Chewing Gum Can Be Hazardous To My (Mental) Health

Came across a snarky, inappropriate blog that I have crush on right now, A Beer for the Shower.
Check it out if you like laughing at the antics of under-published, under-employed writers, such as myself.  But as much as I am falling more in like with the beer swilling boys, I am really, really grossed out.

WHY?

I'll tell you why.  Bathrooms have bathroom germs!

Here's the thing, I've watched the science shows, I know about the water mist dispersal rate with each flushing of the toilet, and that I am probably using a tooth brush that has been covered in a light mist of urine and poo.  I just tell myself that the cleaning ingredients in my toothpaste eradicates all icky germs that might be dancing on the spiny bristles.

Food and drink however, have no protective barrier.  There is nothing that could convince me to eat or drink in the bathroom.  My frister (friend/sister) drinks her coffee while she puts on her makeup.  EW!

I'm so paranoid about floating bathroom germs coming into contact with my food I won't even chew gum in the bathroom unless I hide the gum under my tongue with my lips tightly clamped shut.  Yes, I do know how neurotic and insane that sounds, but it's my quirk that I'll gladly hang out to, even though I've worked out most of my neuroses via therapist the past three years.  

Food and/or drinks do NOT belong in the bathroom!

Bathrooms Do Not Equal Foodrooms

Haiku You Too or Random Stuff That I Think Of

I'm picking up writing for Associated Content again.  I got assigned a haiku the other day, which is the only piece of poetry that I can write.  The 5,7,5 rule rocks. I'll be haikuing everyday for them.  At 1 centavo per 100 clicks I should be making 2 cents everyday! 
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Last week after I stopped crying, pulled my head out of the pillows, and got back to work, the first thing I decided to do was to get back to work.  Because nothing more says "I should tackle the 3 weeks of work I left unattended while I dealt with dead grandmother stuff," then re-arraigning the furniture in three rooms.  If I could just remember that I decided this impromptu reorganization at night.  So far my midnight trips to the loo have involved several bruises and a near encounter with a door frame.  But I digress.
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My sarcastic mouth is going to be biting me in the butt soon.  The Kiddo heads of the Kindergarten next month and I can just imagine the phone calls I'll be getting:
"Ms. Pollock, when I asked your son to stop picking his nose, he informed me he was digging for gold."*
"Ms. Pollock, when we go on field trips, please teach your son not to yell at other drivers for driving like morons."
"Your son told another student, 'I might be short, but you are ugly.' This is not an appropriate response towards bullying."
"At Wednesday Mass, when the Priest says 'The Mass has ended," he yelled "Yes!" and attempted to fist bump the child next to him.  This is not tolerable."*

(I know these things are gonna happen, because he's already said this at home.)*
I can't wait for school to start! 

Things I Don't Understand

---  How vacant-faced Casey Anthony wasn't found guilty of at least child neglect or manslaughter?  With my <very limited> knowledge of the law (2 paralegal courses thank you very much!) I understand that in criminal cases the burden of proof is on the prosecution proving their case beyond a shadow of a doubt, but SERIOUSLY, how did the jurors find her innocent of those charges? 

----How female journalist Mac McClelland found violent sex to be the cure to her PTSD?  As an assault SURVIVOR I am all for women taking back control of their lives whether it be facing their attacker in a court, writing or talking openly about their experience without shame, learning self-defense moves, or working with an organization that promotes healing such as the Joyful Heart Foundation.  (Thank you Mariska Hargitay!) 
Several years ago I struggled often with flashbacks during intimate moments with an ex.  It was so hard on the both of us.  Rather than enjoying the expression of our love, I would curl up in a ball crying.  The moment would be lost, he would be angry, and I would usually get drunk.  I have no desire to ever put myself in a situation where I felt like I was under attack again.  Now it took me 7 years and three broken knuckles to get myself the help I needed, so I don't want to discourage this woman from healing, I just have no idea how to support this method of therapy.

----Why my grandmother had to die.

I don't have too much more right now.  I've been out of my groove for a while. 

My Grandmother, My Friend

My Gonga died last week.  I've had so much to do and process these past two weeks.  I am still processing it, but putting this slideshow together for her funeral service was comforting. 

Crossroads or Crosshairs?

Most of you are aware that I am/have been working as a freelance writer for the past few months and while things having been going well, and I have made some contacts and gotten more exposure, the finances are not quiet balancing up yet.  Which I've tried not to worry about.  Till about 2 weeks ago.

My business partner whose entire mantra was "I hate working for the man, I'm gonna work for myself" called me soooooo excited and announced that she had gotten a full time job----working for someone else.  Ok????  How am I supposed to feel about this?  On one hand, "Yea for you!  Go chase that paycheck playing by someone's rules.  I hope you bring in the big bucks."  On the other hand, "Way to go, thanks for honoring the commitment we made to this business partnership!"


So after I freaked out and got depressed for several days, I rallied, came up with a new game plan, and pressed on.  One of the things I did was apply for a small business loan to have some working capital, but b/c my debt (a lot) to income (not enough) ratio is too high I got turned down.  Not much of a huge shock there.

But now I found out that benefits for Jeremiah just got cut by $350 to $16.  Go figure.  Nothing has changed, except the month.  (I hate being a govt sponge right now, but I'm doing all I can to remedy it.)  The woman on the phone who I spoke with/cried to said she didn't understand the rules, but that's the way it was. 

If things don't change by the end of August, I'll probably have to move, but I'm not sure where to go.  My parents don't have the room, so I'll probably have to pull Jeremiah from the private school a church member has offered to pay for and move down to Tampa with my grandmother. 

I'm really upset right now, and could use all the prayers that you can spare.  I am certain that my calling is to be a writer, but I'm really needing God and some serious money to come through for me.

This certainly makes interesting fodder for the rest of my life story.  Maybe I'll be the next JK Rowling minus the retarded wizardry.  Sorry JK, never could get into that shit.

But at least I have this to make me laugh!