Too Many Books

T Top Ten Things I Loved About Being Home Alone      Hubs is traveling for work, so I got the house to myself last night. Daughter is on fall break with her dad... We've lived here about a year and a half, and it was my first night alone since we moved in. 10. The heat. I had it all toasty up in here and there was no one to adjust the thermostat except me. Granted, I woke up in a blistering sweat. 9. The quiet. Delicious, unbridled quiet. I swear, ever since COVID, my noise tolerance has gone down to about a one. 8. A marathon binge of This Is Us. Somehow, I forgot to watch most of Season 5, so mama stayed up late finishing off the season and had a good cry or two. 7. The coffee. No one to share it with = more for me. 6. The food. I ordered this pecan cranberry chicken salad for lunch yesterday that was TO DIE FOR. Then, I got nachos for dinner and ate them on my couch in a judgment free zone. Not that hubs would judge my nacho eating ability - hell, he would have been impressed. 

 T The truth is, I've really been hating my day job. It feels good to say that out loud on the page.  I don't want to tell everyone, but it's sucking the life out of me. However, I'm a real asshole for complaining about it.  I have a good gig. I make a really good salary. I get to be challenged like never before in my fifteen years in the industry. The company I work for (the people who represent it) have given me promotion after promotion, believed in me and allowed me to rise through the ranks to sit where I do today. Which is at home, warm and in my pajamas, because I don't have any client meetings or zoom calls today. The culture itself has always been team oriented.  I no longer have sales goals. I don't have quotas to meet, I don't feel compelled to hit "numbers," and my annual bonus doesn't depend on anything like that.  There is no struggle to fill my fridge, keep the lights on, and no need to think too hard before spending money on all

 T Top Ten COVID Confessions 1) We ordered from Door Dash three separate times this past Sunday. This is not the first time since COVID began that we have made a day of Door Dash meals. For those of you who are curious, we ordered bagels from a local bakery, something for dinner but I forget what, and like eight desserts from a local place. #EatLocal 2) We binged the 4th season of Australian Survivor (streaming on Paramount) in about three days. This took serious dedication, and left my back feeling tight because we watched the majority of it in bed 3) Speaking of bed, we spend many evenings and weekends in bed, literally, especially on Sundays. Hubs likes to watch "Seven Hours" of NFL football, and I'll watch along with him or: nap, read, write. 4) Also speaking of bed, we eat in bed, like, a ton. If my daughter is with her dad, we post up in bed and have had everything from steak to ribs on a white comforter that has seen better days. 5) We re-watched LOST, Fringe, and

 T Therapy session yesterday: in which I try to be honest and then spent the better part of the hour trying not to cry, before finally giving in and letting out choke-sobs and covering my face with my hands. A good cry is so cleansing, but I tend to hold it in other than when I'm watching the Bridges of Madison County for the hundredth time. Tears are also reversed for episodes of This Is Us, sappy commercials (you know the ones) and the ends of books like Elin Hilderbrand's 28 Summers.  For whatever reason, I got that typically masculine gene where I feel like crying is a sign of weakness.  Well, not for whatever reason. It's thanks to complex trauma in my past. Thankfully, my therapist gave me some great homework - reading the first couple of chapters of The Living Legacy of Trauma.  She had me scan through the first chapter in the middle of our session. I wanted to just TALK, but I read through and the bolded beginning really hit home -  "A traumatic event is not ov

 A Anyone else really hard on themselves, or is that just me? (Thank god I have a therapy session at 4:00 today. I could save this for later, but, if feels good to spill this out.)  I mentioned yesterday - I've been so exhausted. I really chalk it up to the new medication, but internally, my self-talk has been off-the-charts negative.  Yeah, so I'm tired and feel like I need a nap to function. So what? Why is that a character flaw? I also took a look at alltheotherreasons I might be tired: I'm not drinking enough water, I'm over-doing it on alcohol and caffeine, I'm eating too many fried foods (and ordering too many meals from Door Dash) and I like, never exercise. Yeah, these are all choices and habits and items I can improve on, but I was essentially telling myself that I pretty much deserve to feel like crap. I sit here with a giant ice water in front of me, and a giant WTF, self?! at the forefront of my brain. You guys have no idea how lucky I am. I have a go

