So if I wear something cute it means I'm risking losing my job. Lesson learned.

This morning I woke up later than usual and threw on one of the few tops I have that I actually like. I tend to have tops of the circus tent variety, but this one is actually almost cute. I rushed out of my apartment having exactly 2 minutes to get to work before I'm considered late. And I hate being late so I'm hustling to my car. As I'm power walking (because running would just cause an injury - let's be honest) I noticed a woman in the parking lot. She was in her pajamas, staggering a litte, and could barely hold on to the cigarette she held in her hand. She was coming right at me, with purpose. So I did the only sensible thing - I decided that she was coming to attack me and that this parking lot would be the place where I would take my last breath. Ok, so I may have overreacted. She abruptly came to a stop a couple feet in front of me, tilted her head, squinted, and then said,

"Oh. You're not who I thought you were."

I breathed a sigh of relief, smiled, and continued my race to the car when she stopped me with,

"I really like your top. Where did you get it?"

Trying to end the conversation as fast as possible I said,

"Hey, thanks. Yeah, I don't remember where I got it-"

and then she interrupted,

" Well was it Kohls? Old Navy? Dilliards? How about Sears? I get my coats there . . . was it Sears? How about Target? Burlington? . . . "

I kept trying to explain that I didn't remember and casually bolt to the car but she just wouldn't let it go.

" . . . Savers? Garage Sale? Hey, why do you park over here? Don't you live way in the corner? Right? Don't you? You can have my spot . . . I lost my car to my stupid ex-boyfriend so I'm not using it. You wanna use it? . . . ."

This went on and on and all I could concentrate on was counting just how many minutes I was going to be late to work. I finally got to work . . . . 7 minutes late. All because of a cute top.

I got back tonite after having dinner with a friend and was pretty excited to utilize my new DVR to watch all my recorded shows. I had a pretty horrendous day at work and this would help me end the day on a positive note. I settled into the couch and attempted to turn the tv on. It responded with a clicking noise - but it wouldn't turn on. There is nothing like a broken tv that will make you re-examine your purpose in life. I said a final farewell to my tv and started looking thru Craig's list looking for a cheap replacement. Because life is not complete without mind sucking tv episodes. Well, I didn't really have much luck. I don't know if it's me, but the goods on craig's list have gone considerably downhill. For example, I came across this gem:

For those that don't have the ability to zoom in, the post is from someone trying to sell a tv - their description says: (my favorite parts in bold)

" This led flat screen television is a magnavox but does not work. It turns on but nothing comes out on the screen. Everything looks great on the outside - - the screen is not broken, no scratches, and it includes remotes but one remote isn't in great shape. I don't know what's wrong with the tv since I just purchase another tv instead of trying to fix this one . . . "

And they're only asking $75 for a broken tv. Sounds like a STEAL. Sign me up for that.

So my body and I are in a fight. And I'm losing. Again.

Remember the whole sleeping thing? Yeah. That was actually going ok. And then my work schedule changed and my body revolted. I had finally trained my body on when to go to sleep and when to wake up - I had an early schedule at work meaning I had to wake up at 6 am for 2 months, which is basically the entire time I've been off sleeping pills. Then my schedule changed so that I didn't have to wake up until 8:30 am. I was super excited about all the sleep I would get. If only I knew.
The first morning of the new schedule, I woke up panicked at 6 am. My body was shouting, "It's time to wake up!!"Once I saw the clock, I had to kindly tell myself to go back to bed. Then my body would freak right out and wake up 15 minutes later screaming, "WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP!", just like a three year old would - you know, turn on the lights, jump on the bed, and start screaming in your face. The only appropriate response is a stern lecture and a warning, so I did just that and my body reluctantly settled down. Only to repeat that pattern every 15 minutes until 8:30. I'd trained myself into this Pavlovian response that my body was not appreciating being broken of. It started getting a little better after a week and then . . . of course, my schedule changed again. The first day of the change was yesterday, and I had the HARDEST time trying to get any coorperation. And I'm pretty sure I ticked my body off (I know it's weird that I talk about it like we are 2 different people, but that's how it feels sometimes. And now I'm pretty sure everyone is diagnosing me with multiple personalities. Terrific.) and so last night it refused to go to sleep. You know, in protest. I pretended not to notice, so that I didn't feed into it. Just like you would if a two year old was throwing a temper tantrum. That did nothing. But thankfully I got DVR over the weekend (which I am IN LOVE WITH) so I was able to distract myself from the fact that it was 4:30 in the morning and my body was sulking in the corner refusing to sleep just to prove a point. So I got 2 hours of sleep last night. Fun stuff. But the DVR . . . I don't know how I lived without it. It's like Christmas every time I turn on my tv and there's new shows to watch. And shows that I like. I can't tell you how many times I've watched the same infomercial in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep and nothing else was on. Which can be expensive, because HOLY COW they are inventing some cool stuff lately. Like this glue that can hold anything including a hammock holding two small children (which shouldn't be tried at home) at only $18.99 plus shipping. What they don't tell you is the shipping costs more than the product. Yeah, it's defintely cheaper to have a DVR.

