Yup. I’ve lost my beloved writing room. Right after Thanksgiving, No-No moved back in.
“I’ve got twelve days left in the homeless shelter and then they’re kicking me out into the streets,” she said, tears spilling down her cheek. I believe they puddled around her feet and drowned Sweetman’s heart.
Well…I didn’t want my daughter in the street either but she needed to learn some lessons.
1. Never give up your job or your life to a religious Sausage. Especially, if you’ve met them on Facebook. Remember when she moved to NYC?
2. Don’t ever get complacent. LOOK FOR A JOB! No-No went from friend’s house to friend’s house since she came back to Florida. The last friend drove her to the homeless shelter.
3. No matter where you’re at THERE ARE RULES! Follow them or else!
4. No one likes a SLOB! Do your part in keeping the common areas clean and respect the father-figure in the house even though he is a serious PITA!
So folks this is my writing area again:
Yup. I’m back out in the kitchen with Sweetman’s scrutinizing eye. Anything out of place makes him crazy. But what I’m about to show you makes him even crazier. Insane, in fact.
The above picture was my desk. I can’t seem to make heads or tails of it now that its been taken over by No-No.
No-No has no problem living in the midst of any pile. Books. Smelly, dirty clothes. Dirty dishes. Forks. Spoons. Bags of food.
“I don’t understand where all the spoons and glasses are going,” Sweetman said, opening up the dishwasher. “Isn’t there any spoons?”
“Yup. You’ll find them somewhere in No-No’s room.”
Not to mention, No-No is seriously nocturnal. She’ll sleep until 1 or 2 pm everyday.
“Hey,” I said. “Don’t you think you should go to bed at normal hours so you’re up early. Job searches and interviews happen in the morning not at midnight.”
“But you don’t understand,” she said, pulling the covers over her head. “My eyes hurt at night and I can’t sleep.” The child has a secret box of hidden excuses somewhere. I swear she does. I need to borrow it for future projects.
So she’s back home occupying my office as her tomb. Sir Poops and Hair Ball are happy as pigs in shit. They’ve got their rancid smells and open-all-day-buffet again. They have absolutely no problems with it.
As for freezer spiders…
We’ve got them! And they’ve been spinning a blizzardry(I made up that word…okay…say it three times holding your tongue) weave throughout our freezer. This is the closest thing to being snowed in as I get. It’s no fun having to pick through the ice to get to the food. It’s taking me some serious survival skills, too.
Thank God, the spider killers will be here tomorrow.
That’s all for now folks!
See you all later in the ink,
Shelly
