Snarke

Okay, my house is mostly clean (about as clean as its going to get anyway).  I’ve finished my work for the week.  Thanksgiving weekend can start now! Yayy!

(Also? How is NaBloPoMo almost over already??)

Last night Will came home from his school and told me, very proudly, that he had defended my honor to one of his friends.  Curious and a little bit incensed that this friend would even attempt to..dishonor (disparage?)  my honor I asked what had happened.  Apparently this friend was giving Will crap about how even though we are less than financially stable, Will hasn’t made me get a job.  I guess Will responded with “she has a job, she just works from home” and the friend was all “yeah, but I’m talking about a real job.”

I like this friend, he’s usually pretty smart and nice but dude? Eat my shorts.  Seriously.

That kind of thinking is one of the hardest parts about being in freelance.  People assume that all I do is sit around all day surfing blogs, chewing on my hair and gloating over not having to do any “real” work.  For the record?  I’m not spending my days surfing blogs and reading People Magazine’s website (unless I need to for a client).  I don’t watch daytime television.  I don’t lie around reading trashy romance novels.  I am not lazy.  I’m not choosing not to get a real job because this? IS my real job. And honestly? This is probably the hardest job I’ve ever had.  Yes, 90% of it involves spending copious amounts of time on the internet but dudes: I write content and web copy.  What the hell do you expect?

I know how this job looks from the outside.  I’m pretty lucky.  I can work at home in my pajamas.  On days when I do not feel like sitting upright I can lie on the couch with my laptop and still get my stuff done.  I can have whatever background noise I want.  I can leave the house and work from wherever I want (as long as it has WiFi).  If I need a break I can take it.  I don’t have to ask to go to the bathroom and I don’t have to worry about covering my shift if I get sick.

BUT.

If I don’t work I don’t get paid.

I don’t automatically get health insurance even though I put in 40-50 hours a week.

I have to pay for all of my business materials (business cards, printer toner, internet access etc) myself.

I spend almost all day alone with only a cat to talk to and the cat? Is over me already.

How much work I get done depends directly on my ability to focus and how much energy I have.

This is not work I can “phone it in” on or just do the bare minimum to get by.

I don’t get paid for busy work like filing or filling out paperwork.

I can’t spend a whole day avoiding my actual work load and still take home a paycheck at the end of the week.

Oh and did I mention?

If I don’t work I don’t get paid.  I don’t get paid for sitting here.  I only get paid for what I produce and sell.

I love my job but sometimes I get really frustrated by people who just don’t get it and who won’t try.  A few months ago, a got an e-mail from another friend who had come across a part time job opportunity and wanted to let me know “you know, in case you ever feel like actually working for a living.”  The friend meant well, but? Ouch.

This blog post doesn’t really have a point except to vent.  Like a lot of jobs, this is one you won’t understand unless you do it yourself.

And let’s not even start about Will getting crap for not “making” me do something.  Please.  What are we, back in the 50s?  What kind of wacky ideas does this guy have about marriage anyway?

How do you solve the need for lunch stuff when you’re low on funds and you know that your fridge is going to be packed to the gills with Thanksgiving leftovers in a few days?  If you’re me and you’re going through a fried rice phase, you make a gigundo pan of veggie fried rice–a pan filled so full that there is enough for your dinner, your husband’s dinner and lunch and snacks for a couple of days.  I predict it will conveniently run out on Wednesday afternoon.

Today I am quite proud to report that I have completed my to do list.  I didn’t think I would–there was a lot on it and I got a late start, but I finished it and that makes me happy.  What makes me happier is finishing it with enough time left in the day to lay back down on the couch and watch some Ally McBeal on DVD (I’m Netflixing my way through it).

Tomorrow is another long to-do list that includes work and cleaning our apartment.  I’ve kind of fallen off of the “must keep it clean!” wagon over the last few weeks but my parental unit is visiting for Thanksgiving and, well, it’s not that she’s picky (even though she is, Hi Mom!) it’s more that if it isn’t clean when she gets here, she’ll start making hints about cleaning that will get stronger and stronger until she just starts doing it herself.  And, you know, I’m kind of too old to have my Mom picking up behind me.

