Life As *I* Know It.

It's a mess. Not like "catastrophic how ever will we survive?" mess, but more like "ew, what happened here?" mess.

I kinda like it that way. On a subconscious level.

The older child has loose eyeballs. I should have them checked out by a doctor, I think. They just roll all over in their sockets every time I talk to her. "Kid, you need to clean your room." *roll* "Hey, can you help your sister?" *roll* "What the hell is wrong with your eyes?" *roll*

The younger one needs an exorcist. No kidding. I'm not a religious person, per say, but the child appears to be possessed. "Other kid, you need to clean your room."  "Okay mommy." And then the room goes from What The Hell Happened Here? status right to Motley Crue Partied Here And Charlie Sheen Went Ape Shit And Vikings Pillaged As Well status. How does a preschooler flip a mattress across the room?!?

I'm going back to school. Because I thrive in chaos, I guess. Working full-time at a homeless shelter for next-to-nothing pay isn't nearly exasperating enough so I have to add some full-time classes on top of it.

And it's Spring, so the crazies are out. Does that happen in every town, or is mine special? Spring brings out the crazy people around here. Maybe mental health workers all just say "Fuck it." in the spring and open the doors. I'm not sure what happens, but there are definitely more crazy people around in Spring. Like Friday, for example- a scruffy, unkempt guy came into my work and began spitting on the floor. Not 'haaaaack- ptoooie' spitting, just little 'pffft' spits. So I asked him "Um... what's up? Why are you spitting all over the place?" And he says "This place! Disgusting! Eeech! *pffft*". Now I don't know what you would have responded with, but I felt a sense of camaraderie with the guy. After all, this is my work. So "Yeah, I know. It's awful, right?" Apparently that was exactly the right response because he looked up and said "You get it." And indeed I do. I absolutely get it. I don't even need to know what 'it' is, really. I'm on board. So I asked him to walk with me. We went outside and down the block. I showed him the town fountain. He thought it was a great waste of water. And once he began his crazy tirade on the wastefulness of our nation, I quietly walked away. Because he's crazy, you know? I don't want to be associated with all that. Instead, I went to the alley for a cigarette break and watched the regular crazy guy (regular as in known to me, not regular as in this is perfectly acceptable) yell at the phone pole. Because that's a more acceptable crazy. Mostly because it doesn't involve me at all.

I have to build furniture today. Somehow I decided that the easiest way to control my life while being a full-time employee/student/mother of two was to organize things first. But I can't just do that. I have to take stock, rearrange, re-rearrange, overhaul and then organize. This applies to everything- important papers, furniture, storage spaces. Everything. I cannot possibly go back to school if Tayler's kindergarten papers are mixed in with her 5th grade report cards. How could I? It would be madness! Remember now- degrees of crazy. I'm a fairly low degree. Safe enough. Anyway, I have to build (yes, build. Nothing in the store is exactly right) a new entertainment stand to hold all that crap. That has to happen so that I have room to move the turtles and their tank to a different wall. And that has to happen so that I can move a couch to yet another wall (Just wait. This actually does pertain to school. Eventually.) And that has to happen so that I can move the file cabinet to a corner near electricity. And that has to happen so that I can set up a desktop computer and a printer. And that has to happen so that I can print stuff for school. See? Obviously I need to build furniture.

That's how it goes around here. Project Of Necessity requires me to first do Projects numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, and 7 Of Frivolousness. Yes, I left out 5 and 6. I leave those out on purpose so that I can bitch about them later. Shut up- do I tell you how to run your life? Do I?

So in the end I have unruly children, a job full of crazies, disorganized and slightly insane methods of organizing, and entirely too much on my plate.

This is what I would call a Good Day. Why?

Because it's Spring.

Did I mention crazies come out in Spring?