it any other way. If D wants it another way, he knows that he can tell me. We're very open and honest about our future with each other. Always have been.

So, quit saying that I'm missing out. Quit trying to make me feel bad for not wanting kids. Stop trying to change my mind and if you don't like all of my answers, then maybe you shouldn't bring up the subject. And if you feel like it's something you want for your life, don't just assume that every other person around you wants the same thing.

Why?! BECAUSE MY BLOODLINE ENDS WITH ME. That's why.

My nervous breakdown was temporarily averted for another day.

Y'all, it's amazing what the combination of wine/vodka, antidepressants, dogs, and a clean house can do for your mood.

I kid.... mostly. But, I did feel like I was about to have a catastrophic mental break yesterday and I was completely worn out. I seriously didn't think I was going to be able to do anything, let alone a list of things, but I forced myself with everything that I had to at the very least clean my disgusting clusterf*ck of a house, because I'm pretty sure that's where 93% of my anxiety was coming from. You know, for yesterday at least, because every day there's a new thing that gives me anxiety attacks.

Oh, what fun it is.

So yeah, as soon as I got off of work yesterday I headed straight to the house and started cleaning as soon as I walked in the door, because I knew if I sat down for even a minute I would lose all momentum and that's not something that comes easily to me these days. And when D got home, he started right in on helping me. Even my brother helped here and there and that's basically unheard of.

I had the kitchen, bathroom, etc. done by the time they got there and they helped me with the living room and the back bedroom. So now, when the guys deliver our bed today, it will fit and be surrounded by cleanliness. I'm even almost caught up on laundry, I have to wash the new sheet/comforter that I got for our bigger bed and then one to two more loads and it's all done.

And sure, there's still an endless list of shit that has to be done (like finishing the paint/trim/backsplash in the kitchen, repaint two walls/finish trim in the living room, mow the front yard/clean up the weeds, give the pups another bath, get the back room ready for company, figure out what's going on with our electric in the kitchen, etc.), and I can barely move and stay awake today, let alone function (it's not going well and I may very well pass out or sit on the couch and not be able to move the rest of the night), but wins are so few and far between these days that I'll take what I can get.

That my friends, is where I am. Not well, but not as bad in the nervous breakdown department today.

Honestly though, give it time, it's definitely coming.... possibly even later on today. The way I feel these days, I never know when it's going to happen and while it's frustrating and terribly inconvenient, it's my life now.

This picture was taken Sunday evening post kitchen painting/precleaning.

My house is a mess and I may or may not have a nervous breakdown.

To say that my house is a giant clusterf*ck right now would be the understatement of the century. Seriously, it's that damn bad.

Between living with two boys and three dogs and the fact that I have no motivation to clean, it almost looks like an episode of Hoarders up in there. And while I want it clean, and I need it clean, I can't seem to build up the momentum to actually do shit about it. I know that sounds horrible, but it's just the truth.

We painted our kitchen yesterday and while it's mostly completed, it to feels like a never ending task. Yes, I love the color and am happy that my walls are no longer covered in flat paint, but there's still a little painting left to do, the trim work, and the backsplash. So yeah, there's that.

But, I can't finish that this evening, because when I get home I have to rearrange furniture and try like hell to clean, because we have a bed being delivered tomorrow around 4:00. We currently have a full size bed, but I'm one of those people that likes their dogs to sleep with them, so we are upgrading to a king size.

And apparently D has lost his wallet somewhere in the house that I have taken to calling the pit of despair. So, we have to look for that too. *scratch that, apparently he found it in our backyard? don't ask* Oh, and the outlets in my kitchen are still not functioning even though they have been replaced. Extension cords are now a never-ending part of my life now, I guess?

I've also decided that we should repaint the red walls in our living room a different color (I'm thinking maybe a dark green?), because you can see the lines real bad and it's just not covering like it should. Add that to the f*cking list.

Basically, I'm just writing this to vent and complain and list out all the shit that I have to do that needs done asap and try to figure out where I will get all of this motivation from. All I can say about that is good luck to myself and hope for the best.

