A different kind of enabling

Hub is my enabler. Ya, he is mine. This is a new realization for me. I can't help but wonder.... what the hell took me so long to see this???

Since losing my job back in early 2008, I have had sporadic bouts of employment. The first was a pretty decent opportunity in a physician's office. I worked there for about two weeks. I spent nearly every day of those two weeks complaining about how poorly I was being trained for my position and how I felt like I wasn't catching on the way I should. After two weeks of my complaining, Hub said, "if you don't like it there, just quit". I did.

I started the next job almost immediately. It was an early morning shift at a fast food place. I had actually been offered this one just days before being offered the office job and backed out when I got the better offer. After quitting the first job, I talked to the manager at the fast food place, fed him a line of bullshit as to why I didn't come to work for him. He bought it. (I am an extremely talented bullshit artist. So much so that it is really not in my best interest to use this particular talent.) It seemed logical that working in fast food would not require a lot of deep thought or need for real knowledge and therefor would be relatively stress free. I didn't feel inadequate like I did at the office job. It was indeed fairly simple. Take orders, run the register, bag some food, wipe counters, blah blah blah. It was in fact very, very blah. I would find myself completely done with all my work and still had hours left to go on my shift. That place was shiny clean from top to bottom, which is saying a lot considering how it looked on my first day, after about a month of working there. I told Hub repeatedly how bored I was there. He told me, "No shit! I knew you would hate it. If you don't like it there, just quit". I did.

It was several months later when a very good opportunity came along. Very good. Great pay, better insurance, opportunity to advance, and it was in the field I had worked for several years before getting the axe. It was the perfect job. What was even better was that I hadn't even applied for the job. They came looking for me based on a resume I had posted at one of those online job sites. I was the perfect candidate for the position. I went through all the training and background clearances. I began searching for daycare for Tot. I interviewed two different places. One was a daycare center and it was pretty pricey. The other was a home daycare. I spent an hour in this woman's home and witnessed her kid getting away with attempted murder while another little boy was yelled at if he even thought about breathing. Not a place I was going to take my son. I began to worry about finding the right place to take Tot. I'd be worried no matter what, but with the added effects of an autism spectrum disorder I was terrified of leaving him the hands of a stranger. I shared those concerns with Hub. He told me, "I'd rather you were home with him anyway. Just call and tell them you can't take the job". I did.

The latest job was this past summer. I referred to it as "the monkey job", as in a monkey could do it. (I mentioned it back in this post) Of course I wasn't happy about that fact, but I was willing to deal with it. I hated my supervisor. Hate is a strong word, but I'm standing by it in this case. The people I worked with were unfriendly. I was miserable. Naturally, I shared all this with Hub. He told me, "If you hate it so much, just quit". I didn't. Not right away at least. I stuck it out for a little while. There were days I wanted to just keep on driving and never turn back rather than go to work, but I went. There were days I was literally on the verge of tears, but I continued to go back. Then one day, I just couldn't do it anymore. Hub had told me repeatedly that I should quit if I was so unhappy there, so I knew he'd back up my decision. I left and never went back.

I have so much more to say about the monkey job, but that is a post for another day. This one is about my enabler. My husband who for two years now has enabled my habit of quitting jobs. There are so many mental and emotional factors that go into "why" I can't hold a job. I need strong support to work through them and beat them. I need encouragement to keep a job, to hang in there until I get past the mental blocks that make me want to run. Instead, I get the enabling statement of "just quit".

I have gone back and forth on how I viewed Hub's willingness to have me quit jobs. I have thought of it as him being very supportive of me and my feelings. I have thought of it as his way of keeping me financially unable to ever leave him. I think though, that this time I really hit on what it really is. He is my enabler. Here we are yet again, co-existing in co-dependency.

The Promise

Jenny Matlock threw another curve ball at us this week for Saturday Centus. This week's assignment: Take any other SC stories (yours or someone elses) and using ANOTHER 100 WORDS...tell us the "rest of the story".

I have only been doing this for a few weeks, so I didn't have a lot to choose from within my own work. I didn't really need choices though, because there was one story that I knew I wasn't done with. It was easy to choose Kitschy as the story I would build on. I have added another 100 words (after some serious editing and cutting) and I still don't feel like I'm done with this one. So don't be surprised if you see this one continue at a later date.

My original story is first in italics, followed by the rest of more of the story.


