Mamarati

I’ve got to get up earlier.

I’ve got to stop being so tired.

I’ve got to stop consuming caffeine.

I need to be more productive.

I need to exercise more.

Teecini… looking into that (mental note to self)

I cannot seem to get my head together today. I don’t know what the deal is. Maybe I’m having an antihistamine hangover. I got all itchy last night and ended up taking a Benadryl.

I also feel another purge coming on. I want to get rid of a lot of the clothes in the closet. Lots of stuff that isn’t even in style any more or that I just don’t see myself ever wearing again. I could use the room in there. After doing my taxes, I’m wishing that I’d gotten receipts for all the stuff we donated last year. I mean, it was boxes and boxes and bags and bags of stuff. Could have been a little bit of a deduction there.

I’m starting to realize that I’ve kept this weight on me for like 5 years now. With the arm injury it’s going to be even more difficult to take off. I am so busy and then so tired from being busy that I don’t know where I can fit any real, serious exercise in my schedule. I really need to get a treadmill so I can read and walk at the same time. I know that I would feel better if I got more exercise, but it’s that cycle… First I need to feel good enough to actually do it.

Whatever. I should do it this month while we have a little money pad.

—

I’m tempted to lay down for like an hour and see if I feel refreshed and more focused when I get up. I haven’t taken a nap during the day in ages, but when I was going to school and working at the paper I would come home and nap for an hour every day… and that really helped.

This will mostly be an entry to myself.

(Aren’t they all?)

So, I’m almost ready to address some things that I have been suppressing. And you know how I’m always bitching and moaning about how I can’t seem to pull it together. This part of me. That part of me. All the parts of me. As if I live in different worlds. Here and there. Online. Offline. With my family. With my kid. With my work. Everywhere I am it’s a different me.

And today, it almost clicked for me. What this all means. And what I have to do about it.

I think mostly it means I have to be unapologetic about me and who I am. All of me.

Because everyone’s a critic.

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In other news, remind me to write about my kid’s personality. I always knew he was a bit like me, but I had no idea just how much. More clarity there.

I am probably not going to be around much this month.

Just found out Jacob is going to have to have another surgery. The fungus is still growing in his sinuses and they need to go in again and get it all out. We go for a CT tomorrow and then will schedule the surgery from there.

I’ve also got to finish up the last of my classes that I got incompletes in when I fell.

And I’ve got to work.

And I’ve got to still do all this crazy cooking and shopping.

And we’re going to Mexico.

I’m going to be a basket case…

So that’s the month of December.

I have a tiny notebook. About the size of an index card. I write things in it when I’m out and about… reminders. Things to google. Stuff I don’t want to forget. Stuff Jacob says in the car that is funny. Things that I’m curious about…

So, I’m going to dump it all here:

Texas Rose Restaurant on I-45.
I found one review: “great place: this place is a great place to just hang out and shoot pool. the live bands on friday, saturday and sunday nights are excelent. it a great place to just get away.”

Probably just a bunch of SYSCO food.

Briggs on I-45.
They grow something. There are tons of greenhouses. What do they grow? I can’t seem to find it.

Fresh Lane.
It’s a drive-thru grocery store that we saw when driving through Saginaw one day. They carry a limited number of items that people buy at the grocery store and you drive through. Seriously. I know that it probably helps people who have like 20 kids or are disabled, but I can only imagine the people who I see at Wal*Mart who are so big they ride in the electric carts because they can’t walk more than a few feet without getting winded.

Eighter from Decatur.
(”WTF?” I wrote in the notebook) Apparently it comes from some gambling railway worker and it means rolling an 8 in craps. They’re proud of it in the town. I think I saw it on several signs or buildings or a water tower or something. ? It was enough to make me go, “Huh?”

Star gazing.

Next time we go watch a meteor shower we should do it at 148 and 2190 because it’s got a cool hill.

View Map

Kiva.com.
I have no idea. It’s a government software site. I must have seen it on a sign.

LOCATE SEATBELT CHIME
That one is for my boyfriend really. My car has a really loud seatbelt chime that annoys him greatly. He wants to find it and disable it or something. It’s not that he doesn’t wear his seatbelt, we definitely don’t need any reminders about that. It’s that he leaves the car running and he might go into the house to get something we forgot or when we’re stopped on a road trip looking at something and we’re still in the car (or in and out getting cameras or food or whatever), or if we’ve just stopped to get gas and we’re deciding what to do next and haven’t put our belts on yet because we’re just sitting… it goes off forever. LOUD. I guess most people just wouldn’t have their cars running in these situations, but we live in Texas. You could die sitting in your car for just a couple minutes, it’s so hot.

Pedometer.
The one I want is the Omron HJ-112.

Vegans aren’t tech savvy.
I wrote about this in my other diary space. But it’s worth repeating here. Very funny kid stuff:

So, we’re talking about people who don’t use technology. This is a hard concept to understand for my kid.

“What do you mean, they’re like Vegans?” Read the rest of this entry »

So, what my boyfriend wants to know is why the hell there are still microwave instructions that say “rotate 1/4 turn.”

As if none Of the microwaves made in this day and age have those plates that turn automatically…

I’m going to have to agree with this. It’s almost like that lather, rinse, repeat crap.

“are you happy now?”

me making someone something or assigning an unrealistic place for a person.

not knowing my age as a self defense mechanism.

the death thought I had the other day when I thought I heard a noise in the house.

bad people, bad situations and how they make me feel better about myself.

(aka: taking the shit other people dish at me)

the intervention, and what would those same people say now?

talking to my birthmom…

meant to be alone, her realization, mine.