All original material in KaraMac@Mindsay © 2008 WWW.MYSPACE.COM/KARAMAC

By this time tomorrow we will be in the condo at Ocean City...Ohhhh. That place is an absolute haven. It's got a quaint, beachy kitchen with a breakfast bar, a beautiful living room, and a loooong screened balcony. It's perfect.

 

We're dropping Tubbies off at Nathan's parents' house for a long weekend with the grandparents His little dog suitcase smells of his treats and he won't stop sniffing it. I think he can tell when we're going away for a few days when he watches me start leaping and bounding around the apartment, packing us and the cooler, not to mention cleaning from top to bottom so we can come home to a clean house Monday night...I need a vacation just from packing.

 

I just can't wait to get on the beach.

It's Sunday. I am a lazy shit on Sundays.

 

Probably the only predictable thing I appreciate about my life is Pajama Day.

 

You could throw out a time of the day from 12:00am to 11:59pm and I could tell you exactly what would be happening. Once a week, 4 times a month, we take a happy little vacation in our apartment. Nothing too crazy, but I find it to be monumentally entertaining and satisfying.

 

Right now it's too early to start making dinner--Nathan is napping on the couch and I'm randomly playing what's on our DVR and surfing Realtor.com...do you know that they have GORGEOUS houses for like 400,000 outside of Nashville?? I mean, I'm talking a home theater and a pool for a $2,000 a month mortgage...What do they pay people down there? Slim Jims? Yikes. ...Mmmm. A slim jim is totally in the fruit group.

 

Anyway. I guess that's it. Maybe I'll do something super adventuresome and utilize a whole other room.

I could not avoid telling the world this. This was a golden Kara Moment.

Where: Work
When: Friday morning
Why: Gotta pay the bills.
Who: Me, the VP, and other much loved co-workers.
What: Talking about the Olympics

So we're all getting the first round of coffee in us, discussing our favorite events in the Olympics. Suddenly, I come out with "Yeah, I haven't seen the Olympics in like, 4 or 5 years!"

......................

Yeah. Thank God they are used to me. I am one of the dumbest smart people in the history of humanity. I still cannot believe I got a freaking 1370 on my SATs. I am just damn dangerous, haha

Well, it's Friday.

Every Friday I get off work at noon and my weekend begins...I go to the gym, get my People in the mail, clean the apartment, catch up on my DVR shows and cuddle with Tubbies. It's like 3pm by then.I clean my house like any normal ADD person does...not in any organized sense whatsoever, but hey it gets done. Nathan is home by 6 or 6:30 and we make dinner and watch a movie, sometimes go to the Greene Turtle with a few friends and then eventually everybody ends up back at our place.

This Friday I am totally without supervision, as Nathan has some charity gig in Rockville and since I don't feel like drinking or being at a bar, I will have the house to myself until around 12:30am.It is very overwhelming

Since Nathan is the responsible party in this relationship, there's no telling what I'll get myself into tonight. Hopefully nothing. ...Hopefully. It couldn't be too bad, really.I could whittle wood or not use a coaster or clean up the office (NOT happening). Cheryl is in CA, Erica is MIA down in Virginia and Val is going to call me eventually but she's quite innocent. Meanwhile, a nap sounds fabulous. I just finished my last recorded episode of Jon & Kate Plus 8.

It is time for a little bit of sleep.

When I can't sleep...
when my brain is thick and reclusive

I think of the way it was
I've left so much of me alone.

The dust is velvety
layered on my spirit
she could sing and no one would hear her.

I gave myself a pop quiz today.

So far, I have confirmed that I love and am completely satisfied with the following:
My apartment, my dog, my relationship, my car, my flip-flops, my abundant availability of strategically placed pens and paper around my house, my kitchen decor, my bed, my lazy and blank bulldog calendar, my endless baskets of clean laundry yet to be hung up that have way too many Bounce sheets in them, my printer that I haven't used for three (3) years, since I got it for Christmas (ouch!), and last of all the coffee table. It's from the 60's, it's big and wooden and marbled slate and heavier than anything you've lifted in your life; Kristen and I used to play Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board on there...You know, back in the early 90's. Pre-Google era. ha.

I'm missing a huge thing, though.
There are these two little Chicken Soup for the Soul paperback books on the top shelf of my desk that have my name in them, my words, my very own stories. And I'm a total fool. I'm just not writing. I never do it, I'll be one of those dead people in 2090 that has her book of poetry published and her half-written novels turned into essays and my great-great-great grandchildren will be filthy rich because their ANCESTOR was too busy writing about her coffee table and not putting her brain down on paper to enjoy the fruits of her labor by actually trying to put her words out into the world NOW...

Oh my gosh. Somebody needs to hit me over the head with a pan. (...I have pink ones in my kitchen!)

And round and round we go.