So my car hates me and your future babies will look like a fascist dictator. True Story.

Oh my goodness. Nothing is ever boring with me it seems. So my sister Jarica and I went to Thatcher to go see my sister Chantel's new house. Knowing that my car thinks it's super fun to break down at the most inopportune times, I thought I'd be super prepared and get my car checked before the trip. So the day before we left I took my car in to get the oil changed and have them look at all the fluids and stuff. And apparently everything was great. So the trip up was fine except I always get a little bitter towards my car on road trips because my car is a PT CRUISER without CRUISE control. Talk about false advertising.

We got there with no problems and then I decided to leave to pick up pizza for dinner with my little nephew, Ridge. We weren't even a mile away from the house when I blew a tire. This is, by the way, the 4th tire I've had to replace in 6 months. There was a super loud noise and the car started thumping down the road. I was able to pull over and I was actually really calm about the whole thing. I was always kind of expecting it anyways. So Ridge of course had to see what was wrong, so he came out and inspected the car, then looked really serious and said, "Your car is BUSTED." Then he waited a couple moments and then stated, "You just have to get a new car." Shrugging his shoulders as if he felt really bad he had to break the news to me. As I was inspecting the tire, Ridge suddenly got really concerned about the pizza that we were failing to pickup. He decided we should just leave the car and walk to get the pizza. I mean, someone has to have priorities so I'm glad he was around to remind me that even though we were stranded with an overpriced hunk of junk, the important thing is that we left the pizza all alone. And its feelings might be hurt. So I called Chani to pick us up and we got the pizza before anything catastrophic happened. My brother in law Curtis later put the donut on and the next morning Jarica and I ventured to Walmart to empty my bank account. I went to the mechanic area and the mechanics all saw me and literally refused to help. Wouldn't even direct me to where I needed to go. For literally over 20 minutes they went about their work, refusing to help. It was so incredibly obnoxious. When I FINALLY got someone to help, they said they have the tire, it would be $70, and I would need to wait an hour. After waiting almost the entire hour they called me up and said, just kidding. They didn't actually have the $70 tire. They only had the $110 one. And they didn't figure that out until just then. So I left. I was so sick of the incompetence I wanted to scream. So instead I went to Big O. They helped right away, and even though the tire cost more, I was ok with it because they weren't so rude.

Anyway, on to good news. I found the Redbox movie yesterday. (I know you were all dying to know.) It was in my craft box. Naturally.

And my laptop seems to be getting better. The double clicking thing has actually stopped. It's like it's slowly healing itself. At this rate, it will be back to normal in about 2 years, 9 months.

Lastly, I found this ad while I was on some random site. And it just cracks me up. I know there was a way to mesh you and another person's face together to see what kind of kid you'd have, but all examples I've seen are like incredibly unattractive morphed versions of yourself. So I love that this company used this example as some kind of marketing campaign. It seems to be trying to scare people into not have children, because MAN, that baby looks like a baby Hitler with a uni brow. And the "Go Ahead. Make a Baby!" seems like a dare. It's kind of awesome. And a little scary.