Sophie loves to drag me along to estate sales. She calls it searching for treasures and loves to make comments about how "kitschy" or "retro" things are. Personally, I find estate sales depressing. The whole reason to have one is because someone has died. It's sad to me to see a person's whole life spread out on tables with price tags. Every single item had a story, a memory attached that will now forever be lost.
Last week Sophie met with an estate sale agent. I listened to them from my perch on the top step and didn't know whether to laugh or to cry...
as she made arrangements for our mother's estate sale, my sister finally understood me.

I ran my hand along the faded patches on the wall where Mom's paintings once hung. As a little girl I would stare at them, imagining myself playing in the streams of that beautiful Scottish glen. I watched as Sophie shook her head. "I just think maybe I should hold on to these," she said. "It was Mom's dream to visit Scotland. Dad bought her these paintings as a promise...”

I hurried to her side. “We can’t keep it all Sophie. You have to let some things go.”

Tears streaming from her eyes she sobbed, “She never made it there.”

Fed to the wolves

It was the first day of school and I was dropping Sonny off at the middle school. As we approached the drop off zone I noticed several tiny kids walking toward the school. It was some of the new batch of sixth graders. Their sixth grade status was obvious due to both their tiny stature and the nervous look in their eyes. They looked so cute that I couldn’t help but utter, “aaaaaaaaaaw! Look at the little sixth graders! They are so adorable.” I am a mom after all and the sight of those tiny sixers brings back memories of the days when my own kids, now giant teenagers, were tiny little things off to their first day of middle school.

Just as Sonny was hurrying out of the car, I spotted the cutest little sixer yet. He was even tinier than the others with a mop of white blonde hair on his head and a backpack nearly as big as he was on his back. I was opening my mouth to utter another “aaaaaaaaaaaaw” when I spotted something else about this little guy. My aaaw suddenly turned into a “noooooooooooooo”. The poor little guy was wearing shorts, and he had on gym socks! How could he not know? What about his mother? Where was she when he got dressed this morning? Does she work early? Is she not there when he gets ready for school? Surely she must not be, because what mother would let her child go to middle school wearing shorts and long white socks? It is the equivalent of dressing him in a sheep costume and setting him in the middle of a pack of wolves. He’ll be eaten alive!

I had an overwhelming urge to burst out of my car, run over to him and pull his socks down around his ankles. That was, of course, overpowered by my desire to not be arrested for accosting an eleven year old. I had no choice but to simply drive away.

Rest in peace adorable, little sixth grader. Rest in peace.

the climb

Co-dependency. I refuse to let it define me. To do so would be to let it control my life. I've been at that point before and for too long. My life is so much more than that. I am more than just the wife of a sex addict. My past is more than those moments of heartbreaking betrayal. There is joy there as well. Honestly, there are more moments of spectacular blessing than there are of gut wrenching pain. Somehow, I have found it within me to make the choice to look back and focus on the good. While I will never forget the pains of the past, I can now look at those moments and say, "screw you! you have not damaged me. you've only made me stronger, wiser and more capable."

I was going to say that I am a new me, but that is not true. I am the same me I always was, just a better version of me.

My life may still be on the rocks, but it's not at rock bottom anymore. I truly feel like I am finally making the climb.

Hang in there Baby

I took Tot to the dentist this morning. His appointment was at 8am which meant I had to wake up at an ungodly hour to get him there. We arrived a few minutes before 8 and had to wait to check in because they were having their morning staff meeting. 8:05 and we were still waiting. Why schedule 8am appointments if you're not going to even check people in before then? Make them 8:15 appointments and actually get going on time! I could have slept an extra fifteen minutes for cripes sake!

Now that all that is out of the way I can get to my actual point...

I remember going to the dentist as a kid. A lot! I was genetically doomed to bad teeth. Add to that a terrible Lik-m-aid habit and a tendency not to brush and it equals fillings in nearly every tooth. All those cavities meant plenty of hours in the chair. During those torturous visits to the dentist, reclined back in the chair of tortures I had one thing to amuse me.

After about the 8th filling or so, you could say this particular bit of amusement lost it's ability to amuse. Sure he's cute and all, but after awhile I started to imagine him falling. Sometimes he would plummet to his death. Other times he would leap ferociously down upon me and cause my death. When I was feeling especially fed up with the whole dental care thing, he would leap down and attack the dentist. He may look like a sweet ball of fluff, but in my imagination he was a kitty ninja!

