I made it...

Somehow, I survived.
Of course, having to survive my own stupid "schedule" isn't anything new.
It's just that each time I push it just a bit further and live, it's surprises me.

This time, I got up around 9-ish, Thursday morning (after having gone to bed around 2 or 3, I didn't pay attention) and didn't go to bed til last night around 8pm.
About 36 hours, give or take.

And, this time, it wasn't just "being awake alternating cleaning and sitting around".
Oh no.
This time it was "being awake cleaning, then working a double-shift-day at a new job, plus taking care of our horses".

I suppose everybody wants to know why I do this.

I wanna know how.

I think the "why" of it has something to do with my (hopefully) irrational fear of pulling a "Vivian/Elvis/Andy/Jesus" thing and dying too soon.
I think I wanna have every minute I can, lest I drop dead any time soon.

I'm just not sure how I do it.

I know how I don't do it... with any chemicals, short of coffee and smokes.
Maybe the occasional diet rootbeer.
Other than that though... no idea
And, Eric coments on it constantly.

AND and... it's just because I want to.
Can ya even imagine what I do if I felt it was necessary, like to have to, for some reason?
I could probably pull a week, if it was a bad enough reason.
But, let's not eeeeeven go there, shall we NOT?

Anyway...
In the days (and days) worth of time I was awake this time, I again cleaned the house.
Half to death.
Mine or it's, I'm not sure, but... I won again.
House is clean and has stayed that way for over 24 hours so far this time.

My biggest goal is for people NOT to know just how many cats I have the instant they walk in the door.
I don't care how many they can see, either.

It's how many they can smell that I wanna control.
And, I do.

I've heard "Wow! Yo have a lot of cats!", usually said in amazement many, many times and never ONCE have I heard, or seen the look that says, "That explains it."
"It" being an overpowering smell.

Of course, being on a farm, there's only so much you can do about animal-oriented smells, anyway, unless you wanna be a total control freak/bitch about it and be all militant about "dirt" (read: cow shit) coming into your house and then, by being that way, make a stupid building (the house) more important than the people who live in it.
Especially the one who makes it possible to even have the house.
(In my case, that'd be Eric.)

And, there are women who do that.
Farm wives, especially.

Their man works his ass off all day long.
Sweatin', getting shit on, pissed on and abused by bovines, getting dirty, greasy and just icked up by the work.
Then, he gets his day done and what does he come home to?

A militant bitch who makes him strip off "outside" the main house, whisk his clothes into the hamper and shower before he's even allowed to sit the hell down and breathe.
All in the name of living in what amounts to a museum.

That's bullshit.
And, I think it's based in the woman's not feeling powerful enough in her own life, not "in control" enough of her own shit, that she feels a need to control that as opposed to her cleanliness obssession or her own silly-assed self.

Me?
I'm not like that.
I mean, yeah, I like a clean house, but... it's not how I define myself.
I'd rather have a cat-picked old couch and be comfortable in my house than have a four thousand dollar leather couch nobody is allowed to breathe on, let alone touch, ya know?

When Eric gets done work, he kicks his boots off outside (his own choice, which I've told him a trillion times he doesn't hafta do), comes into the living room and collapses, cow poop and all, into his lounge chair and relaxes.

IF any cow poopage gets on his chair, or any place else it doesn't really need to be, they make stuff to clean it up with, not the least of which is a thing called "a vacuum".
It's not hard.
It's not worth hectoring a man into insanity over.

The way I see it, if God gives you back your man after a day of work, if he's not out drinking and carousing, if "home" is where he wants to be... let him be "home" and be himself and relax.

Instead of tearing him a new one because he dared to walk on, thus track up, your oh so friggin' important "clean floor" thereby telling him the stupid FLOOR is more important than HE is, a woman oughta use that energy to get him something to eat.

He has, after all, just spent all day busting his ass for you to have that floor to be so obssessed with in the first place.

My disgust with this "female thing" is at it's zenith with the ones who don't even have a job and still pull this shit.

If it's all you have to do, you need to look at a guy running around making messes as "job security".

And, if you do have a job and still have the lion's share of "house shit" to do, why can't you just do it, the job and the house shit, and shut up, knowing that not only are you pulling your weight, but if you need to, telling yourself that, secretly, you are "superior" (which is what most females seem to be so consumed with) because you do do both WITHOUT BITCHING?

Heh.
Probably just answered my own question.
The key to that is not bitching about it, just doing it.

Very few women can do that.
The "not bitching about it" part.
That's probably why they don't it, huh?

Anyway...

My thoughts are all over the place this morning.
Not stressed, just trying to correlate things...
About "appearances" masking the truth and how that seems more to be a more prevalent thing in Jersey than it does here.
About how, even though things "look" good to the general public, the life being experienced is still horrible.
About how, when I drive around, around here in Gettysburg, seeing the houses and farms and vehicles and people make me feel like a kid again, like I'm back to being around 10 or 12 years old, not beat half to shit by life yet as opposed to what the environment in Jersey makes me think of, which is, "Yeah. Looks nice out here, but what if there's a woman getting her ass beat every night inside that "beautiful" house? Or a kid being molested? Or a guy being destroyed by some BC?"

I know people who are utterly miserable in the life they're living, but who are able, or maybe feel constrained, to continuing to live that life because of "appearances".
They strive to make their lives look perfect and what do they really have?

Not much, I think.

I, on the other hand, look like a human tornado/mess/psychiatrists dream on the "outside".
The "outside" upon which "appearances" are based.
BUT, once you get in, once you get past that part, you find a pretty grounded person.

At least NOW ya do.
More and moreso every day.

I never have been one to put much stock in how things look.
I wanna see how they ARE.
If they're real, good.
If it's all bullshit, bye.

Maybe that's why, or another reason why, I have such a hard time relating to women in general.

They think, act and are one way... that way... and, I'm not.

I dunno.
There's so much to this.
I can't even touch on in all now because I really do need to start getting ready for work.
(Which means: put on sweats, a T-shirt and my boots and get a cuppa coffee ready to take with me, period. No makeup, no hair hell, nona that crap... *grin*)

All I know for sure is the longer I'm here, the more open I become, the more I like it.
I get snatches of this feeling... I feel "new" again for a minute here or there, like a kid, like someone who hasn't had their innocence sullied... a person for whom a sunny Saturday morning to spend with her horse is IT.
Cartoons and the smell of Play-Doh.
A brand new "64" box of Crayolas with new Bugs Bunny coloring books.
My Dad right in there watching Jeopardy and cooking dinner.
Sittin' in Pop-pop's lap, drinking his coffee, watching the Road Runner and Wile E. go at it for an hour....

Gettysburg seems to be giving me that back.
Or, at least reminding me that it ever existed.

And, most important...

It's making me feel like it IS possible to feel that way again, to have that back.
And, best of all... from my own life.
Not from sources that invariably, inevitably ARE going to be taken away, removed or stolen.

And, even if I never do figure this all out, I do appreciate thinking about it and getting to feel it at all, already.

So...
Thanks, God.
I'm tryin'.

Peace, y'all...

Posted by: Stevie at 06:04 AM

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Posted by: Light & Dark at June 11, 2006 04:08 PM (M9GWX)

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