Friday's My Savior

My staff have been sick. I am pretty sure despite my excessive intake of vitamin c, I'm getting something, too.

We moved a mouse with us. In my infinite wisdom I snatched a couple of more traps from the old place and set them up in the new place. Okay, the mouse poop after a couple of days in the new place tipped me off. The little bastard is dead now. I'll keep up the vigilance to be safe. Ugh.

The boy starts to get busy this week with performances. Two on Saturday, one on Sunday, several during the week through the last week of December. Singing plus acting and martial arts (even if it is the after school program) is too much.

My sleep has been good. This morning was an anomaly - the pitter patter of rain woke me at about 4 or so. My dreams of joyfully and contentedly working as a retail clerk at Fred Meyer and my busy thoughts about our holiday gift program that is woefully underfunded and fraught with structural troubles kept me up.

My health is tenuous - the cold and the lady troubles are tiresome as is work and our extra curricular activities. Friday is my savior because I'll get at least a minute to clean the house and relax.

Energy

Until we moved, I was sure that my sleep problems were all about me. Peri-menopause, stress, anxiety, any number of things. Since we moved, however, I have come to realize that the energy at the other place was simply flawed, wrong, not conducive to sleep. The two together were a recipe for exhaustion.

At 3003 I've slept soundly just about every night. The first few days, maybe a week, I couldn't get enough - 12+ hours some nights. Now, about 3 weeks in, it seems like sleep is the new normal.

Amazingly, I have felt more clarity, albeit a very little bit, to not only see what is lacking or needed, but to actually devise a thought about how to deal with it, change it, make it better. It could be that Mercury has gone direct in the past few days... Whatever, I'm feeling and sensing things differently than I have in a while.

The sense of hope is comforting.

Manifesto

I have some catch-up work to do - for me. My body, my mind, my soul is in need. In need of something different.

You manifest that which you think and give energy to. I have lately been spending time on the wrong things and then I notice that panicky feeling. It just occurred to me while writing this. It is time to notice that which makes me uncomfortable so that I can change it - panic and its relatives do not serve my higher calling.

The boy begins performances this week and I'm glad. The hour or so waiting, if I can force myself to stay in the car as opposed to watching, can be exclusively "me" time. I miss me. Me looks forward to some alone time with our thoughts.

Things have been culled, paired down, reorganized. It is lighter now. It is time. Me.

So Close

This move has been painfully slow. While there were definitely some off days, we've been at it for almost 12 days now.

Wood checked out about a week ago. His back has been bothering him something feirce since the biggest push took place that first Friday. Even after the yard sale we had tons of stuff left over. I gave oodles of it to the art teacher, I offered it up for free to anyone who would listen (although, Bam was the real pusher of goods, asking people over and over again if they'd take the damned fish tank), to no avail.

Thank goodness I asked for help from a colleague's boyfriend who works evenings - both for that first day and yesterday. He and Wood did the heavy lifting oh, so-long ago and Boyfriend and two of his young-buck friends got the rest out last night.

I tried so hard to get a local agency to pick up the leftovers, an agency that isn't Goodwill, isn't Salvation Army. I tried with an email and a phone call but they were completely unresponsive. Frustrating as all get out, I tell you! 1. I wanted to do a good thing and 2. It is an agency I come into contact with at work. In the end it was donated and I have my tax deduction receipt, which was the goal. I now know - for next time.

I'm overflowing with thankfulness for the help of Boyfriend and his friends (and Bam, she leaves super early in the morning and we didn't get a lot of down time...I was quite annoyed with her. Can you say PMS? And we didn't really get to the crocheting lesson I specifically asked for. Oh, well.) - all that is left is the fish tank and sewing machine stand, and a plant. Of course, there is a little bit of cleaning that needs to be done. But I stress the little bit. My mom rocked the cleaning part! She was a lifesaver again, I tell  you.

We should be out of there a day early. It's so close I can taste it.

Exhausted

So tired at the end of the day that bed time has been insanely early. As in 7pm. I can't function in the early evening so I just climb into bed and fall fast asleep.

Until about 3am. But I'll do a few things and in another 30 minutes or so, go back to sleep until about 7.

There are plenty of reasons to be so beat... Moving, medicine, my female cycle and the new moon. Stress and too many things on my plate...

Ok, just thinking about all of that stuff, I'm tired again.

Home Sweet Home

The move to our new house is, for all intents and purposes, done. We spent all of Friday, part of Saturday and a lot of Monday schlepping our stuff from one place to the other. Of course, we still have to sell or donate all of the stuff we left behind but it will happen, there is an overlap of the two places for a reason! 

I have this to say about the new place: I LOVE it!

You know how when the universe has aligned the stars for you, thing(s) work out as they should and you feel good? That's how I feel now. Since grandma move out it feels as though things are settling, we are able to do what we want (and need) to do, as if things are right and we are finally home again. I haven't felt comfort like, nor the energy to care for myself much, since the move to Portland. Ah, the shift.

Today's the Day

We move today. We aren't at all prepared. We collected some boxes and I started to cull through stuff but don't have as much time as I'd like between work, Twig, the school auction and the limited amount of sleep that I do get. I took yesterday off to pack and prepare but I got completely derailed by an auction meeting, a doctor appointment, boychoir, and work.

