Knock knock

I’m blank today, so I’ll just chat a little bit about whatever pops into my head. In light of that statement, I guess the next one should be an apology. I’m truly sorry.

Scott’s off interviewing for another warehouse job. He got a call last night from the owner of a window-manufacturing plant, wanting to interview him this morning. My husband gets almost every single job he interviews for, and many he doesn’t. There are times he unwittingly picks up jobs as they float by in the air. They land on his shoulder and perch there like bits of fluff until he notices them later. People like him. Hey, he got me to marry him, didn’t he? (Actually, he knocked me up first, but that’s beside the point. That still required some degree of liking.) It’s been almost two hours since he left, which is a pretty good sign. Sometimes his interviews stretch to four hours because he ends up trading stories with the interviewer and becoming fast friends. Do I sound envious? I am, sort of. I mean, I like who I am, but I do wish it didn’t take me months and sometimes years to trust someone enough to share my life with them. Which sounds funny now that I say it, since here I am telling you all that I was knocked up, not to mention the hairy toes disclosure a couple posts back, geez not to mention all the other humiliating things I’ve written. I’d better find a therapist. It’s so obvious I need help.

It’s Scott’s birthday today, and so help me, I forgot to even say anything until two hours into our morning conversation, and I haven’t planned a thing to celebrate. I am such a JERK. But we have no extra money for fun this week, and he refuses to even give me ideas for presents (probably because we have no extra money) and I am not good at guessing or observing what he likes because I’m self-centered, so I’m screwed. I was willing to cook him a special dinner, but he wants Chinese. That’s easy enough, but does nothing to allay my guilt. Not to mention the fact that I’m doing nothing to lay the groundwork for my own birthday in a couple weeks. A person’s gotta consider all angles, and I really dropped the ball on this one. I’ll be lucky to get a pat on the head on my special day.

Maybe God’ll give him a new job for his birthday. That would be nice.

Time’s ticking increasingly louder every minute; my son leaves for New Jersey… then Kuwait… then Iraq, in less than a week. Tomorrow is the briefing for family members, and Sunday the mobilization ceremony. We’re trying to find a night to go out to dinner one last time as a family. When I think about it, I start panicking a little; everything seems so crammed in tight these last few days. The worst bit is he has to stay in King’s Mountain until he leaves. If the town was closer, that would be okay, but at a couple hours away it’s too long a drive for him to come home after training each day. I already miss him bad. You know, when I think of Van - our oldest - I’m glad I was knocked up. In fact, I was thinking about all my kids this morning, marvelling at what great people they are. I feel thankful.

It’s also cooler today, another treat. Maybe I’ll have the energy to work on my bookcase again. You should see my livingroom; it’s a disaster. Cardboard pieces are strewn over the floor where the dogs and cats have scattered them and used them as mattresses and chew toys; cardboard dust is ground into the carpet; silver tape and glue are sitting on and under the coffee table; and yesterday I almost sat on the scissors where they hunkered - snickering - on the couch. I can’t imagine what the place’ll look like once I start papier-mache’ing. It’s a good thing I have a tolerant family: one that doesn’t expect meals at the table (or even meals), or room to maneuver. They’re easy.

I guess I am too, which is why I was knocked up in the first place. Peace out, pals. xo