Oh, nothing. Just sitting here at 5am with my throbbing, infected toe soaking in a pan of salty peppermint water. Just the usual.
I went on a plant/tree/flower shopping frenzy about a week or so ago and ever since then I've been playing Ron Weasley wizard's chess with the trees. Dragging them around my hugemongous and embarrassingly bare front yard. Trying to find the perfect spots for all of them. And then I've also been waiting on the actual desire to get out there in the considerable heat and humidity and dig twenty-teen motherfucking holes. So, it finally rained while John and I were out (he was having an ultra-sound, after which I was unabashedly buying more goddamn plants. Canna and Asiatic lilies if you must know.) Anyway, it rained a goodly amount and cooled off some and softened up the ground, so I carpe diemed the shit outta the moment and dug and mulched and planted. Two gardenias, a magnolia, a mimosa. a dogwood, the lilies and a sedum plant. Yay Me! And I only dug up one Charter TV cable and I only shoved something foreign and painful up one big toe. Did I say "Yay me!" yet? I smooshed some brownish-bloody pus out from beneath it about a half our ago. We'll see how it progresses from here on out.
In other news and events, two weeks ago I lost my job of basically 14 years. It wasn't unexpected. Everyone lost or is losing their job as the company, whom we'll call BandAid, decided to close three of it's DC's and build one ginormous one in SC. Ain't nobody got time for SC. So I, and 90% of my co-workers chose to be severed. As in, Give me my mother-clucking severance check. Like I said, it's been two weeks and I'm still waiting on mine. In the mean time, I've already gotten another J-O-B. But I need some time to write a novel and plant a garden and dig-holes and annoy John and my crazylittlemama and my sisters and all the nieces and nephews, and do some fare to middlin' traveling, so I won't be starting the new job until July 11. Plus, we desperately need a new front porch, as ours looks like something out of an Erskine Caldwell novel. So I have to help John over-see that project. He's my shmoop, you know. And he found out today he has a 2.2 centimeter "nodule" type thinf on his thyroid. If you're a praying type person, now would be the time where I'd ask you to send out some love and healing vibes for that sweet and confounding man of mine.
As my toe-water has turned tepid, I'm gonna peace the fuck outta this post. See if I can squeeze some more mud out of the nail-bed, then snuggle back up with John and a cat or three. Gotta get up in an hour anyway to go flea-marketing/thrift-storing/shenaniganing with my eldest sibling. "Goddammit! Don't you people have fucking jobs?!!"