I don’t remember if I told you but last weekend I rented My Life in Ruins via On Demand and you know what? It was super cute.  I thought it was going to be the continuation of the My Big Fat Greek Wedding Story but it isn’t.  It’s a new story but the characters feel very familiar.  Also? Richard Dreyfuss just cannot be obnoxious, no matter how hard he tries.

I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving.  I always look forward to Thanksgiving, it’s my favorite holiday.  There’s nothing quite like getting together with family (remember, I like mine), gorging yourself on a bunch of super awesome food and then spending the rest of the day in a food induced dopey haze.  Oh and I think this year we will be watching the super mega awesome special edition of Star Trek! Woo!

One of the things I love most about my job is how much of it I spend inside my own head–planning, tweaking, figuring out directions to take, that sort of thing.  I love that I can do it while I lay on my couch in my pajamas watching Gilmore Girls on DVD (just finished season 5) and while we go shopping for stuff for Thanksgiving dinner.

Incidentally? We got all of our Thanksgiving dinner prep stuff for under $60.  Woo!  Thank God for WinCo!

I love that even though I spent most of the day on the couch watching TV, I can also call it a work day because I was going over stuff (on my laptop and in my head) and setting up my moves for Monday and Tuesday.  I have a jam packed couple of days ahead of me but I love jam packed working days, so they should be fun.

Right now I feel very “bring on the week!”  I’m hoping I still feel that way when I wake up in the morning.

So earlier tonight I read something completely offensive on Facebook by somebody that is on my friends list and ohhhh man I wanted to go off on that person because seriously? Poor taste.  Instead, I posted on my own status update “wonders where the damn dislike button is when you need it.”

Within an hour the person with the horrendous status update had done the thumbs up thing on mine.

Irony.  It’s what’s for dinner.

I do not understand something and maybe you can help me:

When I do laundry once every seven days, we usually have three loads of laundry

When I do laundry after eight days: we have four loads of laundry.

when I do laundry after twelve days: we have five loads of laundry.

I do not understand how waiting so long to do more laundry does not result in way more loads of laundry unless I decide to toss in extra stuff that only needs to be washed rarely like blankets.

Thoughts?

I have a new door!  And you know what?

Like hell it was only supposed to take two hours.

According to the notice we got, the team needed two hours to take out the old door and put in the new door and at no time during that process would our apartment be left unattended. You know, in case we were both out of the house like normal adults are on a Thursday morning and afternoon.

Can I just say?  It is a damn good thing that I was home while they installed the door.  Because? Those jerks got the new door up and took off for lunch–leaving it with no door frame, no deadbolt and–wait for it–no doorknob.  That’s right.  Apparently not leaving the apartment unattended meant leaving the apartment unattended and wiiiiide open for whoever passed by.  For an hour.

And then it took them three hours after they got back from lunch to install the door frame, the door knob, the lock and to drill a new peephole which I have absolutely no hope of ever being able to see out of unless I drag a step stool over to the door first.

Honestly, I shouldnt’ complain too much.  I have a new door.  It has weatherstripping on the bottom to keep the heat in.  It’s made out of stronger stuff (I think) than our old door.  And? the lock? Now actually turns.  Even in cold weather.  Without my having to push or pull my entire body weight against the door to get the thing into just the right position so that the lock will turn.  The lock now? Like butter. Love.

But still.  Thank god I was home otherwise any old person could have waltzed right in and taken whatever they wanted and nobody would have been the wiser until Will or I had gotten home.