Times have changed at the dentist office. No stupid "hang in there baby" posters for kids these days. Nope! Tot got to lay back and watch the Disney Channel on a tv in the ceiling. The kid next to him? He was playing Xbox on his screen in the sky. Five 19" screens installed in the ceiling with cable tv, dvd, and video game systems installed. All of it controlled from the computers that the hygienists used to pull up dental records, xrays and most likely contact NASA if they felt the urge.

Somehow I think I was better off with the ninja kitty.

Welcome Back Hope

For years now I have taken an agnostic view on the world, life, and creation. I didn't really believe and yet a part of me was afraid not to believe. I couldn't see how such a thing could really be possible. Life felt like such drudgery. How could there be purpose? Why would someone have created a place and beings that were all so random? None of it made sense. It was all too illogical for me. And yet....
I wanted to believe.
It was a huge realization for me. I wasn't just afraid not to believe. I actually wanted to believe.

A few months ago I felt that want growing. I began to seek out answers to my questions. I wanted to not just ask "how?" and "why?", I wanted to know the answers.

My search for answers led me to a church. Now, this was an extremely important step in my journey toward belief. The wrong church (many of which I have attended in my lifetime) would have pushed me right back into that agnostic view in which I'd felt comfortable for so long. Or worse, it could have pushed me beyond agnostic and right into the depths of atheism. It was a matter of pure grace that I landed in the back row of the particular church that I did. A place where their very purpose is to reach those who are lost, those who are searching and those who have nearly lost all hope. A place for people like me.

I have never been one to spout religion to those around me. One aspect of organized religion that I truly hate is the act of pushing that religion onto others. My strong feelings on that mean that I will not spout religion here on this public forum, nor will I push for others to believe simply because I do. I bring all this up here today simply because it is important to my climb from the rocks.

Today I heard a message that helped me to take another step up in that climb. I wish to share it here as a way to journal that step.

I don't understand myself at all, for I really want to do what is right, but I don't do it. Instead, I do the very thing I hate. I know perfectly well that what I am doing is wrong, and my bad conscience shows that I agree that the law is good. But I can't help myself... what a miserable person I am! Who will free me?
Romans 7:15, 24

I found this message powerful in two ways. One, I have felt that way myself. And two, because I know this is how Hub feels. He has said to me almost this exact message. Not the same words of course, but indeed the same thoughts and feelings that it expresses. This is the very way his SA makes him feel.

There have been many times that I heard Hub saying the words, but I never really let the true feelings he was sharing sink in. I never allowed myself to view him as a tortured soul. I only ever looked at myself as the injured party to his weakness, to him allowing himself to do the things he did. What a miserable person he is. It is something he recognizes and I think that recognition is a sign that there is hope.

Hope is something I've not felt in a long time. It's good to welcome it back in our lives.

The Drive

This is entry #2 for me for Saturday Centus this week. It's a story that just had to be told. So why not do it in 100 words?


WHAT I DID OVER MY SUMMER VACATION

My fingers gripped the handle of the car door tight enough to turn my knuckles white. This was the most nerve wracking ride of my life. I realized I was holding my breath and had to remind myself to breath. In, out, In, out.... oh crap! DEEP BREATH IN! I wanted to close my eyes as we whipped around the corner at way too fast of a speed, but that was not an option. I had to keep my cool, had to remain calm, had to remain in control of the situation. I had to teach my daughter to drive.

summer vacation

Jenny Matlock had a little something different planned for this week's Saturday Centus. "Your story must be written in first person AND must be exactly 100 words long. It can be fact or fiction.
So...
Exactly 100 words, first person, fact or fiction...What I did over my Summer Vacation. AND What I did over my Summer Vacation is the title of your essay not to be included in the 100 words! "

WHAT I DID OVER MY SUMMER VACATION

Tiny pebbles between my toes,
a precarious balancing act fighting to stay afloat on my two dollar raft,
watching a happy five year old throw rocks at the shore,
listening to the laughter of teenagers actually enjoying time with the family,
seeing my husband fall off his raft and get up laughing,
water splashing back and forth in a classic water battle,
sand castles formed with care being smashed by plastic bulldozers,
the warm summer sun shining down upon five happy people resting on towels in the sand,
a heavenly glimpse at the way life was and should always be.

