It's Always Something

I don't know what it is with me lately. I'm in a blue funk which doesn't make sense. The weather is gorgeous, I have cool new wheels to take me on even the most mundane errand, all my bills are paid, and my health (except for a few allergy symptoms) is great. It has just been impossible for me to get motivated these last four or five days.

Well, the health being great might not be that true. Working Saturday night, that swoop move with one of my early trays alerted me to a definite lower back pull. How did that happen?? I swear, I don't recall any movement that produced that effect. Nevertheless, I opted for a cart for most of the rest of the evening. And yesterday's standstill on any work production at home seems to have alleviated that "old people walk" I adopted upon my first waking and walking moments. Today I'll tackle the storm windows that usually cause that very same sensation upon completion. I'm going to try to lift the windows differently to protect my aging back this year!

Actually I have to score a 6 foot ladder from a pal before I can begin today's festivities. See, my neighbor and landlady has taken a petty stance on my use of her things so I won't be strolling next door and opening up her shed to use that conveniently located ladder I'd like to use. The story of how I came to be afraid to use anything of hers is a weary tale that I'd rather not repeat on the world wide web. Can we suffice it to say that her stuff is fairly old and she's in this dream world where she thinks my doing a friend and coworker's uniform with mine is taking advantage of the laundry facilities in the basement? I haven't spoken to my former friend/current landlady for over a month since her tirade on my laundering favors. A single girl who has to rummage for enough clothes to do a load of laundry should not offer a friend who has the same uniform the kindness of a shared agitation. Lesson learned.

In addition to needing a ladder for storm windows, I guess I'm going to be needing a new lawn mower. I'd use the one the landlady left in my shed, but last year the bolt on one of the wheels kept loosening up. I'm afraid if I use it and the bolt breaks, I'll hear the echo of the laundry fiasco. "I'm not replacing that lawn mower because you are cutting your grass every six days!" ("I'm not replacing that washer and dryer because you are doing everyone's laundry.") I should probably only be cutting the grass once a month like her. Ugh. I have to bite my tongue so I don't let loose a tangent of the way that the appliances and other things in this house are old and ready for replacement whether I use them once or a hundred times. I have to shake my head and shut up about the way I've seen her 'take care' of things.

Then there's the whole awkward peeking out the window to make sure I'm not going to run into her before I even open my door to step outside. Oh yeah. That's how I want to spend my summer in The House of Old Shit. I'm verklempt. I like it here, even if the appliances and antique efficiency of the furnace do cost more. The rent is low enough to make this a pretty good deal. It's close to work, friends, family. I'm still deciphering my goals, but I'm pretty sure this is not my final destination. This was the bridge to my coming back from living on the West Coast and finding myself back here in the Midwest. I don't want to stand still on that bridge and watch the swirling water below anymore. I need a plan.

I've become dispassionate about fixing things up around here. I was all set to paint the kitchen after a long arduous process of refacing the kitchen cabinets, but I've lost my verve to do so now. Adding to the mix of mixed up emotions is the funniest thing that happened when my former landlady called me to tell me that the upper half of the Victorian house I rented before I left the Midwest was currently vacant. She didn't know where I was at with "things" and just thought maybe I'd be interested. She explained that they loved me like family and if I wanted the place there would be no security deposit required. See, that's the kind of renter I am. I've never rented a house without painting, refinishing, improving something! I wondered if Sandy's call about the vacancy was divine intervention or some cruel trick by the devil. In the end, I had to pass on the offer. It wouldn't be good for me to try to hurry up this process of getting back down that way. And we are gearing up on the best time of the year at work. I guess I need to ride out the summer and look into the next phase while I make some money to afford that plan.

Maybe my lazy attitude comes from the indecision over what the hell I'm even doing. I'm not even close to where I thought I'd be when I was in my hopeful 20's. I hobbled through a failing marriage for the better part of my 30's. You damn sure know that I want to make more of my 40's. It's always something. I hope I find that something sometime soon.

Why is it now that I've secured the ladder from my friend, washed my car, and actually eaten lunch so that I'm ready for an afternoon of work that the clouds have rolled in and the hail has started? Oh, and one more question. Why is that when you have a tv dinner with corn, no matter how hard you try, at least one kernel always ends up in the potatoes? I hate when that happens!