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My name is DJ, and I’m a procrastinator.

Now, I’m not picky about what I will put off until the last possible second.  It could be making dinner, or getting my taxes done, or cleaning my house prior to company coming over, but whatever it is, you can be sure that I will wait until there is absolutely no time left before I actually do something about it, whatever “it” happens to be at the moment. 

To illustrate, I will tell you about my latest endeavor….yard work.  Now, I was going to have a party, and the people who were invited had never seen my house before.  I decided, in the five days prior to the party, that suddenly, I was a yard work person.  Don’t get me wrong, I have always been the one to mow, edge, and weed eat the yard.  My husband works really long hours, out in the heat, and I never thought it was right to ask him to work in the yard when he got home, so I have always done it.  I try to lighten his load as much as possible.  (not trying to get any “good wife” props there, just trying to explain, because I always have to, how I ended up getting stuck with the yard duties….yes, Kasey, I said “doodies”). 

No, we are not talking your run-of-the-mill yard work here.  I decided I need flowers, and lots of them.  I am not a flower person.  I mean, I love the look of them, I love how they can make a yard look that much better, but I am not knowledgeable about them.  There are so many decisions that are involved…when to plant, where to plant so they get the correct amount of sun, what to plant together, to get the best look, how deep to plant, how far apart to plant, etc.  So I looked around.  I plotted, planned, purchased, and planted….if only it were actually that simple, my story would be done here.  However, I actually spent hours at the Home Depot Garden Center, left in disgust several times because I couldn’t make a decision to save my life and I had run out of time.  Once I finally decided, I was pretty pleased with what I purchased.  Except….I hadn’t purchased nearly enough.  For the amount of money I spent, I was shocked….but I went back to the Home Depot Garden Center and bought more….and yet, still not enough.  So the next day, you can probably guess where I was….yup….the Home Depot Garden Center.  I must mention at some point that during my little planting obsession, we got hit with some big storms.  I mean, BIG storms.  I don’t like storms.  They scare me.  I am always afraid of them turning into a tornado, and I am REALLY scared of tornadoes.  Anyway, during the storm, which knocked out our power, causing me to miss the results show of American Idol, AND a good episode of LOST, do you know what my main concern was?  Yeah, I was worried about my stupid flowers, and how they were weathering the storm.  Anyway….once all the rain was finished, I completed planting, and found that, for once, I had over-purchased, and now had all these flowers with no place to go….which of course meant another trip to Home Depot, to buy big pots to plant them in, just to find out that I didn’t have any soil left and…you guessed it…had to go BACK.

I wish it all ended there, but alas….there’s more.  Once I finally got the flowers in the ground – while it was sprinkling on me – I decided that it was time to do something about all of the shrubbery around my house that was getting out of control.  I fired up the electric hedge trimmer (not a WORD, Kasey!), and went to work.  I did okay, for a first timer (I’m serious, Kase), even though I gouged them in a few places.  The best part was when part of a leaf lodged itself in my eye…and I tried to get it out, forgetting that I had just been digging in SOIL, and had yet to wash my hands.  Good times.  So, by about 2:00 that afternoon, I was finally finished.  I had a yard worthy of winning “yard of the month”, even though our neighborhood does not do that…I was still one day away from having company see the hard work I had put into it.  I felt a sense of accomplishment.  And a sense of “I am NEVER going to wait until the last minute to start a big project again”

And now, I must go work on a cross-stitch birth announcement for my sister.  Yeah, she’s due at the end of this month.  Sigh….

I did it….I admit it…I had poor little George neutered.  Yes, they have taken away his “manhood” (but I don’t think a 4.5 lb dog really has that much “manhood” to begin with, does he?).  I hated to do it, but he left me no choice.  I mean, I put up with the constant stopping and “marking his territory” every five seconds when we were on a walk.  I shoved him away from me anytime he got that glint in his eye and tried to “hug” my leg.  I turned a blind eye when he would get frisky with whatever slipper was left in the kitchen (and yes, I have thrown away a few slippers).  I could not, however, continue on that way after he tried to get romantic with my mother’s ARM.  MY MOTHER!!!  That was the final straw, and I called and set up the appointment.  I take him to the vet in PetSmart, because I have him set up on the wellness plan, which is a pretty good plan, especially for puppies/kittens, who get several vaccines, and then of course the spaying/neutering.  However, after our last experience, I think I may have to look elsewhere for my animal care.  Allow me to illustrate:

