Long weekends are made for sleeping. Sleeping as much as humanly possible. I have proven this weekend that I, in fact, am superhuman. The last couple of weeks really drained me, but dad is doing well and is home. In the end his heart is fine. He has a nasty germ that they think came in through the GI tract, but the infection is in his heart valve. He’s on IV antibiotics for the next 7 weeks!!! I’ve never heard of taking antibiotics for that long. I asked him if he wanted me to pick him up some Monistat, since I’ve heard antibiotics can cause yeast infections. He said, “No thanks.” I was just trying to help.!
I have only worked out once in this two weeks, so I’m starting to feel yucky. I need to get back in the saddle. It’s getting dark early so that means that running in the evenings is coming to an end. Running in the mornings is already out, because it’s still dark at 5:30 now. Unfortunately this is pointing me back to the gym. I’m not a big fan of working out indoors, but it’s my only option. So I’ll adjust.
My commute takes up too much of my life, I’ve concluded. I lose 2 hours a day going back and forth to work. I really need to work closer to home, but right now the commute is worth the money. I’m hating it though. I could be using that time to work out…or demonstrate my superpowers!! Or clean my apartment.
I kept my place spotless for the 1st 10 months I was here. My hectic schedule has wreaked havoc on this place. I don’t have the time to get it in the shape I want it so that all I have to do is minor maintenance and when I do have the time I’m tired. I am really contemplating hiring a cleaning service. That really goes against my views on indulgence, but I want my house clean when I come home. Is it elitist to have a housekeeper?
I’m beginning to wonder if something is wrong with my life that I don’t have time to do the basic things. Maybe it’s not that I’m too busy to do them, it’s just that I’m too busy enjoying life to do the mundane. I think that’s part of it. I’m enjoying my so-close-to-officially-single-I-can-taste-it life. It’s refreshing and fun. But it’s exhausting and somehow, with all the fun, there are still only 24 hours in a day. And, as mentioned before, I must have my 8 hours. I guess that’s something. I do force myself to get adequate sleep, even if that means laundry piles up for weeks. I haven’t bought any new packs of underwear, so it’s not as bad as it can be.
Speaking of packs of underwear, can I tell you how much shit my cousins gave me at our Panty Party a few months ago about buying underwear in a pack? I was shamed, I tell you! I like cotton undies. I buy cute ones. Sexy cuts. I don’t like a sweaty crotch and all other fibers make me sweat. They were so mad. I have pics from the panty party, and those little exhibitionists would love for me post them, but, um no!! No soft porn from my blog. Not until the divorce is final, at least.
On that topic, I get lots of questions about when it will all be over. I try not to talk about it to much because, on one hand I’m silly and don’t want to jinx the process, and on the other hand, I want to surprise the world with the pyrotechnics display that will be the blog post announcing the end of this fiasco. I’m all about the dramatic. It’s getting closer and closer. He’s actually hired an attorney now, so I don’t know just yet if that will hurt or hinder progress. We shall see. Guess what? 14 years ago tomorrow I started dating Ex. FOURTEEN YEARS!!!! People who know the details don’t seem to understand why or how it is that I have no ill feelings towards him. I just don’t. There’s no point. It was. It’s over. I want closure. I have no regrets; it just was a mess that’s over. Now I need papers signed to say its over and that officially give me my name back.
Dear Mr. Whatever Your Last Name May Be,
FYI, my dear. If somehow I find you and decide that I can’t imagine life without you, I may marry you. But I will never change my name again. I won’t do it for you, or for the sake of the kids having the same name as both parents, or to make sure I don’t have trouble claiming your SSI when I outlive you. I am me. Alexis My Last Name. I will be forever and ever. Amen. Just thought I’d let you know now.
Ms. My Last Name Forever
I am rambling on a Sunday Do-over afternoon. I would love to hear your thoughts on the following:
- Underwear in a pack
- Working out in the gym vs. Working out outdoors
- Why not hating Ex is weird to some folks
- Women taking their husband’s names
Any or all of them. Take your pick. Sound off.