Speaking of the doctor... A new ob/gyn since we moved to he lovely state of Oregon. My first visit, of course, on an urgent basis. Turns out I've got excema and exceptionally mild but likely chronic yeast in me nether regions. When I say the words, not for internet consumption, I can't do so without laughing. It sounds funny, sure. It hurts like a bee-atch! With some heavy duty cortisone type cream and 6 weeks of diflucan (okay, okay, and some dietary and exercise changes), I'll be good as new in nothing flat. Sorry for the TMI, but hey, this isn't exactly Facebook. But it may go to why I feel generally like Crap these days - headaches, hair falling out like mad, pimples (Huh? I'm in my mid 40's), achy, tired, etc.

So, Twig is frightened of the move (everything, really these days) so my goal will be to get his room completely set up before he comes home tonight. Other than that, my only plan is to have the guys move the heavy stuff. The rest can be moved one car load at a time - we don't have to be out of here until the 21st and my mom will be here for the next 10 days. Thank goodness!

Okay, its 6 am. I feel like I need to get moving. Can't imagine why.

Nine Days

We move in nine days. I am excited for this new phase partly because of the mouse issue we are experiencing and because we will be purging a bunch of stuff in the process. Oh, and Bam is headed up for a visit, too. She's always such a big help in times like these.

I'm kind of cranky today. Turns out I have such little energy to do the stuff that needs to be done and I find myself doing everything but what needs to be done when I am doing something. Right now is a perfect example. I should be working but I'm in the bathroom (doing real business) and blogging.

I'm taking 3 days off of work for the move and I can't wait!

First Full Weekend

We had our first full weekend of being normal this weekend. It wasn't really normal given that Wood was out of town but we didn't have an appointment at 10am Saturday and we weren't bound by grandmas needs. It was nice, especially since Twig had an impromptu sleepover and I was able to behave like an adult in my own home. Weird. Luxurious. We're falling into our own lives again quite easily and that is good.

Hopes

I won't miss my upstairs neighbors moaning and groaning, his middle of the night antics, and the generally difficult-to-share-common walls stuff that comes up in multiple unit buildings.

I will also not miss having to gather utilities money from the two neighbors and having to berate the landlord to fix water leaks, ant or mice problems. And find dead mice in my kitchen anyway.

The owners of the new place clearly care about their property and the exterior is clean (!). The interior is just fine and although there are some very minor uglies (stained linoleum), the place will be great. I sure hope the new kitchen counter material they're installing is nice and that the upstairs neighbors and their two year old don't dance and sing too loudly at times of the day that doesn't work for us. I hope that the new apartment building that's soon to be under construction doesn't ruin the parking set up in the neighborhood too badly.

I hope the move goes fast and easy and that my body doesn't retaliate too much.

I'm sort of excited for the change. It's kinda like a fresh start. We need that.

3003

Would be the house number. If all goes as planned, we'll have yet another apartment. Not as close to school but close enough and the price is really right. Plus it's just enough space for us. And since I've been telling Wood for months that unloading e v e r y t h i n g is a good idea and he's called my bluff, it is also a chance to go really minimalist. I mean open the door and sell all of it. Except the absolute necessities. It sounds so light and lovely. Definitely another resart. We shall see.

Early

Went to sleep late, woke up early. Completely unencumbered, alone in the house with my husband (Twig is on a sleepover), the new-normal quiet is going to take a minute to get used to.

I'm excited about the prospect of future early mornings - gym visits a few days a week. Once Wood gets back from his upcoming work travels anyway. Not sure I can sneak in a workout during the day. It always takes longer than I expect it to.

Maybe I'll get my true early morning get up and go body back once the workouts begin. I'm hoping that exercise is the magic bullet.

Loss

Grandma has moved into her new place. It was the fastest move I've ever done. Really, 3 hours from beginning to end - packing plus a break for coffee and pie, transportation, unpacking and hanging pictures.

Funny that someone's life can be distilled into one little room and contained on a piece of paper. One piece of paper. Maybe ironic is a better choice of words.

I cried several times today. My emotions are quite palpable lately. For no reason that I can name, I was overwhelmed with emotion and couldn't hold back the tears. I swear I'm having perimenopause because I feel so out of control - euphoric to psychotic in seconds and for no reason.

Alzheimer's disease is cruel. And with all of the deterioration painful. It makes me question so many things about our world, our environment, our morals and ethics as a society and as individuals. Why, for instance, do we slow down the progression of the disease when it is so debilitating, so unlikely that there is much that the person can contribute? Is contribution all that matters? What is the point?

I hate that my mother in law is sick with this disease. That she is suffering in this way. That I didn't get to know her before she was sick. That not knowing, and her not telling, made it seem as though we were at odds with one another. That she lived with us. That she no longer lives with us. That I wasn't as good as other people are at caring for others. That Twig and she, that Wood and me are all feeling a loss. That we know nothing more than we did this morning about what the rest of her life will be.

On the other hand, we have regained some flexibility in our lives. I'll be able to get to work on time. We won't have to rush home after work. Weekends can be spent as a threesome instead of two dueces - dividing and conquering everything. More flexibility in where we go, how long we spend there. No administration of meds, no caregiver in my house (although she was a godsend and I never minded her being there), no more hiding the toilet paper so grandma wouldn't over use, leave bits behind and get bladder infections. No more of the day to day responsibility - but continued obligation. That never goes away.

I care deeply for her and want only the best for her. I wish for her peace, tranquility, and a death (I'm feeling callous for even saying that - she could live for 10 years or more...) that is speedy and pain free. Until then I want her to be happy with her new family/caretakers. They are good people.

Have I mentioned lately that being a grown up is kind of crappy? I kind of would rather be 8 years old.

