Minutia

I've not moved. I kind of want to, but every time I think of some super clever and unique name for a new blog, I check and find out it's not unique at all. And so here this poor, lonely neglected page sits... untended.

I still like my new job. Did I ever tell you guys what I do? I don't know if I did, and I'm too lazy to go back and read. I work in the marketing and communications department for a school district. Newsletters, course catalogs, social media, etc. I get to write some, edit a lot, and do graphic design. The first big community education catalog that I did won a statewide award. Neat, huh?

I'm doing the couch to 5k thing. I hate it. I hate running with a burning passion. But, I've been told that a certain amount of exercise is good for you.

Lucas got his white belt in Kung Fu last week.

Merry will be five next week.

I've fallen down the Pinterest rabbit hole. Such an intoxicating time suck.

I broke my left fuck you finger and it healed all crooked.

I got a juicer. Last night I made vegetable juice with beets and it looked like I had juiced a small rodent with all the blood red juice and discarded pulp.

I've had this song stuck in my head for nigh on a month now:



It almost makes running fun.

Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-bad

I woke up bad today. Bad like my everyday makeup of tinted moisturizer and mascara looks like clown makeup on my bad face. Bad like my everyday work outfit of cords and a sweater looks like a garish costume on my bad self. My coffee was bad, the weather was bad, my attitude is bad.



So. I'm back.

The happy rush of my new job is past. I still like it, but it's slowed down and I'm no longer consumed with the marvel of going to a place every day with nice, supportive people who value me and my opinions, where I do something that I'm proud of and enjoy... Nothing to sneeze at, I know. But the old me is starting to come back. The one who would really rather stay in bed all day, hiding under my puffy comforter and re-watching all of Firefly on DVD than go to any job.

I finally got that chunk of money I'd been waiting for forever. I bought a new car. Brand new. Paid for it outright. And I love it. The rest of the money is in savings for now. And after I get new windows on my house, the balance will be responsibly stashed away into an IRA or something. But again, much to my surprise and chagrin, having a nice fat hunk of money squirreled away, waiting for me when I retire, hasn't solved all my woes of today.


Last week was the anniversary of my dad's death. Guh, talk about bummers. Christmas was tough without him this year too, ya know? And my birthday.

And that thing where I thought I had carpel tunnel syndrome in my hand, but turned out to be a pinched nerve in my back? That's back. And I think I need to get glasses.

I didn't make any resolutions this year, but maybe I should have. I feel aimless and irritable. And lucky you, you get to read all about it. All this bitching is just my way of saying that I've decided to blog again.

But there's this: This particular blog seems finished to me. I'm not sure why. I'm itching to start over. A new blog for a new me. Or whatever. Will I lose my meager following if I jump ship and set up house somewhere else? (Can I mix you a metaphor?)