Slacking and Loving It

Well, here’s my internet home. It won’t be riveting, but it can be interesting, and you might learn things you never knew before.

The Failboat* is an colorful description of my life at the moment. No, not in all areas; gadzooks, if the rest of my life would just follow my phenomenally awesome marriage, it would be paradise. But now that I can say I’m 36, I wonder where the time has gone and where did my teenage dreams go?

I had it all planned out when I was seventeen: I was going to school and going to teach and coach and be phenomenally awesome. I was going to marry and have my perfect 2.5 kids and all of that, long before I was thirty, be perfect and wonderful and blah blah blah. Well, such is idealism at seventeen.

I got derailed by wildland firefighting right out of high school. It’s a job and an experience that not many people, let alone women, do, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I have some interesting stories, and now and again I’ll delve into those memories, both good and bad. I’ll even have running commentary when it pops into the news and tell you the real stories that the newspaper idiots never tell you.

After seven years of hiking hills for a living, I got tired of the misogyny and politics and rampant bullshit, so I took my toys and went home. I added to my resume ramp operations for an airline, emergency dispatcher, an uncertified teacher at a charter school, a financial aid officer for the worst ever for-profit school in the nation (gee, guess which one? ha), and I’ve finally come home to the legal field, where I use my brains and have a respectable and decent paying career.

In subsequent posts, I’ll ruminate on my piss-poor bad luck in my love life until The One came along. The One is awesome, perfect, and so rare in my age group, and no, not yours, can’t have. Mine!

Today I am a slacker. The Boss is in court, I’m at the office alone, and I’m enjoying the hell out of the silence. The phone has only rung once this morning; there were no messages (sweet!). I know I’ll be screwed later, and not get out of here anywhere near 2:30 because of high maintenance clients. But, until then, I’ll email back and forth with a dear friend, send love notes to The One, and decide what I want to do with my new internet home.

 .

 .

 .

__________________________

*Familiar? See you on teh intarwebs