Noises

I'd like to think that I hear noises around me and that's what wake me but the truth is what I hear probably happens only in my head. Something arouses me and the brain starts moving and soon enough is working overtime.

I was dreaming, about something decent, when I was suddenly wide awake at 2am this morning. The voices in my head are questioning many of my moves - past and future - and it is disconcerting.

Working on this fundraiser is like a massive group project in college...there are helpers and hinderers and all this togetherness with people I haven't chosen is leaving me feeling like I'm a) not doing enough b) doing what I am doing incorrectly c) not liked by the people I'm working closely with d) being purposefully left out of the loop e) not doing a good job. Or everything, then some, all mashed up at the same time.

My confidence is feeling quite fragile - probably because I'm slightly out of my element - and its taking a lot of energy to keep myself in check. I'm trying to remember that my skill set is mine and I shouldn't be apologetic (with myself or others) for what I'm good at; I should embrace what I'm good at, present it as so and take whatever lumps come my way. There are always lumps. They're just hidden from plain sight so I don't always know about them. Or maybe I need to cool it - no lumps, no feeling badly, just work. Git'er done.

I don't know; tired now and need to get back to sleep. It's just that the house is quiet and dark and being awake now is almost like being alone. I miss being alone when I need to catch up with myself and tame the chatter.

Fighting

Over dumb stuff.

I hold it in, my frustration with Woods dealing with his frustration. It feels lime his anger is directed at us. I ignore, redirect, ask questions. All efforts are ignored. Then I get mad and open up. It makes him mad, which makes me more mad. And so the cycle goes. Blame, blame, blame.

What can I do to talk and not make him angrier? Even he doesn't know. What can he do to make me feel less ignored? Pay attention to and acknowledge his feelings before making us feel the way he does.

Ugh. I knew this early on and chose him anyway. Truth is, it was something I was aware that would be hard for me. I didn't realize how hard, particularly at times like these.

Grinding

She's constantly grinding her teeth. Or smacking her gums. For no apparent reason. And yes, at non-mealtimes.

It's one of those noise, habit thingies like when Bam wiggles her foot. You know that nervous foot wagging thing some people do? Makes me INSANE. This teeth business Grandma is doing is also making me crazy.

She's not doing it on purpose. When we ask her to stop, she doesn't. Actually, she can't. Nonetheless, crazymaking.

I'll call the doctor and ask about it. Apparently it's common for people with Alzheimers and sometimes exacerbated by certain meds, one of which she's taking.

Ugh.

Ch, ch, ch, change...

My boy turned 8 last week (happy anniversary, Paula!) and I had some serious feelings about it. Lots of emotion and heavy tears for, well, I'm not sure exactly what - besides the overwhelming feelings I have for the child. Probably all of my hopes and dreams wrapped up in the promise that is him.

Grandma is moving to an adult foster home in a couple of weeks - we have gotten back on track because in reality it was never her choice to live with us any more than it was our choice to have her live with us. It was necessary and we did the right thing at the time. We all have some mixed feelings about the change. It seems like we just got used to her living with us. To our new place. She'll move. And we'll probably move too.

Lots on the horizon.

Bad Dreams

They've been too common lately.

Last week I as being followed as in stalked. Today Twig was taken and had his passport with him.

Both times the dreams lasted a fair amount of time and I processed a bit of the "problem". Not quite to the preferred conclusion.

I woke up afraid and now wonder about the deeper meanings.

More Four Day Weekends, Please!

There is one great thing about working for a Jewish organization and not being Jewish. Religious holidays.

Monday and Tuesday were days off in observance of Rosh Hashana (L'Shana Tova, Happy New Year!) and exquisite days off for me. Granted, all I did was catch up on the chores of life. But I did so with NO distractions.

Monday I mostly sat around (did a couple of loads of laundry and a bit of shopping) watching cooking tv. Tuesday I did all of the things I felt like I was neglecting on Monday while I sat on the couch. It was nice to be unencumbered for a bit.

Although, by the end of the day Tuesday I was feeling a bit lonely and was reminded that I don't want to be at home full time, a little more time at home alone would be welcomed. I need to plan 4 day weekends more often.

Flit & Flitter

School is back in session and my support network, at least around the kid is in place again!

Boychoir started this week and he's pretty jazzed about singing.

Twig was invited to be in an acting troupe again and we signed him up for the whole year. That means now through Christmas is booked every Saturday except maybe for Thanksgiving weekend and starting right after Thanksgiving, every weeknight and weekend there's a performance. The same in the spring. But he loves it - and frankly I do too.

I signed on to be the co-chair of Twig's school's annual auction. It wasn't entirely the wine talking, either. It's part of my master plan to be an Executive Director in my next job. Doing this will give me fundraising experience that isn't currently on my resume. See, bigger purpose. And, yes, crazy.

We are looking at a house to potentially rent in the morning. It's 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. Two doors away from us. It's also considerably cheaper than what we pay now. I hope it could work and can't stand the idea of moving. Plus we started looking at care homes for Grandma. After the $4500 base price was revealed, we realized that we might have to find a bigger house for more rent and hire somebody to live in and care for her. Her needs will change (increase) and her income won't. Somehow having Choir and acting and the auction to think about makes grandma's stuff easier to think about.

That's it. I woke up early full of energy and I'm tired again.

Insomniac - Still

My back wakes me.

Pain keeps me up. The TV helps quiet my mind.

Sleepless nights make for a long and not super productive work day, that's for sure. It's kinda like being a new mom. Surprising what can be accomplished when exhausted.

