Dear Universe

Can we please end this test that you seem to be having so much fun subjecting me to this week?

Please?

I believe that, up until this morning, I have passed with flying colors. I have kept the children fed and (somewhat) clean. I've intercepted calls and emails from case workers and school officials. I've gotten Kayleigh to school on time each day. I clean up the cat puke each morning. I am using Purell like it's hand lotion. I keep Todd's nightstand stocked with all of the standard flu goodies. I bring him soup and crackers regularly, and I am sympathetic and compassionate when he vomits for 10 hours straight.

I was even very supportive while Todd was getting his IV in the ER Tuesday night. Yes, I thought I was going to throw up, even though my back was to him, and yes, the nurse advised me to sit down and put my head between my knees because she said I was pale and was afraid I was going to pass out, but I stood strong (after putting my head between my knees). I was fine once we covered his IV with the blanket. I held his hand and made him laugh. I answered all of the doctor's questions and took notes when he recommended something, just like a good wife.

Okay, yes, this morning I may have been a bit overwhelmed and snapped a little bit. I think I'm allowed one little breakdown, don't you? And I may have cried on the phone to Nichole in the Rite Aid parking lot because who the hell would have thought that the pharmacy doesn't open until 9-freakin-AM?! I mean, when people are sick and have been up most of the night, they can't wait until 9am to get their cough pill things! Why wouldn't the pharmacy open when the actual store opens?! At 8:00am, which is when I was sitting in the damn parking lot!

Sigh.

Wait. Is this about the glass of wine I had Tuesday night while Kayleigh was in her tae kwon do class? It was one glass! What's so wrong with that?! To be honest, I think we should all be thankful that I haven't downed whatever liquor we have in the cabinet.

I am happy to prove myself to you, to show you that I can do this mothering stuff, but for the love of puppies, enough already. And now we see that Kayleigh has a band concert tonight! Because we don't have enough on our plates? Really?

I will continue your little test until this weekend. If you are not sufficiently happy with my performance, well, I don't know what I'm going to do. Maybe get an exorcist to exorcise the flu from Todd. Would I get bonus points for that? For my creativity?

Once again, I beg of you.
Knock it off.

Sincerely,
Raechelle

The Universe Is A Strange Bird

Sometimes, there are just clear signs of not meant to be. Almost creepy, blatant signs.

Man and woman meet online.
Man and woman date for two years.
Man plans to propose to woman on rock on beach, but woman is carried off by a rogue wave just seconds before.
Poof. Gone.

How sad.
And how very weird.

An Iron Is An Iron Is An Iron

So, here's a funny little story for you, as I begin to clean out my hall closet.

(Yes, still having dinner with Jamie. Just not until 7:30pm.)

When I moved out on my own for the first time, my Other Mother Mary bought me an iron. I think it was Mary. Anyway, this was a good iron. I don't iron much, but dammit, I had a good iron now.

I brought it with me when I moved to Seattle. I kept it when I lived with my roommate because he was a dude and didn't own an iron. I kept it when I lived with Mike (yet another mistake from hell) even though he had an iron. It was fortuitous. We broke up a month after signing a year's lease.

Then came the back-n-forth living situation with Steve. Still kept my iron. He had an iron, but since we lived together for a few months, then apart for a few months, then back together for a few months, I just kept the iron. It was almost a security blanket at this point.

After five years of living together, that iron found a home in the bottom drawer of the spare dresser in the office. I said something to my mom about it one day, how I really should get rid of it because we don't need two irons. But for some reason, I just couldn't bring myself to put it in the Goodwill pile. Mom called me a weirdo.

"It's an iron. You can buy another one if you ever need one. Just get rid of it!"

But the iron stayed in it's place in the bottom drawer.

Then Steve and I broke up. Ha, Mother! I don't have a bed, a couch or an apartment, but by gawd, I HAVE AN IRON!! VICTORY IS MINE!!

Let's skip ahead.

Two weeks ago, I was looking for an iron at Todd's. I couldn't find one. I finally asked him if he had one, he said yes he had one, and went off to fetch it.

Then he came back and said he was misinformed.

He did not, in fact, have an iron.

[pause]

Get it?

I have an iron! I shouldn't have had an iron, but I do! And Todd doesn't!

See how everything in the universe just falls into place? It's craziness!



No, I haven't been drinking.
Why?

This Is The Universe Speaking: You Go This Way Now

When Todd and I stopped by my apartment Saturday, I checked my mail. And the Universe left me a little note.

My rent is going up as of October 1st.

Well, huh.

Time to envision with me another pretty picture, dear reader.

We have in front of us a path. You know the path. We've been here before. It's a pretty path. Lots of trees and sunshine. This path is wide. Really wide. You can walk all over this path, side to side, in zigzags. You have options. But you're still moving in the same direction. Forward.

Now, picture the Universe (however she may look to you) putting up those red ropes you see at the movie theaters. She's making a little maze. She wants me to keep moving, but she wants me on the left side of the path rather than on the right side. Or maybe the right side rather than the left. She she puts one of these ropes in my way and it gently guides me over.

She's a sneaky one, that Universe. She knows where she wants me. Oh, sure, I could duck under the rope and run off the path like a screaming lunatic. Or I can trust in her. Keep my hand on the velvet and just let her guide me along. I still have to do the walking. I'm still the one moving forward. But, lets face it, I get distracted easily and before I know it, I could be off in the trees, lost.

The Universe has my back. She won't let me get lost.

(Photo courtesy of Slight Clutter.
Beautiful photographs. Thanks, Katya.)

"Destiny Is A Fickle Bitch"

Oh, amen, Benjamin Linus.
A-freakin'-men.

There's a W H O L E blog post I could write on this quote from Lost last night. But I don't need to, do I? It's pretty self explanatory, and I think everyone can relate.

Just when (you think) you've got it all together, Destiny/the Universe/Fate comes along and says "Oh, really? I don't think so......."

Speaking of Lost, this is just one of the reasons why I'm glued to the TV every Thursday night:

Keamy. 6'4". Manly man. Yum.

Where was I?
Oh yes. Destiny.

QUIT THROWING A WRENCH IN MY PLANS, YA BITCH!

Love, The Universe II

I forgot to bring lunch today.

I made an Amy's pizza last night for dinner and only ate half of it (I know! Only half!) so I was going to bring the other half for lunch. But in my morning routine of rushing around like a chicken with my head cut off, pulling my boots on while balancing my breakfast (english muffin and soy sausage patty) in my hand, grabbing keys/cell phone/iPod and hauling ass out the door with 50 lbs of wet hair flapping behind me because it takes too damn long to dry it all, I forgot to grab the pizza out of the fridge.

But the universe saw my dilemma and provided.

We had our monthly Admin Assistants meeting and because yesterday was Administrative Professionals Day (*ahem*) this meeting was catered. Little quiches, caprese, brownies and lemon bars. And while it doesn't sound like the best lunch, after 12 little quiches, a couple of disks of mozzarella and a brownie, I am well satiated. And I can bring the pizza tomorrow.

A good day, indeed.