Ok, so I’m just saying, I have this job and I can’t take the guilt anymore.Â I AM NOW EMPLOYED AND NO MATTER HOW MUCH I WISH I COULD SIT AT HOME AND BLOG ALL DAY, INTERNET, YOU MADE THIS CHOICE WHEN YOU DIDN’T CLICK ENOUGH ADS. Also, I was bored. Staying at home is really sweet for a while, but then you get kinda bored.Â I mean, it happens.Â Plus my lazy bum of a The Boyfriend is unemployed now. GEEZ.
Anyway, so I’m still working doing that baking.Â I’ve now produced a batch of subpar whoopie pies, double chocolate chocolate chip cookies, and a batch of caramel buttercream filled chocolate cupcakes that the pretty piped frosting I did on top melted all over everywhere because it’s too hot here.Â Also, The Boyfriend is on this “I’M GOING TO BE REALLY GREEN” kick and keeps turning our AC practically off. HE DOESN’T CARE HOW MUCH I SWEAT.Â (He does care guys, he just doesn’t understand.)Â Today might be the day though, ya’ll.Â I mustered up all my energy and sliced up all the peaches from The Orchard Family’s Orchard yesterday and whipped up a peach cobbler.Â We’ll see how it turns out.Â It’s just, here’s the problem, these kids, THESE DARN KIDS! They’re always talking about pizza and pies and peach cobbler.Â And did you realize I have an assistant in my room that TELLS THEM TO SAY THESE THINGS?! Oh man. You know, it could have something to do with our letter study on the letter P, but whatever, now I’m forced to make things like peach cobbler to keep from having to cut my legs off.
It smells like cloves in my house, okay? CLOVES. I’m pretty excited about this cobbler.
So anyway, I guess I’ve mostly just complained about how much I hate The Midwest and how it’s hot and how the people here seem to think they need to drive their tractors through town and come to a complete stop every time they turn, I don’t really understand.Â But what I have neglected to do is complain about my coworkers. BECAUSE OH BOY ARE THEY A HANDFUL.Â No, really, they’re alright, I mean, let’s look at it this way.Â Back when I worked at that horrible Trike Wreck place everyone was awful (ONCE I LEFT THE INFANTS THAT IS. I LOVE YOU C.VENEMA AND THE MORMON.)Â Seriously, I wanted to die just walking into the place and then people would talk to me and I really wanted them to leave me alone because 1. most of them were boring and lame and 2. BORING AND LAME. Also, rude. Also, working on families of 13 before age 20.Â WTF.Â WE WERE NOT LIVING IN ARKANSAS. (Sorry, SMILLHOUSE. I have nothing against your living situation in AR.) Also, I’m in a first initial last name mood today.
I forgot where this was really going. I don’t hate my coworkers, I’m pretty fond of them, they all think I’m insane, and that’s alright.
Oh plus, when I worked at the Trike Wreck they told me I’d never get a teaching job. LOOK WHO’S GOT A TEACHING JOB. Also, it’s awesome. I love my job. I love all of it. Every bit of it. EVEN THE PARTS WHERE I HAVE TO TELL KIDS NOT TO PICK THEIR NOSES. EVEN THAT PART.
And now that The Boyfriend has taken to being as grouchy as I am with landlords and people in general (I think it must be a stay at home trait) we’ve started to make our new place less disgusting.Â New Landlord’s Son (who will from here on out be referred to as JR, you can choose to call him Junior, or J.R. a la Dallas) who has been “taking care of things” since New Landlord has been gone has been…not awesome.Â Well, partially.Â I mean, he did come over like every day for 2 weeks to paint for 5 minutes, but all the rooms had like 3 different colors, they were all painted flat beige, and he didn’t paint all the way to the ceiling so there was an inch of unpainted wall at the top of every room.Â It was all very odd.Â So we painted. OH HOW WE PAINTED.
This sister won’t outwardly admit it, but she hates my green wall.Â I love my green wall. I love it more than anything. I loved it in WA and I love it here too.Â Plus I love that cow creamer.Â You know who else I love?
This guy.Â This guy that we bought at Ikea for like…a dollar.Â This guy that we felt so bad for that he was missing an arm that we adopted him and gave him a hook.Â The Republi-Dad promises to make him a real life hook hand sometime.Â I can’t wait.
I am just certain people drive by our house at night when the shades are open and they’re all “WHAT THE WHAT?! WHY’D SOME CRAZY YOUNG KIDS PAINT THAT HOUSE GREEN INSIDE. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM?!”Â LOOK HERE, MIDWEST, SUCK IT UP.
Bright colors are good for you.Â Plus! PLUS! I painted my bedroom this color:
AND I PAINTED MY BATHROOM GREY. Which you won’t be seeing because there is horrible lighting that made everything look yellow. DOWN WITH YELLOW.
Things are coming around okay. We’ll see what happens. I still miss my beloved PNW, but I’m surviving and reminding myself over and over I have a whole summer in which I can hide out in B.Massie’s condo and buy every new item H&M has and make my weekly trips to Ikea again.Â SOMEDAY.