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Tuesday, February 16, 2010

On the beach-Clean house

So i decided to do something productive with my time since i was blessed with all this free time, and because i simply couldn't tolerate one more minute of my husband asking "so what did YOU do today?"
(Answer: Everyone Loves Raymond, House Hunters International and Clean House...)
And maybe because the last show i watched before i hurried into the bedroom to change out of my pajamas before my husband came home WAS Clean House, i got this bright idea to clean my house...no really...it's a no brainer really. Every "on the beach jock" knows this drill, pull out all the station tee-shirts, sweatshirts and hoodies, wash them and then try to figure out who to give them too...it's a way of wiping the slate clean, start over, move ahead...it's part of the five stages of grieving;
1.Denial
2.Anger
3.Bargaining
4.Depression
5.Acceptance...although we in radio have our own special five stages we call the five stages of job loss;
1.Is this some kind of a joke?
2.Moron
3.Howabout if i promise never to say douchebag on the air again?
4.I'm never gonna find a job with free coffee again.
5.Look for new job/career

I'm now in the "looking for new career" part of a job loss...and it's more productive then the "never gonna find a job with free coffee again stage" I've been stuck in for a better part of a week. Then i moved on to the front room, packing up clothes and books, found the vacuum cleaner and then discovered a very unsettling fact about myself...I'm seriously one item away from appearing in a reality show about pack-rat interventions.

On the bright side, i can take my smoke break whenever i want.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

On the beach...again...update

Hi again...been on the beach for the last three weeks (on the beach-code for unemployed jock) and let me tell you how enlightening this has been to me. For starters I've been to Iowa and seen my parents and it was wonderful. I've spent the last ten years asking God for more time with my folks and He answered my prayers. We fed the ducks, looked at the deers, and watched Murder She Wrote; seasons one, two AND three...one hint...the old lady didn't do it.

I'm back in Milwaukee now, just in time for the snow storm...and just time enough for the kids to get sick of me. For starters, there's a weird smell coming out of my son's room, but I'm afraid to go in without dropping breadcrumbs to find my way out. I've told the boys for years not to leave food in their bedrooms or it'll turn to mold so that smell better be a dead body or they'll be in trouble!

And I've been trying to quit smoking...really trying...or at least throw off the family by hiding it better...we have a dog that won't do it's duty unless it's hooked to a leash and paraded up and down the neighborhood. In the past I've had to spell the words "leash, and walk, and outside"...just recently though, since I've been on the beach, I've had to spell a new word...cigarettes...as in "just a second doggie, where are my cigs." It's amazing how quick a dog can pick up a word you don't want him to understand, just like kids. The only problem now is, the dog's on to me. The other day I was ignoring him because I had already taken him out 5 times and darn it, the Real Housewives of Orange County were on. The little demon went over to my coat, pulled it off the hook, and fished my cigarettes out. A few minutes later when I went to check on the dog-since he had suddenly become so quiet-I found my seven dollar pack of cool, refreshing Camel #9's tore up all over the back room...my husband, accessing the situation, felt the dog was only trying to send me a message on how bad smoking is on my health. I looked into my devil dog's eyes and I got his message alright!

It's gonna be a long winter on the beach.