Monday, January 20, 2014

Moving, Yet Again

Busy, busy, busy. I had Friday off, using some of my roll over PTO, and spent the day filling boxes, carting them down three flights of stairs, and driving them to the Bat Cave. It wouldn't be so bad if I had any upper body strength but, as I do not, I have to carry one box at a time. At this point, I really don't have anything left in my Super Expensive Storage Unit in Mesquite. It felt like a lot of work, especially since the Bat decided he was not going to help me one bit when it came to my moving shit. He did clear out the closet in the guest room, and get plywood to put up in the attic so I can store some stuff there, but he resolutely refused to help me get my crap. I even asked him out right if he'd help me move my two night stands but he said he didn't feel like it. I don't know what to make of that. I actually texted him and told him how awful it felt and that if he didn't want me to move in, just say so. It would be perfectly fine, but I do need to make other arrangements. His response? "We're fine, chill." Evidently he has selective reading as well as selective hearing as I wasn't at all worried about 'us'. C'est la vie, I suppose. I told Gatherer (remember? Hunter's wife, because I'm clever like that) about it and she said that men are funny and that the Bat and I haven't been in a real relationship in a long time (referring to his being single for so long and my not being in a long term thing since J) and that maybe he just doesn't want to think about it. It was an interesting thought (and there was more to it but I doubt I could do it justice) so I'm going with it. He's weird, is the Bat. I was going to sell Clyde to Gatherer but when the Bat found out he said "What?! What did you do that for?" I told him I needed the money and he said "I told you to quit doing that shit." Apparently, I am to use him as my personal pawn shop as he bought it from me instead.

He also kept saying that we'd give my bike (the one I acquired from the moving company) to Monkey. I told him no, I would see if my friends wanted it. Ended up selling it to Gatherer for $50 so that she could give it to someone for charity. Petty of me, I know, but quite audacious of him to be so cavalier about making plans for my belongings when he couldn't even be bothered to help me move.

But that is almost entirely done. A friend from work and her husband will help me move the scant remainders of my furniture and then I'll just have to clean. Other than that, I've not been very busy. I did have an interesting moment on Saturday night though. I was cleaning, watching Miss Marple, and knitting, you know, old lady stuff. I came into the living room to find Bubbles sitting the v of the two sofas, hissing and growling at the two growling dogs. Idiot over here decided to try and lift the cat to extricate her from the situation so she did what any threatened cat would do and clawed me. Cunt. I eventually just herded the dogs out of the room and went about my business, allowing Bubbles to retreat on her own.

Back to work tomorrow. We have evaluations coming up in March. I had to email my boss three times and IM her to make sure she asked two colleagues to do peer reviews. I wanted to make sure of that because if only my boss evaluated me, I'd be screwed. She generally has no idea what I'm doing, has never once read something I've sent to her in preparation for a one on one meeting, and spent many months judging me on a bullshit spec I wrote that no one was going to read rather than looking over my more current work. I'm going to make sure I have a binder full of the work I've done because we have to meet with our managers after we've read our evaluations and I need to have evidence on hand to show her I'm not simple.

Hmm, what else? Anything? The weather in Texas has been lovely after the very low temps that occurred as a side effect of the Polar Vortex (I wonder how many pornos will be made with a joke title referencing this). I'm not being at all healthy or exercise-y like I should (though moving shit can be counted as physical activity). But I'm happy and healthy enough and am ready, I suppose, to go once more into the trenches - trenches befitting a business analyst that is.

Cannot wait for this move to be over. On July 31, 2007, I moved to High Street in Columbus, Ohio. The next year, I moved to University Village. In 2012, I think, I moved to Westerville, Ohio, in July. The following April, I moved to Texas. Now I'm moving from Mesquite to Rowlett. That is a lot of moving in a short period of time and I hope to not have to do it again any time soon.The good part is that I got rid of so much stuff when I moved to Texas that I have way less stuff to move (and Gatherer is taking all the furniture and my television and stuff I'm not taking) but it also means I can't get rid of much. I don't want to have to buy dishes again or things like that so I'm keeping them and storing them in the attic.

And I'm boring myself at this point so peace out. 

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Hello 2014

Happy New Year! The holiday season has finally ended and we are all, I'm certain, bloated and achy from the excessive celebrations of welcoming the new year. I know I'm one fat fatty who has to reign some shit in and shed the pounds and I can't be alone. So I'm making an actual effort beginning today to do something about this. And other stuff. You know, resolutions and whatnot. I'm tempted to wait until next Monday seeing as, in my mind, the New Year doesn't really start until the first full week, but that's a cop out and I'm trying to be less lazy so January 2nd it is.

