The Gold Glove and Fat Clauses

This week, one of my favorite baseball players, Kevin Youkilis, was awarded a gold glove. Yooooouk is an excellent first-baseman, a by-all-accounts-good-guy, and an integral part of the 2007 World Series Champion Boston Red Sox.

The other news out of the Red Sox camp was that Curt Schilling has resigned for one year. With a fat clause. He's not allowed to show up at spring training in February looking like the bloated, beached whale that he is. Don't get me wrong, I like Schill, and I think he has a lot to offer kids like Buckholtz and Lester. But a fat clause? Holy shit. I hope my employer doesn't catch wind of this.

Rape

Thunk. beeep beeep beeep. Thunk-bang. Scraaaape. Thunk.

A piece of Earth that does not want to be built upon. It is resisting at every turn, throwing rocks and steep hills at its attacker. Lacking the strength to hold the attacker at bay, in desperation, Earth acquiesces.

House Queer

I have worked from home for just over three years now. Many think that this is a great "perk" to my job. While I do enjoy a commute that even Al Gore would approve of, and the ability to go weeks without shaving my legs or wearing makeup (sorry, honey!), there are a great many things that are not so good about working from home.

Aforementioned hairy legs notwithstanding, it's easy to let your personal hygiene lapse when you work from home. Yes, I shower every day, but a clean shirt? Nah. Yesterday's waffleweave sweatshirt with yesterday's tomato soup splashed on the collar is FINE.

Work is always right THERE. "Just another 5 minutes on email...." or "Can't sleep, may as well work" have become the all-too-often heard mumblings from me...

There is a distinct perception among your office-bound colleagues that your day is spent watching Oprah and eating bon-bons. Or watching porn with a six-pack of PBR.... either way, a glamorous, relaxing life is presumed.

You don't enjoy the natural rhythms of an office - knowing that it must be noon if the office is clearing out for lunch. Knowing that it must be Friday since everyone is talking about last night's episode of The Office or knowing that it's time to quit working because everyone is gone....

But the worst part of working from home is the alone time. As a full-time mom, full-time wife and full-time employee, "Me" time is hard to come by. So working from home, ALONE, would be perfect, right? One would think.... until things start getting weird. Like when I'm sure I know what the dog is thinking. When I know the comings and goings of all of my neighbors and when getting the mail is the biggest chore of the day, then I know I'm HouseQueer.

From Before