Now to get a couple of z's in the hopes that they'll be enough to get me through the week.

Yawn.

Over It

The snarky, snotty comments.

Shitty tone.

Dirty looks.

Rude comments.

"Reaaaallyyyyy?"

Attitude for no reason.

Passive aggressive bullshit.

So I put it out there tonight. To Wood: What's wrong? You've been pissy and you're taking it out on me. I don't appreciate it.

To Twig: If you continue talking that way to me, and the facial mime is included in talking, the consequence is that I will not speak to you for an entire day. AN ENTIRE DAY.

To Wood: This is about you being mad and taking it out on me. This is about Twig talking to me VERY disrespectfully. AND I DON'T LIKE IT. I don't like the way YOU talk to me half the time. And I'm sick of it. Angry about it.

Taking a time out: Thinking about no dirty looks, no backhanded comments, no snark. Being straight forward, to the point, yelling because I'm angry.

Ugh!

Body & Mind

Things have calmed down here at Chez Wonelle. Wood and I have, for the time being, had our talks and put aside our hurt and anger. Things are better in that regard.

My body, on the other hand is still pissed off, and letting me know it. My feet hurt so badly when I stand up that limping doesn't even help. And my lower back is periodically warning of a complete strike. I don't ever get used to the idea that I can't will things to be as I want them to be anymore.

Wood and I have agreed to stop drinking for a while. He's asked me to try to focus on more vegetarian meals. I've had so little energy that I've slacked in the food depatment and the effects are showing. I've been gaining weight. All of that self medicating adds up in the calorie department and on the scale.

We also have an appointment with a counselor. We are a great team and we know what to do (mostly) but just like championship sports teams, we need a coach. So there it is.

Healthy food to nourish the body. Help with the mind. We're in it to win it.

Still Angry

He came home drunk. Talking about how things are tough.

I was fuming and didn't let it go too easily. My jealousy, so foreign a feeling, reared its ugly head some more. I don't get his disappointment in her leaving. I also think he's taking things -all things- out on me. I'm not interested.

Once he passed out, I got up and stayed awake until the wee hours of the night. Did some work, watched tv, wondered what it was all about.

Woke up this morning to more apologies. I'm just not there. He stayed home sick today. I worked from home for a while in the morning. He asked for sex. I flatly refused. Gave him his dry toast as requested and said goodbye.

I'm still hurt. More than ever before in this relationship. He's got some work to do. Me, too.

Jealous

One evening last week, Wood called me and chatted me up a bit. He asked how I was doing, how was my day - and I told him. I was stressed, behind in my work, and I'd had a headache for days. In the end, he said a friend of his from work was considering a job in Los Angeles who wanted his advice and said he wanted to hang out with her, could I get Twig from camp?

It was like a lightning strike, the overwhelming feeling of jealousy that overtook me. I wondered who was this woman who wanted his advice. Who was this woman that he wanted to give advice - and spend time with. But I didn't say anything about it. The truth was, I wasn't feeling well and I said so. He understood and decided to stay home.

The feelings continued - or at least the thoughts did - and I have spent the last couple of weeks thinking about why I felt jealous. It's not my normal way of being in my relationship, particularly with Wood.. Is it because he and I aren't able to spend time together? Because we have such serious issues we are dealing with? That because I wonder if someone else has something better to offer? That because I'm unhappy so he must be, too?

When I came home later than usual tonight, he was upset with me. He approached the discussion in a way that would seem that he was worried that I was putting in too much time. When I expressed that I thought he was trying to be supportive of me and ensure I am not overdoing things with regard to work, I explained that the reality is that when I go to work at 9:30 and leave for nearly an hour in the middle of the day, I must stay to get my work done. He barked at me and said that since I hold his feet to the fire, he was going to be my advocate.

Shortly thereafter, he tossed his phone onto the table in a fit of anger. When asked, he said that he was upset because his friend had decided to leave. After a bit more discussion, he said that they were "at the bar" and he was going to go. Again, that jealousy feeling. Again nothing said by me.

Twig was asking if he could go outside to play the trumpet, and got upset when I said no. Then Wood got upset at me for saying so. Then I wasn't listening to him and then he stormed out on me. And I'm mad. M A D. He was being a disrespectful asshole. I don't like him much right now. At all. And I want to tell him so.

Television

There's a television advertisement that comes to mind a lot lately. You see people not smiling at their dog, alone and laying on the couch, and in both cases, looking very despondent. The refrain goes something like "depression hurts, xyz drug can help."

I've been thinking of this commercial a lot because it seems lately as though everything hurts. Everything. My shoulders are tight, lower back acts like its gonna give out at any time, I've got consistent headaches and stomach aches and my bum and the bottom of my feet hurt whenever I stand up. All I want to do is sleep. And if I can't sleep, I want to eat comfort food - potatoes, mac and cheese, burgers and fries, chocolate and caramel, or coffee.

I said in a recent post that I haven't felt like this since Twig was a baby and I had postpartum depression quite severely. It is true now, too. Except the postpartum piece, of course. (Ha!)
The part of this commercial coming to mind that is interesting to me is that I am noticing these symptoms for what I believe they are (I should see the doctor about the headaches -okay everything- just to be safe but I had a physical a couple of months ago and I got a mostly clean bill of health, save the fat cysts and spots on my skin that I need to have checked regularly. Ah to have no olive tones.). While I don't typically like anything advertising stands for, this commercial has been helpful in making my mind aware.

