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To this day, I don't know how I got lucky enough to work where I work. If they knew my politics, they would have nothing to do with me, but maybe not. There are at least a few people who share my thoughts, but it's all anonymous, so I don't know who they are. My goal for this month is to eat less sodium, although I could fail at that. All those cheap, quick "meals" are loaded with sodium, but if you get in a hurry, it's still food, albeit horrible, cheap food. Better than nothing, even so. But still.
Someone cloned their cat for $25,000. I can think of at least a million better ways to spend that money. Why not just get another kitten from that same breeder? Or better yet, adopt an animal from a shelter.
Speaking of pets, my mother-in-law's poodle isn't doing well. I love that dog so much and it hurts me to see her in pain. Some kind of digestive issues, but they can't figure out what it is or why she's not eating. They gave her fluids at the vet. I just hope it's not cancer, but she is getting old.
I have so many issues with sex right now, it's not even funny. And nobody to talk to about it. I feel like I'll get the harsh, judgmental words: why are you having sex when you're in no position to have a baby and you're not on birth control??? Supposed to be a bonding experience. But it isn't. It's just another instance of me getting pushed to the side at the expense of someone else. Because another person's needs are always more important than mine. Such is the life of a woman. I know why feminism started now. Stupid fucking sex.
7/5: They always pick days I work from home to do the loud maintenance on the apartment, like leaf blowing and trimming hedges. Ugh. Especially when the baby is trying to sleep. But it's better than them not doing it at all, so I should be glad they're doing it and I don't have to. Plus, you'd think they'd be off work. I don't mean to be racist when I say this, but Hispanics are the hardest working people of all, just in general from what I've noticed. Yes, I know anecdotal evidence is very bad. But who cares?
Working on a proposal today that's getting formatted. Today should be pretty easy since it's a random day in between a holiday and the weekend. Most everyone took today off, so it should be low maintenance unless someone has a screaming emergency. If they have a screaming emergency, there is very little I can do to help them.
Husband is still considering the Eastern Catholic Church. *sigh* I can only hope some deterrent comes along because my unwillingness is not enough of a deterrent. But it might not be all that bad. Still, I am culturally a Roman Catholic.
7/8: I don't know whether the news is true. About the migrant children being kept in terrible conditions with no clean clothes, no food, and no diapers. I guess you could call them the illegal immigrant children. I understand that they are in the country illegally, but they are children and should be treated better. It's not fair that they should suffer for their parents' choices. Yes, these people are doing illegal things, but they are still people, and there is a standard of decency that must be maintained. Humans are dignified and deserve to be treated as such.
7/7: My son's baptism is next week. He was technically given an emergency baptism at the hospital by my husband, but he needs the rest of the rites. I wonder if the priest will explain that to the community or not. I get the feeling that our priest doesn't like me that much. I have no idea what I did. All this stuff is probably in my head.
Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, think I'll eat some worms.
I wonder where that came from. My mom and my mother-in-law know. Must be something common among that age group.
Why do they print birth certificates on paper that isn't the typical length? The copy of my son's birth certificate is two pages long, even though it could easily have been printed on an 8.5" x 11" page. The government loves to waste paper, I guess. Anyway, all that matters is that we have his birth certificate. After paying $14, which includes a "convenience fee." Who comes up with such creative ways to separate people and their hard-earned money? I should charge the government a convenience fee because I'm not a pain in the ass, always going to jail.
How do I stop this pervasive guilt? I don't know what to do. I feel guilty when I'm not writing, yet when I am writing, I feel like I'm being neglectful of something. Same thing happens when I'm doing anything for myself, like reading or just sitting quietly doing nothing. Then I feel bad because I should have spent that time doing something more useful. I guess these thoughts will plague me forever. I woke up somewhat depressed this morning thinking that if I died today, I would not be going to heaven. But I'm to the point where... do we even go there?
The perfect house will come. I need to be confident. I saw a nice one yesterday, but I highly doubt they accept our low-ass offer unless they don't get other offers, which is highly unlikely. It's annoying. Everyone has more money than me. I'm a decent person. It's these rich as hell out of state people who are getting all the houses and the natives are getting priced out. I keep thinking about going into one of those Section 8 places, but I make too much money to go there. Plus, they would be crappy for a variety of reasons.