I LOVE this week's prompt so much I think I will do another version of it later. I had another idea on what to write and I can't resist the urge. I'll update later!

The Cup of Cappuccino

It's amazing how one little event can take what was promising to be a pretty good day and make it total shit. I had such a day this past week.

Dot and Sonny went to visit their dad for a couple of days after being home for two straight weeks, which with two teenager can feel like two years. Two years of constantly bored, constantly hungry, picking on each other, whiny, bossy, bitchy torture.

Hub and I were getting along amazingly well, actually speaking to each other rather than quietly passing each other by. We even made plans to go out to dinner.

Even more amazing is the fact that it was nearly 4pm and Tot had been meltdown free and well behaved. Yes, it was a good day. Until...

I was standing in the middle of the living room when I noticed the cappuccino cup. It had started off that morning as mine. Hub had gone to get himself a coffee and for some reason I asked him to pick me up a cappuccino. This is not something I would normally drink in the middle of August with temperatures in the hundreds everyday. And yet, I asked for one. I drank about half of it, truly enjoy the deliciousness, before I began to pool with sweat and gave it up. I offered the remainder to Dot who accepted it, took a few swallows and then left the rest behind as she headed out the door to go to her father's.

Now, here I was, staring at the cup of cappuccino sitting on the corner of Tot's little table. A table meant for snack time, coloring and building blocks. Not a table meant to be a place for people to set drinks of any kind. At the moment my eyes fell upon that cup I knew, I knew, it was going to spill. Sure enough, not a second had passed by after having that thought when I saw Tot was not more than a foot from the table. I managed to get the word, "Don't...." out before it happened.

Tot swung his blanket, his trusty friend who never leaves his side, in the air like a lasso. Then blanket, that little blue thorn in my side, whipped out and knocked the cup of cappaccino off the table. It wasn't enough that it spilled though. Oh no! It had to land directly on the laptop which had been tucked away between the table and the couch. It didn't just land on the computer though. Of course it didn't. It landed in such a way that the opening in the lid was now pouring directly into the air vents on the back of the laptop. It didn't matter that I reacted with lightening speed and dashed across the room faster than Superman could have, I still wasn't quick enough. Kharma had landed that cup in that exact position to pour out the cappuccino in a steady stream, in exactly the right spot on the laptop to do the most damage. And it all happened in about 4.2 seconds.

The computer was fried.
But it wasn't our computer.
No. Our computer was in the shop being repaired.
This was the loaner computer.

We were now faced with not only having to pay for the repairs on our own computer, but having to pay for the loaner computer as well.

Hub and I getting along amazingly well? The two of us actually talking to each other? That stopped realy quick. Right after I asked the question, "do you ever feel like you're cursed?" and he answered with "every day of my life". Ya, that will put a halt on the conversation. I mean, how do you respond to that? "Thanks honey. Life with you is one big freaking curse too."

That dinner we had planned? That sure as hell didn't happen.

Kitschy

This is my 2nd attempt at Saturday Centus. I will admit that last week's prompt was much easier for me. There was really only one direction I felt it could go. This week's prompt could have gone a hundred different directions and I wasn't sure which path to take. It finally became totally clear to me what I wanted to do with it, but then struggled with keeping it under 100 words. I'd love to take this further (as it really is a subject i have strong feelings on, although the story here is fiction), perhaps another time.

Saturday Centus is a themed writing meme wher you are given a "prompt". It must be 100 words or less, not including the "prompt" words. The prompt words can be used in any place within your story but must be left intact. You cannot split the prompt.

the prompt is in color
here is my entry. i call it KITSCHY

Sophie loves to drag me along to estate sales. She calls it searching for treasures and loves to make comments about how "kitschy" or "retro" things are. Personally, I find estate sales depressing. The whole reason to have one is because someone has died. It's sad to me to see a person's whole life spread out on tables with price tags. Every single item had a story, a memory attached that will now forever be lost.
Last week Sophie met with an estate sale agent. I listened to them from my perch on the top step and didn't know whether to laugh or to cry...
as she made arrangements for our mother's estate sale, my sister finally understood me.

caught

I went to bed early last night because I needed to be up early this morning. Hub had worked late so he stayed up for a couple more hours, saying he needed to eat and wind down.

