Yesterday I posted a series of photos on my Snapchat story. Throughout the day I’d take a picture of every different floor covering I stepped on.

Why? Well, it originally started out as a bit of a joke after a friend posted nothing but pictures of trees for days. There was one day in early October I received 16ish snaps within about 5 hours, all trees. It got to the point where it was like I was looking at the same thing over and over and mentioned to my niece that it was about as exciting as staring at the floor. That’s when the idea for The Day of Floors was born.

When I started I honestly thought that there would be under 10 pictures in the story. By the end of the day, there were over 20 and I know I forgot to take a few pictures when I left work. There was also a handful of areas I didn’t walk through yesterday… the family restaurant, steakhouse, club, sports bar, old hotel tour or any of the hotel rooms. I know each of those areas has at least 1 different floor covering, making a minimum of 30 different floor coverings where I work (that I’m aware of). I realize this is an uninteresting point for some but it’s fascinating to me.

What started out as a silly joke ended up being sort of fun. I do sort of wonder what surveillance thought, though. I’d walk into an area, do a little happy dance if the floor was different from any of the others I saw during the day then snap a picture of my feet and the floor.

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Unfocused Friday. October Edition.

I want a moped. The problem is that I really don’t have anywhere that I could drive it.

My favorite bartender at work is preggers. She’s due Thanksgiving Day. I’m making her bebe these cute little booties. Aren’t they the best?


I’m pretty much in love with my new TiVo.

I finally broke down and ordered shoes. I can’t wait to get them. I still need more clothes, winter boots, and a winter jacket.

Scraping the stupid frost off my windshield this morning reminded me that I also need to replace my scraper and snow brush.

I need to find a place local to me that repairs shoes. Two pairs of my favorite boots have broken heel tips, one pair being the ones I have on right now.

I watched so much scary stuff last weekend that I ended up clenching my jaw so hard in my sleep on Sunday night that I woke up with a swollen face and my jaw hurt for 3 days.

I’m super excited for Christmas this year. I have no idea why. It’s been a good 3-4 years since my excitement was at this level. I already started making Christmas gifts. And I might have watched a Christmas show. Or three.

I know it’s not even Halloween yet.

No, I’m not getting a tree as big as I did last year. It was awesome, but it was a bear to take out of my apartment alone.

Yes, I still have to decorate for Fall but I’m THAT excited for Christmas that I’m already thinking about how I’m going to decorate.

Speaking of doing things alone. I found a super cool tv stand with a fireplace at Walmart. I want to buy it, but I have no idea how I’ll get it to my apartment, let alone all the way up there. I think it might involve taking all the pieces out of the box and hauling them up bit by bit.

I need my super talented sister and brother to make a few simple things for me, but I’m afraid to ask. (hint, hint)

I know so many pregnant women right now that I find myself looking at baby & maternity stuff a lot so I can show them cute stuff. Maternity Halloween costumes are the best!

I’m going to my first regular season Packers game on Sunday. I. Can’t. Wait.

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The Monster.

Last month during my hunt for somewhere to live closer to work I wondered if I was being too cautious about not wanting to live in town because of my exes. I know I can be overdramatic about things. I wanted to move so badly that I put my concerns aside and called on a few places.

I’m so thankful none of them worked out.

Yesterday during lunch I found out ExH1 followed someone to a bar, got into a fight with them and attempted to pull a gun on the person.

Excuse my language here.

What. the actual. fuck.

ExH1 is a drug addict who has a recent history of car theft (while high, claims/thought he was allowed to borrow) and breaking into houses (his sister’s) to steal pills (his niece’s ADHD meds). I get that he was close/related to the people he committed the other crimes against but still. How is he not doing any sort of time? Has he not been sentenced yet? Have the charges been dropped? Where the sentences that soft?

