Perfect Day Off

Returning to work in retail has been so wonderful for me, hard on my body but honestly, I’ve felt so much better about myself lately!

My calves are aching all the time, the bottom of my feet feel bruised, but I don’t hate going to work. Which feels so good! That being said, working retail during the holidays is less than fun most days.

People forget themselves, they forget their manners and they forget to be patient. But it’s alright, as long as you don’t work too long.

I worked 6 days straight. My body was screaming, but I packed a bag and went to Pole class after work and it was glorious! I finally executed a nemesis move, The Mermaid, which everyone else can do (it’s a Level 1 basic move and I’ve hated it always) and now I CAN TOO! I came home, took a bath and cuddled with Puppy.

Then this morning, sleeping past the alarm and relaxing most of the morning, lovely. But I had to get something done, so I BAKED!

I made my Grandma’s Cowboy Cookies, the ones she would make every Christmas when I was little.

I remember watching her make them when I was small, then helping when I was older. No one in the family remembers why they are called Cowboy Cookies, but that’s what they are called and they are absolutely some of the best chocolate chip cookies ever!

Sorry, but I won’t post the recipe, it’s too special to me. I’m sure you have special recipes from your family or friends that remind you of specific moments in your life; that’s what these treats are for me. Memories.

I give them to my friends and neighbors, I used to take them to The Cubicle Farm (I’ve already been messaged by my former co-workers that they are missing the cookies this Christmas haha!) and I’ll be taking them to The Store tomorrow to share my tradition with my new co-workers.

I’ve baked and baked all day, now I sit on the couch with a Doctor Who Marathon on the TV and Puppy snuggled so close to me you’d think she’s a part of my pajama pants. She even has her tiny paw draped over my leg onto the computer, like she wants me to hurry up and finish so she can get more cuddles!

I’d better comply, Puppy’s cuteness is starting to overwhelm me. 🙂

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One of those days

The word of the day is Discouraged.
All day I’ve felt “off”, cried at work, at home, and then at Pole Dance Class.

Work just felt underwhelming, and I had to jump through some hoops for nothing. I wound up crying out of frustration.

At home *TMI ALERT*, Boyfriend was feeling amorous and in the midst of inflagrante heterosis…I moved wrong and wound up *ahem* slightly bending something a direction it shouldn’t have bent? Which promptly took ME out of the mood, Boyfriend claimed he was fine and not to worry about it and lets go again! But I was ruined. Besides, I needed to get ready for class. My final chance of the day to set things right and feel like myself.

But that was a fiasco too! No matter what, I just couldn’t land anything or hold anything. Even stuff during the warm up! I couldn’t hold positions, I couldn’t stretch as far. I felt myself getting frustrated.
Then it came to practice, we were instructed to alternate spins with our partner.
I thought I would be fine, I have my wheelhouse spins but when I went to execute them, my hands would slip or my skin would burn on the pole. No matter how much I cleaned the pole or used anti-sweat gel on my hands, it was like the pole was rejecting me.

I started to cry, but thankfully with the lights low for practice, I don’t think anyone could really tell. For the first time in my LIFE, I was crying silently.
I did my best to pull myself together and get my Resolve Face on. I know these moves, I own them. But nothing I was doing was working. I even flung myself knees first to the floor on accident because I was so hell-bent on nailing that particular landing move.
After I came crashing down, that caused some concern from my fellow dancers. But with a ready quip of “I’m ok, I just landed on my pride” I managed to wave off any further attention.

But there I was, crying like a dumb dumb. Burying my face in my sweat towel, trying to disguise my disappointment at my utter failure at everything.

I got home, tears still streaming down. Boyfriend was walking Puppy, and when she saw me she bolted for me, which was adorable. She licked my face, delighted in cleaning off my tears I’m sure. Boyfriend did his best to console me, but what I needed was a hot shower and to go directly to bed and end this bullsh*t day.

Burnt cookies and nearly killing the dog

Saturday, Faux and Brother asked Boyfriend and I over for a little Thanksgiving LeftOver dinner party with some of their friends.
Yeah, I know. I was weirded out by it too. But Faux is trying, and therefore I’ll play along.
Boyfriend had gotten a cooking bug and had been making food the majority of the afternoon. Cranberry sauce, cookies, other random stuff.
We were supposed to be there by 5. At 5:15pm I had been standing around, fully dressed and ready to go for nearly a 1/2 hour, trying not to freak out at Boyfriend because he simply wasn’t understanding that WE NEEDED TO BE THERE AT 5.
We rushed out, made sure Puppy was warm and snuggly in her blanket and left cartoons on for her (shut up) and made it over to Faux and Brother’s where we had a marvelous time eating BBQ pulled turkey sandwiches and various leftover sides. I got some more “baby time” with my nephew Baby who is now big enough to be held easily. Additionally, I had brought my Apples to Apples board game, and it was a HIT. All the grown-ups had a terrific time.
Realizing we’d been there nearly 5 hours, Boyfriend and I said our goodbyes and headed home. Eager to pass out.
Walking in the door, I noticed a burning smell. Thinking Boyfriend had just left the oven on, no big deal, I walked over and turned it off. That’s where the burning smell nearly knocked me over.
He’d left a batch of cookies in the oven FOR NEARLY 5 HOURS. Poor Puppy had been subjected to first the smell of yummy cookies baking, then the charred stench of burning food for hours and hours. Bless her sweet little nose!
Boyfriend had himself a decent little freak out, rightly so. He clutched onto Puppy for about 20 minutes, feeling terribly guilty and anxious. I did my best to soothe him, but I felt the same guilt.
We have both agreed never to rush out of the house again.

