Bucket list

Someday, years from now, when I can take the time for myself . . . when the kid(s) is (are) safely in university or somewhere else on his (their) own devices, and the F-word is off somewhere or other without me - who are we kidding 'somewhere or other', obviously it'll be when he's making a visit to Australia that I don't come along on because as if I'll be doing anything but the bare minimum of visits here in the future, it's fucking far - and all my friends are busy, I'm going to rent myself an apartment in some awesome, stupid city like Lisbon or Bordeaux or Dubrovnik, get high as fuck for a week, and read Ivanhoe and watch Game of Thrones. Maybe a few weeks, if Game of Thrones has lots of seasons.

There's never been anything on television as awesome and stupid as Game of Thrones, just like there's never been a book as awesome and stupid as Ivanhoe. I mean, seriously, that last episode was so awesome and stupid, right from the dragon setting all those dwarf goats on fire to the guy at the end throwing his plea deal in favour of trial by combat, that I feel like I got awesomer and stupider just watching it. There has never been anything this stupid and awesome, ever, that gives me those awesome, stupid chills like this, besides Ivanhoe.

I became a mother, a professional and financially solvent-ish all at the right time to not have a very regretful or wistful bucket-listy sort of outlook on life, at least for the moment. But I am really looking forward to that awesome, stupid week or two someday.

There is this one thing about - well, I would say US culture, but out of respect to Bartlam I'll admit I have basically zero firsthand knowledge of US culture outside of California or the northeast - that is just so fucking, fucking annoying. I'm choosing to blame it on widespread addiction to antidepressants spacing everybody out rather than to any intrinsically fuckwitted thing about the culture, but I've noticed those people can be so fucking cavalier about other people's money. As though absolutely no care needs to be taken during any financial transaction because obviously the person who is receiving the money is going to be measuring the incoming dollars and cents so carefully that if there is a problem they can be the ones to deal with it.

Given the errors always seem to favour the money-payers, I suspect I'm being overly charitable ascribing this to antidepressant spaceout; indeed it's rather more likely everybody's hoping the recipients are having an antidepressant spaceout and just won't notice forever. Fuckers.

I've seen this shit time and again in corporate situations, time and fucking again, in ongoing relationships where you'd think you wouldn't want to fuck around with goodwill no less, and that was one of the reasons I was upset that during the reshuffle of my company the HR managing my pay packet got shuffled off from the absolute martinet whiz HR genius in Europe to the Chowder City (that's the point of Boston, right?) office. It's been going about as well as I expected it to. Their latest trick, besides taking a really long time to pay me, is constantly forgetting that they're supposed to pay the international transfer fees. Good one.

At least I know it's not personal . . . they're doing it to everybody in foreign offices. Anyways. It's annoying me more than it should. I've been having energy issues lately. Probably because Godzilla is nursing a little more erratically and my body isn't quite sure what to do about this whole ovulating thing. Life is rather lovely at the moment but all the same it occurs to me with monotonous regularity how nice a 20 minute nap would be. This chills me out so well it's almost as good, and I can do it while I work, which is handy: