I needed to work. Like I said before, I really would work anywhere. Well I got a job as a housekeeper. I have a four year education and I’m a housekeeper. Never saw that one coming. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging the job as bad. Frankly I’m not cut out for it. It takes a lot of memorization and detail orientation to do a good job. While I am detail orientated it and I'm getting the hang of it, there is also a lot of work.What really is going to kill me is the idea that I also have to be fast at getting it done. There are actual time limits for separate rooms. Amazing! I also look at this as an idea of getting more experience and really one can work up from being a maid. Just look at what happened in the Maid in Manhattan with Jennifer Lopez. Maybe not the best example but it’s all I’m picturing. Cheesy me, but if I’m going to survive I have to give myself some kind of dream.
In other news I’m really keeping up with making myself busy. I’ve worked on decorating my childhood home. I don’t know if I mentioned that. The purple that used to be my girlhood has been replaced by antique rosewood and a beige/grey on opposite walls for my adult life. I’ve got great plans to make the room an escape and a comfortable one at that. I already have the full size bed, dresser, antique trunk, and desk set up. I only have to make a headboard for bed, buy an armoire to be able to hide my clothes I hang up, line the antique trunk with cloth, cover the end tables with cloth, hang a chandelier, and get the curtains and bedding to match. Oh and I should probably do something about the flooring since right now it is just the plywood that used to be under the carpet. I’ll probably use a cheaper version and stick wooden flooring down. I’m not going carpet in here but I want a Persian rug. Yep, those are all my ideas. I keep joking saying it going to be a sultry room but it is more earthen and inspiring. As long as the shrines to cats are gone I think I made a major step.
Speaking of the massive amount of cat paraphernalia, my new roomie (best friend who needed a place to stay) went through the spare room between us. My mother was using it as storage for most of the stuff she had moved out of my room and her things as well. We kept my mother out of our decisions but for a few items. We overhauled most of the items by ourselves. We got a good half of the room cleaned out. However that only means that there are two piles downstairs that need to be moved outside. One pile that is for keepsakes and the other is to be gotten rid of (my mother insists on giving it to her sister to sell at her rummage sale store). I’m proud to say the keepsake pile is a good half size as the get rid of one. I’m proud only because that means I’m able to get rid of so much. I’m not holding on to things right now. It’s great news because I’m starting to fear that I will hold on too much. I don’t want to horde or think that everything is important to keep. Of course I do hold on. Just take my living situation. I’m still in this house even though it would have made my mother’s life so much easier to sell. Am I selfish? Most likely, though I do have some good reasons for making her stay, but I won’t get into that.
One of the things that I found today was a journal. We had a good laugh at my writing back then. Frankly, I had forgotten that I did. I mean I thought the first time I wrote anything was during my Lithuania trip in 2007. Apparently in 1999, I dabbled with putting my thoughts down. Okay, not really my thoughts. It was the typical “I woke up; I did this and I did that.” For a ten year old the fact that there were some added thoughts on top of that means I was going somewhere with the writing. The funniest parts were the ending when I wrote things like, “then I, Samantha Morin, went to bed.” With that past note, I’m off to bed right now.
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