It’s been three weeks that Fred has been unemployed and searching for a job. Trust me – if there’s a company in all of Huntsville that’s hiring in the line of work that Fred does, they’ve got his resume. Tons and tons of resumes, the man has sent out (emailed out, I should say). And he’s been slowly going mad, because the phone is NOT ringing.
(You can only say “You’ll find a job!” and “It just takes time!” so many times before he tells you you’re full of shit, it turns out.)
Yesterday, after a morning of the phone not ringing, we left the house. I made him leave his cell phone at home (you know how back in the old days when you were allowed to smoke in restaurants, the surefire way to get the waitress to show up with your food or bill was to light up a cigarette? I figured the way to get a call to come in was to not be home to answer it. Didn’t work, but it was worth a try.), and we headed to Point Mallard to go for a meander along the walking path.
Of COURSE I took the camera.
It was nice to get out of the house for a few hours, even if there were no missed calls when we got home.
By the way, there’s a special place in hell for headhunters who email first thing Monday morning, ask for an updated resume and a call ASAP, don’t answer the phone for two days, and then tell you (when you actually reach them) that they don’t actually have a position in your area.
I recently read somewhere that people who have cats are 30% less likely to have heart attacks.
What they didn’t address in that article is whether people who have cats are 30% MORE likely to have a stroke after they step in a cold pile of cat vomit in the middle of the night. I’m going to guess the answer to that is YES.
There’s this commercial that plays on a local radio station that goes “Christian school care! School care…. instead of play care!”
And every single time they play it, I fully expect it to go “Christian school care! School care for Christians!”
Every time.
I went to replace my estrogen patch this morning after I got out of the shower, and found that the one I’d put on on Monday? Gone.
Who the hell knows when it came off, or where it is?
When I told Fred, he said “Maybe that’s why you’ve been especially Satanic lately.”
“HOW have I been Satanic?” I asked, sure he wasn’t going to be able to come up with an example. Because when put on the spot, he’s never able to back up these assertions and usually resorts to saying something lame like “You just are.”
“You were in the kitten room giving them their morning snack today,” he said. “And you were all “Ooh boo boo boo boo” with your sweet kitten-talking voice, and then all of a sudden you’re bellowing “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST GODDAMN IT!” and then the next second you were all “Oooh boo boo boo boo” in your kitten voice again.”
I sighed. “I sure am sick of dropping the cat food-covered spoon on the floor.”
He gave me the hairy eyeball.
“I see your point,” I admitted. Then I showed him the patch I’d just put on. “But I should be okay now!”
Yeah, we’ll see about THAT.
I went upstairs yesterday morning to put the barrier up across the hallway and let Maura out of her room. As I went up the stairs, all four Bookworms and Jake followed me. I tried to keep them on the other side of the barrier, but it was like holding back a tide of cute, and finally I threw up my hands and declared that I guessed it was time for Maura to have the run of the house.
It went pretty well. She had little patience for the other cats getting up in her face, but no one got pushy with her, and she spent most of her time walking around the house exploring.
Maura in the Maura Cave, in the corner of the kitchen.
Poor Stinkerbelle – at one point Maura was sitting in the front room, and Stinkerbelle caught sight of her and I don’t know if she just loves all black cats, or she thought Maura was Tommy, but she tried to go over to Maura. Maura growled at her. You could see the confusion on Stinkerbelle’s face when Maura growled at her, because Stinkerbelle’s usually the one growling at other cats. She kept trying to get close to Maura, and Maura kept growling, so eventually Stinkerbelle gave up and climbed up to the top of her bookcase and pondered this strange turn of events.
Reacher is obsessed – OBSESSED! – with the trash can.
He likes to hang out in the trash can, sniff around at the pieces of crumpled paper towel, and then climb out with one of them in his mouth. Then he bats it across the room, uncrumples it, and leaves it there.
Reacher, hiding beside the refrigerator. A stampede of big cats went through the kitchen, which scared him, and he went to his safe place.
All four of the Bookworms were sleeping in one bed. Jake got up on my desk, surveyed the situation… and then climbed into the cat bed and laid down on top of them. Three of them scattered, but Bolitar just stayed where he was.
The Bookworms are all obsessed with my recycling container. They love to climb in there, sleep, look around, bat at magazine covers, and then climb back out. I don’t get the obsession, but they aren’t the first kittens to do that. I’m sure they won’t be the last, either!
Newt, coming to see if perhaps it’s snack time.
Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: What the fucking fuck was going on, apparently, is that my motherboard was fried.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: Annoying.
2003: Holy FUCK, look what JUST wandered across my front yard!
2002: The big flies make a very satisfying THWOOMP! sound as they fly down the attachment tube.
2001: No entry.
2000: Aren’t they, um, AMERICANS?
Good luck finding a job, my husband was out for 8 months. Ah wait for the depression, that is a REAL joy.
There is just something about that Maura that speaks to me. If she’s still available when I get back from New York in June, I see a roadtrip to Huntsville in my future.
Re: stepping in cat vomit – that is exactly how I picture myself dieing. That, or slipping and sliding across the hardwood floors into a wall after stepping on a pile. Which I’ve done, but only managed to knock myself silly rather than killing myself.
Those Bookworms are just KILLING me with the cuteness. I guess your trash is Reacher’s treasure 😉
You gave yourself the hairy eyeball?!? I is confuzed! 🙂
UGH. Goddamn typos! 🙂
Oh and those are great pictures Robyn! I need to get out and learn to use my camera.
Lori – listen to your heart and go get her!!! And I agree when I exit the planet, a cat will be involved: slipping on barf, tripping me on the stairs, choking to death on a hairball, or an evil plot lol 😉
what a gorgeous place to meander! Those kitties are killing me with the cute. And I can’t believe I actually feel sorry for that little turd stinkerbelle! ha.