I kept him away from food, starting at 9:00 on Thursday night.  This was difficult, as he gets let out to do his “business” at about 9:30 in the evening, and first thing in the morning, and expects a treat everytime he goes.  His poor little befuddled face, looking at me, thinking “I did my job….why aren’t you giving me a treat?  Don’t you love me anymore?” was heartbreaking.  (okay, it wasn’t THAT bad, but it makes for a better story, don’t ya think?)  I juggled my school drop-off schedule, so that my daughter could come with me to take George to the vet.  I got to the vet at about 7:40…since they told me to have him there between 7:00-8:00 AM.  As I walked in, I noticed a woman with a rather large bulldog-type dog (Sophie, as I would later learn), sitting on a bench, looking rather irritated, and I quickly learned why.  It seems that she was told to have Sophie in at 7:00…she arrived at 6:50….and there was NO ONE working yet!  We waited, and waited, and waited, with my daughter pulling out every. single. greeting card in the rack (who knew that greeting cards would be a hot item at PetSmart?  Do they REALLY make a killing in greeting card sales?  Who thought that would be a good idea?), and making me look at each and every one of them…and with me counting the minutes, trying to make sure that I did not cause her to be tardy while waiting for a vet tech to show up.  Finally, someone came to work at 7:55 (apparently she was supposed to be the second one in that day, but the first one just never showed up…except at this point, I don’t care, just take my dog and let me get out of here).  Well, Sophie got all checked in, weighed, and taken back to the back room, and it was time to check in George.  Filled out paperwork, got his weight, yada, yada, yada, “we’ll call you when he is out of surgery and let you know how he does”, and off I go.

So, at about 11:30, while I am out “running errands” (a.k.a – SHOPPING), I get a phone call from the vet.  Apparently George has impacted baby teeth that need to be pulled.  O---kay….what are you telling me here?  Is that covered by his insurance?  No?  How much?  Really, that much?  Okay, well, since he’s already under, you might as well take those too.  “okay, I’ll tell the doctor, thank you.  We will call you when he is out of surgery and let you know how he did.  You can plan on picking him up at 5:30”.  Okay, yeah, thanks, great, bye.

The day goes by.  No phone call from the vet.  I pick up my son from school.  No phone call from the vet.  I pick up my daughter from school.  No phone call from the vet.  It’s almost 5:00, so I call the vet.  After talking to what could possibly be the DINGIEST receptionist EVER, I finally find out that yes, George is out of surgery…no, he’s not dead…and yes, he’s ready for you to come pick him up.  “The nurse wanted me to tell you that she’s sorry she didn’t call, we are just a little short handed”…again, at this point, I don’t care, just give me my dog.

So, my daughter and I go together to go pick up George.  When we get there, there is literally a LINE of people with pets, people without pets, pets without people, it was pandemonium.  I stood there and waited while two women in front of me discussed their shih-tzus, one was dropping hers off, one was picking hers up, and they were comparing notes on the two as if they were their children!  “Well, does she do this, because I find that he does that?”  “Why YES, she does do that, and you might want to be careful, and watch to make sure he’s not doing this”, meanwhile, a lady behind me was holding on to a beagle who obviously knew where she was, because she got more and more anxious by the minute, and at the same time, a couple with a boxer were coming out of a room, ready to pay and leave, and every single one of us was to be waited on by….you got it…..the moron from the phone.  Yep, old Einstein herself was solely in charge of getting every single one of us taken care of.  When I finally got up to the counter, I told her who I was there to pick up.  She told me what my charges were, and it was only the total for the teeth extraction.  I tried to verify with her, because I was told previously that there would be an extra charge for his neutering, since he was over 5 months old.  Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m anxious to pay more money than I have to, however, I was down to my last check, and did not want to ruin it if lamebrain was giving me incorrect information.  When I asked her about this extra charge…she says to me……wait for it, it’s good……  “yes, that is correct, when you bring him in to get neutered, you will have to pay a $40 upcharge for his age”  WHAT?  You…DIDN’T neuter my dog?  “oh, oh, I mean, yes, he was neutered, but they didn’t charge you the $40”.  Whatever, just give me my dog.

