In The ‘Quiet’

Well, I’ve stopped stalking the mailman. In fact, yesterday, I didn’t even know he came. My ears are normally peeled for his squeaky tires as they round the corner of our house – I can tell when that squeaking stops that he’s right in front of our box. Sometimes, I even go outside to water the garden and pretend like I’m not waiting to pounce.

Until yesterday. Yesterday he came and went. The boys checked the mail and put it on my desk. I’m pretty sure a whole five minutes passed before I even noticed it was there.

So, Mr. Mailman – I recognize that you do not hold the power of our immigration letter, and I will stop hunting you down everyday at 10:58 a.m. (Which, by the way, has become later and later over the last month. I’m wondering if you’ve been eating your Wheaties?)

To occupy my free time, I’ve hounded my husband to finish the basement. He painted the exposed trim on the shed as a compromise.

I made thirteen bags and have just a few left. I even used some remnants to make myself one – huge. Not a huge bag, but huge that I made one for myself.

I rid the house of some clutter, although I left the rest behind otherwise it just wouldn’t feel like home.

I’ve stirred up a little trouble here and there just for excitement. I feel like life is becoming dull, and I needed a little adventure. Since people who are angry with me are usually unpredictable, I thought it was a good place to start. That was at least two days worth of distraction.

The book is nearly finished. Woo! I attended the first yard sale of my season and remarked to my husband, “Wow, college guys have really started yardsale-ing since the last time I came out.” To which my husband replied, “No. It’s 12:30 and the college guys have woken up. The ladies have all come and gone since 7 a.m. – which used the be the time that you yardsaled, too.” Next time, I’ll keep his advice in mind. I’ll have a much more successful trip.

Oh – here’s a good one. Just to prove that I’m good at waiting now. I’ve single handedly let my taxes sit with my accountant from February 10th until now without being filed. How awesome is that? I haven’t even called or stalked him to remind him over and over again until last Friday. Now, our relationship is made of one word emails. That’s how much he understands me. He can email the word ‘yes’ back to me and feel like I’m intuitive enough to get the rest. Amazing. I wonder how the IRS has become at waiting? I bet they don’t mind a bit either?

That’s all I –

Wait, I hear squeaky tires. Gotta go.

~ by Marian Green on April 13, 2010.