I love the last pic of Newt…he definitely looks like a man on a mission.
Those are great pictures of the turtles!
Love the first pic of the chipmunk, the lighting is gorgeous. The turt is cracking me up. All I could think of is ‘put your right foot in…’ Awesomely delicious.
Wow! Talk about giving me a little bit of global perspective with my coffee this morning. I’m a SKIMMER! (donald sutherland points at meeee!!) today b/c I’m all sorts of groggy as Jonas was awake all night long, but wow! Going out for a walk and seeing TURTLES. omg TURTLES! that is just awesome to me. The squirrel, now those I can see up here in the arctic, but THE TURTLES!!! just. so. cool. =)
It was very neat, seeing all those turtles. And we actually saw a TON of them, but they’d hear us coming and slide off (or jump off) into the water. 🙂
Wonderful pictures, Robyn you are a woman of many talents. Beautiful park and I love the turtle photos too. Maura is so cute in her cave. I would so love it if Lori or someone who frequents this blog would adopt her because then we could hope for “progress notes” and pictures too!
Sorry about Fred’s lack of progress in the job hunting it is frustrating. Screw that headhunter ahole for wasting his time. Sales people piss me off for that stuff too. The first time my husband met a new neighbor/relator she asked him to PROMISE to give him the contract if we ever sold our house. I had a retail co-worker I barely knew ask the same. Hello I’ll look for the deal that most beenfits me thank you very much.
Love the pictures!
Headhunters can be scum.
I didn’t know they made progesterone patches. I found that with my Vivelle Dot estrogen patch, it adheres much better in back then in front–have never had one come off. Novartis markets the Vivelle Dot as Estradot in Canada, and they recommend using it on the…can’t sat the b*ks word, sounds too horsey–will just say a*s. (No, I’m not Canadian, I just wear my patch like a Canadian!)
here’s the stupid-long link–last pages show all the recommended spots.
http://ask.novartispharma.ca/download.htm?res=estradot_patient_e.pdf&resTitleId=116
(This is, quite literally, assvice.)
I am SO scattered these days – I actually meant my estrogen patch, not my progesterone patch (I use a progesterone cream; I actually don’t know whether they make progesterone patches!) I’m going to go check out that page now, thanks for the link! 🙂
There’s a combo patch (estrogen & progesterone) it’s called ClimaraPro. I love mine. Sorry Robyn but that cream sounds like a HUGE pain in the ass. I slap on my patch on Thurs. and forget about it until the next Thurs. Very rarely to I have a problem w/it coming off early. I usually wear it somewhere on my lower abdomen. Just make sure you don’t wear it by your boobs. The Cancer, ya know.
I knew about those, but I don’t think there’s any standalone, natural progesterone patch–“they” say the patches would be too large. The progesterone in ClimaraPro is levonorgestrel, a synthetic progestogen also used in birth control pills. The progesterone in the creams and in Prometrium is bioidentical micronized estrogen, which may be safer. You can also use the Prometrium gel-caps vaginally, avoiding the first-pass through the livah effects of using them orally. OTOH, it’s hard to get the control you get w/the cream, since the lowest dose Prometrium comes in is 100 mg. (I poke a needle through the cap & get rid rid of more than half. Which is pretty wasteful, but works.)
sorry–don’t mean to turn this into an HRT discussion! I much prefer tiny baby kittehs.
I actually found this pretty informative, Kathy (and Mia!). Now I don’t have to do the research on my own. Thanks! 🙂
Is it at all possible that Fred is not a “fighter?” You can’t just look for a job, you know, you have to kick unemployment’s ass.
You take that back! Fred will KICK unemployment’s ASS! FUCK UNEMPLOYMENT!
So sorry you and Fred are going through this job loss. It’s never easy, but even tougher in this economy. I’m sending good “job finding” vibes your way..
My husband’s theory: some headhunters are resume collectors. They may trade or sell “contacts” to other flesh-peddlers.
In current economy/environment, follow up phone calls are infrequent. My better half has been seeking new employment since end of February. Tomorrow (4/23) is DH’s last work day. Layoffs blow!
Hope Fred (and my ball & chain) quickly land new positions.
I don’t think three weeks is a long time, but then Fred is not under my feet all day. Keeping him in my thoughts…
CHIPMUNKS!!
How funny are those turtles! Doing the Conga there.
Ok, Simon is ANNOYED that I am not paying attention to him and he is systematically tap tap tapping everything off my side table onto the floor. Miserable shit. Gottagobye.
As one dealing with menopause and in the middle of all it’s glory I laughed loudly at Fred’s account of your “satanic” behavior. If you haven’t felt it you would never believe it. I am SO the devil sometimes. I do love my Vivelle patches and do believe they help greatly. I was showering one day and realized that my patch had vanished. I looked in the tub and all around and wondered how it could have come off and I had not realized it. That night when I went to put on my gown there it was stuck inside. It had been through the wash and was still there! I found that amusing. Since then I check daily to be sure it is intact.
The walk was like a nature trail…enjoyed the pics.
Best wishes to Fred.
Worse than stepping in a cold pile of cat vomit? Stepping in a WARM pile of cat vomit – and getting it between your bare toes. Ugh.
Speaking as someone who’s been out of work since Christmas, I say to Fred: Talk to me about slowly going mad in about 3-4 months, m’kay?
*covering my eyes and ears to hide from all the scary unemployment talk*
How fucked up is it that reading the unemployment comments here terrifies me more than reading the breast/cancer comments at Jane’s site? Pretty damn fucked up.
Still.
Oh, and Robyn, the child asked the father and came up empty, but the father said he’d keep an eye/ear out. If only he knew who was REALLY doing the asking, LMAO!
What great photos!