I ended up bringing him back the next day, because his bruising and swelling was out of control…and spent another hour or so trying to get an answer.  Turns out the swelling IS a bit extreme (really?  REALLY??), and he needs anti-inflammatory medication, which of course, I have to pay for, and they recommend that I ICE DOWN the affected area.  Um…no thanks.  I’m not holding an ice pack to my dog’s privates.  It’s not gonna happen.  (luckily, this has not been necessary, the medication is working just fine on its own)

I’m thinking….the next time some animal of mine tries to get frisky with my mom, she’s on her own….  :)

I had this dream...in it, I was a stay-at-home mom, with all the time in the world to take care of every little thing that, as a working mom, I didn't seem to get to.  My house stayed clean, constantly.  My kids never had to ask, "mom, will you wash the darks tonight?".  There was always a home cooked dinner on the table, I was happy and rested, well-read, toned, taught, and tanned.  In this dream, my house was surrounded by flowers and freshly mowed grass, my dog was house-broken, and my teeth were sparkling white.  Isn't that a spectacular dream?  Well, wake up.  I'm sitting here, in front of the computer, ignoring the fact that in my quest for a gleaming, clean, fresh-smelling house, I have only gotten as far as partially cleaning ONE bathroom.  I'm ignoring the fact that everything that I cleaned out of my cram-packed refrigerator is still sitting on my counter, waiting to be dumped out of my tupperware containers (AKA - butter tubs) and disposed of.  I'm ignoring the fact that the one load of laundry that I managed to start today is STILL in the washing machine (because the one load I managed yesterday is in the dryer, being fluffed, for the last hour and a half).  I'm ignoring the fact that I only have an hour and a half before I have to go pick up my son from school, giving me a witness to the carnage - I mean, to the mess that is STILL my house...the mess that I left over the weekend, telling myself "oh, tomorrow I will dedicate myself to cleaning - because what else do I have to do all day?".  I'm ignoring the marathon of "The Workout" that is currently playing on my living room television, but mostly only because I've already watched it, the last time they had an all day marathon. 

Okay, head out of the sand time!!  I must go finish my bathroom!  I must put away the prior seven loads of laundry that I did manage to finish last week, but did not manage to hang/fold/put away.  I must make my bed, vacuum, dust, throw away, wash, etc., any and every little thing I get my  hands on.  I must make this dream come true!  But first....I wonder what the topic is on Dr. Phil today.....

I'm back!  Sorry it's been so long, but I have been VERY busy, here at home, with crazy important stuff, like:  cleaning out my kids' dressers and closets, cleaning out the garage, mowing the lawn (repeatedly..stupid grass that grows like crazy), laundry, and hanging out with my pal, George.  For those of you that don't know me, you must realize that George is my teacup Yorkie, and he's a cute, silly, fun, sometimes annoying little thing.  You should also know that he is currently sitting on my lap and for some reason has picked this moment to start licking my hands, which makes it very difficult to type, so I think I will put a quick stop to that.....

Okay, so, yes, I am at home now.  I am so far enjoying my time away from the corporate world, although who knew the days went so fast when you are not chained to a desk?  I have, however, begun a new venture as a stay-at-home person, I am now (big booming voice) DJ - PROFESSIONAL WASP KILLER (end big booming voice).  Yes, somehow or other, those stupid stinging things keep managing to get into my house!  To date, I have killed four of them in the past week.  To fully grasp the magnitude of this, you must understand how terrified I am of wasps.  I don't know what it is...I'm truly not afraid of pretty much any other bug, and I have been stung once in my life and lived to tell about it, but I will lose all sense of maturity, cool, decency, whatever, when there is a wasp flying around my head.  Yes, I will be the first one to run away, even if there are little kids around.  Hey, I didn't say I was proud of myself, I just said I'm terrified of wasps.

With that being said, I have now killed a total of six wasps in my life.  The first time was 8 years ago in June.  Yes, I remember it that vividly.  I was alone in the house with my 5-yr old son and my infant daughter.  I went into my daughter's room to check on her while she napped.  Imagine my surprise to see a wasp on her window!  My baby!!  I immediately roused her from her nap by grabbing her out of the bed and rushing her to the living room (hey, I know she was tired, but I was SAVING HER LIFE).  :)  I shut her bedroom door and stuffed a towel under it so the murderous bastard could not get us.  I called my husband, who was working inconveniently far away and was unable to come and help me.  My next step was to call an exterminator, who then LAUGHED at me for wanting them to come out and kill ONE wasp.  The nerve!  I then went online and looked up ways to kill wasps.  Interesting fact...if you spray a wasp with a mixture of dishwashing soap and water, it will weigh down their wings and they can't fly away.  However, if you miss, you will piss them off, not to mention make a big mess you have to clean up later.  So, after making my soapy mix, covering myself in TWO layers of long clothing (no, I'm not kidding), and pacing outside my daughter's door for close to an hour, I went in.  It probably took me another twenty minutes, in the same room with the dreaded beast, to work up the courage, but I finally did it....I emptied that ENTIRE bottle of soup and water on that thing, screaming the whole time, then to make sure I finished it off, I beat it repeatedly with a magazine until I was sure it was dead, dead, dead.