…we wouldn’t have had to rush if we’d left on time like I’d TOLD him, but oh nevermind.

Sleeping arrangements

I’m lying in bed right now.
Puppy is directly to my right in the center of the bed preventing me from being Little Spoon with Boyfriend.
I’m only mildly annoyed with her because honestly how annoyed can one get with a dog that only weighs 4.4lbs??
I reached down to pet her tiny noggin and she made her “arfl-snarfle” groan noise that just melts my little robot heart. As I pet her, she snuggled down harder into the blanket.
As she snuggled into the blanket, Boyfriend made a similar noise in his sleep,  instinctively I reached over and pet his shoulder.
As I did, I marveled at how lucky I am that this man loves me and couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with the thought of how much I love him, and Puppy.
Even though she wrecked our sleeping arrangement. She’s the sweetest thing walking around and I’m a lucky dame.

He let me win, and I had a Panic Attack

Yesterday Boyfriend and I were playing around on the couch, completley innocent, when he accidentally smacks my face.

WELL IT WAS ON!! We got into a full blown Mock-Slap War! Giggles and struggles abounded. Even Puppy got in on the action! I swear, she was attacking Boyfriend to “protect Mommy”…Yeah, she’s my little ninja assassin!

As tension mounted, Boyfriend managed to get up off the couch and run out to the patio. I poured myself a small glass of water and walked out as well.

After one sip, I flung the entire contents of the glass onto the face of Boyfriend. Then RAN LIKE HELL to the back room, ugly-laughing and expecting the worst.

Nothing happened. He took his shirt off, wouldn’t look at me. Wouldn’t make a face. Wouldn’t speak to me. I kept laughing, mostly out of nerves because I knew something was coming. It HAD to be coming!

Still, nothing. The quiet was startling. I started to panic. Now, to a normal person, this wouldn’t be cause to spark a full blown panic attack. I’m not one of those normal people. 

I start to shake. I come close to him, now sitting back on the couch, still not looking or speaking to me. “I’m sorry” I quietly say, then a bit louder. “Babe, I’m sorry”. Nothing. His teeth were clenched, he eyes were squinted. I was losing it inside.

The tears burst out of my face. I happen to suffer from a severe case of Splotchy Tomato Face when I cry. Somehow the skin on my face swells and loses all regular skin-like tendencies; it’s atrocious and alarming to look at.

Finally, Boyfriend looks at me and reads that I’m in the beginning stages of a Panic Attack. He speaks “It’s fine. It’s over but it’s fine” (meaning the War we’d been having, but my awesome panic brain naturally heard “IT’S OVER YOU SUCK YOU’RE THE WORST NO WONDER I DON’T COME HOME TO YOU SOMETIMES I HATE YOU YOU TERRIBLE FAT AWFUL PERSON!!!” So no, my Panic Attack kept on.) I left the room and went to lay down, but it was too late, I was sobbing. Completely beside myself. The Demon Doubt had stoked the fire and my brain was no longer huggling the Logic.

Choked by guilt and thirst, I went into the kitchen again to drink something, but when the water hit my tongue it turned my stomach and I nearly vomited into the sink. He asked if I was ok, because he loves me and is a normal-ish human and when I responded with a soggy “…No” insisted I come sit with him on the couch.

I cried into his now bare chest (hubba hubba) and told him that I loved him and that I was really sorry but I didn’t really grow up with siblings (Brother and Little Brother aren’t blood) so I don’t know how to row like he does (Boyfriend has an older brother and two younger sisters) without going full out. 

Boyfriend blinked a couple times and stroked my hair, kissed my head and said “It’s ok, I had started to plot terrible things in my head and had to stop myself because I love you”

So yeah, he let me “win” but in doing so inadvertently caused me to freak out.

We’re pretty perfect together, I must say.

There will be spiders

In my bed. 

Boyfriend locked himself out of the house this morning. He left his keys on the bed last night, so being the thoughtful Girlfriend I am, I set them on his nightstand before I went to sleep. 

He fell asleep on the couch and didn’t come to bed until 430am, which sucked for me because it meant I slept lousy and he probably has a crick in his neck. I tried to get up and wake him to go to bed, but I couldn’t muster the strength, so I passed back out.

He texted me that he’d locked himself out and had to crawl through the window to get in. The only window he could mean is our bedroom window. I asked if he put the screen back, he said “I tried”. I don’t like that one bit. He then said “I’ll fix it when I get home”, well that won’t happen because I’ll be getting home first. My biggest concern? Is the window open right now? He hasn’t answered me.

There’s going to be spiders in my bed when I get home. I just feel it. And ants. AND PROBABLY A RANDOM CAT OR OPOSSUM!! I’m going to have Nature in my bed and there’s nothing I can do to prevent it for another 6 hours.

6 HOURS!! The wildlife could have infiltrated, colonized, and started developing a system of government by the time I get home! And poor Puppy, she’s too sweet and stupid to be elected to the new Insecta-Parliament! I really hope she’s dozing blissfully on the couch in the living room, unaware of the impending Bug World in my bed.