A friend, who is so lovely and wise and spiritual, recently noticed my sadness and reminded me that "it" doesn't have to be this way. The simple sentence in her text reminded me that I am an agent of change. That changing myself and others, systems, beliefs, this is my purpose on this earth.

She suggested that I map out what I want. With big sheets of butcher paper and colored pens, to write my story - to change the course, set my own stage  with my own story, actors, ending(s) - to let the universe know my intentions. It will give me what I need and want - when it is the right time.

Knowing why I hurt is half of the battle. Being reminded that I am an agent of change and the maker of my destiny is part of the strategy. With the help of a television advertisement (and a great friend), now I can do get back to making change.

Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned

Turns out that confession is the best route to giving up on the junk food and crazy feelings of complete and utter self-loathing. Unfortunately, I had to confess to a number of people throughout the week to begin to feel normal again.

But it worked. That's all that matters, right?

The intriguing part of this story is that I was beating myself up for wanting to walk out on my family - my life actually, and that in those moments when I said it out loud, for fear that if I didn't speak Truthfully I really would leave - when I got to telling the person closest to me I learned that he feels the same time - often.

In my distress Wood was supportive and kind. I was rather a hot mess.

Over the weekend he let me sit on my lazy butt and do nothing. I say "let" because he didn't fight too much about what he needed to do in my absence. It's been tough but I've been forcing him more often to step up and take charge of things when I know I can't.

I'm not bingeing on junk food like I was last week. I'm not eating perfectly but I'm on a path toward better. The Boy and I went to the store today - he helped bag all of the groceries AND carry them to the car.



It's the little things that help me to feel whole.

Wrecked

The week has been full of emotional turmoil. The fantasy about walking out on my family was so intense - leading up to it and afterward - that I fell hard into old bad food habits - before and afterward - just to keep functioning.

Monday morning I spent nearly $25 on candy and junk food for the office. Twinkies, Ho-Ho's, peanut butter cups, Rolo's, and Milky Way's. Ugh. Just the act of seeing it in print makes my stomach flip-flop and my skin crawl. By Wednesday morning I'd eaten half of the Twinkies AND Ho-Ho's so I relinquished the rest to a colleague and asked that he require me to have a mini counseling session in order to get something from the box 'o junk food. Since this conversation was in front of several colleagues, I also said "save me from myself". They were given the green light to tease about how the box of junk food was organized by type of junk.

Another colleague walked up on the tail end of the conversation and looked at me as if she was sure I'd already gone mad. Which of course, I explained that I had, and then proceeded to confess that the candy was a futile attempt to stave off bad thoughts - sugar being my drug of choice - about the fantasy in which I walked away from my family with no regard for anything but my own mental health (gasp!). The confession happened to coincide with my office having lost power so I couldn't work anyway - although I kept 4 other people from working for several minutes - and as I explained, if I didn't say it out loud, I was quite certain that it would come to be that the family I worked so hard to have simply disintegrated because of my lack of clarity lately.

By Friday I had polished off an entire bag each of Rolo's and Milky Way. As one colleague, who wasn't privy to the confession on Wednesday morning, so aptly put it when she saw how I'd finished it all off: "you have a serious problem". I explained it was serious mental issues.

I am pretty clear that I've completely screwed my body. The headaches started before the candy but the candy certainly hasn't been making things better. And to think, a year ago I was eating Clean every day of the week. I was probably at the pinnacle of my healthful self then. Now I'm just a walking chemical.

Sugar has always been my go-to food in times of stress - since I was about 8 or so and could make my own bowls of cereal I piled it on. To the point that there were spoonfuls of gritty sugar at the bottom of each bowl. Apparently eating the stuff makes one feel good. I learned from the best - how to binge AND hide it in plain view. My mom would binge at dinner and purge while doing the dishes. At every meal, actually. I was taught only the binge part (thank goodness, I think.) but realize its not serving me well. My body doesn't feel good. I've got swelling feet and hands, arthritic fingers, poor sleep and digestion and roller coaster emotions. Granted I'm not sure if the roller coaster emotions are the chicken or the egg... but I know the food, which I have been really disregarding, is a sign.

I've not felt depression like this since Twig came into my life. Not only during my pregnancy with him but also during his first several years of life. Never before or since that time in my life have I craved chocolate and avocado, nor have I felt so out of control of my food consumption. Out of control, period.

Wrecked is how I feel right now. And as much as I know what I need to do...

It Continues To Grow

That alien feeling in my chest...

I want to stay in bed, take a shower, sleep for days. This morning I fantasized about getting out of bed and leaving. Wood at work already; Twig and Grandma asleep still. No phone, no keys, no shoes or wallet. Just leaving. Walking, running, riding my bike - as fast as I could. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but these feelings.

If wearing the same pants for three days in a row, crying for no apparent good reason, tight painful shoulders, constant headaches, and a penchant only for coffee, twinkies (no joke), and chocolate is a sign - not to mention the running away fantasy - I need something.

Telling myself I can get through it helps only for a millisecond.

The alien is trying to take me over and I'm considering letting it do exactly that.

Oops!

So, I had this phone interview on Monday. Pretty cool. I wasn't really nervous during the conversation, save the few times that I had zero word recall and kept bumbling when things wouldn't come out of my mouth.

It seemed that I gave a fair representation of myself - what's important to me, who I am and such. In retrospect, I could have sold myself a bit better, been a bit more polished, had clearer answers to the questions.

Interviews are such crappy tests. They don't really give credence to who people are in their day to day lives. Some people test well. Some people don't. It's not indicative of who people are - what they have done or can do.

