it’s time to fancify the cubiffice

I have never liked the word “decorate”. It sounds so 70s-ish. Like “modern”, which is usually describing something that is the exact opposite.

In place of decorate, among other choices, Visual Thesaurus suggests fancify. I’ll take it.

It’s been a week of stressfully attempting to separate myself from everything and everyone I know and love. Which is impossible because for whatever reason, those things and people love me back and kinda protested my moves. So the week has instead become one of shifting and shuffle.

1. Rather than sending the baby to live with Canadian wolf packs, I am pinpointing his food allergy with scientific precision (giving him 16 oz of milk—Greedy Gus—then rubbing his back as he throws it all back up onto my bedsheets. Allergy #1: milk)
2. Finally calling this amazing and super nice grandma woman who’d been looking for another baby to keep during the day since her own grandchildren started school in last fall. We are visiting her on Sunday and if I can’t find her satanic worship paraphernalia on the first try, Ehren’s got a new grandma starting Monday, saving me a chunk of change in my childcare budget.
3. Telling the expensive county toll roads to suck it. Yes, Houston traffic is terrible, but they don’t call the the toll road the beltway for nothing. It goes round and round and round and I probably pass my office three or four times before actually reaching my exit. Taking the freeway through the heart of the city is a straight shot, costs nothing and actually saved me time this morning. The catch? If there is a traffic accident, I’m stuck. For a savings of $180 a month, I’ll take that chance.
4. Reminding two baby daddies of their child support and medical support obligations. And by reminding, I mean running them past the state attorney general to say hi. That’s a long-term solution, nothing will happen right away, but it is a better solution than sending The Older Ones to live with “relatives” in West Virginia.
5. Believing it when Q tells me how awesome I am, not whatever-ing it away.

And it really is time for me to make myself comfy at my job. Yeah, I am tired of packing up my stuff before storming out in a huff or being stormed out. But I’m thinking that maybe I’ll feel more mentally attached if I make my cubiffice more personal. Tomorrow as a baby step, I’ll bring the drawing mannequin Q gave me for my birthday a few years ago. And a lamp.