mumbo-jumbo

alright kiddos.

I am antsy-er than a pig amongst a Polynesian family reunion. I want so badly to escape. Not my life, just the mundane. Everyday, it’s the same routine. Get up, drive to work, work for 7 hours doing absolutely nothing except solving sudoku puzzles, driving home, seeing TK for all of 20 minutes—max, getting ready for job #2, driving to work, working and closing the restaurant, driving all the way back home, and seeing TK for all of another 20 minutes before going back to bed. I want to escape the work, or lack thereof. I want something to challenge in a good way rather than the challenge of NOT jumping into a tanning bed and setting the timer on infinite until my brain is LITERALLY fried rather than just figuratively. I need a new job, we need a new place to live (our landlords are screwing us royally), and I need something to do while TK is at work.

I love my husband. He has been so good. He has been at his job for the last four months and has hated it since day one. Literally, he came home that very first day and I still remember his odium for it. But he has stuck with it. Not because he knows we’d be screwed without that source of income (because I don’t think he DOES believe that… he’s very free spirited and believes that we could make it on my minimum wage because he’d rather live to enjoy, not live to work, but I digress) but because he knows how much it means to me to feel secure. Now no, we aren’t well off. We are still poor newly weds, where our biggest asset lies within Jezebel, my 1997 Chrysler Sebring in which I treat like crap, and it shows.

Although I have never been good at STICKING to a budget, I AM very good in managing one. I know that doesn’t make sense, but I am constantly crunching numbers and figuring how we’re going to make it from week to week. But then I am the one who is always wanting to go grab dinner because we have such bare cupboards and asking to go to Idaho to visit my brother and sister and Omaha to see my long lost friends.

Which brings me back to me being antsy. I need to get out. When I DO get a night off, oh how I cherish those evenings, I sit at home and do basically nothing. My husband is at work and I turn into a sack of potatoes. I know that I could be productive, but I am a people person. I need interaction. I need to go out with a group of people my own age, grow bonds with them, laugh and enjoy myself. My husband is amazing. Our time together is irreplaceable and I take advantage of it every moment I get, I just, I’m a social butterfly that got shoved back into her cocoon. I hate living somewhere in which I have no connections. I have my work, the salon, where I work alone. And Friday’s, where I work with a bunch of juvenile high school students as well as juvenile adults in which I doubt will ever grow up. I don’t want to be classified as such. I am working to make ends meet. But its not the end in which I want to obtain.

We look forward to making friends in our new ward, but, nothing against my own religion whatsoever, I have never really made too many close bonds with those in whom I have attended church with. I’m, lets say, unique, because that is the nicest way in which I know how to put it, and will probably attract the least amount of scrutiny by those who read this. I’m just not your traditional Mormon I guess. But our church is the only link in which I have, right now, to people outside of my family.

Family. As I sit here, bored, I am even tempted with the idea of expanding that term. Now as some of you know, TK and I have no intention of expanding our little family for quite some time. But sitting here, I can’t help but think of how if I did have a baby, we could go for walks while waiting for daddy to get home from work or play at the park. Yes I know, silly thoughts. But one day.

Any who. I am SERIOUSLY rambling like crazy now. So I am going to end.

Peace, love, and cookiedough.