One year and 3 weeks later

P.S. This is the sequel to the next 28 days/weeks later franchise.  It's terrifying.

Especially since over this time not only have I not lost the near 40 lbs I had gained the previous year, but I've added on another 20 for good measure.  Just want to make sure I'm aware of how uncomfortable I feel doing anything, anytime, anywhere.  Sleeping included.

It's been weird.  By "it" I mean life since.... ugh, not even my last post, when I last started this blog.... even then it was called something else with the intent to launch myself into the world of being a writer.  That turned out well, didn't it? That life of blogging was doing alright, actually.  Until I started NaNoWriMo in 2013.  Then it stopped.  Obviously.  You think I’m going to try and cram in a blog post when I’m already attempting to cram in 50,000 words written in 30 days?  Spoiler: I did it.

Haven’t touched it, or this/that blog, since then.

In that time The BF and I got married, which would make him The Husband now.  We got a Corgi named Styrone, who is currently sitting here boofing at me for having moved my foot so he can no longer lick my toes.  The Husband also started a new job, quite the step up in the world of IT from his previous, which he got right out of high school.  Lastly, I started my own business, a home bakery, with my great-grandmother’s recipes (Peez).

Along with other random crap.  I do counted cross stitch to kill time while at farmers markets/events to sell my baked goods and have bee putting off getting them listed on Etsy.  I’m also putting off learning how to make a formal business plan so I can take my home bakery business to the next level…. Whether it’s a commercial kitchen or coffee-shop-bakery-kind-of-thing.

I still sink myself into video games, so I began streaming on Twitch.  Which I’m also flakey at.  I’m trying to get in the healthy habit again, investing in a gym membership and mostly eating better (as I stuff my face with Tostitos covered in melted, shredded Kraft cheese).

And to top all that off, here I am, making a blog post, a rant of a blog post, with no plan to make another one.  Oh dear god it’s like nothing’s changed.

That one dream with Bob Ross and Julia Child

I have odd, vivid dreams.  Last night's was no exception.  It was one of those where the plot changed in and out to multiple dreams and so on.  The following is an excerpt from last night.

I'm in a Bob Ross painting class taught by the man himself.  My cousin and his two sons walk in talking about the [Chicago] Bears and then about my husband's uncle that they are related to as well and how he already died.

Apparently I'm doing a terrible job on my landscape painting and Bob Ross tells me I need to pack up and leave to take Julia Child's Remedial Painting Class.

1. Fuck you, Bob.
2. I wasn't aware that Julia Child also taught paining.
3. Pretty sure she's dead, too.

As I pack up and leave, my sister-in-law shows up and tells me I also have to sell her leftover Avon supplies.  Julia Child's classroom is in the Home Ec room of my middle school.  There's tons of people piling into the class and I can't seem to find a seat as when I put my stuff down, someone else moves it and steals the seat.  I'm pissed and freaking out because for whatever reason I NEED TO SUCCEED AT A PAINTING CLASS FOR FUCK'S SAKE I JUST WANT A SPOT!

So the class is going on and I, a near-35-year-old-woman, am being picked on by junior high aged students because I have no where to sit, let alone paint.  Juila Child then shouts at me as I stand in the back of the room that I'm slacking.  "I DON'T HAVE ANYWHERE TO SIT, JULIA!" I shout then grab my things and storm out of the room.

Going back down the hall to wherever it was I came from Bob Ross's class, the whole area gets creepy dark and I come to a doorway with a super-bolted and locked door.  Some lady opens it and comes to me, "Someone was asking to meet the weird kids we keep in the tower, I don't know if it was you so I unlocked the door so you can meet them."

By "weird kids" she meant teenagers who are monster zombies and immediately start pouring through the door to attack me.  Then I wake up.

FROM A DREAM WITHIN A FUCKING DREAM.  Apparently I've fallen asleep at some bus terminal with my husband, his sister, my BFF, his roommate, and like 30 other people.  I tell them about my Bob Ross and Julia Child hissy fit, which also involved Katya from RuPaul's Drag Race somewhere, and they all start laughing, except for my sister-in-law who asks if I have sold any of her Avon shit yet.  Then I actually woke up.


Fun facts:
- I and my cousins are originally from Chicago and one of them does work for the Bears.
- My husband's uncle was in fact in the hospital and has since passed after having this dream (his mom was already at his bedside with family, so it was already in process).  We got the call at 6am so this dream happened after that call.
- We stream The Joy of Painting before we fall asleep if nothing else is on TV/we can't fall asleep.
- I already have a shit ton of dreams where I'm back in my middle school for whatever reason.
- I'm a big, fat, scardy cat and do not watch any of the zombie shows or movies.

What the actual fuck, subconscious.

"Life" seems like a pretty general thing to work on.

I'm aware I choose a pretty broad thing to work on.

But it's what I want to work on.

It's what I AM working on.

I operate my own home bakery, so I sell my goodies (breads, scones, cookies, cakes, etc.) at farmers markets.  Between April and October, I do 4 to 5 a week.  "Off season" maybe 2 or 3, of course making a fraction of what I do in the spring and summer.  I just recently celebrated my 2nd anniversary of starting my business.

I met the most awesome person on the planet on World of Warcraft and married him almost 2 years ago.  We went to Blizzcon for our honeymoon.  We're Game of Thrones, Stars Wars, Firefly, Pokemon, and DBZ nerd (with respect towards Star Trek, too).  We love screwing around on WoW or Age of Empires via Steam at our desks which are 4 feet apart to spend time together.  It's because of him I was able to start my business.

I have the most glorious family.  My mother popped me out at 17 and raised me herself.  My grandfather beat compulsive gambling and alcoholism and is, and always has been, hilarious and loving.  My great-grandmother is my other mother, raising me and caring for me at the times when Mom was working 3 jobs to keep us afloat.  I named my business after her and started with her recipes.  She just left us last Autumn at 97 years old.

I was born and raised in Chicago and moved to farming-community Michigan (where my husband was born and raised) about 4 years ago.

I battle an anxiety disorder (diagnosed 2008) and depression (diagnosed 2011) daily.

So yeah, that's Life.  You can imagine how I'm going to work on it.