4.18.2011

Just a little sad...

As I've mentioned (or perhaps just eluded to) in previous posts, I've made some less than stellar financial decisions in my life and now they've all come to a head. In a couple of weeks, I'll be moving out of my nice 3-bedroom, 2-car garage, 2-bathroom house into a room. Yes, one room. No more garage. No more sole access to two bathrooms. No, I'm not going to jail - I'm getting rid of (pretty much) all of my earthly possessions and renting a room from a friend.

On one hand, I'm extremely grateful to have a friend that is willing to let me rent a room for a very reasonable price.

On the other hand, I'm extremely sad about the concessions I'm having to make in order to get my s**t together.

I hope the grateful / happy part starts taking a larger piece of the pie soon, because this really is a good thing. I get to save a good amount of money and (hopefully) I will get to pay some stuff off quickly. This will also give me a chance to maybe get a second job and/or start working out (at a gym) to lose some of this extra weight.

Roscoe
Right now though, I'm in the throws of sadness - chiefly because one MAJOR concession of this move is that my (dog) Roscoe can't come along with me. He left yesterday to go live with my parents for a (little?) while. My parents are unable to take me in so they're doing the next best thing and taking care of Roscoe. Unfortunately, they live several hours away so I don't get to see them (or Roscoe) again until Memorial Day. I've had this dog for 8+ years and with the exception of a few nights here and there - he's been at my side his whole life. I know he's happy though because he adores my Dad and my nephew - my Mom tells me that Roscoe rode in my nephew's lap the whole way from his Dad's house back home (about an hour). I know Roscoe was happy (at least yesterday). I just don't want him to think I'm never coming back for him...

So the morals of this story are:
1. Pay your bills! They will linger and haunt you!
2. Don't take your day-to-day life for granted - you never know when it will change.
3. Having only bad options to choose from sucks! You won't be happy with what you decide, but when you make your bed - you have to lay in it.
4, Bitching about it doesn't do anyone any good! Oh & it doesn't help!
5. Always have someone that knows how to tie stuff down help you move (but that's a story for another day)...

4.14.2011

When Goose ≠ Vodka

Yesterday, I arrive at work (late, as per usual) pull in to a parking space and start to gather my stuff to get out of the car. I open my car door and this huge ass  Psycho-Goose (PG) starts coming towards me (and no - "goose" isn't a euphemism or metaphor)! I slam my door really fast and all the sudden the goose starts charging my car door. I couldn't believe it!
Goose Captor

While PG charged my door with rage in his eyes, I frantically call people inside the building for help and then as if the PG knew I was calling in reinforcements  he started biting the car door handle!! I get a hold of a co-worker and in between laughs she says she'll send the security guard out to help. In a moment of pseudo-brilliance I open my car door to see if he'll back up - he does but then he charges me again seemingly trying to climb in before I can get the door closed again. After an eternity 3 minutes or so - PG lost interest and went away. I quickly pulled out of that parking space and found a new one, only to be finally greeted by the security guard coming to my rescue

I get to my office (with mirrored windows) and it being an especially beautiful spring day a suicidal male cardinal decides his reflection the competition must die so he dive bombs my window for the next several hours until he meets his untimely fate. By lunch, I realize I've somehow pissed off the avian community and they were going to have their unholy revenge through any physical or mental means of torture available.

Today as I head to work I've decided to pack a shoe box and stale bread to get me through the day - (shoe box for the sad dead cardinal burial & bread to distract the goose). If that doesn't work, tomorrow I'm bringing a BB gun and big pot & we're gonna eat goose for Sunday dinner!

For future reference, Universe, the only kind of "goose" I like is Grey Goose!