Procrastination Nation

I really should be packing, but….

I’m out here on my computer trying to design the interior of our new home. I’ve basically got a 50′ x 50′ box to play with. It’s a lot of square footage, I know. I wish it weren’t so damn big. I don’t know what to do with all that space! As I have it now, I have four bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths, an office and a small room by the back door I can use for gardening. It’s twice the size of the home I grew up in. Wow.

I know this should be fun, but it’s putting knots in my stomach. When you’re designing the place you could live in for the next 20 or 30 years, you want to get it right. We’re going to do most of the work ourselves, so hopefully SpyDad and I will still be married when we finally get to move the furniture in. Undercover grandfather keeps warning me every time we speak on the phone that many marriages fall apart when couples try to build their own home. He says it every time, and I still have to remind him that “Yes, I already know. And no, I don’t plan on getting a divorce.”

What a way to start a new chapter in my life: with divorce papers. I really appreciate the faith that my own father has in me.

Well, I suppose you want to know what happened at work. I decided to wait until Thursday to put my notice in. I had this nagging feeling, given the nature of my job that they would walk me out the same day. By Thursday I was ready to walk myself out. I printed two letters of voluntary resignation. One gave 2 weeks notice, and the other gave one day of notice. I finally went with the 2-weeker although I have no intention of staying that long.

I turned it in to the HR lady, and she seemed somewhat shocked even though she was the one that recommended that my boss put me on a two month improvement plan. I haven’t even met with my boss about that in over a month. Some improvement plan, eh? I couldn’t find my boss, and finally called him. When I told him, he sounded shocked and asked if it would be possible to actually serve out the 2 week sentence. I told him I would give him 1 week. I have to pack, HELLO?

So there you have it. Most likely my procrastination will continue, and SpyDad will be yelling at me to get my crap packed, and I’ll lay in bed like I did today, still in denial and contemplating what I should and shouldn’t pack or put in the garage sale. When your heart isn’t fully in to packing, it’s tough to get going. Cross your fingers for me. I have 2 weeks and 3 days to get it all done.  Otherwise, my dad may be right about those divorce papers all along.

The pity party is over

…at least for my job. We’re closing on the house on July 10. I figure that I’ll walk in next Monday and hand over my resignation. It will feel good…damnit.

I’m just glad it will be over. I called one of the ladies that works for me last night, and it appears that my boss is telling everyone to hold off or wait until I get back. Geez, thanks. I really appreciate it. I wonder if he’s reading right now. That would be a hoot, wouldn’t it?  On one hand, it would be convenient to already have my stuff packed up when I arrived on Monday. I’m sure I’d be spared the inconvenience of handing over my resignation to boot.  Look at how fast my cup is filling to the halfway mark.

In other news, I’ve been really busy with my photography business lately. Not only am I shocked at how fast my house sold, but I’m also shocked at how fast I’ve been getting referrals.  I’m having trouble with being consistent, though.  I had three shoots last weekend, and I only felt good about one of them.  It’s the weirdest thing too because BOTH of the moms don’t like the headshots I did of each one individually.  One actually asked to have me take them out of her slideshow before she emailed it to all her friends.  (If you want to see her slideshow, enter my daughter’s name on my website.)  It just has me wondering.  Are these women really that vain, or am I just really shitty at taking anyone’s portrait who remembers the 70’s?

I suppose I’d better get back to work.  Hugs and smooches to all you lovely people out there.

Downturn my ass

We don’t live in the hottest housing market, so I’ve been wondering exactly how our place will do.  I hope that we’ll have this place sold in less than three months.

I was wrong.

The first people to look at it on Friday gave us an offer, $5k below asking price.  Holeee Shitterbaun!

I’ve got mixed emotions on this.  We put it up for sale 5 (FIVE!?) days ago.  What the hell?  Now I’ve got a whole new set of problems.  I think we need to find a place to go.  CRAP!

Times, they are a changin’

I stood at the threshold as I watched a tall thin man in my front yard this evening.  The sun was setting, and the house cast a long shadow across the yard.  I imagined all of the invisible busyness going on.  Mosquitoes buzzed and crickets chirped and tiny tadpoles fluttered around in the small pools collecting by the tin horns in the ditch.

I felt a lump catch in my throat.  It was an unexpected symptom of something I hadn’t felt in a long while.  It’s been a long time since I’ve lost an old friend, and this time is no different.  I know her face, the welcoming feeling, the old bones that took years to grow and finally became my home.

I know I shouldn’t, but I blame myself.  I let myself and my family down.  I’ve been laid off twice, and now I am just going through the motions at work.  I find it difficult to become engaged when all I want to do is leave.  I almost feel as though I’m lying to my workers when I tell them I’ll take care of it or get back to them.  I’m still doing my job, but it’s difficult.  I almost feel betrayed.  I know I can’t take it much longer.  We’ll see if I can make it through tomorrow.