So it's been a hot fucking minute since I've had any time or interest in writing in here.
Y'all. This bitch is exhausted. The last 5 months have been the fucking longest 40 years of my life. It isn't all bad exhaustion, just like...general malaise being compounded by depression and feeling overworked. Not because my work forces that on me, I really love my job. But my hours are unconventional, and I feel myself losing time with my amily, and I hate that.
Speaking of losing time with my family, the trip to Nashville was pretty great. I didn't log it the way I do my usual trips, mostly because I wanted to be present instead of curating shit to remember. I let Amber know I wouldn't be exhaustvely documenting our vacation together for that reason, so she didn't feel offended that I didn't do a trip write up. I just wanted to live in the moments we had together, since I see her practically never.
I made her batzina and cucmber salad, we went antiquing, which she had nevr done and that is a must if you're queer, I think. Got harrangued by a lady for wearing masks, acquired another gorgeous beaded purse...I have become osessed with vintage beaded purses. I have a growing collection, and I'm thrilled by them. We got high together and jut talked for hours every night, it was like being kids, but way more fun. Because we had adult money and could do adult stuff. We got our tattoos, and we both had an allergic reaction to the saniderm. Amber's was way mor eunpleasant than mine was, I was pretty worried she was going to end up with her skin rejecting her tattoo entirely. But twenty days later, and we're all healed up. I had intended to take Amber to Nashville for a very fancy dinner at Drusie & Darr, and then we would go to Skull's Rainbow Room for a burlesque show, but on the day of, Amber was like, "ehhhhh....that doesn't really sound fun to me." Was I disappointed? Extremely. I was so fucking bummed about it I wanted to cry, I had really, really been looking forward to that. HOWEVER. The point of the trip was to celebrate not just us as besties for almost 30 years, but Amber's 40th birthday. And if the birthday girl says your birthday plans for them just do not sound like their version of a good time? You don't do it, and you gracefully stay quiet about your disappointment. Because it wasn't an evening about me, it was an evening about celebrating her.
So Amber said she would be much happier staying home and having me make her manicotti, so I did. And I pulled out all the fucking stops for the manicotti. I browned the butter while infusing it with aromatics, THEN I sauteed the onions and mushrooms down in that butter before throwing them into the manicotti mix. I had every intention of making Amber a bechemel to drown her manicotti in, but I ended up making her a gorgeous cheesy garlic bread instead, and forgot to do the bechemel. By the time I remembered, Amber said she didn't care and could do without it. Oops. We got her some coffee ice cream from Talenti, but she didn't end up eating it. Then we watched mmovies and had gummies and had a grand old time.
We went to other antique malls, got hate crimed a bit at one of them (I was admittedly wearing a shit that said SMASH CAPITALISM, announced my queerness, and alerted me as a shoplifter, so maybe I'm partially to blame, but isn't that kind of victim blaming adjacent to say that we got hate crimed because of what I was wearing???), and I found the most amazing dresser that I wanted to buy and flip...I have developed a love of refurbishing furniture and I am currently working on a really gorgeous vanity...but they couldn't get a price to me until it was far too late. Derek and I talked about driving the 6 hours to pick it up the weekend after I got back, but I ultimately decided it wasn't worth it. If I could have gotten the price knocked down a bit, maybe. There was a LOT of damage, and I would have to really redo a lot of stuff on the dresser. I should inquire and see if it's still there. The drive to Clarksville is actually pretty nice, except for the bridge through Paducah. I had a total and complete panic attack driving over that fucking bridge, I thought I was going to vomit and die. No fucking thank you to that. There is a way to get there WITHOUT going over that particular bridge, but it takes an extra 30 minutes and I missed the turn. :/
I've been home for a little over two weeks, and I've been stuck at home with covid for this week. I am tired, and exhausting my PTO, which sucks, because I will need about 80 hours of it for my trip with Derek, my dad, and Caryn to Colorado in June. I should be ok to earn all of it by then, but I am sure I'll have to use some of it between now and then, but I will legit be on none PTO hours at the end of this week. I'll of course earn a few more with this pay day on Friday, but yikes. I'm low.
I have misplaced Alex's homebound application that her doctor signed off on. I have no fucking idea where it is. It was in the car when Derek and I spent our weekend in STL last week (which was a disaster, sometimes Derek is a truly shitty partner), and now it is nowhere to be found. I am aggravated at myself.
I have nothing else to write about at the moment. I think I'm going to take a nap until my next appointment. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.
No comments:
Post a Comment