is it just me?

I haven't been sleeping well and last night my mind was filled with all kinds of crazy things and I was feeling like kind of a mess. But just when you think you are kind of a mess you read something like this and you realize: in the grand scheme of things, I am doing okay. If you are too lazy to click, it is a story about a woman who sat on a toilet for two years because she was scared to come out (she blames a bad childhood?) and so the toilet stuck to her and it had to be surgically removed. The enabler in all this is her boyfriend, who brought her food and clothes and such. The article (which, seriously, you should read) purports that they had a "normal relationship, except it took place in the bathroom". Um....that's not normal. There is not one normal thing about that. He said time went by so quick he didn't know how long she had been in there. But he finally got worried (!) when she started acting groggy. Not when she stayed in bathroom. For two years. No, that didn't really worry him. Only when she started acting groggy. I can't even think about the details of why she needed to not only be in the bathroom but sitting on the toiled. Oi.

So, now I am actually feeling pretty good about myself. I mean, not only am I not in the bathroom, I am dressed, at work, functioning normally. And all of a sudden things are looking up.

If nothing else, let this be a lesson to you to never, ever get a one bathroom apartment. You know, just in case someone wants to move in to one of them.

maybe I should just call myself in to the IRS right now
We have some funky financial stuff going on this year, so I decided it would be wise to use the services of a tax professional. So, we called a firm we have used before. Since we are calling at the highly irresponsible date of mid-March, we get assigned to the new girl. Uh oh. I decided it would be fine, all the other people can help her, right? But still, somethings are okay for the new guy, others, not so much. My fears were not allayed when I walked into the room where she was talking to Mr. Lizard, and she called me by his first name. This wasn't that big of a deal, as he does have a gender neutral name, but then I find out that she called HIM by MY first name. Which is not gender neutral. She was generally confused, and flustered. And when we handed her the paperwork for the transactions that made us think we needed a professional, she got ever more confused. We sat there and tried to get it all straight and she said "I'm sure I can figure it out." Very confidence inspiring. Turns out she knows my sister in law, and we spent more time talking about that than, you know, how to get our taxes right. So let's just hope that everything pans out in the end. But you don't really want surgeons or tax people or the guys fixing your brakes to say "well, I'm not exactly sure I did it right, but I am sure it will be fine". eek.

why I work Volume I
Deciding whether or not to go back to work after you have kids is a tough decision. Well, kind of. I was sure I wanted to go back to work, because I really don't think I would be very good at staying home. Of course I have my misgivings about leaving my kid, and I feel guilty sometimes and I get angry when people tell me they have 'sacrificed' to stay home with their kids because for me it isn't about money it is about personal happiness. However, here is a conversation between me and Baby Lizard yesterday.

BL: car?
mama: yep, that's a car.
BL: car
*guy gets out of the car*
BL: walk?
mama: yep, he's walking to the house.
BL: walk.
mama: mmmhmmm
BL: knock?
mama: yep, he's knocking at the door.
BL: knock?
mama: yeah, he's knocking.
BL: KNOCK?
mama: yeah, he's knocking on William's door. He's waiting for him to open it.
*William our neighbor mercifully opens said door, and the guy disappears inside.*
BL: Go? (this means 'where did x go, a question which is asked approximately one million times a day. often I don't know what x is, and even if I do I almost never know where it went.)
mama: he went inside the house.
BL: go?
mama: inside the house
BL: go?
mama: inside. to see william.
BL: go?
mama: he went inside. I think he and William are watching movies. want to play with puzzles?
BL: go?
mama: want some banana?
BL: go?
mama: *bangs head on table and tries to decide if it is too early to start drinking*
BL: car.
mama:
BL: go?
mama:
BL: knock?

So pretty much, if I stayed home all day I would spend 30% of my time lying about where people/cars/busses/etc went, 30% banging my head on the table, 20% counting minutes until nap time, and 20% enjoying my totally fabulous kid. So, I have decided to skip the first 80%, and focus on the last 20% from the hours of 4-8pm. More power to anyone who has the patience to do it all. You are better women than I am. Or you have a serious drinking problem.