Disjointed and rambling

There are so many things I think of to post about when I am having a cigarette break. I can think so clearly when I smoke. I write whole letters to the editor, essays, posts and etc... while I am slowly puffing away. It's very very hard for me to write about anything unless I'm smoking or inspired. I'm neither right now. Just frustrated.

I'm in a bad mood because I have to find a job. I hate working. It means I'm going to have to be underpaid for something I don't like or want to be doing. Then I will go home exhausted and grumpy. Only now I have a child, a job I love. What kind of mom will I be exhausted and grumpy from putting my attentions someplace that I didn't even want it to be? I know I'm just going to have to suck this one up, but not before I bitch about it. I want to raise my son. That's what I want my job to be till he is school age. This was so not in the plan. I know many people have to do this. I know many have it worse. I know many people are suffering in the middle east. I'm sorry for all that, but this is my little corner of the world and I am not concerned with them right now.

This weekend I spent 4 hours in a Catholic church. I was in an FSU short. They were shooting a funeral scene. I was playing the mother of 2 kids in their mid 20s. They were lovely children, one boy and one girl. I would be proud to be their real mom. However, having a 3 year old, I don't think much about the fact that I am old enough to be the mother of an adult. ugh! Then there is the nagging reminder of college tuition for Harley... Jeez.

Another oddity about this experience was that besides wanting to raid the holy water supply. (They keep it in a water cooler... like the kind at work! I swear! Only it's not chilled.) Anyway, besides that, the picture on the coffin was Henny Youngman with a violin. From a distance without my glasses on, he looked an aweful lot like my father. A violinist from the same generation. Henny's hair was slicked back, he was wearing a suit and holding a fiddle. I saw my father like this every night before work, and every time he played in the Ft. Laud Symphony Orchestra. Even more serendipitous is that we were listening to a cut off of one of dad's recordings on the way over. Harley occasionally makes us listen to it on repeat. We have not even had the CD playing in months, but on this day, yes. So, needless to say through out the filming of this little project I'm sort of keeping my ears perked for messages from dad! Yes, I'm spooky that way. Then to top it off, I ran into someone I used to know, and it was sort of annoying, but ok. We have ex friends in common. Nuff said. She got burned too.

No time to process all this because I have to get a job I don't want. I already have the job I want. I'm a mom and I love it and I'm pretty good at it. (most of the time)

As long as I'm complaining, the cat puked on my bed.

That's all I got today.
Happy Monday.