MyBrokenRoseUnfold

I think I might possbly need a brain checkup. Although it is only two months (less than, actually) after my dad died, I am happier than I've been in a really freaking long time. I'm at first-year-of-college levels of not-suck. I'm seriously considering going back to school, have three webcomics in the planning stages, and feel like things are headed in the right direction for once in my life. I'm not even worried about Mom maybe having to sell our house to move for her new job (she thinks the job's an if, I think it's a when).

'Course, knowing she'll let me come with if I want and that I have no end of relatives that won't mind if I crash with them for a couple of months while settle in to whatever school and/or job I find (most of whom would be more than happy to pay my travel expenses so I can come live with them). Since said relatives live literally coast to coast (and some even on the other side of the Pond), I'm not overly worried about much of anything. And that's not counting the friends and former professors who'd be happy to finagle me an interview or a couple of references.

I dunno what I was freaking out about earlier this week.

I wonder if anybody know a good dentist? I should get a whitening treatment and get rid of these wisdom teeth while I have the time to do it...

I honestly have no idea. I mean, I took a nap, but it wasn't that long. Maybe it's the heat. Ugh. This is not May weather. This is late June weather. I have my fan aimed straight at me and I'm wearing a single layer (if you're not counting undies; I'm not). Oh, well. It's not like I have work scheduled for tomorrow. (Watch, I'll get a call at 5:30 a.m.: "Waahh! Somebody had a baby early! Can you come fill in for them? Please?!!" Sure, dude. Whatever. I need the money, anyway. I'm not gonna scoff at ten bucks an hour to teach lessons I don't have to plan. As for sleep, well, that's what Pepsi and afternoon naps are for. Wouldn't be the first time I've worked after a round of insomnia.)

I'd do some epically complicated digital art piece, but I'm too lazy right now and have no tablet, anyway. I'm just gonna go back to watching that Youtube series, and then see if I can crash in about 20 minutes or so.

Unfortunate that these are sometimes actually necessary. I'd be in bed by now, but Mom just got Dad up from his nap to do his "evening" pills. So I'm gonna be watching a crapton of Power Rangers and uploading stuff to kill time while I wait for him to go back to bed, given that a) he usually hollers for half an hour after he's put to bed and b) he has spaghetti legs every other night, so Mom needs help getting him to bed. C'mon guys, I have work in the morning. T_T Give me a break.

Oh well, enjoy the random art dump.

Well, I was going to rant about something, but I don't really care enough anymore. Ha!

I am kind of annoyed that the bag with my lunch called the things in it "chicken strips" and even had a picture of breaded ones on the outside ("serving suggestion"), but it was just chicken pieces that weren't even cut into proper strip shapes. I call this false advertising.

No loss, however, since I turned them into buffalo wraps. There's a bunch more in the fridge (my mother cooked up the whole thing for me while I was at church--you rock, Mom), which is a plus since I hate having to cook my meat at every meal. Sometimes I don't have half an hour to thaw and cook chicken or whatever. Sometimes all I have is half an hour to get and eat my lunch. Ugh.

Whatever, dude. I have a job now, though, which is why you haven't seen hide nor hair of me for...how many months now? I dunno. I was putting in an hour before my job just to get there and get set up (I work in a school), then working for seven or eight hours with squirrelly kids ranging from three years old to eighteen or nineteen, sometimes all of the above, depending on the day. Then I had to write up notes and dish out detentions for the next day (fortunately, detentions are not often necessary), clean up, run errands, take over taking care of my dad so Mom could run errands and/or have something resembling a life for an hour or so, take care of any lingering issues with the dog, and make sure my chores get done so we can all stand to live here.

I think I like being called Rosie.

(And this is why I titled this post "Random Rosie is random.")

Gads, my ADD is all over the place today. It can't even settle on one thing to be distracted by or distracted from. Geez. Good thing I'm medicated now.

Speaking of lunch, I've discovered it was the ham I was eating on a regular basis that made me feel like poo so often. More ham + less sugar = icky feeling Rosie. I swapped out the ham for carbs and turkey and just added in one more veggie a day, and I feel fabulous body-wise even when I'm tired.

I also discovered that I gain weight when I swap out candy bars for protein bars. Whee. I changed to real-sugar and no-sweetener pop and dark chocolate/milk chocolate instead, and I started losing weight. I'm talking like a pound or two a week, and that's with all of the muscle I'm putting on. If this keeps up, I'm going to need new clothes by the time next school year hits. That's a nice problem to have. <3

A shoutout to all the moms out there. Y'all are awesome. My mom's the one who taught me how to identify "inflammatory" foods, by the way--the ones that are technically good for you but not good for you and jank with your body chemistry. She's never ragged on me about my "bad" food choices, either, even though she's a nutritionist. She was the one who always got Dad off my back about it (the hypocrite who ate snack cakes for breakfast) and taught me how to cook and watch what I eat and not worry so much about how much I eat. She just made sure I had milk with my cookies and carrots with my peanut butter, and it stuck. Thank you, Mom. You were always the reason that I could out-armwrestle my jock little brother, and take him on in our playfights any day, even though he had a red belt and I was just a part-time cheeleader. You made my inferiority complex bearable, encouraged my dreams of being a college football player (I did--played powderpuff [my school had no tackle football team] until I janked my ankle the fifth time and changed to cheerleader; we almost won the tournament one year, too), taught me that fat girls are pretty too, let me see you wrestle with your doubts about God, Dad, and life, told me there's nothing wrong with sex or virgins liking sex--at least in and of themselves, said it's okay if I want to marry a hermaphrodite (I kinda do; I'm omni/bi-ish, but I don't really like "traditional" guys that way and I'll probably never marry a girl--I find the idea a bit icky), showed me it's okay to be wrong (and say so) and okay to fight with people you love, and gave me some of your confidence when there wasn't any to be had. You rock.

I love my mommy. Hearts to all.

Ever have one of those things where you really want to talk to somebody, but they've made it clear they're not in a place where they can talk to you? Not cuz they're mad at you or what have you.. They're just in a mood where they need to be on their own. Miss being able to talk to my mom about anything any time. . .