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Monday, December 11, 2017

Stop Humping The...Telephone?!?

So, saying, "Stop humping the telephone, Vern..." wasn't in my list of the top 10 things I might say during the course of my day today.  But, it was in fact, something I did say.  Oye!

See, my husband is kind of amazing.  And he likes to spoil me.  Enter Vern: my new robotic vacuum.  I *may* have mentioned that I wanted one.  Well, he thought to help eliminate some of my stress around the holidays and my compulsive need to vacuum every five hours or so, and thus - I became the proud owner of Vern, my automated vacuum.

I proudly plugged Vern in to charge last night and couldn't wait to unleash him this morning.  The directions say he'll vacuum for two hours for a total of about 2100 sq. ft.  Well...that's enough power to easily do my entire first floor!  Go Vern!  And because I'm mainly psychotic, I felt the need to follow him around for a large portion of my morning to discover what he would actually vacuum. 

Here is what I've discovered:

  1. My cat, also likes to follow Vern around, with a 100% judgmental look on her face
  2. My dog is unimpressed by Vern and refuses to get up, forcing Vern to vacuum around her
  3. Vern has now vacuumed under my dining room table seven times. [Jesus, it must be REALLY dirty under there...]
  4. Vern is a primadonna and refuses to brave the carpet lip into my living room and vacuum in there; yet - 
  5. Vern enjoys going baja'ing and flipping over my throw rugs in the kitchen
  6. Vern thinks charging cords are food and will stick around trying to eat them
  7. Vern especially enjoys driving up on...  "Goddamnitall, Vern!  Stop humping the telephone!"
Vern drove right up on the house phone and dock that is on the floor next to the couch in my family room.  I shouted at him [like he was one of my unruly children] and ran over to move him off of my freaking phone.  "Vern, what's wrong with you?  Stay off the telephone!" I admonished.  

At this point I walked away to do some other chore.  Five minutes later, I hear a weird grinding noise coming from the...oh, you guessed it!  Vern was back humping the phone again.  His little wheels moving him back & forth, up & down on top of the phone and docking station.  Oh.  My.  Gawd.

I picked him up once more and set him back down close by.  I now realize that he's not merely lonely, but has a phone fetish.  Best to nip this in the bud.  I pick up the phone and rest it and the dock on the arm of the couch.  There.  That'll fix you...

Having the root of temptation removed, Vern was free to go about his business and finish sucking up life's little messes.  And while Vern won't replace my vacuuming totally, he's good at alleviating my psychotic need to tidy up all the time.  But a word of advice should you get your own Vern...don't let him hump your phone.

Friday, December 1, 2017

I Do What I Want

Admit it, you've had that dream too.  You know the one.  The one where you answer only to yourself.  The one where "the Man" doesn't tell YOU what to do.  The one where you set your own hours and do your own thing: working for yourself.

I've had that dream as long as I can remember.  I wanted to open my own cookie shop.  I mean, I make cookies.  And they're damned delicious.  But I've had every excuse in the book: I don't have the money.  I need to do research.  I need to test out shipping.  I have shin splints.  Whatever the reason, I fed it to myself as a reason to not go out and do....until now.

And, granted, it's not cookies.  But it's mine just the same.  When I stepped away from the working world in October for personal ethical reasons; or as my husband likes to call it, "Whoa!  Didn't they know you don't like people to play in your sandbox?"  I was sitting at home with my dog and crocheting. 

I had this brilliant idea that I could make baby blankets.  And why not?  I'm good at it.  I'm creative.  I have time on my hands, and it'll be mine.  All mine.  And I'll call him George, Baby George.  Wait, no...that was Bugs Bunny.  Whew, I've been watching WAY too much TV while I do this.  Anywho, I figured, I could do what I love in between the moments of life that weren't taking my breath away and sell these little suckers on Etsy and hopefully make back enough money to keep me in yarn.

I conned my bestest into making me a logo.  I mean, what's the good in having an Illustrator for a best friend if you can't poach her services?  And that's what she did.  She made me a logo.  See?

Then I set about working.  I've got seven blankets to show for my time out of the "working world" and I've got two more in the works.  I'm working on their write ups, as I have a specific vision.  I'm not sure if it'll get me places or sales, but a girl can try.  I figure I'll do those smart-assed write ups that I was so good at when I ran a social committee for years and years.  And then maybe they're not just buying a boring old baby blanket, but a sassy side piece as well.

The point of all this is: I'm scared.  It's a smaller-ish scared though.  If I fail, I'll only be out about $200 start up capital, but I'm more afraid my pride will be crushed because it's oh-so hard to believe in yourself and follow through.  But yesterday, when the cards were on the table and I'd promised enough people and I had run out of excuses - no one was falling for that shin splint thing again - I did it.  I opened my first shop:

Check me out.  Pass me along.  Let me know if you're ever in need of a baby blanket, or if you want an afghan, we can work something out.  And maybe pray for me, or send good vibes out there...or whatever it is that you do - I'll take any kind - because I feel like I'm going to throw up.  I mean, I have nothing to lose; and my seat belt is buckled, my chair is in its full & upright position and my tray table is stored and locked.  I'm off!