Slacker

I have been a horrible slacker. In so many ways. For one thing, I've slacked with the blog. Others have commented upon it. Including Daddy. Apologies. I will try to be better. Especially since one of the main reasons I started this damn thing was to encourage me to write regularly.

I have also slacked in many, many other ways. Which I've come to realize lately as I complain about one thing or the other. (I complain a lot, I'm a Gemini.) In many of the cases the person I'm complaining to (complaining at?) expresses sympathy and while I appreciate that sympathy I end up saying, "well, I only have myself to blame" or some variation on that. I have brought all these evils upon myself and now I'm going to have to work about a thousand times harder to fix everything so it can be maintained with average effort.

My Lawn. My beautiful, beautiful back yard. After my glorious day of mowing a million years ago I have neglected it. It was too hot or I was too tired or I wanted to do some weeding before mowing again or I had big plans or I know nothing about gardening (this last one is very true, I know NOTHING - Help ME!) blah blah blah. Whatever. I pussed out and now it's a jungle. The grass is super tall and I may have to whack it down before I can even mow it. Weeds have grown up so big and bad I think they might have devoured my azaleas. The back area which could be a great garden of some sorts is almost completely made up of weeds. The hammock is covered in twigs and things. The porch is littered with dried earthworm carcasses. It's a jungle. And it's my own damn fault. And I have to fix it. I've been yanking tall big weeds and pulling vines that are growing into the lilly bed. I have a few more hours of this before I can mow. 'Cause I want to try and yank the weeds out by the roots now that I can see them as weeds, which I don't think I'll be able to do so well once I've mowed them down. After I do that I'll mow. And after I mow I'll need to do more weeding and attack the back plot. And salvage the hammock. And sweep the porch. And clean the grill. All the while doing whatever I can to save the azaleas. I've cleared the weeds from them and have been watering them. But they're so brown and sad and I fear it might be too late. Still, it's not too late for the whole yard. And maybe after all this work I can have a yard that requires only a few hours of mowing and weeding a week in the spring and summer and only a few hours of maintenance a month in the fall and winter. We shall see.

The House. My apartment has gotten gross. It's a cute place but I have become the world's worst litterbox cleaner. And of course I chose to claim this title in the summer. When it's hot. And stinky. When the flies come out to play. Ah. The flies. One particularly bad time I just let the box go. For way too long. And the flies came. And now they won't leave. And I'll have to buy fly paper. And pray. And hopefully the flies will be gone soon. And one day the cats will remember that they're supposed to pee in the box and not on the floor beside the box. And life will be good. But, sadly, it's not just the catbox. Cat hair is on everything because I have some kind of aversion to my vacuum (maybe I need the Roomba). And I own too much crap and need to get rid of it. And I need to learn more about this verb "dust". I'm familiar with the noun "dust" as said noun is all over my furniture. I need to file all my papers and keepsakes away. I need to have a stoop sale and unload all the crap I collect because I have my Dad's compulsion to buy, buy, buy. I need to admit I'm never going to listen to the majority of my cassette tapes again and unload them. Things like that. I need to do my dishes and clean my fridge and reorganize my pots and my linen closet and all that crap. And I've started. Tuesday night, while avoiding more weeding (I weeded on Monday so hush up) I decided to clean the cat box which led to vacuuming which led to mopping which led to a pretty floor. Yay. And I tried out this pet hair/odor carpet thing last night that kinda works. You still need to put some effort into the vacuuming but it helps. Anyway, lots to do there, but I'm working on it.

My Fat Ass. As explored earlier this week, my eating and exercise habits are just embarrassing and it's led to a fat butt and a thick heart. Sometime in my adulthood I decided that eating a bag of chips while waiting for the mac (of boxed mac & cheese) to boil and then eating another bag of chips with the mac & cheese constituted an acceptable dinner. There are many other food crimes I used to commit on a daily basis, but I think I've embarrassed myself enough. You get the idea. And, as with everything else, it's all really my fault. My doctor was talking about getting me to a nutritionist and was asking me about how many calories I eat in a day. He was thinking I must have a slow metabolism and might need some help. And then I explained I eat about 3000 - 4000 calories a day. The fat ass, is all my own dam fault. I don't want to be as big as I am. I want to be in better shape. But until now I've never really wanted it enough. I would try diets for a while and eventually say screw it and inhale food again. I have tried different gyms and work outs and eventually gave those up. But it's just too much of a problem for me and now I must fix it. And I'm making progress so far. I'm down 10 pounds from my late June doctor's visit of doom. I'm paying more attention to what and how much I put in my mouth and I'm going out walking and all of that. Plus, the housework and yard work is making me more active and thus helping the ass as well. Though my poor interweb and TiVo are starting to feel a little neglected. Poor, poor little TiVo. Stuffed full on all those Daily Shows and bad shows I won't admit in writing that I watch.

My Job/Career. Once upon a time I was going to save the world. Then I was going to go to med school and become a doctor. And then I decided I was going to be an actress. The hell? A career where who you know and how you look matters more than anything else combined? Yeah, that's a wise choice for me. Or not. But I chose it, so I came to New York to do a little theatre and hang out while waiting for my fiance to graduate, at which point we could move elsewhere. The fiance didn't work out, New York and I fell in love and the acting attempt was rather half-assed. I quickly became disillusioned with the NYC theatre scene and decided to take a break and just make money and have a good time. That break has lasted years and years and I think I'm finally admitting I'm never going back to acting full time. Or even mildly part time. My current job pays me fairly well, but it's a crap job and I'm never going to go anywhere in it. And this is where I've been for a couple of years. But I don't know what to do and I don't know how to get out of the rut. But I have to get out of it. I have to find a job that gives me something more than a paycheck. It might just be me sending my resume out and seeing what sticks, trying something in theatre production or management. Or maybe going back to school and looking into becoming a therapist. I don't know. But I have to do something and I have to do it soon. 'Cause I'm tired of being a slacker in a job that kind of embarrasses me and makes me angry way too often. And that's the one thing on this list I've made almost no progress on. But it's on the list. This anti-slacker list.

I'm never going to land a husband now, am I? Now you all know the truth? The bad housekeeping, the fat ass, the constant complaining. Dammit.