Sunday, October 9, 2016

This is not a drill

I have been thinking a great deal about posting again but I was overthinking it. I quit that shit.
So here goes nothing.

I got a job about 3 months ago and started getting dressed in the morning and putting some makeup on ... like a grownup.
It made me feel better, and for a couple of weeks I was going to bed at 9pm. I was overwhelmed with all the new stuff that was coming at me from all sides. Learning a new schedule and new crap everyday wore my ass out.
After 2 1/2 months I had a rhythm, and I realized that I didn't like my job. So, I started to look for a new one with different hours, a new job that lets me pick up my kid from school and actually be there for her.  As I stated before it is way easier to find a job when you already have a job.

The oldest child turned 18 — here in Germany that is the equivalent  of turning 21 in the states. You can drink alcohol and act a fool and you will get in trouble yourself.
I am not going to lie: It hasn't been easy letting go because, on top of being a total control freak, I am also a total control freak ... wait I said that already. Never mind ... I suck at letting go.


I like having money from a job; sometimes it makes me do weird stuff that makes my husband question my sanity but that's okay. And, no Christopher, I will not send back the rowing machine. When I save us from the zombies by crossing the Rhein in a paddle boat going 90 miles an hour, you will be grateful.

Is it just me or does fall weather make you want to bake? I want to bake cookies, cupcakes and pies and then eat them because now I have a rowing machine.
It is still in the box but as soon as I get it up the stairs, put it together and buy myself a cute rowing outfit, I will rock that medieval torture device.

Last night I went to a wedding, and I wore a pretty dress, and I looked nice....for about 2 hours and then it went to hell.

I got a fat stomach from eating pasta, which in turn made my pantyhose roll down under my stomach; that, of course, accentuated that wonderful feature. When I tried adjusting my pantyhose, I dislodged the blister bandaid I had taped to my food, that then proceeded to travel up my leg inside my pantyhose ... that at that point were trying to strangle my body.
I could never be a celebrity; they have to look immaculate all the time, I couldn't even handle pantyhose.

That's all I got. 
I will talk to you later,

Julia

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