Yeah.... that's where I am with it.

Our kitchen floor is FINALLY (almost) done.

Back in March I mentioned that D and I had decided to start some "home renovation" projects. Nothing too huge (although eventually we will have to tackle the bathroom and the thought of that makes me break out in hives), and lord knows with the way I feel and my attention span, it's been a bit of a challenge.

The living room painting is still not completed (all walls need at least one more coat and the trim needs finished), but the ceiling is painted, so there's that. Oh yeah, I have decided to paint all of the ceilings in our house black and all the trim charcoal by the way.... I like the darkness and living in a "cave."

The biggest thing that we've done thus far is our kitchen floor. I got this random idea (thanks, Pinterest and every DIY blog ever written) that creating our floor out of pallets would be a fantastic idea.

It's been a stressful couple of months living in a "construction zone" but this past Memorial Day weekend (three days!) we FINALLY finished it.... mostly. I say mostly only because it has to have it's final "leveling" layer of polyurethane applied, but other than that IT'S DONE.

Our kitchen is kind of normal again, and the next project in there is D is gonna build cabinets with an attached counter, because we literally have NO counter space. And very little cabinet space. And of course, we have to paint (the ceiling is going to be black), and I think we've settled on the walls being a navy blue. Who knows when all of this will get done, but since I plan on living in our house until I die (because f*ck moving), we've got some time.

But y'all, the biggest hurdle in there (the floor) is FINALLY (mostly) done. And yes, I love it.

Our water heater has been out of commission since last Thursday.

Ok, I don't want to be one of "those people" but I'm gonna go ahead and say it....

F*CK 2019. F*ck it. The whole f*cking thing. It can eat a bag of dicks.

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
_____________________________________

I officially have to leave work today (for an extended lunch), so that I can meet a fourth person at my house to try and see if we will ever get to have hot water again. (I'm beginning to doubt that we ever will and I kind of just want to scream very loudly).

That's right. A FOURTH PERSON.

Last Thursday, I noticed our water heater was acting a little wonky, but assumed the pilot light had gone out, as they're prone to do. So, on Friday I relit the pilot light and.... nothing. I had to call a repairman to come out (no easy feat to accomplish on Easter weekend) on Saturday and he had to order a part.... that didn't come in until yesterday. So needless to say, once I got a call yesterday saying that a repairman could be at my house within thirty minutes to fix us up, I was so damn happy.

And then.... happiness short-lived.

The guy switched out our gas valve (the supposed culprit of all our woes), but the pilot light continued to go out and won't stay lit to save the damn queen. I called last night and they said they would send another repairman out this morning. This morning came (Pook went into work later so he could be home for that appointment) and that guy had to call a fourth guy.

[[ Side note: Aunt Poot has been letting us shower at their house (thank y'all!!) and I've been old schooling it and heating up water on the stove to do dishes and such. #IGrewUpPoorSoIKnowWhatsUp #MyMommaDidntRaiseNoPrincess ]]

UPDATE: my "extended lunch" turned out to not be extended at all and we had to order ANOTHER  part to fix this f*cking water heater. Apparently there's a glass vial on the inside of this water heater to make it function, which has to be one of the stupidest things I've ever f*cking heard and it shattered (because duh, of course it did it's f*cking glass squished between metal and mechanical entities). It should be here by tomorrow and installed either in the afternoon or the next day. (The only reason it's being fixed instead of replaced is because all the parts are covered by its warranty). So, we may or may not have a functioning water heater by the weekend.

Or, you know, by the time that I'm f*cking forty or something equally as dramatic as that statement.

Whose bright idea was it to renovate our live-in house? (Part I).

I think D has been reading those "helping your partner through the grieving process" pamphlets that they insisted I take when I picked my charm with Momma's fingerprint on it up from the funeral home a couple weeks back.

Personally, I'm saying this, because he seems to be doing fairly well at trying to help me. Even when he isn't exactly sure how to handle the situation, he bites down and rides out the storm.

