Time to Pay the Piper…

As many of you know, the University of Washington recently declared me dangerously over-educated; I have the diploma to prove it.

Since then, I have been living in the wonderful and mostly imaginary land of, “Grace Period.” During my stay, I would receive notices telling me I must leave Grace Period, but unfortunately, Grace Period is such a beautiful and alluring place, I would simply acknowledge these notices and continue about my day in GP.

In Grace Period, the sun is warm, but not too hot and the air is clean and fresh. Food tastes better; sleep is deeper and more restful. Love is sweeter in Grace Period, and there is much freedom to do what you want to do, when you want to do it. In Grace Period, it truly is a wonderful life.

I’ve been deported.

Much to my chagrin and dismay, the cold, hard truth of the “Real World” has extradited me kicking and screaming. Now… I have to pay for the late-nights, the papers, the bad books, the excruciating classes, the mind-numbing comments from other students and the group presentations. I have to pay for watching my loved ones have fun while I sat at home on weekends reading the incomprehensible written by dead, French philosophers.

I will pay for this: three-hundred dollars at a time… for the rest of my life.

Conversations with Biology…

As you might imagine, Mrs. eSquared has been doing a fair amount of fretting about our upcoming bundle of joy. Though all of her worries are my worries… there have been a few that have been slightly more difficult to take on than others. When we first learned we were pregnant, Mrs. E2 started obsessing about childcare more than a year and a half before we needed it.

I realized this anxiety is probably biologically driven. Certainly, it’s in the best interest of the species for expectant mothers to be anxious about their young. Until now I’ve been unaware of the degree that new mothers are compelled to explore in their hormone-crazed delusion.

Mrs. E2: “I saw pregnant woman at work today.”
E2: “Yeah… “
Mrs. E2: “She’s about half-along as we are.”
E2: “Mmmm…”
Mrs. E2: “She’s twice as big…”
E2: [thinking to myself] oh no…
Mrs. E2: “Maybe we’re having a pigmy baby.”
E2: “What?!?”

There are more… I just can’t remember them right now.

Birdshit, Window & Concrete Cleaner...

Yesterday, I just got my hair cut, and I was on my way to the gas station when, *WHAP!* the biggest pile of birdshit I've ever seen hits my windshield. After I composed myself, and stopped screaming like a little girl, I was rather impressed. I remarked out loud, "Must've been a big bird."
So... as I'm filling the car with gas, I remember to buy some window washing fluid. The melting snow, sand and other dirt have made a mess of the car and the windows. I also decide to get the car washed rather than scrape the birdshit off with my ice scraper.

They did a really crappy job on the car... Yeah, the birdshit is gone, but now I have a partially clean car with big dirt streaks and spots. Oh well.. a battle for another day.

I came home and parked in the garage, and later... Mrs. eSquared and I come home from dinner and there is a huge puddle (more like a pond) if iridescent fluid under my car. I think it's antifreeze.

So... this morning, I pull the car out and get ready to crawl under to see what fresh evil my car has for me. I put my finger in the pond, which over night has sprouted rivers and tributaries.

"Humm... doesnt feel like antifreeze."
"Humm... doesnt smell like antifreeze."
"Humm... doesnt taste like antifreeze." It's window washing stuff (breath of relief, followed by a lot of spitting).

Breathing easier, I sprinkled kitty litter on the pond and rivers to absorb the liquid so I can just sweep it out.

At this point, reference this post from July: Passively Crowing the Garage… & Mother Stuff

I come out later to clean up the kittylitter and find this:

A gallon of concrete & asphault cleaner. Lovely. Old Crow has left for the day.

Hours later...