I had to do that once more a couple of weeks later, and then never had another incident in that house or even in the next house.  But now.....it's all coming back to me.  There have been four wasps in this house since we moved in.  And, if you think I'm afraid of wasps, imagine my now 8-yr old daughter, who also has the capacity of shrieking at a level that can injure human's ears and potentially cause dog's eardrums to explode...when she sees one IN HER HOUSE.  I have had to "man up" and put my own fear aside to show her that this can be done (and to put an end to the wailing).

Of course, when I'm all alone and there's a wasp in the house, I still act like a complete baby.  I still have to email my pals and tell them what's going on and ask for advice.  I get great advice, too, such as:  "spray them with insect spray or 409"; and:  "sit there and watch it until your husband gets home...if it moves, scream and wave your arms", but at the end of it all, it comes down to a battle between me and the wasp.  And I've got a new Enquirer rolled up, just itching to swat.

Today, I was getting ready for lunch, and my little pal George started yelping.  Not his usual "pay attention to me" whine, but a genuine, "oh shit, that hurt" cry.  I went to check on him in the kitchen, and what did I see?  Yep, one of those little F-ers on the window of my back door.  Now, I can't say for sure that it stung my baby, but he was hopping around, favoring one leg.  I picked up the closest rolled up thing I could find (I think it was one of those circulars that you are always finding in your mailbox that I usually just chunk in the trash before I even go inside), and beat the hell out of that thing before I could even bother to be scared of it.

Don't mess with George.

I’m leaving….yes, it’s true…after months of threatening to do it, pondering the right time, and generally just procrastinating because I hate telling people things they don’t want to hear, I have finally done it!!!  I have given my notice at work, and will be a wife-who-helps-her-husband-with-the-family-business/mom-who-can-now-attend-school-parties-and-pick-kids-up-from-school.  I am excited, and also a little nervous.  Those of you that know me, know that this was attempted once before, when I was laid off from my previous job (those BASTARDS!!!  I still miss them…tear)  As great as it sounded, and as much as I was looking forward to it at the time, I proved to be less than valuable in that position…whether it was the loneliness during the day, the general dislike of cleaning house, or the strange, at-loose-ends feeling I had due to NOT having a schedule to stick to for once in my life, I couldn’t seem to hack it and ended up coming back to work.  Well, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again, right?  So here we go again…

My experience at my current job has been good and bad, as is the case for most, if not all jobs out there.  I have compiled a list of things that I will miss from this job, and a list of things that I will definitely NOT miss:

THINGS I WILL MISS:

1. Shells and KC…you guys are great pals and have made this place fun, no matter what ridiculously mundane task I was required to perform, day in and day out…I will miss our lunches, our IM conversations, and just knowing that you were THERE, in the same building, should I need anything.  You guys are what has kept me here this long, and I will miss you terribly.
2. Daily emails with other pals.  I love the email chains that go on and on and on (and ON).  I will be giving my home email address to you all, and expect to be included in at least a few conversations…I will be checking!
3. My discount…tear…I suppose I will return to being a Kohl’s shopper now..
4. Most of my team members.  They really are some funny ladies, and I will miss the day-to-day banter. 

I’m sure there must be more than 4 things that I will miss, right?  I will probably think of them as I go along.  As for now, it’s time for

:

THINGS I WILL DEFINITELY NOT MISS:

1.                  The nose honker…seriously, there is a guy who sits several rows over from me, who blows the heck out of his nose, LOUDLY, at least six times a day.  Yes, I have counted.  Those are the types of blows that should be taken into a private room and done alone….

2.                  The mindless activities I am given:  cleaning out sample rooms, hanging clothes, bagging clothes, sorting clothes, cutting swatches of clothes, making color copies, data entry, and various other tasks that are obviously CRUCIAL “pieces of the puzzle”.  Please, if I’m not going to use my brain on a daily basis, why should I get out of bed?

3.                  The alarm going off at 5:45 every morning!!

4.                  The panic over what to wear…10 minutes before I should leave the house (which ends up being 30 minutes before I actually leave the house).  Yes, my daily uniform now will consist of a t-shirt, yoga pants, and flip flops.  Try not to hate me…

So, as you can probably tell as of now, my feelings are all over the board.  I’m nervous, because I have failed before, I’m excited, because I’m getting a second shot at it, and maybe the second time will prove to be the charm, and I’m a little overwhelmed, thinking of how much my life is going to change….Wish me luck!  I will keep you posted!!