Now I know your heads are swimming with campaign issues and ugly clothes from the 70s and cooking bacon in your ovens and important stuff like that, but I am here to tell you that a serious problem has been solved! In two weeks, I will be losing 250 pounds all in the matter of two days! You can too! Here's my secret:
I'm going to pack a large grocery sack with things like peanut butter and Cup-O-Noodles and beef jerky. Then I'm going to gather a sleeping bag, pillow, and tent. Next will be a fair-sized suitcase, and I'm going to fill it with Mister Hit-and-Run's clothes, give him $200, take the key back to my house, and kick his beery-smelling keester out. That's 150 pounds right there!
I gave that boy plenty of notice! I said, "You have one month to either get accepted into Job Corps, get a full time job, or join the military. Not 'planning-on', not 'thinking-about-it', not 'I-know'. Your plan will be in place, or you can no longer live here......if living here means you drag your drunk self home some nights, eat all my hot dogs and chips, take a shower and off you go again." He just looked at me with that kind of sweet hangover grin and bloodshot eyes and said, "Okay."
I have, in the last two weeks, nagged and reminded and chastised. Every single time he has said, "okay," and then proceeded to sleep til noon on the days he came home at all, show up late for work, leave his dishes on the coffee table while he slept in front of the TV, light up the house all night, and leave the windows open letting in all kinds of truly ugly creatures with wings. Actually, that's just a sampling of his talents. So, here we are. Tough love is giving a tough shove. He cannot come home, even to shower or do laundry, until he has made positive and permanent changes. Booyah!
Next up is Miss Bulimic Bohemian Hemp Jeweler's departure for college! The very next day! She's going to a very liberal arts college in-state (but not that close to home, heh) to get her degree in macrame or hookah design or something like that, that will change the world and all. I have graciously, without seeming all that eager (thank Jebus I was a thespian in high school, for it has come in handy) gathered up towels and sheets and body wash and feminine hygiene products in anticipation of her need to pack it all up. There's the other 100 pounds! Well, to be completely honest, it could be anywhere from 98 to 140 pounds.....weight fluctuates when you alternately eat only green beans for two weeks and then have your own personal Russell Stover convention for the next two.
So, wow! Lord Curmudgeon King, Cheerfully Suicidal Octogenarian and I are pretty much beside ourselves with glee! Think about it! No stolen food, booze or money! Lights out at night, doors locked and windows shut! No begging for gas money! No filthy bedrooms and cell phones going off at all hours! No funny pipes left in the couch cushions!
Now, if Tessa the Incontinent Great Dane could just hold her water, life would seemingly be on track again. Well, oh crap, my loud and dramatic sister from Florida (CSO's favorite, who she used to live with, but got kicked out) is moving back up here soon, so I guess the chaos is bound to continue. At least it will be different chaos, eh?
But until then it's gonna be a freakin' festival around here.