The possibility of me ever moving into town dropped to zero. It’s highly unlikely I’ll even go out with friends there. The thought even crossed my mind not to move closer to work at all. Screw thinking that I’m being too cautious. Yes, I realize not moving is extreme. Yes, we’ve been divorced for nearly 15 years. But who would have thought he would have contacted me & my family and asked out my sister after 12-13 of those years? Who would have thought I would have had to still deal with him at all just 9 months ago? I’m not taking any chances.

I get that in the short time he was clean that he was a nice guy and a lot of people loved him. But what I don’t get how people can still label him as a “good guy” and still defend him after everything he’s done. How can they not see that after at least 30 years of struggling with various forms addiction (and having a mother that’s been an addict since she was a teen) that the monster isn’t going to give up with what appears to be one hell of a nasty fight? I’m not saying they should give up on him. Keep praying and pray hard. But I suppose the difference between being in a long-term relationship with him and him putting on a lovable front is that you see this isn’t something he stumbled on in the past few years. You know he it’s something that’s been with him most of his life, and it’s just getting worse.

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We are Living in a Material World and I am (not) a Material Girl.

Once upon a time I was an impulse shopper. If I wanted something, I bought it. If I felt like treating myself to a night out of town or going to an event, I’d do it without batting an eye. That version of me was around less than 2 years ago. That version of me seems so foreign.

Now I have to talk myself into buying things I need… things like shoes, clothes, fall & winter jackets and curtains. When it comes to something I don’t need, I have a multi-week internal debate so I can rationalize spending the extra money. If I do manage to talk myself into it, I feel guilty for the splurge.

Translation: I need and want stuff. I have the money to spend. I have too tight of a grip on my savings to do so.

Dear Santa,

No… I’m not writing another letter asking for a Wonder Woman Tutu. Eff that. I give up on asking Santa for that tutu year after year. I’ll make my own freakin’ tutu, dammit!


Today I came across a post from one of my favorite crafty bloggers. She randomly found a childhood letter she wrote to Santa that was published in a book. She recognized her handwriting, one of the items on the list and her name. How cool is that?!

It got me thinking… Would I recognize one of my letters to Santa? I know there’s no way I’d ever recognize my childhood handwriting. I recall some of the items I asked for but mostly because they remained the same from year to year. The thing that would make a letter stand out would be my name. The spelling of my first name is not the most common version. However, if I had to guess, I’d bet I signed my letters using “Kit-Kat” instead. I’m a little sad that I don’t remember.

What I do remember is the time I found my letter stuffed in the truck’s glove box because Mom’s drunk of a boyfriend at the time didn’t bother mailing it (or at least a better job at making sure I didn’t find it). THAT I remember. I bawled my poor little eyes out what seemed like forever.

I Splurged A Little.

After some work bonuses and other stuff, I had a nice increase to my income. I’ve debated on purchasing another TiVo for quite some time so I bought one last week. I rationalized that I’ll save money over Time Warner’s crap DVR service and I won’t have to deal with their not-so-user-friendly-UI cable box anymore (it’s so frustrating and slow that I stopped watching cable at my apartment). So, now that my brand new, beautiful TiVo shipped, I feel guilty for the splurge. I felt the same guilt when I bought my TV earlier this year. Both reduce frustration but watching my dollars go bye-bye makes me sad.

Now I just have to take a deep breath and go shopping for clothes, shoes/boots, jackets and curtains. If I don’t have too much of a stomach ache after that, maybe I’ll get some artwork to hang on the bare walls in my apartment.

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Best Birthday Gift Ever.

No more wishing.
No more wondering.

We’re back together.

I’m in the happy cloud that is expected from that sentence but it’s like a weight was lifted.

No more constantly explaining why I don’t want to date.
No more getting judged because I won’t date (and why).
No more confessions of feels from “friends” who just don’t get it.*

I can just… be.

*I love how it actually takes being in a relationship for that to stop. What is wrong with people? What part of “I love someone else” doesn’t sink in? It takes a lot of effort for me not to say, “If you cared about me as much as you’re telling me you do then have enough respect for me to shut the f**k up about it and every time you spew your feels I want to bash your face in because you’re a dick for putting me in this position… again.” /endrant

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