 I  I started a new medication recently, and the side effects are ruining me.  The fatigue started a couple of weeks ago. I feel so tired  all day it's almost like I never wake up. After a full eight hours or more, I'm still needing a cat nap in the middle of the work day - just to get through it.  Thank god I'm still working from home.  When I do have to get out to meet clients, I feel so sleepy behind the wheel. It's not unsafe, it's just unnatural.  Yeah, on occasion insomnia has caused some big problems for my mental well being, and my ability to stay connected to reality -  but this new medication is just making me feel really dull. Yesterday, after sleeping a full eight hours, I had to take two naps. And I still fell asleep around 10 pm, and slept until almost seven this morning.  My only dreams are odd and stressful ones.  I need some inspiration. I'm about to start a Master's in Arts in Writing program, and the last thing I'm feeling is creative.

 M  My 10 year old is a mess. On our ride to school this morning, fog blanketed us in a cozy haze. Her take on it? "It makes us look like we live in a serial-killer-town." She starts making noises and explains, it's a killer coming out of the woods, with a chainsaw! She's so dark.  Gone are the Halloweens of old, where I decide she'll be dressing up as: a lady bug, Piglet, or a puppy dog.  It's been two years or so since she did her own makeup as a zombie prom queen.  And now? She prefers to trick or treat from dad's house instead of mine, and she has her reasons. 1) She has a step-sister at Dad's house. Who doesn't want to trick or treat with your sibling? 2) The houses are "closer together..." 3) She also has a DOG at dad's house. (We're petless over here.) She and her doggo like to dress up in couples' costumes.  So, while my husband and I should have her for Halloween weekend, we'll let her trick or treat as she choose

 B Blogging about my sexcapades is bringing me down. Oh, internet. You all sure seemed to be enjoying it. My blog views are up, but my my spirits are not. Going back to these times in my life is a reminder of where I've come from. Now, I'm a happily married woman, in the most complete and satisfying relationship of my life. It only took me until my late 30's to find him.  Thanks, universe.  I say that with some sarcasm, because why couldn't it have been earlier? I could have avoided so much pain (and literally avoided getting peed on.) Hubs doesn't  care about   mind my sexy blog posts. That said, he doesn't want to read them.  He had a hard enough time with my novel. It's heavily inspired by true events, and some of that was hard for him as a reader. Mom just finished it as well. All she's said is that she's "still processing it." He still 100% supports my writing and my story, in the way that I've told it.  About 1/3 of my queries are

Flirted with my best friends neighbor while we sat on my best friends porch. He'd been out on his own porch drinking and came over to join us.  Of course, I ended up going home with him. I'd planned to stay at my best friends house, so sleeping over one house away seemed like an easy yes, please. It was my daughters weekend to be with her dad, so I had no responsibilities holding me back, and the weekend spread out in front of me with wide open abandon. Paul had a good job in insurance and seemed to be a permanent bachelor who enjoyed the same things I did: drinking and sports.  His home was immaculate. A cleaning lady came to ensure everything was just so, and he had his collared shirts professionally pressed and hung.  We drank our faces off before we started kissing near the pool table. Paul seemed to want to lay me down on it, but also expressed concerned that we might destroy the delicate felt.  Up to bed we went, where orgasms shot through us, though dulled by all the alc

 B Brent Last Name Redacted was so perfect on paper. He was in the health care field, gainfully employeed and in school working on an advanced degree. He was a homewoner, even had a great car. I forget what kind. Some luxury SUV.  We met when I passed him in a bar. A great cover band was playing the Commodores' and we happened to lock eyes while we both belted out Easy Like Sunday Morrr-orrr-orrrn-nin.'  "I love this song!" I shouted at him over the final bars. "I wrote it for you," he answered back, with a shy smile.  He wanted to take me home that night, but my friend told him hell no. She always tried to save me from my one night stands and mistakes, and sometimes, I let her. Brent and I exchanged numbers and spent the next day texting back and forth. We both had plans, but decided to meet up around 9:00 pm at a bar and grill near my house.  Over drinks, we decided we were definitely spending the evening together and he drove me to his house after begging