I decided to send an email note to thank the interviewer for the time spent on me. Here's what it said:

"Thank you for talking with me about the ...(title)... position and ...(organization)... earlier this week. I sincerely appreciate your time and consideration, and look forward to the possibility of talking to you again in the near future." 

Perfectly good email. Short, sweet and to the point. Respectful. I thought it was great. Stared at it for several minutes wondering if it was okay. I finally hit send and thought "Done".

It hit me about 15 minutes ago - the title of the email was "Tuesday Phone Interview". 

The interview was on Monday.

Doh!

If I get a face to face interview, I'll be very surprised. Maybe the mistake won't be noticed. Maybe it won't be relevant - all other things being equal.

I'm trying to get to space cadet - que sera sera - and I'm not telling anyone but you.

Queen Crankypants

There's this feeling just below the surface of my chest, kinda close to the heart that is tight, full, and feels like it's ready to climb out and consume everyone in sight. The consumption will be in an alien-esque way - kinda gross and definitely gory.

This weird combination animal is a combination of insecure, sad,overwhelmed, confused, and tired. It doesn't even know what it is. Lately it has been heavy and taking over a bit of my sunny disposition each day.

I need to slay this monster and right quick. Any thoughts?

Confidence

What is it about an interview that can make my confidence plummet to levels not seen since my pre-pubescent years?

Perhaps it's the issue of being last on the field to be chosen. The fact that stumbling over your words is embarrassing. Or that moving on to the next adventure is in my play book - but not necessarily the universe's.

In the end being true to ones own self is monumentally important. I was true to myself today. If I get called to a face-to-face interview, I'll be pleased. If I don't, I'll be disappointed but aware that there are other lessons to learn now. I'll do my best to focus on the positives of the here and now. And learn the lessons I'm supposed to learn.

And remember that I'm pretty hot stuff.

Disinterest

My head has been bothering me all week. A bit dizzy here and there. Sometimes a headache. Congestion periodically.

Thursday whatever it was made it impossible to function so almost as soon as I got to work, I turned around and went home. Slept for several hours and felt better on Friday. Not normal but better.

This weekend the strange symptoms haven't subsided, even with pseudoephedrine, advil, and as of today, saline nasal rinse. I'm feeling tired and disinterested in the 587 chores that need doing. My attitude stinks - the work that I tried to complete took too long and was overly complicated - I got angry and had a bit of a tantrum. Not toward anyone, just a feeling of sheer frustration.

It's not allergies - the allergist said that allergy tests were all negative. That explains why the allergy meds aren't working. I'm probably just tired. Whatever.

Yes!

Only you, Wood and the woman who will call me knows that I have a phone INTERVIEW Monday afternoon. Eeee!

As of yesterday, my boss probably has an idea that almost everyone in the office thinks she's leading the ship to sink. And as exciting a time as this could be (strategic planning), as long as she's at the helm, I think it's never going to be the right place for me. I want more opportunity and less Crap.

Monday may not pan out but that doesn't matter right now. There's hope.

Old vs. Young

I am:

-an incredibly bright shade of white - glow in the dark white according to Auntie Slam

-not a slave to fashion - I like what is comfortable and my sense of style is, well, all my own thank you very much

-prematurely grey - I had my first grey hair at age 16 and nope, I don't color my long, very silver hair

- the owner of a big, round, plump ass, size D breasts (that I used to feed my kid for 3 years)

- over age 40 and GLAD to be - I'm finally somewhat mature

- accepting of myself just the way I am

But every now and again, something happens and I become

- mildly annoyed by the young blonde, buxom, bronze twenty-something who looked at me with disgust and pity while grocery shopping

Little girl, you can kiss my big, fat, lilly-white ass. You don't know shit. And I say so because when I was 20-something I didn't know shit, either.

Tuesday Tinkerings

The business of being grown up is cut-throat hard core, I say.

The business of parenting, even tougher.

I refuse to apologize for being the parent in this household. Particularly when I do not make mistakes, when I am simply setting boundaries and sticking them. "Bad Mom" and "You are so mean" now glide off of me like water on a birds feather.

With the help of an amazing child psychologist who has the testosterone to whip my child into submission with a mere inflection of his voice, I will be the Alpha Mom. I am the Alpha Mom and my child now knows it.

I am bossy and in charge - I know this is something I must own in every fiber of my being. All the time.

"I Hate Dr. S, I will never go back! You can't make me!" is music to my ears. I know its scary to hear that things aren't okay the way they are, that I am the parent, the one in charge, and that you will lose some privileges and power in this exchange. In the end though, you'll be much happier for it my sweet child.

This is my issue (and in part, Wood's, too) - my personal experience with other people being physically aggressive toward me, taking my power, controlling me. I know it and I have been fighting, albeit quite silently, against fighting at home. In the end, it has made us fight more.

Demon fighting, still, I am. Difference now is, I've never been less afraid of the battle.

The privilege of being a grown up and a parent is on the line.

Truth

I'm Tired

This week is turning out to be tougher than the last three combined. Work is off the hook busy with big projects and Twig is acting The Fool morning, noon and night.

Work is work is work. It feels manageable although there's too much. My newest staff person (acquired, not hired by me) may have finally gotten the point that she needs to buck up and play by my rules - for her own good - as I've been asked to take the reigns and direct the ship. More importantly, my boss is allowing me to be the Director lately and that is helpful. Autonomy is very appealing and when I have it, I produce amazing things.

