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Thursday, February 14, 2013

Monday, February 11, 2013

Think like a rabbit


I took this picture, using my phone which was found shortly after I posted about it's untimely death, early this morning. I really thought nothing of it at the time, little bunny feet and a bunny tail, its owner's path imprinted on our driveway, my not-dressed-for-the-weather feet that managed to sneak their way in. I can't really put my finger on it, but I have been stealing a few minutes here and there to go back and take another look.

The cold here has been relentless, negative whatever-the-fuck even without the windchill. Everyday there seems to be new snow on the ground and there is no point in looking at the weekly forecast. Wind, snow, cold, maybe some sun, maybe not, it all just blends together after being months deep in the whole production. We spend our days inside, bringing in snowballs for the kids to eat because, really, getting two kids dressed to go out in this? If we even manage to get that far before one of the kids starts crying or pulling off an article of clothing that took so much effort to get on in the first place, do we really want to spend more than two minutes out in that nonsense?

Some days we splurge and take them to the play area at the mall. Most days we chase them around the house, throw them into piles made of blankets on the bed, tickle them until everyone is out of breath, or finally give in and turn on Netflix just when everything is about to go to hell. We get by, day by day, dreaming of March or maybe April but definitely May, when the ground will be warm and we can all sit outside and dig our bare feet into the grass. But, for now, we sit in the warmest places we can, shield ourselves from the elements the best we know how and hope that this whole winter schminter stuff moves on before we really start going crazy.

But those rabbits, the same ones that eat my plants during the summer and irritate the pugs, well, they just go on leaving their little butt prints in the snow. Nothing seems to phase them, which is something I envy, although their living situation under our deck isn't really my cup of tea.

Monday, February 4, 2013

It's for real this time.

Have you ever lost something that is a pretty essential part of your every day life? Your id, a credit card, maybe your entire wallet. Or maybe it was a key, or all of the keys, your glasses or the garage door opener. What about your phone?

Personally, I've lost (misplaced, whatever) each of those things dozens of times, sometimes all of them in one day. I've had the moments of total panic where my husband and I are running around the house, tearing it apart because I need to be at work very soon and I won't be able to get my car out of the garage because OHFUCKWHEREARETHEOPENERS. And then I begin frantically tearing apart my brain because shit, how do you get into the garage without the opener? OH WAIT, I have a key! But fuckerfuckshitdicks, it's on my key ring and WHERE IS THAT. Do I even have my glasses on? Crap, they were all in my purse the entire time and how in the fuckerfuckshitdicks did I miss that? And then life goes on, I clock in to work on time and the end of the world never comes.

Until today. I cannot find my phone. I went to Target last night, it died, I navigated my way home on crappy roads with windshield wipers that decided to go on strike, made it home in time to see my lady Beyonce, washed some kids, put some kids to sleep, watched some Girls and then went to bed. I woke up this morning, lined everything up on the counter and then, as it always starts, I realize I can't find my phone five seconds before I needneedNEED to leave.

It's so gone that I actually called Target and said, "I know this is totally pointless, but did anyone happen to turn in a white iPhone last night? Oh no? Imagine that. Awesome. Thanks."

I picture it sleeping silently in the snow mushy parking lot, freezing and scared, completely dead and totally useless. Or maybe it's under the bed, stolen by a certain thief of a toddler, placed there for safekeeping. Or one of the cats took it and buried it in the litter pan. Maybe I left it in one of the Target bags and then threw it out, thinking it was empty? Who fucking knows.

I feel like I'm missing my leg. I'm on this crazy verge of having a nervous breakdown, not because I'm one of those psychos who feels as though they have given birth to their phone, their Precious, their one and only. No, I just hate not being able to find my things.

Fuckerfuckshitdicks.