Google potato peels and garbage disposals and you will see that it’s not recommended.  Apparently (and don’t quote me because I have to admit that I skimmed the hell out of the entire topic) they act like glue (starch?) and clog up the garbage disposal.  I have always had a container of some sort with a baggie in it beside the sink to put all my gunky food shit in it.  Last year I got all fancypants and replaced it with a canister from Fiestaware.  I vaguely remember when we were growing up that my mother used a coffee can (we are klassy with a K, man).  No, we did not compost.  Or maybe we did.  I can’t remember.  I know we had a huge garden when I was growing up, but I seriously cannot remember if we did the whole throw food onto a pile in order for it to rot and become fertilizer thing.  I do know that we used manure at times.  I think.  Holy crap!  I’m losing my childhood memories!  About the only thing I do throw down my disposal is cereal and shit.  In my world, garbage disposals are a big waste of time and money.

Oh!  I was reading archives of an old-school journaler and there was an actual debate because he used to scrape his plate of uneaten food in the toilet and made it go away with one flush (a throwback from living in New York and roaches).  I was all, “That is ingenious!” but according to his comment section most people were appalled by the entire situation.  I guess I’m not the delicate flower that I want to be because seriously, if the choice were cockroaches or flushing my leftovers, I wouldn’t think twice about it.  Bon Voyage, blue plate special!

Speaking of childhood memories.  A patient, who is a distant relative, came in to the office on Monday and handed me an plastic bag full of pictures.  The last thing I want to see are pictures from my youth.  GOOD GOD, I was an awful looking mess that didn’t even come close to the word cute.  It was very sweet of him to bring them in for me and I thanked him, but I would appreciate it if I never, ever saw pictures like that again.  Whew.  I was a DOG (not to be confused with DAWG) and thank Christ that make-up and hair products were invented! I might scan those pictures some day and post them.  Then again, I might not.  It will mostly depend on my sensitive self-esteem.

And yes, Rick is surely going to leave me because I am an ungrateful bitch who does not appreciate his gifts.  In all fairness, he didn’t really have a chance to go souvenir shopping, but I still stand by the fact that it was a bitter disappointment that instead of cute new earrings I am stuck with a horrid little box.  And yes, I did immediately turn that bitch over and look for a Made in China sticker.  I also looked at him in confusion and said, “You got me a stash box?”  Hee!  I won’t even mention the Day of the Dead miniature woman that he bought because I am sick to death of clutter in my house and made it a New Year’s resolution to not buy anything that has to sit somewhere and collect dust.  The dumb bitch is on my kitchen window sill right now.  Sigh.  I’m going to use her as a Christmas tree ornament because her arms broke off and she will go perfect with our one legged witch that sits as the Angel atop our tree.

Just be thankful you don’t live in my house.  And yes, I completely understand why people think I’m weird.  I’m also okay with being weird because I find that most people that are considered normal are boring.  I can’t abide by boring because….zzzzzzzzzzzz.  Yeah.

So yesterday I wrote all about how I was going to work all day on the whole Quicken/Budget thing.  Well, I didn’t do it.  I ignored it until Rick came home from work and then I forced myself to get on it and figure out the entire mess with a little help from Rick.  The only thing I seriously managed to get done was the reconciling of my checkbook.  Did I ever mention how badly I bombed accounting when I was in high school?  Oh, yeah.  You know the phrase GO BIG or GO HOME?  Baby, when I say bombed I mean catastrophic.  I hated that class with a white hot passion because of the rules.  So many freaking boring rules and blahblahblah COLUMNS.  Blech.  After being involved with various men (slut!whore!) and always combining funds I finally got my own checking account when Trey was a little over a month old.  He’s going to be 16 years old next month.  So for over 15 years I have had my own checking account and NEVER, EVER bounced a check.  I also NEVER, EVER reconciled a bank statement because hello, BORING.  In order to do the Quicken thing with online banking right I had to make sure everything was reconciled and I spent the evening doing that and let me tell you, it was not fun.  Rick was appalled that I had over $300 more in there than what my checkbook said.  I was not surprised.  Since I DO NOT reconcile my statements I always tried to err on the side of NOT BOUNCING which means that I knew damn well I had more money in there than what my check register said.  It’s called CUSHIONING in case of ERROR.  Sheesh.  Why can’t Mr. MBA understand that?  He’s all particular and WHATEVS, over 15 years and NOT ONE BOUNCED CHECK!

It was a long night, but I am reconciled down to the penny.

I took a screen shot to show you where I was as of last night. Now mind you, it is not complete and you have to remember that this is NOT our combined household money, just MINE. I have more things to enter and I’m sure the pie chart is going to change (obviously I cropped the monetary amounts out because there are some things I am not willing to share online). Please note how fucked up it is that my credit card slice is almost as big as my AUTO. And that the HOUSEHOLD one is only that big because I bought a vacuumn cleaner (Oreck) and a few other things that I didn’t really need and it will be much smaller next month.

I have GOT TO STOP WITH THE SHOPPING. Seeing it like this really jolted me into reality. I had no idea that a major portion of my income is going to paying credit card bills. RIDICULOUS. One thing I am glad of is that our DINING OUT went down to almost nothing. Today is all about setting up a realistic budget and making sure that it sticks. Those mofo credit cards are getting paid off and done with because I HATE THEM and I guess I’m going to have to live with the fact that if I don’t have cash for something, I’m not getting it. At 45 years old I think it’s time that I just grow the hell up already.

I’m outta here.