More People Read This Than I Think Read This

It has been a week of being reminded that there are lurkers out there who appreciate when I post. I don't know why. But it's a nice little motivator to do it again.

I haven't posted a ton mainly because I don't quite know what to do with me. I am in one of those places (again) where I am fussy, fussy, fussy and grumpy, grumpy, grumpy about the fact that I am fussy, fussy, fussy. There is an unpublished blog entry that I started on January 11 that is titled, "Who Am I to Be?" And somehow the intellectual answer of "all God has made me to be" wasn't cutting it, because I don't know who or what that is.

My job has changed a ton in the last year. I am not particularly good at it. Do I stick it out and try to rise to the occasion, or get somewhere where I know what I am doing?

I love my new house. I want to make it homey and welcoming and have people come and be refreshed and relaxed there. I want to serve yummy food and have the guest bedroom and bathroom be just what every person who comes in the door needs it to be. But I am not there enough to make that happen, and I don't know how to cook and I don't particularly enjoy doing it, and I do still like my job enough that I am content to come home after a full day of work and pass out and be glad there is no one who needs my hospitality, and in fact, I would kinda appreciate being tended to. What do I do with all that? Which person am I? Which person am I supposed to be?

It stinks to live alone but I don't want a roommate because I want the house to be available for my family and friends and visitors whenever I want. I want to have my cake and eat it, too.

Wah, wah, wah.

AND...I realized this other weird thing today. I keep wanting to be quiet and subdued and blend into the crowd more, but when I do that, people think there is something wrong with me. I have been in a funk, sure, but here in the office and stuff it just means I am calmer and quieter and more task-focused and less goofy and less talky and more to the point.

I can't tell you the number of people this week who have called, left notes, or stopped by to check on me to see if I am okay.

Why aren't they just happy I am quiet for once?

So, what does that say, if anything, about me trying to be more introverted, and, (forgive me) be more typical Christian-girlie-be-seen-and-not-heard-nice-lady, and not be so bloomin' silly? People are freaked out, and kinda depressed about it. What is that?

And a friend I hadn't talked to in a while, who I finally caught up on the end of the Tony story, said yesterday, "It was so wonderful that you let people in on this experience and your heart process through the last year. What a gift that was to people."

What? I said thank you, and I would try to think about it that way, but mostly I just think people would have appreciated me keeping my yap shut a little more frequently. She said, "Oh no, people should be more transparent like that more often. We aren't open enough about the real issues in our lives."

So why do I feel so flippin' bad about being me so much of the time, and I invest all this energy into trying to be different, and that doesn't seem to fit the bill either? If being more "me" is the right way to go, why do I balk against it so much?

And how does that cool thing Beth posted by C.S. Lewis fit into all that?

So, there you go.

Brighter Thoughts This Morning

Well, I took a page of notes this morning during church about some really deep observations of my current spiritual journey. Was gonna blog it. Came home and made corned beef and cabbage instead. Now must get to bed.

Finished my tax prep to mail off, too, lest you think it took me all day to cook and eat cabbage.

But it does take freaking forever to clean up after cooking. And when it's just me I cooked for, it's annoying. There should be more people here to eat on the three days a month that I cook something.

But I need to get back in the habit of being on here. Thus, in the words of Mr. Portokalos, "So, there you go."

Corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, gravy (which was an adventure in itself when you are a kitchen dummy--the reason you don't add the flour while your liquid is boiling, Sluss will now always remember, is because you get lots of lumps, which I affectionately termed "mini-dumplings"), and a bottle of New Belgium 1554 Enlightened Black Ale. Most pleasant. And chased with a little dish of butterscotch pudding that I cooked last night.

That's right--cooked. If it says "Jell-O Cook & Serve Pudding & Pie Filling" on the box, then I had to cook it to eat it. And boiling milk is a little stressful, so I want credit.

Night, night.

Kathie's House of Horrors

"Must get something on blog, must get something on blog"...maybe if I put up a few sentences, I will get more on here tomorrow.

For now, I will tell you the horrible thing I discovered about my house in the past 36 hours. Apparently, I was a sheltered girl on the mountain. Do you know what lives at houses on flat ground, like my new house?

One million earthworms. Uuuuggghhhhhhh-ggggaaaccchhhkkkkkkk!!! Disgusto!

OK, Sluss, just shake it off, shake it off. Tell the story.

The Story and Some Math

It rained a bunch yesterday. I now own 3 areas of lawn.

Rain + Lawn = Patio + Driveway loaded with earthworms = My gag reflex > My biology empathy

I discovered all the ones on the back patio while I was on the phone with my mom yesterday evening. They were in little puddles. I asked her if I should sweep them off into the yard before they got all dried up and crispy. She said, "I don't know. Maybe if you try to sweep them they will just goosh all over."

Gag reflex > Scrunched up, contorted face = yelling, "MOM! Nasty!" < Mom laughing hysterically

So I swept while we talked, which meant I basically launched water-logged worms out to land on top the grass, so they can get crispy there instead of the patio. I felt kinda bad, like I added impaling on grass blades to their already miserable journey of death. Insult to injury.

Then, this morning, I went out to put something in the mailbox (which, if I may digress, is quite the coolest thing after having to drive to a post office for most of my life...oh, the joy of mail at the house). I was basically looking down, watching my slippers as I came around the corner of the little path from my front door to the driveway, when my brow furrowed at the sight of worms in my way.

I glanced up to find my driveway decorated like Mardi Gras with brown, wiggly, squishy confetti.

Dude. I walked to my mailbox like I was in a minefield, and side-stepped my way back to the house. I didn't go out again today, and I am not even going to think about what will happen when I pull out of my driveway to go to church tomorrow morning.

I can already hear it in my head..."Pop, pop, poppity, pop, pop..."

Grass is overrated. I miss pine needles.