When I turned on the computer this morning I clicked the little star up in the corner. You know, the one that leads to favorites, links and history? I keep it on favorites because that's my shortcut to my daily sites. This morning when I clicked it, there was the history showing instead of favorites. That is a sure sign that Hub did something he shouldn't have on the computer after I went to bed. He will always go into the history to erase it, trying to hide whatever sites he was on. Leaving it on history is kind of a rookie mistake. One that he actually knows will get his ass caught. So now I am left to wonder if he was hoping to get caught. If so.... why?

comments

Just a quick note to say I appreciate everyone's heartfelt comments on my posts. It helps to know people care and that my words can make people feel something. :) Many of them have given me much to think about as well.
I have much to share from a soul wearying day but just wanted to say a quick thanks and also to let people know that I am indeed getting your comments. Awhile back I started getting weird comments in what looks like Chinese or something. Then I would get weird fortune cookie type sayings on posts. It all kinda weirded me out so I have set the comments on moderation so that I can read them first and choose whether or not to publish them on the blog.

Thanks everyone for visiting me here at rock bottom.

where am i?

Marriage has given way to more of a partnership in parenthood. That is where I am. Where we are. We co-exist in co-dependency. Somehow it fits and makes a weird sort of sense right now.

Are we in recovery? No. At least not formally. Neither of us is in that place. I think I'm closer to it than Hub is, but I'm still not quite there.

Is everything wonderful? Of course not, but I can look at Hub and not want to push him in front of a bus. That's progress.

He hasn't acted out since returning from our separation. I am not delusional enough to think he never will again, but again... it's progress.

Life is not how I envisioned it would be. And yet, I am in a place of accepetance of all this.

trash day

I'd had enough. I just needed to get out of the house, now. Slamming the car door, I noticed in the mirror that the garbage can was at the end of the drive. Trash day. How fitting that title was for a day like today. Overrun with anger and the need to flee, I attempted to back around the can. Turns out it's true... objects in the rearview mirror are closer than they appear, and apparantly they are a little the right as well. I sat staring at the refuse scattered on the lawn, and in it, saw my life.


This is my first attempt at joining in on Saturday Centus. A themed writing meme that must be 100 words or less, and include the "prompt" words. Therefor the preceeding was fiction, with a splash of truth. :) The prompt words are in color.

i don't want to play with you anymore!

I've learned a valuable lesson in the past few months. It's a blogging lesson, so if you're new to the blogging world you'll want to pay close attention.

I follow alot of blogs. Not through this blog account, but through a different one where I don't try to hide my face or identity. No, it's the "let's put on a shiny happy face and pretend life is grand" blog account. I have a real love of reading blogs through a reader or a feed. I don't want to have to actually go visit people's blogs. Oh, the horror of the idea! Kidding. mostly! Of course what is easier than adding a blog to my reader feed is to just click that little follow button right there on the blog. You'll see one right here on this blog, over there to the left, unless of course you are reading this in a reader feed. Then you don't see how cool my blog actually looks and you're missing out on all it's true glory. Hey, just cause I don't want to have to go to people's actual blogs doesn't mean you shouldn't come to mine. You should. Definitely!

The valuable lesson I have learned involves that little follow button. Once you've clicked it, then the blog owner knows you're following. Your little avatar is right there on their blog, showing them that you care about what they are writing, that you are tuned in. But what happens if you decide you don't really care about what they are writing? What happens if you no longer want to be tuned in? Sure you can go back to the blog and stop following. But then your little avatar thing goes away and they know you stopped following them. I just can't do that. It reminds me too much of the playground in elementary school when one kid goes up to another and says "I don't want to play with you. You aren't my friend anymore." Ouch!

So now I am "trapped" into following a blog that irritates me. (this is the other account we are talking about now) That blog started off good. This person's child has autism which I related to since Tot does as well. When I'd first found this blog it was all about the struggles of dealing with many of the behaviors that come with it. Now, however, the blog has turned into this gushing fountain of bragging about the kid. Oh great! the kid is only three and is reading the entire Little House series of books all by herself. Good for her. Tot can spell cat now. Wow! she's mastered addition and subtraction as well. How terrific. Tot can count to thirteen. She's diving off the high dive and swimming the length of the pool in one breath? Well ain't that swell! Tot actually released his death grip from around my neck in the pool the other day.

