Slow Hand

It's been a few days, so let me recap on the various recent events that somehow comprise this neurotic life of mine.

Friday was pure insanity. Madness, I say, madness! It was my very last Friday at my current job, which is cause for celebration of the doing-shots-from-your-cleavage variety. Still, I couldn't fully enjoy it, because Satan got a crooked halo up his butt and decided to unleash the fury of hell on our poor little crap-nasty office. For the past month and a half, we've been publishing an entire newspaper on one computer. One. For four people. We made it work for the first few weeks, but we're now in the busiest time of the year and it's just not working out. In addition to the paper, we (as in, I) have to create a special supplement, and our receptionist has to type eight pages of legal advertisements. That's eight full-length newspaper pages, folks, in an itty bitty typeface. On top of that, I'm leaving next week (hear the angels singing?), and I've got to get my guys trained. Oh, and the tech guys from headquarters have decided next week will be an opportune time to bring down the new (hand-me-down) equipment and get it all set up. Keep in mind that this is the same equipment they promised would be delivered right after I started there. A year ago.

Oh, but there's a light at the end of this tunnel ... for me, anyway. I don't know what those other fools are going to do. Mwuhahahaha.

The home life will soon experience a gear shift, and it ain't for slowing down. After a luxurious week-long break from class, I start two new ones on Monday. This will be the first time I've taken two grad classes at once, and I'm kind of nervous about it. Of course, the new job means I'll work strictly from 8 until 5 and won't have to cover night meetings or stay late. That will free up a significant amount of study/homework time.

The boys will be here next weekend, and Steve and I still have a lot to do to get ready. I need to clean their bathroom and make a few furniture adjustments, plus figure out what young boys eat. I don't think their mother would take kindly to me starving them to death, so I need to get thyself to the grocery store and likely purchase copius amounts of Cheetos, Pepsi and Easy Mac. Hey, no one ever said anything about feeding them healthy things.

And, finally, the house hunt begins ... well, kind of. After deciding to look for a house, then deciding to wait until January, then changing our minds again, Steve and I looked at a house today. We have mixed feelings. It's in a great location, right outside of city limits and RIGHT NEXT TO OUR GOLF COURSE (Steve's very favorite feature). It was more than big enough, and is priced within our range. Still, it would need a lot of work. I'm not thrilled with how the outside looks, and even less thrilled with the inside. Don't get me wrong, it's not trashy or falling down or anything like that. It's just not what I was hoping. I *think* Steve feels the same way. But I can't be sure, what with the golf course being within walking distance. It's the first one we actually looked at, and I think we're going to keep searching.

Anyhoo. We had a great time together today. Steve decided I needed a new set of golf clubs, because the ones I had were men's, and though I'm tall and have man hands, it's supposed to make a difference. So we drove to our nearest sporting goods store (an hour away!) where I picked out the most beautiful set of neon pink golf clubs and bag you've ever seen. They're garishly pink, and I love them feverishly. I've heard a lot of women golfers say they don't like how equipment manufacturers market stuff to women by making it all girly. I'm not one of those women. I don't care if my bag is visible from space. It's pink and it's mine so shut up.

Aside from the purchasing of golf equipment, the drive over and back was really pleasant. Steve plugged his iPod into the Jeep and we spent the entire trip taking turns choosing songs and singing, in a very silly manner, at the top of our lungs. Steve's a rock 'n roll/metal kind of guy, but he has a soft spot for some old country, which is what I really like. For me, there's nothing better than cranking up the Conway Twitty for a little "Slow Hand" on a sunny day. God bless that man of mine. He puts up with way more than most men ever would.

Sing it with me ... darlin' don't say a word/i've already heard/what your body's sayin' to mine/you're tired of fast moves/you got a slow groove/on your mind ....