Life, Death, And A Little Spring Cleaning

Happy Birthday to me…

It’s My Birthday, ‘N I’ll Kvetch If I Want To

First of all, I’ve been up all night again…pharmacy day was four days ago…and I wanted to finish my fourth published post for my blogging class.

It’s called “Warning: Why Taking Typical Antidepressants Alone Won’t Fix The Type Of Depression You Have.”

Go to medium.com, look up my name and give me some claps (their version of likes) to show an old woman some support on her 39th (again) birthday. It only got rejected two times!

That’s a record people. Usually, my editor, Robert, sends posts back to me at least five times because my titles weren’t actionable, or my subheads sucked, or my lists weren’t “of the same type” whatever that means, or – oh I could go on.

Apparently, my “writing a normal blog post” skills are severely  lacking.

Just kvetching. I do okay. It’s just a lot of research goes into my posts. It’s time-consuming and not half as fun as just spilling my brains and it’s sometimes non-coherent thoughts on the page.

Getting Away With Murder(ous) Daughters

Greyson said she’d kill me if I stayed up all night again, this is the third time this week, but it’s my birthday and she got me Starbucks instead. PLUS, she got me a $30 Starbucks gift card.

She leaves for a job to work for American Conservation Experience (ACE) in Flagstaff, AZ on Feb. 1.

Damn, I’m gonna miss that girl. She’s been living with us for about the last six months while she searched for a job. Her passion is birds, but this conservation job will give her valuable experience.

She’s been working part time at a Starbucks in Boca Raton to make extra money. She does a mean extremely face-lifted Boca-ite (cat-eyed) impression-complete with an “I’m rich and you’re not so you must fall to the floor and kiss my feet” attitude.

Anyway, thus the coffee swag, and the fact that I’m now addicted to their Salted Caramel Mocha Frappuccinos. At this particular moment, she’s laughing raucously at Tik Tok videos on her iPhone. Her laugh always makes me laugh,too, she’s sooo un-ladylike; over there eating a bowl of cereal and cackling. Totally entertains herself. I don’t need to say a word.

Sorry, Lost My Mind For A…Few Days.

I don’t know what possessed me, but I decided to completely put a new theme in my current WordPress site. This has resulted in quite the cluster f**k. This theme is even harder to format than my last one. I don’t know what on God’s green earth I’m doing. But I’m two days in, and I’ll be damned if I don’t eventually figure it out or die trying.

This theme is called “Sparkling.” Yeah, my great-aunt Fanny it sparkles. My retinas are about to fall out. It could be from sleep deprivation, though, to be fair.

So then I decided, “why not write a blog post?” I haven’t talked to my peeps in a couple, how hard could it be?

Well, I’m hunched over my keyboard, my back hurts, my neck hurts, and my thighs are aching. Top that off with a sore butt, and there you have me. And my hair is sticking up all over the place. I’m a pure-T mess.

When You Forget…Oh, What Was That?

We hired cleaners to come in and do a deep clean, and I forgot they were coming. You know how you always clean the house a little before cleaners come? Well, I do. Usually.

They only sent one girl to clean this pig sty we call home. I am well and truly embarrassed because between me losing my hair, and John and Tsuki’s shedding, there’s enough hair on the bathroom floor alone to hang hand-woven macrame pots from.

The poor child is not going to make it through the day, I fear. She’s just a slip of a thing. Uh oh, I smell bleach. I hope she hasn’t decided to end it all.

That’ll be one bleach cocktail to go, please.

Of All The Things I’ve Loved And Lost, I Miss My Mind The Most

My sister just texted me. Our 85 year old father, who lives with her in NC, is on a serious decline. Plus, his birthday is Feb. 3, plus the Super Bowl is Feb. 2nd, plus her husband is having back surgery on Jan 31.

She sent me the Bat signal for help.

John’s having kidney stones, and a stent they left in him without telling him on his first kidney stone removal trip to the hospital, removed on the 6th of Feb., but I told Elizabeth that I would come as soon as Greyson left on the 1st. Poor John. He always gets the short end of the stick.

Knowing John, though, he’d rather be alone during his recuperation.

This way he can lay around with his shirt pulled up over his belly like he likes. He can also eat, sleep and watch television when, what, and how he pleases.

We’d already talked about my going to NC when dad’s nose started bleeding, and he started acting crazier than normal last week. Elizabeth thinks he had a small stroke.

Her text said his neurologist is talking weeks, not months or years. But he’s defied the odds for almost 86 years now. Elizabeth thinks he’s immortal and that the blood they saw wasn’t his but the blood of one of his victims.

Still, I guess I’m hightailing it to Mooresville, NC outside of Charlotte come about Feb.1, or 2nd and staying until the fat lady sings.

Don’t be sad. Dad is ready and willing to go quietly into that good night. He keeps saying “Honey, they won’t let me die.” He’s already lost one son and a grandson. He says he’s tired, lonely, and has run out of things to do.

Getting old’s a bitch.

If I make it as long as dad has, I’ll not only have surprised myself and my entire family because I’m so self-abusive, but I’ll be ready to go.

Still Crazy After All These Years

I’d lay money on that if I live to be 86, I will NOT be of sound mind and body. I have not been kind to my body, and my mind went years ago.

I actually enjoy being a little left of center. It’s fun to make fun of. You know what they say, laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry, and you cry alone.

Unless you’re watching a sappy television movie with your daughter, that is. Then, you’re both bawling by the end.

Watching a movie Greyson thinks is funny, and she thinks a lot of things are funny, is guaranteed to make you laugh because of her laugh.

She’s just so loud.

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

You are all wonderful in my eyes. Be wonderful in your own eyes. Life is wonderful in its beauty and fragility. Don’t waste a single drop.

I love you all.

Thanks for letting me rant, rave, and wax poetic in your eyes today.

#StayStrong.

Keep fighting the good fight. You are definitely worth it.

Until next time.

Love,

Vicky

Vicky

I am a freelance writer who makes words beautiful, exciting, persuasive, concise and alive, if a little loopy sometimes. I was born in S. Korea on an army base, and traveled the world from the age of 10 months into the present day, so I know a lot about many different topics. I've spent the last 22 years (and counting) raising three children into responsible young adults, and that is no mean feat. I've been writing for as long as I can remember: fiction, non-fiction, creative writing, poetry, creative non-fiction and all that falls in between. I'm a great researcher. I am also easy to work with. If you've got a topic that needs to be written about, I can write it. I've been married for 26 years to the same man, and that's a whole topic unto itself! If you need a freelance blogger or writer, hire me. I won't let you down. Contact: vicky@vickypoutas.com, Twitter.com/@vickypoutas, Instagram: @vickypoutas, LinkedIn.com/in/vickypoutas, Facebook: www.Facebook.com/vicky.batson.poutas

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