Month: October 2017

-n.  the moment when Sunday stops feeling like a Sunday and the anxiety of Monday kicks in.

We all know that feeling.  I didn’t do my homework yet.  The kids didn’t do their homework yet.  I didn’t finish my presentation.  What am I going to wear?  I hope I get the flu.  I already have a stomach ache……    we all know what I’m talking about here.  Along the way you might have liked school or your job but the mood just takes a turn.  My dearest little T told me he doesn’t go to school on the S days and him and I need to schedule a day together.  After I got done marveling that my favorite boy is already more mature then I am,  it got me thinking that he is already looking forward to weekends.  And probably has had a few Smondays.  I’m also aware that sometimes the S days come with their own stresses.  Being unstructured can be oh-lot-of-work.  Now I have to MAKE PLANS.  Saying I want to relax and do nothing sounds good until you have nothing to do and that most certainly is not relaxing for the Boomlennial.  We outgrew all that hippiedom darn.   Retirement used to be the goal for many but that model doesn’t work that well for a lot of  us.  You love the S days because they are special.  When faced with only S days you find out you’re just not that interesting/interested and your dog really doesn’t need to be walked that much.  So acknowledge that Smonday can be a good thing because you are still diggin the F day.  TGI!!!

I have a problem.  Okay that is funny.  As in Aa problem.  Singular.  One.  I have problem(s) of course. Are there actually people who have Aa problem??  Ponderings for another day.  Right now I am shivering outside with a hoodie on and wondering where to go next.  When I started this blogue in the summer I would sit outside and write and just enjoy being a slug.  Plus, I needed to get my pup out so he could chew some wood that wasn’t connected to a table.  But as I’ve surfed around the house to find something equally  inspiring it’s just not happening for me.  Kitchen, better empty the dishwasher.  TV calls me in the family room.  BEDroom?  Enough said.  Bathroom ewwwww.  So suffice it to say my hands are numb, pup is soaked, and that book deal better come sooner rather than later.  Everyone is writing a book it seems.  The Bush twins have confiscated all the talk shows recanting amazing stories about how normal their life has been.  Not interesting!  Show me a trainwreck and that’s a must read.  Melissa Rivers has written about Joan but that is just making me nervous.  My dearests would never talk about me that way after I’m gone.  Of course not.  Ever.  No way.   Yikes!!   Better write that on the chalkboard a hundred times.  Even Colin Kaepernick just signed a book deal and his whole story would take a paragraph.  Mediocre quarterback, goes down on one knee for anthem.  Maybe if he has numerous tricks on how to get back up gracefully that could give him another few lines but really a book?  So I need to embrace being an outsider.  And knit some fingerless gloves.  And get a Huskie.  And a Yeti coffee mug.  And furry boots.  And a mink coat.  Aa problem is solved.

unless it is a purse with someone else’s name on it that would make my life complete.  And does.  But that’s not really where I’m going here.  Have to cancel because you’re sick?  Maybe.  Possibly.  Oh the kids are sick.  Kids are always sick.  I’m very over-extended  at work.  Don’t make me laugh.  Getting my drift here?  I just don’t buy it anymore.  People do what they want to do.  Which of course is an oversimplification but I never said this was deep, thoughtful commentary BTW.  A good friend of mine (don’t worry your secret is safe with me hahahahahaha) told me she hadn’t seen her manfriend all weekend because he was so busy at work and went on to explain about double shifts and overtime and some other things I wasn’t really listening to because it takes a lot of energy not to roll your eyes.  And since one of my dearest accuses me of saying totally inappropriate things at times (never) I was trying to pick my words carefully.  And being that I sometimes (always) have poor judgement I had to explain that if he wanted to see you he would have time constraints be damned!  Now that wasn’t inappropriate was it?  Guess I just don’t buy excuses anymore.  Heard them all, made them all.  You’re late because of the zombie apocalypse?  Good one.  Heard it/used it.  Rush hour.  Traffic.  Yep twice a day, everyday.  Remember the cheesy movie Love Story (wiping nose break) and the ridiculous line “Love means never having  to say your sorry”?  I never quite got the point of it then so I’m reworking it with fifty years of stockpiled excuses.  Just don’t bother.  Doesn’t really matter and if you survived the Zombies it will be a most entertaining story.   I am tremendously not sorry if I offended you.  Also not inappropriate.