Please, we all know January 1st is recovery day. It just is. We stay up, drink way too much, probably eat too little, and wake up hung over and far less merry than we were when we went to sleep. There is no way in hell I'm starting any resolutions on the first.* Do you know what I did? I suggested to the Bat that we ditch the house full of people and go get breakfast. And we did! I was just thinking something simple and easy but he took us all the way to my old neck of the woods to Cracker Barrel, where I have not been in years, and where we had to wait for 30 minutes in a very crowded store area. But it was worth it in the end and I thought it was very sweet of him. I said as much and he said "well, you said you wanted a really good breakfast." I didn't, but it was nice of him nonetheless. Funny guy is our Bat. A lot of the time he doesn't listen; I don't mean that he flat out ignores you, necessarily but when you begin talking he'll cut you off and it's obvious (after you've gotten to know him) that he was in the middle of a thought or concentrating on something (Useful Tip: If the Bat is looking at his phone or his tablet, he may be searching for something that someone mentioned awhile ago and you probably shouldn't try to engage him in conversation until he is done because he will, undoubtedly, cut you off to talk to the other person about whatever it was he was looking at). He also prides himself on 'selective hearing', a stereotype he adheres as a proactive measure against stereotypical female behavior (e.g., if a woman is talking, there is a very good chance that she is whining about nothing, talking about something that bores him, asking him to do something, or some other sitcom fodder like 'typical' female behavior).**

But every so often he surprises you by doing something really nice like taking you to Cracker Barrel for breakfast when you were expecting something like Bob Evans. Or you find an electronic cigarette in your stocking and think "holy shit! He remembered my saying I wanted one for my birthday." Or he will spontaneously tell you that he likes you and you'll know it isn't part of his obligatory repertoire if only because he is, quite obviously, drunk.

I'm glad the holidays are over. The Bat is less stressed, people have calmed down, and we can all go about our business as usual. It feels odd to be in January 2014 and I keep forgetting I'm not in December anymore. But I look forward to things going back to usual with the standard routine (new movies on Tuesdays, occasional happy hour*** on Wednesdays, endless laundry, etc) and less food and booze. Yes, it is fun to come home and find all kinds of snacks on the counters and packed into the refrigerator and freezer from time to time but after awhile the gluttony catches up with me and I just feel heavy and stupid and lazy. Eventually, all I want to do is clean out every cabinet and the refrigerator, make everything uber clean, and start throwing out some of my stuff. Not food necessarily, but just stuff. The purge after the binge I suppose.

After work I'll go to my apartment and see what I can get rid of and what I can bring over to the Bat Cave. I don't want to move too much right now because 'the kids' as I call the Italian and the Honduran (Italian = the Bat's former foreign exchange student; the Honduran is the Italian's boyfriend) will be here for a couple more weeks and there isn't a lot of extra space to put things. As it is, I have very limited space for my clothing. But I want to start the process so that I can throw out as I go and get as much over as possible to avoid a nightmarish rush at the last second. Afterwards, if I have the energy, I'll try to sort some stuff out in the Bat's room (after I've spoken with him, of course; I know I'd want to smack a person if they just started moving my stuff around but I really would like to have another laundry basket and there are three in his room that are filled with other stuff and he just has all sorts of bits and pieces laying about).

So that's that. I really suck at wrapping posts up lately, don't I? Not that the posts have been that great. I'm going to blame the cold. The coldest place in the Bat Cave is the Bat's bedroom and master bath. There is no carpeting (linoleum in the bathroom and concrete in the bedroom) and there is no insulation on the double doors (French? I don't know but they have a bunch of little windows) that lead outside so we freeze until we are under the electric blanket, snuggling. In bed it isn't so bad but it's a hell of a wake up when you climb out at 6 a.m. (or earlier next week, as I'll have to start getting up to avoid terrible traffic when everyone goes back to work).

*Well, I was productive a bit. At one point in the evening I became a dervish of activity and folded laundry, did more laundry, cleaned the kitchen, made myself some food, and picked up in the bedroom. OK, so maybe "dervish of activity" is a stretch but I was sweaty and worn out by the time I was done.

**No, he isn't really some terrible misogynist who believes in the stereotypes about women - or rather, that all women fit said stereotype. I've asked him before because he posts that kind of shit on my facebook wall and I was all "hmm, if dude believes this shit to be true, we need to have a talk." And he told me that no, he doesn't buy into it but that a lot of women do fit the stereotypes (otherwise, said STs would not exist). He's correct, a lot of women do. But I don't fit a lot of them and I'm fairly certain he knows that by now and so when he says or posts certain things, I know he's just giving me shit because that is what he does.  

***Without going into the details - because it would take forever - the Honduran has been the butt and brunt of a lot of sex jokes. Sometimes he is a maniac who fucks, or tries to fuck, everyone and everything. Other times he is to keep on his toes because, any minute now, he is going to be dominated. The Bat and I were joking with him the other day because everyone was gone but we three. The Bat asked what we were going to do and I said "I'll get the zipper mask and leather chaps" and the idea was that we were going to give the Honduran a proper welcome. After a good laugh and a bit of whatever (chores maybe), the Bat suggested Happy Hour. "Hey Honduran, since it is just the three of us, what do you say we go to happy hour?" The Honduran very politely said "no, I think I'm going to pass, but thanks." The Bat then said "come on man, you don't want to go and have a couple of drinks?" to which the Honduran replied "oh, you mean like at a bar? Yeah, sure!" Turns out he thought we meant some sort of kinky, sexual 'happy hour'. It was the best part of the holidays so far.