|
Midnight_Whisper
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Amanda
Location: New York, United States
Gender: Female
Expertise: Opening mouth, inserting foot.
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
Member Since:
1/13/2004
|
|
| Well, I guess it's four now. Anyway, I was thinking about it today, this is how my last few years have gone: graduate, graduate, army, get married, move, get pregnant, move, husband deploy, move, have baby, move, husband return, move, have another baby. Oh yeah, and school since the "get married" part. Fun, huh? So now I'm working on the next steps: training for the new job, divorcing, and finishing school. October 4th, my new target date. So, what's going on? Essentially, I'm watching my kids for a little while until I go back to job training and I'm not feeling well. I have an obscene quantity of things that I should be doing, but I'm not. I can't really concentrate anyway. Speaking of what I "should be" doing...I have seriously come to question my own judgement lately. I would love to say that in these four years I have made great decisions, but let's face it, that's not always the case. Alright, everybody makes bad choices. Maybe not bad choices but the choice that wasn't the smarter option. that, and I'm pretty sure I've managed to brainwash myself for three years. Anyway. My point is, now I don't know: what do you do when something comes along that seems way too good to be true, at a necessary and unfortunate time? I no longer trust my own judgement. Not only in making my own choices but on whose input to consider truthful and trustworthy. I am lucky enough to say that I do have several good friends in my life. And when I say good I mean those with-you-through-everything wouldn't let go for the world friends. The people who knew me when I was younger and, for the most part, have grown through the last few years with me. In short, the people I wish I were so much closer to at times like these... Then I have a few new friends who are, I can tell, going to become that kind of friend. I thought not long ago that I had a few good friends, but I know that I have seriously miscalculated. I'm more lucky than I know how to describe. Sometimes I think my mind is nothing but a filthy web of useless tangents. Point is, I've reached a point where I have, and more importantly recognize, a level of sovereinty I am not entirely comfortable with. I know where I am, and on some level know where I want to be. I just don't know if I trust myself enough to take the steps forward to get there. | | |
| I've noticed that every time I do manage to remember to check xanga, there are more people on the MASMC webring that I do not recognize whatsoever. | | |
| So, first, a little background information. Since I moved into my new apartment, I kept smelling something ungood in the kitchen. It was just annoying at first, and then it got stronger. And stronger. And stronger. And finally, the day before yesterday, I made the decision that I was going to stay in my kitchen until I figured out what it was. I thought maybe the movers had packed something they weren't supposed to, so I was going to unpack all of my whole kitchen at once until I found it. Then, as I was in the process of doing so, I looked at my oven. You know that black cover where all the dials live? Well, so did a mouse. I saw just a little bit of fur poking out of the corner. At first, I couldn't figure out whether it was fur or feathers, but I couldn't figure out how the hell a bird would get there, so I figured it was a mouse. My next dilemma was how to get to it. I didn't have the special tool it takes to get that cover off, so I went this morning to get one. Then, I got the wrong size, so I went back to get a smaller one. Then I got the screws off the side and back, but my screwdriver was too long to fit to get the bottom ones. By now, I could pull it forward enough to see the mouse in there, and figured out he was more likely a rat than a mouse, by the size of him. I wish my camera wasn't packed, because then I could display the fur covered rat skeleton I saw. There are connectors where the wires for the dials run, and these connecters have about a half-inch metal exposure (note to self, unplug the oven before working on it). From the look of it, the rat had grasped one of these, and fried himself. And...I couldnt get to him. I tried poking him out, but he was pretty well entangled in the wires. I called my mom for ideas, and at her prompting tried vacuuming him out (my brand new vacuum....*pout*) and that didnt' work either, but now I have a nice little collection of dead rat fur. If I didn't get him out, I was going to have to leave him there until my landlord came, two days from now at a minimum. Now that I'd figured out what it was, that seemed like a terrible idea. This is where luck comes in. I saw the woman who lives above me going into her apartment, and asked her if she just happened to have tools. She did. We dug through her humongous toolbox until we found the tool I needed, a smaller version of mine. We opened up the great mysterious oven (which was, by now, unplugged). Inside, I found aforementioned rat skeleton, along with rat fur and various other decomposing body fluids pasted onto the inside of my oven. Cleanup involved several clorox wipes, a plastic knife, a whole roll of paper towels, a mini sponge, surface cleaner spray (again compliments of neighbor), and a broomstick handle. Oh yeah, and about an hour. Anyway, long story short (ha...right, me write something short...), the mouse is no longer inhabiting my oven. Or decomposing in it. Also, I am now afraid to turn on my stove, because I don't want it to stink :( | | |
| I'm going to be in Missouri for the week following the 4th of July with my baby. Let me know if you want to make plans :) | | |
| The normal civilian's wife does not have to sleep alone every night for months at a time. She doesn't have to watch the news and pray that todays "___ troops killed in ____" does not say "north of Baghdad." She doesn't have to keep her cell phone with her every minute of the day and night "just in case". Or look at the bank statement for the last purchase made with an out-of-country code to know her husband's okay even though they haven't spoken in a week. A civilian's wife doesn't have to hope that, when something really bad happens, there is someone other than her there to comfort her husband. She doesn't have to censor what she says on the phone and in emails to keep her husband safe. Or pay attention to what the weather is like in Baghdad today. And a civilian wife doesn't have to look at her children and wonder if they'll still have a father in a year. So the next time a civilian wife looks at me and tells me that I should tell my husband that what he is doing is wrong, I might just give into temptation and slug her. | | |
|