1.  Make a list.    Check X

2.  Clean out closets and drawers.

3.  Don’t do laundry for weeks and all the closets and  drawers look much neater.  Check X

4.  Buy new underwear.  Check X

5.  Add five thousand more steps a day.

6.  Add five thousand more steps a day only on the weekend.

7. Put Fitbit on dog and declare victory.  Check X

8.  Go through recipes and find exciting, nutritious foods to cook.

9.  Clean out expired food in fridge.

10.  Marvel that pickles last forever and are considered a side dish.  Check X

11.  Decide fridge is too clean to mess up.  Make reservations.  Check X

12.  Get a jump on the holidays.  Name a star after everyone.  Check X.   (They’ll love it!)

13. Make New Years resolutions.

14.  Resolve to find an actual check mark on the keyboard.

15.  Resolve never to make a dumb list.  Check X

Before you screw up your face and think that is a ridiculous statement (#brilliantboomlennial) give it a second of big world thinking.  There’s the obvious, yep out of the playoffs again.  Yep, you’re fired.  Yep, you suck.  But then there’s the sneaky stuff.  You’re out on the little big town and having a great time.  Do you decide to go because you’re having too much fun?  Nope.  You stay until things start taking a downward turn #gettingtiredgettingdrunkgettingbored or maybe the opposite of all that.  In which case you stay until you clean some of that up.  Stay with me here.  Everything’s ‘jumping the shark’ these days which I don’t get what it has to do with sea creatures but it’s about things that go on just a bit too long.  TV series that are no longer entertaining but try to squeak out another year, ending on a low note.  Then there’s the great series like the Sopranos that could have continued but had a terrible fade to black last episode, also ending badly.  The seasons?  Summer great!  End of summer….shriveled flowers, green pool, brown lawn.  Ending badly.  Winter….beautiful  white snow turning into dirty everything.  If you are still reading you know where this is going.  Or not.  #endingbadly

The trouble with being a Boomlennial is you just know too much.  Not only the rules, but the exceptions.  The winds of change Change, and I can’t wait.  While this political and social climate have seemed to reach a new level of absurdity, I’m sure a person with too much time on their fingertips could find many instances where we are just recycling through the past.    ‘Endless repetition of the same basic pattern’.    So true and about the only thing I remember from college.  Be grateful I’m not a doctor.  Oops.  Ok a real one that wears white year round, a major fashion faux pas.  I’ve tried to keep fake news and politics off this space because it’s quite redundant and not very interesting anymore and I know it will blow away soon enough good riddance.  However…..the Boomlennial by nature likes to keep in the mix.  And I have pretty strong opinions on everything.    E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.   So let it be known that I am pro-eggnog.  I’m willing to listen to your arguements and retaliations, but I stand or kneel or pour a shot of Jack into my convictions.  Cheers.

 

You are a pink Starburst.  Remember that!  The Boomlennial woman has been put under a lot of pressure throughout the decades.  We were the first generation of women who were expected to work outside the home.  And we needed it and wanted it or fell under the spell of it all.  Our mothers made housekeeping a fulltime job and it probably was.  They hung the laundry outside on the clothesline.  On Monday.  The whole neighborhood.  On Monday.  They actually cooked meals everyday,  all day,  like three of them.  What’s that about?  Most families in my hood only had one car, so they didn’t spend a lot of time at the mall, the non-existent mall, or running the kids around, or finding ways to get ‘out of the house’.  The Boomlennial woman found lotsnlots of ways to get her enlightened buttocks OUT.  Staying at home all day was just not a good fit.  Thus began the battle between the ‘working’ mother and the ‘stay at home’ mother.  The WM said I have to work to make ends meet and because I’m brilliant and really enjoy my job and I’m really good at it.  And I’m a pink Starburst.  And the SAHM said I want to take care of my kids and I don’t need another car and my job is a fulltime one and I’m brilliant.  Also a pink Starburst.  What we didn’t realize at the time tho is that it all just fell to the woman.  All that bringin home the bacon and fryin it up in a pan and never lettin him forget he’s a man who should be pickin up the slack here and wipin up the grease and snotty little noses boom!   But we did teach the next generations how to mix the worlds and parenthood and how to share.  It’s also not easy being green.  Just ask Kermit.

Yep.  I heard it.  You said I was right.  And I have witnesses.  It has taken way too long for you to understand that I know everything and eventually something I’ve learned over the course of a lifetime might actually have some merit.  And no it’s not my manfriend because he’s intuitive enough to know that the Queen is always right and nothing can be gained from thinking otherwise.  Off with your head!  So no names please but it kind of sounds like one of those new sugars that are good/not good for you but makes you think that maybe/maybe not they are.  The Boomlennial knowssss thingssssss.  Experience is a great textbook if you can throw out the facts and figures and just do a gut check.  The stomach has a way of sending clues to the truth and sometimes takes over when the mind just needs a break.  We had to be resourceful.  Our parents actually had a life and didn’t look to us for entertainment.  I love hearing today’s parents saying they were so busy all weekend because they had soccer and cheerleading and lacrosse and football and dance and things that I know they are too out of shape to do and probably never did but somehow they’ve taken ownership of the fun and games. But you are just a spectator.  Which is fine but sometimes don’t you have the feeling like you want to play too??  Except golf because that’s just boring. So you see I’m right again.  And I knowww thingssss.  I can help you not Truvia.