"Me" Time

Memorial Day weekend - for most a glorious 3 days of no work, lots of play, family and friends, really good food - and lots of leftovers if you are brave enough (or your parents were ;)) to hold it at your own home. For me this meant work, work, and one more day of work. Though it also means that today - a Wednesday - I am not working and it is a scheduled day for the kiddo to go to daycare per I am usually working. As I shared the above schedule for the day (child in daycare, no work) my folks said "oh it's like a vacation" and "you deserve a day off" forgive me as I cannot explain the tone but my head wanted to turn around exorcist style and spew something nasty, yet I did not. So I decided to try and make it a me day - details on the "trying" part of that below.

So after I dropped off the kiddo at daycare, grabbed milk for the out of milk household - in which I actually only use the cow's milk for cooking/baking...seriously it's like all the work of being married without actually being married or any of the good perks....and went back to bed. Back to bed was step one of my me day, there was no trying needed here. It was tough to get out of bed though, but I did, looking forward to a homemade mini brunch so I forced myself into the shower. Here is where the trying began, as in the shower floods of "needs to get done today" thoughts flew into my head - I shoved them out as best as possible, though laundry is still on the back burner of my mind.

I got dressed and made it upstairs, went to go make my wonderful egg white sandwich and boom - no eggs. So I searched for a substitute - turkey, provolone, and Roma tomatoes should do - I debated cleaning out the fridge "no I told myself" the hunger helped egg me on - no pun intended. So I ate, looked a little at Facebook, and enjoyed my meal. Then I came to blog, lol. This really is a me thing though - I could care less if you actually read it, OK I care but you know what I mean.

As I was enjoying my satisfied belly and blogging, my father came up to tell me he was going out, where he was going, asking my plans for the day, suggesting a pre-check for the possible afternoon swimming - and I wanted to bang my head against the table....repeatedly. OMG do not live with your folks as an adult especially if trying to raise a child - anywho he left, so that means the house is empty and I can enjoy my attempt at a "me" day. I may post later to let you know how it all turned out :)

Suburban Defintions and Clarifications

Today's post is inspired by yet another Facebook post in which many debated over the comments section of said post. If you knew me, where I grew up, my self-instilled values - you would understand that I do not judge the Suburbia that I live in or the people that have settled here, nor is that the purpose of my blog.

Let us start with the basics:

Suburb: a smaller community adjacent to or within commuting distance of a city

I am fine with this, I live in a metro area and have a child, no city apartments please.

Suburbanite: a resident of a suburb

Transplanted, but yes I guess I am - below is a deeper explanation.

Urban Dictionary definitions of suburbanite:

Pretending that they have lots of money, but are actually broke after spending it all trying to impress people with their McMansions, SUVs, etc.

Not me folks - I live with my parents in Suburbia in a McMansion that I did not agree with the purchase of (nor in the future am looking forward to getting rid of) and I do own a very modest almost 10 year-old paid off SUV. I am however surrounded by the above - this is what I do not like about society in general, the sacrifice for that ideal. You lose family time, money, me time, peace time, money to those who need a dwelling in general be it a tent even...I could go on and on.

Love of shitty chain "restaurants" such as Applebee's, Chili's, The Olive Garden, IHOP, etc.

I do love an Olive Garden salad and soup meal - because it is under $8 and unlimited...hello; I do meet at a chain for "girls night" only because they are the only decent things around, deal on the cheap, have drink specials, and we sit in awe at ourselves out of body realizing that we are old and are talking about what school our kids are going to go to before finishing half of said drink and getting into the wow our families are a little wacky and remember the college and/or pre-kid days. We also give each other "yes that is totally normal, thank God I am not the only one who thinks like that" monthly mental check-ups.

Lacking in social skills and intelligence, due to their refusal to interact with anyone other than their elementary/middle school classmates from 15-20 years ago.

Surprisingly, the suburbanites I have come across - well a handful I guess - are very intelligent, not lacking in social skills, and are transplanted just as I am. Now, have I become accustom to the classic hand wave as a car with dark windows you assume is a neighbor drive by, sadly yes though I do side-eye myself more often than not during this wave.

So my point, the people and events I speak about in my blog are generally the ones falling in the first Urban dictionary category who are afraid to let the true colors show - until they have a drink or two at the culd-a-sac party after the food has been eaten and the kids are off around the neighborhood. The folks that you only know exist because of the aforementioned car wave but never exit their house, the ones that have lost the true meaning of what it means to own a home and I do not mean mowing the lawn, the walking dead.

I hope you get me now to some degree and why this blog is meant to exist: to debunk the childhood myth that I was "rich" because we rented (rent being the operative word) out the one house in the neighborhood with pillars that were rotted out and could be kicked from their stands and needed a bad paint job.