Crickets, Showers, & The Library

Showers Are For Jerks With Time
Yes, I know. But if any of you cared one of you would have at least watered my plants while I was away.

So what have I been up to? Not a whole lot. That's the explanation for the radio silence. I'm not a blogger, just a chick who writes on this blog. My life is exceedingly boring. Also, I just found the very best of all blogs called BitchesGottaEat and not only is she literally the funniest blogger I've ever read (I legit laugh my ass off out loud whilst reading), but I don't want to do that thing where you accidentally mimic someone's writing style because they are amazing and you are just you.

So, for the sake of a blog entry and to further shed light on my lameness, I'll offer you this:

I fell in the shower on Sunday. I don't know how it happened but it was epic and not only did I tear down the shower curtain, I also bruised the shit out of my upper right arm and somewhat busted my lip. The Bat keeps making comments about how people probably assume he hit me but let's be serious. If that motherfucker punched me in the mouth, I would have way more than this little scabby thing on my lip. Honestly, it looks like a cold sore, and that is what people assume it is. But tomorrow I'll wear short sleeves so people can see the huge bruise and then let people make of it what they will when I say "I fell".

I also skinned my left knee a little bit. I don't how I forgot about that seeing as I kept kneeling on it this afternoon (more on that later).

Did you know that I hate showering? No, I'm not filthy because I do take showers. I just hate doing it because even though mine last 5 minutes max, they feel endless because I have to wash my god damn hair and that takes forever afterwards. Have to have it up in a towel for at least 15 minutes before I can blow dry it (if I don't blow dry, I look worse than usual). And god help me if I put in the extra effort of using conditioner because I never know when that shit is out. I wash my face, shampoo my hair, then condition because I can only kind of tell that the conditioner is out after I've used soap because my litmus test is "does it feel slippery still?" Then the combing and blow drying that always takes way longer than it does when I get my hair cut at a "salon" where the "stylist" inevitably says "well your hair certainly dries quickly." No, bitch, it doesn't. And I've had it for 33 years and you've touched it once so there is no arguing with me.

I'm more of a bath person for several reasons.

1. As Winston Churchill once said (according to an episode of Seinfeld I saw when I was probably a teenager) "Why stand when one can sit?" 
2. It's nice to relax in a hot bath with Epsom salts and bubbles, reading a book, and drinking a glass (or bottle) of wine.
3. It is way easier to shave your legs when you take a bath because you sit and sweat for awhile and so when you put the shaving cream on your legs, no draft suddenly wafts in to raise up all your goose flesh. 
4. Did I mention reading? Reading in the tub is awesome.

I first started taking epic baths when I was married because J was ALWAYS home due to his work and I had zero alone time. So I would escape into the tub and read and shave and would literally be in there for an hour and would have to reup on the hot water 2 or 3 times. Now, I pretty much just sit for 15 minutes (unless the book is incredibly engrossing, I have some really good wine, and have nothing to do), shave my legs, wash mu'self, and get out. Sometimes, if I'm feeling economical, I will wash my hair and awkwardly rinse it under the tap. More often, I jump in the shower afterwards and undergo the trauma of washing my hair.

I could have left that whole last paragraph out. You now know way too much about my ablutions. But as I was talking about reading at one point, it is a nice segue into the next topic:

Having Fun Isn't Hard When You Have a Library Card
I started volunteering at my local library. It is something I've always wanted to do and even tried to do in Ohio, where I was rudely ignored. Last week I went in for orientation but did not start right away because I came after work and was in heals. Thus far, I have spent about 3 hours stocking shelves and dusting them. Because when I say I want to volunteer at a library, that is exactly what I want to do. No, I don't want to tutor people for GED because I'm a bad teacher and I don't remember that shit. No, I don't want to lead a children's reading group because little kids terrify me. No, I don't want to help in the computer lab because I'll just end up sweaty and in a panic because I don't know shit about computers or any of the programs you want to use. I literally just want to plug my iPod in and push the cart around, stocking shelves and getting used to where things are.

It's awesome and peaceful and, to be honest, slightly nerve wracking. I'm fine with Adult Fiction, Mystery, Romance (dude, people borrow a LOT of Romance), Young Adult, Western, Large Print, and Graphic Novels/Manga. But then there are the books in Spanish and Non-Fiction/Reference, and Spanish Fiction and Non-Fiction/Reference that I had to deal with today and I wanted to shit myself right then and there when there was a woman in the area of Reference (en anglaise) where I needed to be. But I figured it out, and felt like a total badass when I was done. Full disclosure: I have yet to dip my toe into beginning readers and children because that shit is terrifying and so out of order.

Then I dusted some shelves. I have a system you know. I started in Science Fiction because that seemed the dustiest and I did four shelves the first time and two shelves today. Remember how I told you I'd tell you more about my skinned knee? Yeah, between stocking books and dusting shelves, I ground that shit into the floor numerous times. That is part of the reason I only finished that one stack of shelves and didn't start another. The other is that when I did the last one, I literally put the books back in the wrong fucking order and had to take them all off, think about it a whole lot, and put them back.

You know what is really weird about this? As soon as I start stocking shelves, I fucking forget my ABC's and have to mentally say "L, M, N, O" so I can remember which comes where. It's like I'm suddenly paralyzed and can't read or make out letters and I get really nervous that I'm going to put the book in the wrong place by one or two volumes and then the head stocker is going to yell at me and I'll never be allowed back. I think I should probably take a Klonopin before I go in next time.

The other really horrifying part is that there are some books I'd like to look for and check out but I'm paranoid because I think I probably owe some fines. Yeah, they may be a buck fifty but I don't have my wallet on me and would have to mumble, "oh, let me run out to my car real quick" and then stumble back in like a derelict who doesn't appreciate what the library does and pull up my hoodie over my head as I shame facedly pass over my bills.

But all in all, it's good and I enjoy it and plan on doing it on a regular basis, like Tuesdays and Thursdays.

There you have it. I'm old, I'm lame, and that is why I haven't blogged in awhile. Maybe next time I'll talk about my planned standing girls' nights and talk about my mother's visit if I haven't already. More than likely, I'll be away forever and come back and talk about how I'm lame and wow you with a wall of text about flossing or something.

Whatev, I don't make you read this shit.