the sloppy copy

I’m off work today, which means I slept in. And even after I woke up, I did that thing where you just sort of lay around your bed and check stuff on your phone that really doesn’t need to be checked until finally you sit upright and think I guess I should get up now, but only because you’ve got to pee real bad.

So I got up and did my biznass and changed out of my pajamas immediately because a) if I kept them on I would have crawled back into bed and b) I dress for bed like it’s 110 degrees under the covers [because I swear to you, it is] and turns out the rest of the un-bed world was a bit chilly.

On account of the snow and all.

Ah, yes. Snow. Beautiful, glorious flakes of white falling from the sky. Silently floating through the air, simply magnificent it is. Goddamn glorious.

Did i mention I don’t have to work today?

Normally I’d see the snow and feel dread. I’d give it a few minutes, then start grudgingly getting ready to go into work early, all the while wanting nothing more than to curl up with a cup of coffee and a blankie by the window while watching it fall. Work has (almost) ruined snow for me, which is really one of the few things I genuinely dislike about my current occupation (people and policies and all that standard work-vitriol aside).

I admit, there is part of me that enjoys riding in there early and being assigned a particular problem that needs cleaning up (“Yay! I fixed this one tiny thing out of 8,000,000 things, but I did it all by myself! PRAISE ME, DAMNIT.”), or even coming in at my scheduled time and just diving head-first into the mess and not coming up for air until 3 or 4 hours later (“Uh, my first break was two hours ago…”).

But curling up with a good book and a cup of tea feels pretty fucking good, too.

Now if you need me for the next five hours or so, I’ll be here (bad pic, pretend like you can see the pretty snow falling)…

Edit: I was just trying to decide what I wanted to read when I realized it doesn’t matter because I HAVE A KINDLE AND I CAN READ WHATEVER I WANT. I CAN READ ALL THE BOOKS. ALL THE BOOKS ARE BELONG TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Whew. Sorry about that.

This morning I stumbled on an article called “12 Things I thought About Babies…Before I Had One.”

This oughta be good, I thought. And away I clicked.

As I read, though, I became confused. Who the hell wrote this? Under what giant-ass rock had she taken up residence? Did she not know any other people with children?

The list includes things like It’ll be easy to get out with the baby. Seriously? Had this woman never watched someone try to shop for groceries when 99% of their shopping cart is taken up by an infant seat? Or seen someone wrestle a stroller onto public transportation? And it’s not just struggling with the baby-carrying receptacle. Don’t forget the 20-lb diaper bag. And your own stuff. I’ve taken cross-country flights and packed less baggage than it takes to transport one small human from home to the Walgreens.

My personal favorite? I’ll be naturally good at being a mom. FOR REAL: Does anyone actually think that? Sure, if I ever have kids I’m sure I’ll instinctually want to, like, protect them and shit. But naturally being able to just fucking BE a parent? This woman is downright delusional, unless her idea of parenting is just to leave the kid alone and occasionally check on them to make sure they’re conscious. I hear people say stuff like “Oh, so-and-so would be a good Dad / Mom,” after watching that person make silly faces at someone else’s kid for 0.7 seconds. No. Uh-uh. That ain’t how it works. I’m sure there are some excellent silly face-makers on your local sex offender registry.

Does that qualify them to raise children?

I admit that my perceptions of parenthood and children are skewed. Kids scare the hell out of me and the idea of raising one makes me exhausted and cranky and anxious just thinking about it. Yeah, yeah: they say it’s rewarding as hell in the end and there are fun moments and I also hear they eventually stop pooping on you and learn to tie their own damn shoes. I’ve just got myself mentally prepared for the absolute worst, and it kind of boggles my mind that this attitude isn’t damn-near universal.

This isn’t to say that if I ever find myself faced with such a curse blessing, I won’t be happy or excited. I’d just like to think that, thanks to my friends who’ve forged this path before me, I have a much more realistic idea of the whole thing.

They’ve quasi-recently opened a gargantuan Menard’s store not too far from here. To this point, I’d only been peripherally aware of this chain’s existence. I’m pretty sure they were a thing in Indiana when I lived there light years ago, but I don’t ever remember visiting one in the five years I spent as an adopted Hoosier.

I honestly had no idea what sort of goods or services this place offered until recently, when I started perusing their Sunday circular novella. No, for serious. The Menard’s ad that comes in the paper each week is absolutely enormous. 85 pages of every-damn-thing you can imagine, Now On Sale! Do you need a reciprocating saw? Go to Menard’s! 4 tons of decorative landscaping gravel? Go to Menard’s! How about some Cheerios? Or beef jerky? Or tomato soup? Go to Menard’s! Long underwear? Women’s hair accessories? A swing set? Granite countertops? GET THEE TO A FUCKING MENARD’S.

In fact, I’ve found it’s easier to list things that are not available for purchase at your local Menard’s (you’re welcome):

Coffins
Children
Marital aids
Ferrets
Ferret-like marital aids
Dictionaries
Opera glasses
Coffee filters

Menard’s, if you’re reading this, the coffee filter thing really puzzles me. Clue me in here, please. Also: maybe consider the ferret idea. You’d certainly have that market locked down.

You can’t tell me you don’t think this guy is at least open to the ferret thing…