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Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I bring you (a very dark for some reason picture of): The Great Wall of Laundry!
I don�t know why the picture turned out so dark, but you get the idea. I also took one of me standing in front of it, but my shirt was bunched up all funny and I looked like I weighed about 200 pounds, so I�m not going to post it. I�m 5�6�, and it�s over my head. That�s a lot of laundry. Now I need to get to the store and buy some totes to keep them in so this doesn�t happen again. And pardon my redneck basement. It�s gross, I know, but I should only be there for a few more weeks. I�m keeping my fingers crossed. Yesterday after work, Nick and I went looking at minivans. We have two cars now, but Nick�s little work car, the White Lightning (it�s an 89 Sundance with peeling paint and many mechanical issues), is on its last legs, poor thing. He pulled up to a stop sign the other day and as soon as the car stopped, he heard a loud THUNK and the car leapt forward a foot or so. I think another brake pad jumped ship. The rotors are so warped they pop the pads right off. Since my car only has two weeks before it�s paid off (ya-fucking-hoo!), we thought he could take mine and I could get (cue heavenly chord) a minivan. Problem is, we have worse than bad credit. My credit score is like 7. But we found someone willing to finance us, so in a few weeks, we are seriously considering taking the plunge into soccermomhood. I am really excited, but I don�t want to jinx it by thinking about it too much. So I won�t. *sigh* Please let one little thing work out for me. So we are running an ad in the local paper for the position most recently vacated here, a senior customer service spot. The pay is somewhere in the low to mid-$30�s. We got a resume from this woman who was so overqualified it was ridiculous. She is currently making about $75,000/year. When we told her this, she demanded to come in for an interview anyway, because maybe we would want to pay her that much because she�s so special or something. Who does that? That is the strangest thing I�ve ever heard of. Maybe if it was close, but we�re not in that range. So we told her fine, come in, but you�re wasting your time. Then the owner got wind of this and told DMIL to call her back and cancel because there�s no way we�re even going to pay her $45,000, so DMIL called her and the lady slammed the phone down on her! How does that make you look like someone we want to hire? Like we don�t have enough psychos working here. The news last night showed video from inside that school in Russia. I think it�s disgusting to show something like that. I had to turn it off. I can�t think about things like that. I�m trying very hard to survive my life without taking any anxiety medication, and things like that send me directly to panic attack. Just reading the newspaper accounts of the horrible deaths those babies suffered made my chest so tight I could barely breathe. Is it really necessary to put a huge picture of dead children on the front page? I�m just sick over it. Those poor mothers. I can�t begin to imagine their pain. What were those police thinking? I can�t think about that anymore. Not to be cold, but it�s too much for me as a mother. Nick asked me last night what I thought about not moving to Arizona. He doesn�t want to move there with nothing. I understand that, but if we move, it had better be far enough away that I don�t have to work here anymore, or I will lose it completely. He also said that his mother was thinking of buying his uncle�s house and renting it to us. There are a few things wrong with this, not the least being renting a house from DMIL. Yeah, let�s give her something else to hang over us, because there aren�t enough things. Also, the word �house� gives this shack a lot of credit. It would take me months to get the cat piss smell out of it, and it would take Nick years to fix the place to make it livable. (His uncle lives in it now, but he�s a bit of an odd one. And he doesn�t have kids, which makes the childproofing issues moot.) Admittedly, it would be cheap, but it�s also in a town that I can�t stand. It�s this little white trash town with no stores, just clusters of shacks on this weird little lake. I don�t want to live there. So my answer to him was a resounding �no!�, but I think he�s still considering it. I�m not living there. End of discussion. Well, I really should do some work, I suppose. This won�t be easy, as I�m so tired I�m ready to cry, and I still feel like someone kicked my ass. I need to get out of here. ***Update***By the way, the wall is clean, folded laundry. The pile BEHIND it is the dirty stuff. That pile is mercifully small. Kids are:Annoying song on bad work radio station: Tim McGraw, "Live Like You Were Dying" Not that bad, I guess. Last person who pissed me off:Last person that pissed me off: My boss, simply by walking in the door. Heard in my house:Wishing: My life was anything at all like I want it to be. Miss Anything? pics - 2007-06-05
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