In other words, he essentially gives me my way in all matters, deals with my ever changing mood swings, and doesn't judge when I go through bouts of relentless crying or I think binge-drinking is an acceptable hobby to pick up and run sprints with.

With all of that being said, I would be lying if I said I too wasn't looking for something to help me "deal" with the current situation. Sure, I could put my stubborn pride away and pick up one of those grieving pamphlets myself, but I am nothing if not my mother's daughter and I just can't seem to bring myself to do it. Not that there's anything wrong with them, if it helps people cope I think that's awesome, but for some reason I just can't bring myself to do it.

Instead I read random facts online and take advice from the homeless lady at my local grocery store.

Recently though, we (and by "we" I mean D and I were talking about it) decided that a "home renovation project" would be helpful. You know, something to keep me busy and focus on other than the fact that I am alone in our house more than what I have ever been in my entire life.

You know, because who doesn't say the way to relieve stress is to live in a semi-permanent construction zone and start a home renovation not knowing how long the entire process could take? Clearly, this is something that sane people do and it's not at all me just trying to grasp at anything to keep myself from falling off the deep end.

So, this past weekend, we started. Technically, I got a wild hair and was going through one of my moods of annoyance and frustration so D and I went to Lowe's at eight o'clock Saturday night and I proceeded to get things I needed to repaint our living room and start with the refinishing of the floors.

(Because of this, I kind of think Pinterest is somewhere between my arch nemesis and a complete genius (hence the random home renovation photo ideas I keep collecting pictures of). And as you can see, the entire thing has really worn our pups out. *insert eyeroll here*)

They (and by "they" I mean people I may have read about or I might have just made up in my head and can't honestly remember) say when "processing grief" you are supposed to surround yourself with things that can give you joy. Well, as of right now I have three dogs and two cranberry colored living room walls. So, there's that.

This is going to be a long journey, but apparently, I have the time (and house) for such projects.

Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down. ❤️

It's almost like I'm seventeen again.... but with a slightly better haircut and skincare routine. Emphasis on the slightly.

A few months ago (maybe six or so?) a decision was made. It was a big decision. Huge decision. The kind of decision that is more or less life changing and if it blows up in your face, you're left standing there like WTF??!!!!??!?!???!!

There were quite a few people that thought this enormous decision came out of left field (maybe it did a little bit?) and that it is insane (maybe it is?), but the truth is, a great deal more thought was put into it than what they realize. Why?

Well, like I said, we made the decision probably six months ago and then I proceeded to tell NO ONE other than a few select people.

And when I say "a few select" I truly mean it. Only the people whose lives would be directly affected were told.

The decision was that we would get a new roommate.... that was moving up from Florida (1,000 miles away).... and that he would stay.... and that we would all live together.... and that he and I would kind of date.... again. Oh yeah, did I leave that teeny detail out? He's kinda also my highschool sweetheart. And by "kinda" I mean.... he was my highschool sweetheart.

Before you start rolling your eyes and making your list of reasons to have me involuntarily committed, just know, we are all very happy about this. Like, seriously. It's a little ridiculous how goofily happy we all are. Weird.

For the record, it all went down like this, because I'm fairly private about that area of my life (for the most part).

He drove up this past Saturday (12/15) with his dog and a car full of stuff (a very small load, and it just further solidified my stance as a hoarder). His mother and brother rode with him so he wouldn't have to make that ridiculously long trip (around sixteen hours or something stupid like that?) alone and then they turned right around and I had to take them to the airport early Sunday morning so they could catch their flight home. (He would've come up sooner, but his little sister, aka the best little sister I never had, got married on 12/8 and there's no way anybody, myself included, wanted him to miss that!)

I took Monday off, because I figured we would all need time to adjust and organize, but if I'm being honest, we all (him, Momma, our two pups, his pup, and myself) kind of just fell right into it and we've had no problems (knock on wood). Although, now all of us have been super confused this week, because we thought all day Monday was Sunday and our schedules look like a scene from The Shining. But we're all happy, having fun and it feels like we picked up right where we left off (he lived with us back then.... don't ask, long story). We all adore each other and we're officially a family again.

So yeah, there it is.