I swear …

I will own these motherfuckers by the end of winter.

I swear it. I will do whatthefuckever I have to do get them. Jay already asked how much they were when I was gushing over them. $320. I know. That’s groceries. Car payment. But dammit, those boots will last forever. No lie. I add a pair or two every year, and most go back 15-20 years now. I take care of my boots. I love my boots.

And these will be my boots…

Say hello to my pretties …

Go to the site to turn the boot to its side – udder perfection.

I never do that

I wrote a partial post, clicked anyfuckingwhere to hide it when the fam walks in, and then I lose it when I’m alone again. I don’t retype. Can never get it right the second time. So, it’s gone. Something about old flames that shouldn’t be revisited anyway.

I hate that I am limited here by what might be. Who might find this. Who might read it. I’d move , but it doesn’t hold the same charm for me anywhere else. So, here I stay. And here I stay restricted. S’ok. Partial release is better than no release.

Two paragraphs in, and I’ve said nothing. It’s a gift.

So much to mentally munch on lately

I still love my job. I do. But it’s hard work, and it’s so early – 1am. That sucks when you have to go to bed when everyone else is just getting into their evening. I miss so much. I’m always tired. I’m getting a better routine, but that involves sleep, and I detest sleep. Wastes my fucking life minutes. I will sleep when I’m dead. Until then, I’ll live on the bare ass minimum.

So the other job I applied for hasn’t started interviewing yet. Friend of mine said the boss is holding off, while trying to talk to me on the side the past few days about how I’m next to be promoted, and how everyone loves me, and how I’ll be working that window soon.

He’s a fat fucking liar. Yes, I’m next, but the 1pm-930pm gal threw her hat into the mix. Now I’m fucked. Let me explain.

Position comes open – people bid for that time slot, that specific job/role. Sometimes it’s window, sometimes it’s work. Clerk work. And clerk work is NOT sorting letters. It’s pushing 500lb metal cages full of mail and packages around a huge plant. It’s unloading the truck when it’s 130 degrees on the dock – or worse, 15 degrees. It’s standing in one spot sorting packages or mail or magazines for 4-5 hours at a time. There’s a job there sorting all mail for the 72 rural towns – I kind of like it now. It’s ass stomping busy. Like, you get there at 1 and except for a mandatory break at 4 – you go at it until 7. Full speed sorting and throwing and moving and running and omg it’s nuts. Exhilarating though.

Anyfucking way – I am a support clerk right now. I can’t bid on jobs yet. So I have to wait until Person A wins the bid for the empty spot – AND THEN I have to wait for Person B to win Person A’s now empty position – and so on. I would get what ever job is left – and it’ll be the worst one with the worst hours. And I consider 1-9pm fucking horrible. No one else wants it either. So that means I’m a shoe in.

Some ways it’s not bad. There is nothing to do but make sure your support clerk is doing their job and bullshit with drivers. Fucking easy. And I like the people on that shift. Just not the hours. I need to be here for when ~ I a n ~ gets off the bus.

We’ll make it work if we have to. Just rather not have to.

I love my husband.

He bought me a Note 10+. I am a phone whore. I love fucking love new phones. New androids. I love coloring with the stylus.

I better bring knee pads to bed tonight. That thank you will take awhile.

Anyway.

I’m good. Amazing what taking your meds — all of your meds — will do for your mood. I essentially blew off about half of my medication by not taking the night ones religiously. I need 3 lithium tablets – I take 2 at night so they don’t upset my stomach. So I basically score low on the lithium levels BECAUSE I DON”T TAKE ~~~~~ MOST ~~~~~~ OF MY LITHIUM!!!!

Idiot.

Anywhoooo – I’m better. I applied for another position and since I love where I am now, either way is great. I would make more an hour, but with a lot less hours – for now. The pay would stay later as I bid for other jobs with more hours. This schedule that’s open is days – m-sat. 8am-1pm. Sweet.

Sweeeeeet.

BUT – I get around 35-45 hours a week here. I may make less, but OT kicks ass no matter what you make. And it’s po dunk town. Happens to be The po dunk town I grew up in. Well, the minitown over from there. I would be home. Sort of. I know a great of the folks there. Good people. Hot farmer men. Win fucking Win.

In other news…. my new phone will be here sat. I had to wait to get the one I wanted. I wanted the aura whatever one. Swirly. Cool. Not that any of you give a shit but I had to tell someone alive about my upcoming joy on saturday.

We joined a gym yesterday. Even ~ I a n ~ is on the membership because Hot Trainer #1 said he would hop in the pool with him and do a little PT. I thought about breaking a fucking leg to get a little of that PT action, but I just smiled and told him how wonderful that would be. And it would, cause to see that man in some trunks. Good golly molly. 230lbs – 9% body fat.

Gawd.

Hot Trainer #2 offered to be my personal trainer – for $350 a month. Seriously. And that’s only 2 times a week. Again, seriously dude. Like I would want to be around him all old, fat, and sweaty. Fuck that. I’ll stick to the routine the intake trainer gave me today. I get 3 more free sessions, and I’ll use that to learn what I need to do. We could get a family bundle – 48 sessions for only $1920. That’s 1- 2 months.

What the fuck? If you have this kind of money laying around- call me. I’ll train you. Train you to spend your money a little wiser. I can see having a trainer. I can’t see them charging that much. Don’t they get paid by the gym? I’m baffled – and in the wrong line of work.