Earlier this week, I was paging through my 500+ posts on this blog and fixing the ones with images that were too large when I got hooked in by a group of posts I wrote midway through my pregnancy with Jada.  ÂÂ
Usually when I reread an old post, no matter how old, the memories surrounding it are readily accessible within the far reaches of my cerebrum.   However, this time I think the index cards got lost. I couldn’t remember whatever the hell I was talking about in those posts. Pregnancy doesn’t just mess with your body.
Fuck, this explains why I’m having to re-watch the last 10 episodes of Battlestar Galactica Season 2 now.  I know I watched the fracking season, but I can’t remember any beyond the midway point.  I must have watched those episodes when I was still pregnant with Maya.
They say a woman’s brain shrinks by up to 5% during pregnancy affecting things like motor skills, problem solving and memory.   Ya… I’m glad I have my memory back.   I wonder when the other two will follow.
We just received a notice of violation today for rotted wood on the exterior of our house. Another one, again… for the same thing.  sigh
But not all is lost.  This time we can call the city up and say “wAhT BEEOCH! We fixed our house THREE MONTHS AGO! In your FACE!? IN YOUR FAACE!”
Well, the call didn’t exactly go that way, of course.  I used more of a be-my-friend type tone.
“Hello this is Tania. Case number echo-gamma-C0-4UB33CH-5387-964335-epsilon-2-0-123-XYZ but I’m sure you have my face, address, and case number pinned on your Building & Zoning Department’s Most Wanted wall anyway. I received a notice of violation (why else would I be calling) and realize that by this time your department probably just assumes that there is still wood rot on my house but, really, you should at least do a quick drive by every quarter to confirm that my house is still standing. Would you be so kind as to remove me from your bi-monthly ThreatsR’Us mailing list. I’m sure you will be ecstatic to learn that my humble abode is no longer an ugly and rotting humble abode, thankyouverymuch!”
Ah it feels good!
We really must be careful tho.  Soon they will start issuing violation notices to us for having a naked house. It hasn’t been painted since we had it re-stucco’d.  Shame on us.
Every morning I get to work and before the first hour is out I either walk over to Dunkin Donuts or someone else goes and and I put in my order for a medium regular light and sweet. I just love my coffee. It’s so warm and yummy.
…but there’s a downside.
By the time 10am rolls in I have turned into a jittery mess. I might be yawning uncontrollably by then. My muscles tense up more and more as the minutes pass and I have to stop myself about every 10 minutes and lean back in my chair try to relax and take a deep breath. My chest is the worst. I don’t know if it’s my heart or just the muscles in that area. But it’s an uptight, anxious, jumpy kind of a mess.
God I hate this feeling. From now on, decaf.
So I decided today that this blog was ready enough for the bulk of my earlier posts to get importted. I tried importing them 3 different ways but finally just did it the easiest way I knew how.
Most of my posts online were made on Livejournal so I had those export files ready for days and days. Importing them is easy but I wanted to see if I could preserve categories. No such luck. Now I’ve got like 500+ “Uncategorized” posts. What a bitch. I really want to recategorize, tag them but goddamn it’s toing to take a long ass time.
I’ll get it done tho.
I had thought of doing something else as well and decided tonight it would be cool. I started keeping a journal when I was about 12.. that’s 1984-ish. I still have those diaries. I want to copy them here as well. The Thoughts of a Prepubescent Me. heh.. My first few weeks of journaling were things like “I went to the supermarket today with my aunt and uncle…”. In fact, that is my first post.
My “dear diary” entries between age 15 and 17 were especially interesting. Lots of talk of boyfriends and love. It’s going to be fun reading those again.
So I had been thinking today, like I do most days, about how I always intend on getting things done that need getting done.. that have been way overdue to get done.. that weigh heavy on my mind.. but which I continue to fail to get done. and uh….ÂÂ
ugh.. I don’t want to talk about this.  Maybe some other time.
My husband called about an hour ago to tell me that he just found out that the son of the president of our HOA is a registered sex offender.  He lives on the other side of our community.  I took a look..  read his online ‘flyer’ (bio and summary of the offense), did a neighborhood search.  There are 43 registered sex offenders within a 5 mile radius of my address.
I read a few of their ‘flyers’ and after a while I became disgusted and had to close out my browser.  It’s tough to know exactly what the president of our HOA’s son did because the description of his offense sounds like it could cover anything from raping a 12 year old to dating a 17 year old.ÂÂ
Searching the sex offender database always puts me in a bad mood. I’ve got a pressure face-ache right now. My eyes feel heavy.  I want to get in bed and sleep.  I can worry myself into a shakey mess even on a great day.. now I’m feeling sick in my stomach just thinking about how I’m supposed to protect my kids from sick bastards like those in that database.  Like the 43 living in the immediate area.  There’s a middle school accross the street for christ sake.  I can hear the kids doing gym class from my front door!
  If this were a battle in a war, we’d lose.  We’ve been surrounded.
Current Mood:
Nauseated,
Worried
Mellow
Hyper
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