Don't get me wrong. I am happy for the kid that she can do all the things she can. But I don't want to hear about it every stinking day. It's hard enough getting through each day with the struggles we have with Tot. I can't take a daily "rub it your face" post about how this kid who started out with the same issues has excelled so far while Tot still struggles with things that should come natural for a kid. The fact is, I just don't relate to this person and their situation anymore. But it comes down to the reality that it makes me, once again, bitter and petty that I look at their happiness and think "why the hell can't that be us". So taking my little avatar off that blog would feel like a public acknowledgement of that fact.

Of course if you're reading this then you should totally click on the follow me button here on this blog. I'll only check like ever other day to make sure you're avatar is still there.

farewell to thee

It was with great excitement and expectation that I planted my little garden. It wasn't much. Just a few of my favorite vegetables. A row of carrots, another of lettuce, a few carefully sculpted mounds planted with zucchini, yellow squash and cucumber seeds. It was an experiment as I had never attempted to plant a garden before. I knew that with my track record of killing house plants that there was a high chance of failure for this little veggie patch. And yet, I had high hopes.

Within a couple weeks of planting the seeds, everything looked good. Tiny plants were beginning to sprout from the ground. I was filled with an overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment at the site of those little bits of green life.

The lettuce was the first casualty. Just a couple of weeks after showing those first signs of life, my lettuce just sort of vanished. It was there one day, and the next it was gone. Well, to be honest I am not entirely sure it was the next day. It may have been a couple of days. Or perhaps three. I was doing really good at watering the garden, but then it rained for several days and I didn't need to water it. Then the rain stopped for a few days and I had gotten so accustomed to not watering that I kind of forgot to do it. Somehow the lettuce mysteriously disappeared after that.

The next veggie to fall victim was the carrots. After the sad loss of my lettuce, I made sure to water the garden every single day. I watered it a lot. I mean there were days that I left the sprinkler on for hours. Those carrots were so well watered that they even had a standing pool of water in their row of the garden. My kids didn't get to swim as often as my carrots did. And yet, somehow, the carrots mysteriously disappeared as well.

Now it was just the zucchini, squash and cucumbers left in my little garden. They had survived the natural disaster knows as a drought and thanks to those hills they were planted in, they survived the monsoon as well. I continued to water each day and for only about thirty minutes to an hour, depending on how badly the sun was blazing down. The remainder of my veggies were doing quite well. Then one day, I went outside and the zucchini was laying down totally mangled. They had fallen victim to a phenomenon known as rodents. I believe the rodents were of the bunny kind.

I really had meant to put up a nice fence around my little garden, but then on the way to the store I was passing Sonic and since it was happy hour I couldn't just drive by without stopping for half priced drinks. I think there might actually be a law against that, and in the words of the great Bill Murray, "it's a federal law too, it's not just a state thing". Of course once in the Sonic parking lot it seemed a shame to simply order drinks. I mean they do have fantastic onion rings, but you can't eat onion rings without getting an extra long cheese coney! And well, I couldn't just order food for myself when I had the kids in the car. I mean, I could have but it would have been kinda cruel and might have caused a mutiny. So two extra long cheese coneys, an order of onion rings, an order of popcorn chicken, a cheeseburger, two orders of tots and four half priced drinks later... I suddenly realized I no longer had the money to buy the fence for the garden. I figured it would be ok though. I had never actually seen bunnies in our yard before. Turns out that once you plant tasty veggies, the bunnies feel sort of invited in for a feast. Who knew?

After the death of the poor zucchini, I was much more vigilant and put up some borders around the garden and continued to faithfully water, but not too much, the garden. The squash and cucumbers were both bursting with flowers. It was a good sign. They were doing well and would soon be bearing delicious veggies.

Everything looked so good and was so close to actually producing real food that I kinda thought they would be okay for just a couple of days while we went out of town. I mean, I did consider the idea of asking the neighbor to water them while we were gone. I know she would have. It was only two days and I watered really well before we left and it was supposed to rain. It was only two little days. How was I supposed to know they would be the two hottest days of the year??? So we arrived home to another veggie death. Guess even the healthiest of veggie plants can't survive 110 degree weather with no rain.

I gave that little garden all I had. At least I did on the days I remembered to water it. And on the days I didn't forget that the sprinkler was on until six hours later. And when I belatedly put up a border to keep out the wildlife. And when I was actually home to take care of them and wasn't relying on the weather man to actually be right for once.

I am really sad that my veggies didn't make it! I had such high hopes.

Well, at least I have Sonic happy hour.