And not one word about the air freshener...

I promise.

The holidays are approaching much faster than usual, it would seem. Thanksgiving is next week. Madness! And yet...despite the quickly approaching festivities, I have refrained from partaking. Ok, so last night I had a peppermint mocha at Starbucks, but that's miles away from putting up a Christmas tree. It doesn't even count as a holiday celebration. That's coffee--I do that all the time! I know there is a large group of people who think it's way too early in the season. I try to stay away from it until Thanksgiving, but you know...you can't stop progress. Or the holiday juggernaut. Christmas movies are starting to pop up on all the usual networks, though, and who am I to stop them? Television, you do what you have to do--don't worry about those naysayers who think it's too early! (And feel free to play Elf as many times as you find necessary. Thanks.)

Speaking of the holiday frenzy, I saw a commercial for Baskin-Robbins ice cream cakes--to help your family celebrate! And while I'm ok with ice cream cake, (BR is inferior to my mother's recipe, though--seriously, ask any of her offspring.) I am NOT ok with a cake shaped like a turkey! Blechhhh. How is that appetizing? It's confusing! Like when you eat a buttered popcorn Jelly Belly...eyes say candy, but brain says popcorn. I do not enjoy taste experiences like that. (Bottom line: if anyone shows up to my Thanksgiving this year bearing a turkey cake, please expect to leave immediately. Seriously, no room at the inn and all that. You'll be asked to go.)

Yesterday, the phone rang. It was a recorded message, and I only got as far as, "Press 1 for a message about capitalism." I hung up because really, I don't have time for that. It did leave questions in my mind, though. Was the message pro-capitalism? Against it? Was it just going to define the term for me? Ask my opinion? The possibilities are endless! Maybe I should have listened? ...Then, I remembered that it was likely going to be really annoying. I felt better in my decision. Maybe next time, whoever you are, you'll get to the point sooner.

Yup.

Actual phone conversation.

Brother: What's the deal with Lady Gaga?
BitterAmanda: What about Lady Gaga?
Brother: What's the deal?
BA: ...

Pathetic.

Day 172: Wednesday
Have realized yesterday's Big Plan was folly. Grow bored of setting schedule to pollute earth and home. Feel vaguely pathetic. Back to the drawing board. Curse at air freshener in way that would make sailors and truckers proud. Thought cough was seasonal cold...perhaps is side effect? Have contracted Linen Lung? Resolve to google disease and speak with family.

Studying the classics.

Day Something-or-Other: Monday
9am: Wonder if slow motion will sneak by motion detector. Move very, very, slowly whenever in restroom. Success. Briefly. Successful until boredom sets in. Have no patience for this method.

Day Forever: Tuesday
7:45am: Have set off malicious device three times since waking up at 6. New record. Excited for work--decide to use restroom often, relishing in fresh air.
5pm: Not surprised at familiar hissing sound. Swear half-heartedly at box. Remember fondly time when box needed refill. Family was lazy. Refill was slow in coming.
BRAINSTORM. AM GENIUS.
Am reminded of something about keeping enemies close? New. Plan. Will not outsmart box! Will befriend box. Resolve to spend all waking hours in home setting off device. Wave hands in front of box and run every 30 minutes. On. The. Dot. Consider this "taking one for the team"...team of one. Team Amanda. ...Sentiment stands. Figure that only so much "clean linen" poison can be contained in tiny box. This is far from over.

Notes from the week.

A few things from the classroom this week with my little darlings...

On Thursday, A built a castle out of blocks. "Who lives there?" I asked.
"You do."
"I do? It's beautiful! Who else lives there?"
"I do."
"And what do we do in the castle?"
"We ride bikes." Well, no one ever built me a castle before. I was rather touched. Then, he asked me to sit with him while he did a puzzle. I think he's a bit enchanted with me.

H, however, is not enchanted with me. "Before snack," I said, "we need to line up to wash our hands."
"No." That is all H said to me.
"H, you need to wash your hands."
"You're not my friend!"
"Ok, you still need to wash your hands."
"My mom loves me! You're not my friend!" (I don't know how these are connected. But he really meant it.)
"Moms are good for that. If you don't wash your hands, you don't get snack." (This is not a sweet kid we're dealing with right now. Attitude has reared its ugly head.)
"No. YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND." (H, I've got plenty of friends. I'm not here to make friends.)
"I don't care. Get in line."

Today, I looked at the dollhouse and noticed Barbie sharing a bed with Prince Charming. It was the absolute height of scandal as far as I was concerned! I know she broke up with Ken a few years ago, but I heard they were together again. Apparently they have something of a modern relationship now? (Facebook status: It's Complicated with Ken.) And Prince Charming! He really ought to know better! Way to further ruin it for gentlemen everywhere, Prince Charming. I am disappointed.

When H came in today, I was prepared for more attitude. When he asked me to help him with a puzzle, I thought we'd turned a corner. So we worked on a puzzle, and that was all well and good. But, apparently H thought we were Exclusive Puzzle Friends--I was unaware of that arrangement. When H got up for another puzzle, I turned to N to see how he was doing. And then H returned. "We're not friends?" Oh. Um, about that...
I explained that we were all friends, and let's check out that puzzle you picked out! Bob the Builder? Awesome choice!
And then it was over. As quickly as I was brought into H's circle of friends, I was unceremoniously shoved out. There I was, helping anyone and everyone with their puzzles with little regard for H's feelings! I hadn't realized how serious H wanted to be. Because of my indiscretion, we battled again over hand washing. In the end, he got in line--and promptly tried to wash his hands in the drinking fountain. Touché, young man. Point taken.


I love my job.

And so it continues.

Day I Lost Count Months Ago: Saturday
12:30pm: Have renewed confidence in using facilities in own home. Feeling good about self and life.
12:32pm: Use facilities. Hear hissing noise. Assaulted by familiar "clean linen" scent. Gag. Cough. Experience flashback, making ordeal twice as bad as usual. Finish quickly, holding breath. Exit bathroom, breathe. Gag. Resolve to figure out mystery.
12:34pm: Suspicions confirmed: mother has replaced cartridge. (Foiled by own parent?) Feel self-esteem plummet. Question motives. "It's my house" found to be airtight. Walk away with head hung low; lungs itchy. Eyeball tiny air-not-refreshing box--it will know who is in charge this time. (Hint: Not malevolent demon.)

Day After That: Sunday
11:20pm: Have not been in bathroom once all day without setting off fresh wave of chemical blight. Am weary. Wonder if poisonous jack-in-the-box has Gremlin-like and/or Wicked Witch-like qualities; consider dousing with water. Think better of this.
11:47pm: Creep into bathroom. Brush teeth. Exit bathroom. Hear ominous hissing. TOO LATE, BOX. HAVE WON THIS ROUND. Small victory, but important one.