Doing What I Do Best

Warning: Compulsives, beware. This post desperately needs an edit. But I'm off to bake cookies. Deal.

• I'm procrastinating. I should be baking now if I'm ever going to be done by Christmas. I've finished chocolate chip cookies (with and without pecans), oatmeal scotchies (nuts and not), pistachio lime cookies, a couple of oreo cheesecakes and... that's it for now. I think I'm up to about 50 dozen, I think. Maybe less. I ate a couple.
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• I upgraded my Firefox. I now get red lines to let me know I've misspelled words, even in Blogger. Yay.
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• Charlie Brown Christmas is on. I hate all of these shows: Rulolf, Frosty, Great Pumpkin. All of them. I don't think they're so bad. I've just seen them all and I never want to see them again. Kids are so screwed if they get stuck with me as a mom. Poor things.
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• I hate my bank. Either debit cards are Satan, or my bank gets a kick out of stealing money from me. To make a long story short, I spent all of the money in my checking account shopping for baking stuff Friday night. I deposited 2 checks at the ATM Saturday night. The bank "held" the money from the deposit and therefore drew overdraft fees for 5 of my Friday night purchase. They only want to refund 2 of them. They stole $90 from me for no reason. Who has $90 to throw down the drain at Christmas time? Fuckers! I hate them. I want to change banks, but only after the D. I want a clean slate. Note to self: ONLY use the DEBIT function. Choosing CREDIT costs you money because your credit union gets its jollies off of stealing your money in $28 increments.
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• I've been at my job now for a little over a year. It's time to ask for a raise. I've never, ever done this in my life. The last time my boss and I discussed my utter inability to live off of my current salary without working a second job, she informed me that I'm at the top of my pay scale, and that an increase would put me into the same range as the attorney's salary. That sounds like the attorney's problem to me. Right? What does it have to do with me that the attorney agreed to work for chickenshit? I know we're a non-profit and all. But hello????
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• All bets are off on the fitness business. I was hoping to make a major milestone in the whole weight loss arena. But, my house is filled with sweet, yummy goodness. And I haven't been to the gym in 2 weeks. I'm too busy getting fat. I'll fix it in January. I know I suck. You can say so.
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• My dad wanted to share a Bible verse with me that mattered to him last week. I had to resist the impulse to knock the Bible out of his hand. Hmmm? This could be an issue, huh? I'm not really surprised by my impulse. Just putting in public for all of you to witness my depravity. Hell, here I come.
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• Speaking of going to hell...I don't do old people. I attribute this solely and completely to utter selfishness. I am annoyed by how slowly they tell a story, get to the point, speak, re-tell the same story you just heard, re-get to the same point they just got to and...you get my point. If nothing else secures my place in hell, I'm sure this does. What are they keeping me from as the drag on and on and on torturing me with their incessant, dawdling chatter? Nothing. Just something else I'd rather be doing. Translation: selfishness. I really need help.
  
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• My Granny is 88 (or 89, she and the 1920 census disagree). I love her. I don't spend nearly as much time with her as I should. Truth be told, I don't spend any time with her. She called to make sure I'd be there for Christmas. Of course I'll be there, since you called personally. What am I supposed to say, "nah, I'll catch you next year?" I don't think so. The Granny part had little to do with me going to hell except that she is old. I don't feel about her as I do for old people generally, but something keeps me away. She tells funny stories. I'll miss her dearly if she passes. I better get this together. I have a friend who could spend all day sitting and talking to her grandmother. I admire her. I'm too selfish. What a lovely Christmas thought.
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• Charlie Brown is still invading my television. Why don't the adults say words? That's how I feel when old people are talking to me. I mean, that's what it sounds like after about 3.67 minutes.
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• I really need to be in the kitchen.
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• I've been blogging for a whole year now. Sometimes I feel more introspective than others. I've enjoyed those moments, but I really like these posts when I just tell you what I really think.
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• I'm going to a Christmas party on the 23rd. I'm really looking forward to it. I'm so glad not to be spending the days leading up to Christmas organizing my church's annual dinner for the homeless. We took hot meals to the streets of DC every single Christmas morning of my marriage. It stopped being selfless and admirable after year 3 because after that I bitched and moaned about it the whole time. Hell. I know. My new addy.
  
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• I saw my dad the other day and he goes, "Lexi, you look a lot less stressed that you have the past couple of months. Are you getting some?" You've really gotta love my parents! I guess I left the door open for that with the whole "blowing the mechanic" thing. I guess I'm not "daddy's little girl" anymore.
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• My parents asked me for a Christmas wish list this year. First time since I was a kid. I decided to be cheeky. Since they asked what I wanted, I told them. I used to hold back when my parents asked me about needing money or wanting stuff. But I stuck it to them this year. They can always laugh at me and call me nuts. I asked for the Zune Mp3 player. My dad is so cute. He tries to keep up with the times (although he still says 'bumpin'') but he has not clue what an mp3 player is. He finally broke down and asked. Notice that none of the descriptions of them on line bother to mention what it exactly is. He's so cute.
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• I hate cheesecake. I don't really know when this happened, because it hasn't always been this way. But there's nothing appealing about it for me anymore. It actually repulses me a little. I guess that's a good thing. Now if I could only develop a repulsion to all else but carrots and hay I'd be in business.
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• I will make at least one batch of dough tonight. I will make at least one batch of dough tonight. I will get up off of my fat ass and make at least one batch of dough tonight.
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• My mom just called me to tell me that one of her friend's sister died. I said I was sorry. My mom gets so worked up when people die. What else am I supposed to say? I knew her, but not like that. I think it was more of an FYI call. Do you know how many of her friends I've killed and resurrected. I can never remember who's dead and who's alive. Scary thought that half your parents' friends have died.
  
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• My intern's cousin's 8 month old baby died Saturday. Now that got to me.
  
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• I watched this guy beat the living crap out of his girlfriend while she was driving her car today. I know that he was her boyfriend because that's what the cop (who I called) told me after he finished investigating the incident. The guy told me to mind my fucking business. Naturally. I'm sorry, America. If you ever see a man pounding me in the face, ever, PLEASE call the police if you're (like me) too scared to intervene yourself. This girl didn't want to press charges. No surprise to me, but at least the punk had to walk home. Asshole. And at least she has an incident report should she ever need to build a case against the jerk in the future. She was thankful. I hope she gets away from him safely, for good. Would you have called the police?
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• I don't want to end on that note, but I'm all out of ideas. I've unloaded all of my random thoughts on you.

What a boring post. I'll find my mo-jo again. Really.