In other news, I don’t really have a lot of other news.  It’s the best television night of the week.  The cat just walked across my keyboard and accidentally wrote “i 8 u” which is kind of funny because Will and I often debate on just how badly Poppy wishes she could, in fact, eat us.  I’ve spent most of the day in stinky pjs because I wasn’t sure when the door guys would show up and then, well, there were door guys here (or I had no door).  Will brought my chicken fingers from Fred Meyer for lunch and I’m trying to decide if I want to make Chicken Alfredo for dinner or if that would be too much chicken in one day.

About a month and a half ago, we found a notice from our landlord that all of the front doors in our apartment complex were going to be replaced with fancy new titanium doors that would help keep the heat from escaping (the ill fitting old doors weren’t so great about that since most of them had ginormous amounts of space between the bottom of the door and the door frame–our feet would feel breezes, that’s how big the space was).  Will and I are extremely glad for this development since it is supposed to cut down on our heating costs and it doesn’t raise our rent (as far as we know).  So, since we live close to the back of our complex, we’ve spent the last few weeks watching the new door installations get closer and closer to our apartment.

Our new door gets installed tomorrow.  Today, they are working on the doors upstairs.  And? It is loud.  Reeeeeeally reeeeeeeeally loud.  Impossible to work, impossible to nap, impossible to think and impossible to leave since they have the stairwell blocked with their equipment LOUD.

Thankfully, they’re supposed to be done working by four every afternoon so I only have a few more hours of the sawing and scraping and banging and equipment noise and, after that? I’m totally taking a nap.

I am sooooooo tired—the work on the upstairs doors made it impossible to go back to sleep this morning after Will left for school.  If I wasn’t off caffeine I would TOTALLY be making myself some chai right now.  E-gad.

At least I get a new door out of it, right?

Target did not help us save any money today.  At all.  Why must they have such awesome sales (she inquired in with a banshee-like cry)?

We went in because we needed some stuff like soap and shave gel and dress shoes for Will and, okay, Star Trek.  And the best place to get all of that without having to make a bunch of trips or pay too much is Target.  But Target, it was having one of its massive DVD sales.

How massive?

Try Grey’s Anatomy season 4 for $18.99

Try Scrubs season 8 for $14.99

Try Gilmore Girls for $14.99 for each season.

Yowzers.  We were powerless to resist (especially when Grey’s and Gilmore Girls both usually cost up in the 40-60 range for a season)!

We might have gone in for just one DVD but we came out with that one DVD and then Season 4 of Grey’s Anatomy, Seasons 4 and 5 of Gilmore Girls (the two I was missing), Season 8 of Scrubs and the Life on Mars (American version).

I’d say oops but I’ve decided that it wasn’t a mistake, we were victimized by Target’s awesomeness!

And now we really aren’t buying anything for a while because we can’t afford it.  Target has sucked us dry.

I made roughly a kazillion pounds of dinner for myself tonight (Will is in class) and ate two plates full of it and you know what?  I think I might still be hungry.  Except I can’t tell if I’m really hungry or if it was just so darn tasty that I don’t want to stop eating it.  I’ve decided to take a break from stuffing my face to blog and lay down and let the food settle.  I read somewhere, I can’t remember where, that it takes twenty minutes for your stomach to tell your brain that it’s full.  The last thing I want is to be in pain from my yummy broccoli and beef dinner (used a recipe I printed out forever ago, and can’t remember the website or I’d link to it) and fried rice.  I am getting REALLY good at fried rice (I use the recipe in the Taste of Home Cookbook as a base but have added corn and broccoli).  I know I’d like to have some of it on hand every day just in case I was in a fried rice mood.

Today was a good work day.  I got a lot done and was very pleased with myself for getting as much done as I did, especially since I accidentally slept in until almost 11:30. Oops.  Can’t do it tomorrow though!  Will has some big dinner thing for his major at school (though it involves driving to Corvallis, weird) and we need to get him dress shoes and stock up on stuff at Target so I’ll be pulling a split wiiiide apart work day.  A little in the morning and a lot in the evening.  Should be interesting.  I wonder if I can squeeze in a nap.

Hot damn, isn’t my life exciting?