Almost ready to start today. I think I won't have as much work as normal, but it's good to have a break. I want to read this survey intro over again. I'm thinking of getting a smaller house (fewer bedrooms) if it means being able to actually buy something. I am not comfortable paying this much in rent anymore. It's just not worth it for the size of the place. Fortunately, utility bills are very low and I will miss that. I think a townhouse would have less expensive utility bills if it is sandwiched between two other townhouses. Maybe.
Well, because of paperwork and church bureaucracy, my son is not getting baptized this Sunday but probably sometime in August or October. I'm kind of hoping it's October because the weather will be cooler.
I think the house search is getting better, or at least I am getting more of a sense of what I want. We looked at an ancient (although very much remodeled) house from 1906, but I thought I wouldn't be able to deal with the tons of repairs it will inevitably need. It'd be a nice project for a handyman or a person who actually likes fixing things.
7/15: I was reading an NYT article on the singular "they." I know the argument that the singular they was used back in the 1300s and was correct then. But it wasn't being used because of all this gender stuff that's going on now. People try to make the world infinitely customizable, and some things cannot be personalized and customized. Like the stuff you were born with. Science and surgery and medicine can only do so much. This gender thing affects such a small percentage of the population. Everyone else likes to think they're "woke," but I am not.
7/15: Listening to Gregorian chant in an attempt to calm my mind before I start thinking terrible thoughts. That is the line in the confiteor that always gets me: In my thoughts and in my words. Not only what you say. Your thoughts damage you and others, too. The more you think something negative, the more inclined you are to act on it or end up saying something you regret. I have a terrible habit of talking without thinking and it gets me into trouble. You'd think an introvert who rarely speaks wouldn't have that problem, but here it is.
I need to go to confession. I need a spiritual bath. I wish I could confess better. Do an examination of conscience. Sit down and work on my soul. I can do this. Isn't that something else? How nobody recognizes humans as beings with souls anymore? We are all bodies. I don't understand the atheistic worldview that says that there will be nothing when we die. We have souls, and those immortal souls have to go somewhere. Into the universe, that's what they say. But what if the universe is really God? God did create the universe. The universe did not create itself.
Someone else's calmness always tempers me. Like, whoa, calm down, what are you doing? You're acting like a child. I can see things in a whole new light.
This morning, there was a full moon on what is surely to be another day so hot and steamy that the moment you step outside, you're sweating and can't breathe. Time to make sure the HVAC is working.
Still looking for a house. It is so hard to find something suitable. I only fell in love with one house, but we didn't get it. They wouldn't accept a lowball offer.
And to be honest, I can't say I blame them, not in this market. I think the reason I liked that house so much was that it looked like my parents' house. It reminded me so much of that house. It felt like home. You could tell that the people who had lived there had taken care of it. There were a few townhouses that looked all torn up. One was actually a condo. The owner didn't do a good job with it. The floors and carpets were all uneven. He did have new appliances, but no refrigerator, unfortunately.
I thought I wrote yesterday, but I guess not. So I'm writing on 7/19 instead. Not many people probably remember the anniversary of their first period. I mean, I'm sure they remember the events, but not the exact day, perhaps. It's important.
I remember a line from Carrie, something about how all the boys came sniffing after her once she got that very late period. Makes sense. Stephen King was onto something, I think. He understands a lot more about women than most male authors seem to. Maybe because his wife is his best friend. I like that they're both writers.
I've been trying to correct my timesheet since December and I still can't quite manage it. What a PITA.
Tomorrow is the neighborhood yard sale. My husband is hoping that we get some money, but I doubt we sell much of anything. If it was up to me, I would give it all away for free, but he needs the money. Even so, I'm only going to charge a dollar. Or fifty cents. I mean, hey, with enough quarters you can get something decent out of the candy machine. And I really could use a 3 Musketeers bar right now.
7/22: No closer to getting a house. I'm getting burned out. Worried about various things. I did spend the entire weekend (almost) cleaning up the apartment, and I'm coming to the conclusion that I don't want a townhouse. It would be better to have a house that is totally mine, so I can do whatever I want with it. Hell, if there are no HOA fees, I can paint the darn thing purple with pink polka dots. Of course, I'd never do that, but it's the principle of the matter. And we can put a St. Joseph statue outside.
7/22: I bought my son a book of saints a couple weeks ago. The pictures were a little silly. The one of Mary Magdalene looked like someone from Baywatch. She was supposedly very beautiful, but I doubt she had blond hair and blue eyes. Same with St. Agnes and a couple of the others. They were beautiful, but they were not America's standard of beauty. A Middle Eastern one, perhaps. They were probably dark, with glamorous thick eyebrows. Black or brown mysterious eyes. Secrets hidden in their skin, which was tanned from the sun. Still lovely and saintly, no matter what.
