FNL: Flustercuck

• I didn't want to put fuck in the title, thus "flustercuck." 
• Hubby had an interview last Friday for a good job - they hired the person in front of him.  Awesome.
• Hubby found a temp job - 4-12 weeks, 6 days a week, 12 hours a day.  Yeah, I won't see him.  What happens?  He goes in to fill out the paperwork, and they will not accept his temp IN license for a background check.  The actual license has not arrived yet.  Because the person who mailed it from the driving school put the wrong address on it.  So he CAN'T get a job until that arrives.  So he might miss out on this opportunity.  Awesome - again.  It seems they may hold a spot for him, so that is good.  He is so anxious to be working, contributing.
• P is a sneaky devil.  He faked out the very experienced sitter yesterday.  Cried as though in pain for 1.5 hours straight.  He even threw up.  She gave him teething rings, put teething gel on, gas drops, bicycled his legs, rocked him, walked him, tried to feed both milk and solid food...etc etc etc.  She finally called me because he is NEVER like this.  He is a happy baby.  So I left work and went to check on him - he fussed for show when I came in and then was all grins and happiness.  He played sick to get me to come to him.  At 8 months old.  I. Am. Screwed.  This kid is already too smart for his own good. 
• I am stoked about thrift store finds from earlier this week - rocking horses, a juicer, clothing, books, etc for $65.  SCORE! 
• In order to get everything for Christmas done I am going to have to start staying up later or doing projects while P is playing.  Sigh.  DIY Christmas.  Good to do.  Requires time.
• The first batch of Holiday cards rolled in - I am so stoked!  Our first family holiday card!  I feel so grown up.  Tee hee.
• In case you didn't read my post yesterday, I am FED UP with my job.  I hate that I need it.  Sorry, rough week.  Rough couple of weeks.  Mantra: "It pays the bills. It pays the bills. It pays the bill..."
• How is Thanksgiving next week?  Seriously.  How is it November.  And how is my son 8 months on Sunday.  WHERE IS THE TIME GOING????  Oh, Father Time, you are cruel sometimes. 
• I swear that I am brain dead.  I come in here to write, and I am at a loss. I feel like I have no direction on here anymore.  Someone told me I don't really NEED direction, but you know, I'd like to keep y'all interested.  I am just drawing a blank.  Sorry for being boring.  I love you all for sticking around.

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