Twig, on the other hand, is pushing Wood and me -mostly me- beyond our capacities. He's very often acting like an enraged and caged hippopotamus. He's overly angry when he doesn't get his way. Usually taking it out on me. Last night he charged me with his hula hoop because it was time to come in - and after being asked and ignoring me three times, lost his kung fu class. Tonight it was because he refused to eat his dinner and didn't get dessert as a result. For that I got punched in the chest.

BUT... he went to his room, came out and finished eating because he knows I mean business. He had his dessert. I didn't get an apology. But it's PENETRATING his brain! I have renewed faith. Last nights clarity that I did nothing wrong and would not feel guilty really helped!

Decisions, Decisions

People have to make a million decisions every day. To get out of bed, what to wear, what to eat, which route to travel to the office, what to eat. Underneath each of those decisions is a kajillion other decisions that we don't even acknowledge that we make.

This knowledge may make some people feel comfortable. Apparently, I'm not some people. Okay, even I know I'm not some people. But, still, decisions are becoming freakishly hard for me to make.

Particularly when it comes to business at "home", I'm not confident. To sign the Property Management Agreement(s) or not?  All that legal mumbo-jumbo is nerve wracking. Especially since we just got out of a very expensive legal mumbo-jumbo related to our home.

Wood says it's now a business transaction. No feelings.

Obviously, to sign the agreement. However, not without a LOT of angst.

Blue

Sad, full moon, mercury in retrograde hormonal fluctuations of the grandest proportions blues.

These last few days I have felt equally powerful and an utter failure to be all the things I swore I'd be when I was a kid: happy, not a mean parent, cool, hip, and awesome.

Yep. Only you know it. Oh, wait. I accidentally posted that on Facebook this morning. And outed my family in the process.

Going to bed now.

We're both feeling better this morning. Twig is still sleeping so his attitude is yet to be seen.

I get so many people expecting me to take on their feelings and fix situations at work, I'm beat when I get home and when my husband, his mother, and my child expect me to fix their problems, too, I kinda lose it. Truth is, I'm reaching my limit and it's showing.

Wood's probably past his. And it shows.

I'm boss, for sure, but I have to do a better job of taking responsibility for myself. And the people around me need to do the same. Wood knows it.

Fighting (A Rant)

It's so tough to fight with the closest ally in your camp. I mean really, we're all tired, playing the same stupid games, and ultimately working toward the same goal. Right?

It would seem, this evening anyway, that we were not on the same team. We are transitioning to a new "routine" and this has Wood quite tense. It takes him some time to adjust.

Mornings go something like this: 

5am Wood wakes; shower, coffee, breakfast, etc.

6am Wood leaves

7am Twig and Wonelle wake up; Wonelle makes breakfast, lunch, dinner, cleans up from yesterday's leftover lunch or dinner dishes in the kitchen. Wakes grandma, gets her medicine and heating pad together, ensures she brushes her teeth, and is ready for the bus when it arrives. Ensures Twig is dressed, teeth brushed, clean clothes, food, lunch, etc. and gets him to his day activity du jour as close to on time as possible. Arrives to work, on average, 30 minutes late.

It used to be that Wonelle also rushed from work at 5pm to pick up Twig from his day activity and was home by the time Grandma made it home so that she could get dinner ready for everyone, too. But as of last week, Wood is the adult in charge for the evening pick up and meet grandma at home routine. No, he doesn't have to cook dinner. I typically have that arranged for him - all he has to do is heat it up when he gets home and serve it. I now leave the office at 6 so that I'm ensuring I've put in my full 8 hours per day. 

He and Twig arrived home after I did tonight. This leads me to believe he's working more than he should be. But I digress.

After this evening's Complete and Total Breakdown about what's happening at Acting camp this week (read: it's not going the way Twig thinks it should and he's not the center of attention so he's disappointed and waiting until he gets home to explode at me about it), I made dinner...when it was time for Twig to hit the sack, Wood exclaimed something to the effect of "I don't want to put him to sleep". But, because I don't "offer" to put the boy to sleep, we get into a fight instead. About what? Wood doesn't want to stay in the bed after he's finished reading to wait for him to fall asleep because Wood always falls asleep too and when he does, his back hurts. And, rightfully (no really, I'm not being sarcastic here), he doesn't like that.

But, I am at a loss for what it is that I should do. He didn't and doesn't ask me to do something before the situation occurs. He makes blanket statements about how things will and won't be. And then gets mad at me for his being the responsible adult in charge - for not taking charge of his feelings, I guess.

I believe my response to him tonight was "I can't be responsible for the morning and evening routines; it's too much." 

So it turns out we fought about his feelings about what it takes to get our child to sleep. And how he doesn't want to do it. And I probably shouldn't have said, in response to his frustration about him having done this evening routine for months and months (and months), that I did it for years. That wasn't helpful. But it is true. 

And I'm not terribly sympathetic. I got yelled at, screamed at, punched, sassed and finally kicked in the knee this morning during the hour long temper tantrum about washing hands and flushing the toilet. 

I'm not parenting my husband. If he needs something, he needs to ask for it directly and succinctly. No beating around the fucking bush. Mean what you say and say what you mean. 

We're in it together. Do your part when you're called upon. It's not always going to be split 50/50. Suck it up. Or fight. 

He Said It

At the end of June, Wood and I were to meet with the Palliative Care Nurse that we were referred to by Grandma's doctor. Unfortunately, it was scheduled the day I had my emergency appendectomy, we had to cancel at the last minute. We finally had the meeting, with all three of us (Twig was at camp), a couple of weeks ago.