On the other hand, some of the saints did look more realistic. Or they were the classic pictures that you see everywhere. St. Vincent de Paul looks like a friendly grandfather. Alphonsus Ligouri looked like he was plotting something, probably an attack on heresy.
Anyway, I need to get my kid signed up for swimming lessons. I never learned to swim as a child because my cousin tried to drown me and I was forever traumatized. But I can't pass that onto my kid.
And preschool enrollment. I want my kid to get the best possible classical education, because public school ain't what it used to be.
Having to proof something this morning that I honestly don't want to look at again. To be honest, I thought it was gone, but I guess not. These things never really leave. I'm going to be super-busy today. Looks like I will have more time tomorrow, but that's all subjective. This invites many philosophical questions, like "What is time?" and "Is time really money?" I think so. Because my time is worth what they pay me at the office. Again, that opens a whole 'nother round of philosophical questions. I'm not a philosopher, so I'll muddle through them the best way I can.
For some reason I really like the fact that Lizzo mentions the Minnesota Vikings on her song "Truth Hurts" and she's not even from Minnesota. I guess that would be like me talking about the Patriots or the Buffalo Bills. Or if I was a rapper, I would mention the Carolina Panthers.
I keep thinking about what stuff I could give up for the glory of God. I'm not good at talking to people, so I try to overcompensate by giving things up that I would otherwise enjoy. Caffeine might be next on my list. Chocolate, I have it so rarely. Doesn't count.
Two years ago today, we bought my husband's car. I remember sitting in the office signing all the stuff for the loan. Car loans are stupid, but he did need some way to build credit. So I wonder if that means that the car has hit its terrible twos. Does that happen? I don't think so. I wonder if cars made today are more or less durable than ones made in the past. My old Mercedes was a tank, but I don't know if that was because it was a Mercedes or because it was old. I guess I'd have to drive a newer one to know.
Yesterday I had a migraine. It was an "atypical migraine," which meant it wasn't obviously a migraine; the symptoms were like a stroke, which is why I went to the hospital. You don't mess around with that stuff. It was scary as hell. But at least it was a migraine and not a stroke. They gave me a script for hydrocodone mixed with acetaminophen. I doubt I get it filled. Usually, ibuprofen takes care of the painful ones, but if it doesn't there is nothing else to do but sit and suffer. I never thought they were migraines. Just bad headaches.
7/29: Had a better and less busy weekend than last one. I pushed out of a social thing to vacuum the house and clean the floor. Was it a bad thing to work on Sunday? Was the work unnecessary? I don't think so. I try my best to not work on Sundays but sometimes it ends up being that I need to do so. I think I would have gone crazy had I not done it. I would have ended up sleeping. I know Sunday is a day of rest, but I don't think I really needed the sleep.
7/29: Waiting for about a million late as hell things to come in at work. So I took an early lunch. Now I'm going to feel like I'm in a time warp from now until 4 p.m. when I have to leave. Eating early lunches always makes the day go by slower. The opposite is true for late lunches; they make the day go slower. If there's a late meeting, the day goes by really fast. Same with 11:30 meetings, because by the time you're done, it's lunch time. I'm so glad that I didn't go to that meeting last week.
I was thinking about continuing to rent for the rest of my life. Just because of the simple fact that I don't want to maintain things. I don't think I have the time and energy to do so, and my husband is not handy. But renting is just a money suck because you have no equity and the rent goes up every year. Honestly, the rent should go down every year if you are a good tenant and pay on time. But that's in the same ideal world where you are rewarded for good driving and letting people pass in front of you.
Yesterday we put all the cousins in the same room. The two 1-month-olds and the 6-month-old. I don't think the 6-month-old was too pleased because there was someone (two someones) much cuter and smaller than him. Then again it was close to his bedtime and he was getting tired and cranky. I wonder if my child is more cranky than other children. I don't think so. Maybe preemies aren't as demanding as other children because they still think they're in the womb. They sound like little kittens mewing. It was the cutest thing.
Sometimes I feel like giving up, but I can't give up. That is just the devil trying to get to me. I wish my family was mine, but nothing is ever mine. It all belongs to God. The only thing I can do is pray to God to give me strength and try not to lash out at people who don't mean any harm. I get so upset. I feel so unloved. I feel like I am hated, and I shouldn't care because God loves me and that's all that matters. But I need to be better for him.
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