You Still Here?

Bless your heart. I know I've neglected you these past two weeks, and for that, I do apologize. But the truth is, I've had so much going on, the majority of which I feel pretty ambivalent about, that didn't want to just unload on you. Until now. Kidding. The main thing stuck in my craw is this whole Going Back to Work for the First Time in Eight Years Thing, but there's been good stuff happening to. Which would you prefer? Thought so.

The new school year has gotten off to a wonderful start, with both Peach and Olive thoroughly enjoying their classes. Olive's teacher has said several times already how "eager" Olive is to get new lessons every day and that she moved right into the classroom like she'd always been there. Peach was thrilled to find out that all 3rd through 6th graders will be taking guitar once a week this year, so she and T-Bone scoured the Internets for the perfect 3/4 size classical guitar, which should be arriving momentarily. The girlies have both also settled into their new dance classes, and I think Peach is really hep to do (gulp) The Nutcracker again this year. Lord, deliver me. Actually, it would be with a different, much closer studio than last year, and without all the required fundraising and volunteering bullshit. So we'll see.

In other news, I am healed! Almost! With a pretty gnarly scar on the bottom of my foot, but still! I ended up taking out the GD stitches myself because it was either that or just cut my entire leg off. A couple of days later, I threw down the crutches and have been slowly but surely putting more and more weight on my bum foot. Of course, I have plenty of weight to go, but baby steps, ya know. Literally.

Last week, I spent 45 minutes at the framing counter at Michael's, where the New Girl tried to write up my very simple order but the computers weren't working and the manager was having car trouble and the other manager was on maternity leave and it must have been the coupon that freaked the computer out and can't anybody else in the GD store pick up a friggin' page already? Finally, some 15 year old got the order put in, but I'm really not feeling to confident about the final product. Who the hell knows how it's going to turn out.

The next day, I spent an hour at the Driver's License Office renewing my GD license, which expired on my birthday because that's how effing OLD I am. Yes, I know you can renew online, but I had to show proof of my SS#, probably because they think I'm eligible already, so I joined the masses in the Coldest GD Waiting Room on Earth, which was actually pretty comforting when I considered how many germs were probably dying at that temperature. Such a nasty place. When my number was finally called, I was waited on by absolutely the Most Bitter Government Employee in the History of the World. Really, truly. I'd put my guy up against ANYBODY you got, and he would scare the everloving shit out of them. I called T-Bone afterwards, and I told him that if that building ever goes up in flames or a disgruntled employee ever goes off his nut and shoots up the place, I would TOTALLY know who did it. The only upside to the whole experience was a commercial I saw on the requisite TV set to close-captioning in the waiting room. The captions are on a bit of a delay, so they don't always match up with what's on screen, which annoyed the crap out of me. That is, until I saw a McCain ad followed by a Macy's sale ad. Right when the Macy's Girls were modeling some of their lovely bras and underwears, the caption above them read, "I'm John McCain. And I approved this ad." Yeah, he did.