I was going to do more on my “Logic Gun” cartoon, (I shoot you with my logic gun! Bang bang!) but then, you know, I got busy. As you do.
We just had these awful months of December and January, and it left me kind of traumatized. Really, I hate winter. Especially flu season. Especially especially flu season when the flu is some sort of vaccine-resistant super bug which everyone seems to get. And it isn’t over yet, so it’s not like my anxiety abates. I spend all day at work anxious, afraid to leave my desk lest the school or daycare call to tell me that one or both of my kids is terribly sick. I can’t wear clothes without pockets because there is no room for my phone, and what if someone is trying to reach me?
But this is irrational. Kids get sick. Mine spent two months sick with cold after cold after cold, and you’d think having gone through that, I’d be philosophical and say, “Well we got through it last time,” instead of being insane and saying, “If I have to go through that again, I will just DIE.” And of course, I won’t just die, that’s the point, right? My therapist says it’s all about reframing. It’s not that the kids will get sick again and I will just DIE, it’s that I will get through it just fine and then I’ll say, “Whew, I’m glad that’s over!”
Only I think that I won’t say that, because to me, it’s NEVER over.
I do hate winter. Also I hate summer. I actually hate summer MORE, because there is this expectation that you should be outside enjoying the warm weather. I do not enjoy. I am allergic to the sun, and my greatest joy in the summer is being indoors with the air conditioning blasting. Ahhhh.
Basically, I’ve decided that there are two months of the year I like, weather wise. I like April and I like October.
Although last year Hurricane Sandy was in October and that was not OK. So maybe I only like April.
And April is when you have to start mowing the lawn all the time or the landlord calls you up and says, “Mow the lawn.” The Bishop does the mowing around here. I think he doesn’t mind it once he’s out there, but he doesn’t like getting started. And we need a new mower this year. Ours is broken and it doesn’t work. I looked on Craigslist to find a used one but I found the listings confusing if you don’t know anything about lawn mowers. “Powered by rainbows! Not at all heavy! Has an on and off switch! Turns your grass into pure love! Only free for you, Lady Mishegas, because you are so, so special!”
None of them say that. They all say things like, “Gas-powered. Sort of works but needs a new squidider and a tune-up. Come and get it (call first) but you need a big, big truck. $800 OBO.”
In other news, I’m going to have to change Baby Peanut’s name to Toddler Peanut, as he is slowly but surely taking to his feet. He is still very unsure, he does it more for entertainment than transportation, but it’s happening. I thought he would be early, but he’s not at all. Almost 17 months. He calls all transportation “busssss” or “go!”, he calls all food “cookie!” (including my breasts!) and he has us wrapped around his curly little finger and he knows it. I’ll walk into a room and he says, “Mama!” and holds up his arms to be picked up and that’s it. He’s so great. I mean, I know I’m biased but he is. Except this morning he decided that he really NEEDED to hit me over the head with a plastic teapot. And no amount of gently explaining to him that mama doesn’t want to be clocked over the head with a plastic teapot would distract him from his goal. Finally, I took the teapot away, and much crying ensued. So I picked him up and snuggled him and sang him a song about a dog, which I made up, and soon he was content again.
In other, other news, we got a new car. See, the red one, the ’96 that my mom gave me for free! sounded like maybe it needed something in its engine or brakes. Which sucks because I had already put $900 into the sporklonkulator plus ALL NEW TIRES. Total spent repairing the red car, $1,200. And I drove it for 7 months. And then I brought it into the repair shop and they called me up and they said, “Well, it needs work but don’t even bother because it has GIANT RUST HOLES IN THE BOTTOM and is not safe to drive lest the engine fall out the bottom.” Even *I* could understand that. So The Bishop and I talked about it and we agreed that although our budget for car payments is -$620 monthly, we would have to find the money anyway and we bought this sweet, zippy little Mazda 3. It’s small, it’s fast, it has a stereo, and it TALKS TO MY PHONE. Listen, this is probably not new or exciting to you since you’ve probably bought a car since 2004, but I hadn’t, and my new car, which I named “Blue Silver,” (“Is that a Duran Duran themed name?” says the Bishop. “You can’t give it a Duran Duran themed name. It’s my car too.”
“No, honey, it’s because of the color, which is sort of a blueish silver! Honest!”) the car knows my phone. I press a button or two and I say, “Call Bishop Mishegas,” and Blue Silver sings, “Calling… Bishop Mishegas,” and then it calls the Bishop and he answers and says, “STOP CALLING ME FROM YOUR CAR YES, IT’S VERY NEAT, BUT I AM TRYING TO GET SOME WORK DONE.”
See, he said it’s MY car.
That means I can name it “Blue Silver.”