Pacing Myself

Just completed day thirty four of my work week. I woke up before seven this morning, by now force of habit but stayed in bed until noon alternating between the news and burrowing under the pillows.

It's near the end of the month so I got up, put on my "Yard Attire" and putted up to the front of the subdivision to cut the grass in order to get that sixty dollar check on the last day of the month.

The above picture was when cutting at the cemetery where my folks are buried but my outfit's always the same...shorts, flip flops and a tank top with a bathing suit top on underneath. The tank top comes off and serves as a towel to wipe sweat and grime off my face.

I finished in record time, two hours. The decking on my Johnny Dear broke just as I got through cutting and had to put it back on with only one of the two bolts remaining to park it by the curb. Got out my trusty friend, Mr. Weed Eater and cut both culverts on either side of the road. The line ran out with about two feet of tall grass left to go so just pulled the rest by hand.

Putted back to the house with the decking scraping and parked my Dear Johnny back in the garage. Ate some left overs from last night's dinner, drank a cold Co-Cola for some "Pep in my step" and headed for the shower, covered from head to toe with dirt and grass clippings.

Ironed a work shirt, pulled on my skirt and put on some make up in under ten minutes. Left the house at four twenty and clocked in at four thirty.

Walked out the door at eleven and Zach picked me up by the curb out back of the restaurant. While waiting I checked my phone for messages. The airport job had sent a text wanting to know if I could work a double shift on Saturday instead of just my scheduled day shift?

For Pete's sake!!

Then I thought about how I was only three hundred dollars short on our mortgage payment due on Monday. I sent them back a text:

"Still at Mama Lucias's now but would love nothing more than to work a double tomorrow."

I had to MAKE myself hit "Send".

It will mean almost five hundred dollars or maybe even more and simply couldn't turn it down.

My back and "Weed Eating" arm are killing me but my airport uniform is ready to go and all I have to do is swap out my Mama's  duffel bag stuff into my clear plastic airport bag and will be good to go come seven o'clock Saturday morning.

How much longer I can work like this is a mystery to even me but know I can and WILL do it. I've never made the kind of money I've been making these past two weeks and the thrill of finally getting to the point of almost being sort of caught up and able to see can soon even be getting ahead makes my mind race and me feel dizzy. Well maybe the dizzy part is sheer exhaustion but in a good way.

I'm almost through with The Alchemist, and came across this passage recently.

"This is what we call love, the boy said, seeing that the wind was close to granting what he requested. When you are loved, you can do anything in creation. When you are loved, there's no need at all to understand what's happening, because everything happens within you, and even men can turn themselves into the wind. As long as the wind helps, of course."

I am so loved and blessed by God, family, friends, employers and even strangers. They are my wind and all conspire in helping me.

So I'll tumble into bed, wake up and work a double shift. Then when I finally drag myself back to that MARTA train late Saturday night will have covered a mortgage payment.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, so just call me "The Bionic Woman".

I GOT THIS!!!

Til next time, a truly blessed COTTON

Dang My House Smells Great!

It's no mansion but it's ours and will be paid off in a little over three short years.

I used to keep  the yards immaculate but working so much lately, have let them slip a bit. I still mowed  the yards and trimmed them with the weed eater but the days of pulling weeds for hours on end fell to the wayside. I've always worried more about the outside of my house, mainly because neighbors driving by can't see the inside, and when it looks real bad inside,  won't answer  the door unless you have a no knock search warrant.

Lately it's been looking REAL bad. My hundred day work week pretty much demanded house work be put on the back burner and just focused on making it into work every day.  It helped  that Massey left for college in August and it was just me, Tim, Zach and the three pups here. Most males could care less what a house looks like on the inside as long the TV, refrigerator and microwave work...lucky for me, mine did.

The laundry got done but rarely folded and mostly sat piled in baskets.  The only clothes I needed for a hundred days were my work uniforms, underwear and a towel.

Around thirty days in, I learned quite a few tricks for a working mom. NEVER turn on an overhead light, especially if it is florescent. Always have tea light candles to burn tarts from Yankee Candle and buy store brand Febreeze in bulk.

 Sometimes Zach  would get a wild hair (or maybe a dog hair in his mouth) and do some vacuuming.

The dishes got done, but only when the boys ran out of cereal bowls. It seems to never occur  to men to clean sink traps, I thought maybe they were saving up enough food for a meal and let it go.

The bathrooms were the worst.

Number one, Zach and Tim have had penises their entire lives but obviously never mastered the craft of a direct aim. Number two,(no pun intended) I've never had a penis but pretty sure if I did,  I could hit a bowl over a foot in diameter less than two feet away. I just started peeing in the dark so as not to notice  their poor shooting skills.

The showers were even less of a problem. Zach had his own bathroom and if he didn't mind showering in a cesspool, who was I to stop him? I did keep my garden  tub pretty semi / clean since I am the only one who uses it but Tim's shower stall turned into a horror house. If I had to use it when I was running late for work (more often  than not) I felt like wearing  flip flops and would have, if Ziggy hadn't chewed up every pair I owned.

So this past week, after working every single day since mid August I had three glorious days off...in a row!

Number one (again) I slept twelve hours straight. Number two (again) I bought a really big bottle of cheap Pinot Noir, and got my scrubbing groove on. I had plenty of cleaning products since I hadn't cleaned the  house in a hundred days.

It was a daunting task but have never been one to shy away from a challenge. I started with  the thing I hate most...laundry. What's the deal with socks and how do they always get lost? I folded all  the laundry in baskets, folded all the laundry piled on the dressers and put all of it away.

Now we're getting somewhere!

Got all crazy and pulled sheets and comforters. Even washed the pillows. (although when I was little momma always said to lay them in the grass outside overnight) I'll have to Google that wives tale.

Number three: Mr. Clean Magic Erasers are the bomb dot com. I cleaned walls and I cleaned baseboards. I didn't actually move any furniture  but the spots you  can see look great. I cleaned doors and I cleaned window sills. I used four the first day.

Cold weather is rearing its ugly head here in the deep south so it's time to switch  the ceiling fans from  blowing down to up. Lesson  learned, never do  it until you clean the blades.

I cleaned my vacuum cleaner after every  room I vacuumed. I sprinkled Arm & Hammer Pet Odor over all the carpets  and the results were astounding. (and embarrassing)

The more I cleaned the more I saw that needed to be cleaned. Let's clean this window, let's clean this door, let's clean this  intake vent and let's clean this furniture.

I was in the mode and the mode felt great. After five hours I  quit smelling dogs and  that was another inspiration.

So I'm a hard working woman, I'll accept that label but  I've been a terrible wife and mother. My momma would have fainted if she had witnessed  the despair I had left the inside of my house in.

Lucky for me I only live with men now and are all straight. A gay man would have fired me on the spot.

It took me over three days to get my house over/semi clean but looks and smells wonderful.

Even my three dogs look happier.

Here's the big thing. When my kids were younger I would give them chores. They always did a half a** job but at least  MY job was half done after they attempted theirs.

I came home from work today and felt wonderful to walk into a house that didn't stink.

So I was a crappy house keeper for three months, but the house is still here and on top of it all I cooked a fabulous meal. Tim put the roast in the crock pot when I left for work this morning and I came in (home) as the pinch hitter and made gravy, rice and corn muffins and even threw together a green bean casserole.

All's good here at  the Cotton Compound. The house is looking and smelling clean, I've drafted yet another letter to UGA about Ham and his eye surgery and waiting for a reply.

It's nice to not gag when you walk in the door...just saying.

Til next  time...COTTON