We talked all of the major issues - our stress level, our stress level, and our stress level. We really feel as though her health and lack of interest in anything besides sitting in the chair in the living room hinders our ability to do much. Unless it's a Tuesday or Thursday evening, or a Saturday morning when the Home Care Worker is with her, one of us must be home with her.

She hates to go out to eat unless Wood is there, she doesn't want to take a walk (I'm tired - from sitting?), and asks to leave if we are doing anything other than eating out. It was so difficult during the baseball season; she couldn't sit and watch the game. When Twig was acting with his traveling troupe, Wood and I could only go to a show together if grandma came. And the invitations to visit with friends as a family have lessened significantly because of grandmas needs.

We are tired and continually talk about how it seems that the living situation is good only for her. We all feel resentful of the constraints we are forced to contend with as her caretakers. We felt like having her living with us was the right thing to do. But as of today, Wood said we are starting the process of moving her to a facility.

Strangely enough, I don't feel good about it. But I am looking forward to it.

Time Out

A few weeks ago - actually, over the past few months I noticed that consuming alcoholic beverages was becoming a bit too easy, a bit too frequent, and a regular coping mechanism. At the end of a long day, the first thought on my mind was a drink. I'd pour or Wood would pour, and before you knew it, I'd have tossed back three of the drink du jour. In restaurants I noticed that it would take two of just about anything for me to feel something resembling a buzz.

When I was in the hospital, answering questions about my health status and personal habits, particularly around drinking, I heard myself say "More than two drinks, yes more than two drinks daily." A pregnant pause, no judgement, and... moving right along...

In my morphine mind, I flashed on a conversation with some close friends a couple of months ago. I had expressed my overindulgence as somewhat of a problem and that both Wood and I needed to slow it down. My friend responded, behind a slightly uncomfortable giggle, that if drinking was the only solace we have right now, he encourages drinking - more, in fact.

Right after my surgery, booze was the last thing on my mind. After all, I had been given oxycodone for the pain, and was taking them and tylenol or advil in between doses religiously. I didn't need booze. So, I decided to quit.

The few times I had a grown up silly drink after the surgery, my body retaliated something feirce! Swelling of my hands, feet and face with the consumption of one beer. Roughly the same with wine.

I told Wood I'd climbed on the wagon, to please support me. I told my pals at work. Yep, the body don't like it so I will not be drinking any more. So, I kinda lied; I will have a glass of wine occasionally.

Drinking will no longer be my time out.

The Boy pushed and prodded and rang all of my bells tonight. He wouldn't settle and just wanted to engage me to stay awake. I tried to reason with him. Tried to express my frustration. Kept my cool. It was so hard to keep it together. After about 40 minutes of his shennanegins, I quietly got out of bed, put on my coat, grabbed my phone and keys and told him I was leaving to take a time out from him. That I was upset and I needed to walk away to think about it.

He chased me and said he was coming with me and that I couldn't leave him alone.

I sat on the porch and typed this here blog post on my phone and wondered if the non-alcoholic time out business is really where it's at. It is. And so is the porch.

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Once upon a time there was a little boy who was smart and verbal and very talented at many things. He thought he knew everything there was to know and always felt like adults were bossing him around and doing so for no good reason.

He believed that it was the obligation of everyone around him to cater to his every whim and to wait on him. In particular, his mother was obligated to do his laundry and clean up after him at all times. He answered "No!" to requests to do simple things like clear his dishes from the dinner table "you can't make me!" brush his teeth "It isn't important!", put his dirty clothes in the hamper "it's your fault the dirty clothes are on the floor", and talk respectfully to his parents -"blah, blah, blah, blah" while simultaneously rolling his eyes was his general demeanor inside the house.

While his mother felt an incredible urge to slap him across the face when he did the "blah, blah, blah" business, she refrained. But she was regularly pushed to the brink of her sanity with his indignant, entitled behaviors, especially when he felt it acceptable to raise his hand to her, as if to punch, or on the regular occasion that he ignored "stop" and "no" and continued his annoying behaviors for the sake of attention. 

The "I hate you", "I wish you were dead", and "I want only Dad" remarks were tough to swallow but all part of the package, she recalled from the conversations she'd heard. Nothing made this person listen to anything she said. He was opposite boy - not everyday but on certain days it was beyond intense.

She couldn't grasp when it all began or how it got out of hand (initially or for each instance, that is) much less what to do about it. She tried respectful communications, noticing when he did things the way she expected, paying allowance (for doing what he was *supposed* to do), offering good times and restricting, modeling, and lots of other stuff. None of it worked and she was at a loss (and physical child abuse seemed over the top - but certainly crossed her mind) so she became more restrictive, more punitive, more childlike in her responses. Even that backfired. It would make him acquiesce for a moment or two - to resume his acceptable tone and use of niceties, to be cooperative and helpful even. But the restrictions just made him need her undivided attention even more. And that made her need her independence, his independence, even more. It was an awful combination.

She saw the pattern, understood it in the context of history to some degree, and didn't know how to get her to change it when she was a kid. As an adult, she's still at a loss. She knows he loves her, that intrinsic kind of love a child automatically feels for a parent. But these interactions are weighing heavily upon that love. Canceling it out even - she knows he's beginning, as it happened for her, that he loves her not, and she doesn't know how to fix it.

Oh, Man

I just realized that the start of my period will coincide with the upcoming full moon. It is good I noticed now; I can prepare myself and respond logically instead of emotionally. Mercury retrograde + full moon + menstrual cycle = That week could be epic! Let's make sure its the good kind of epic!

An Apology

Sometimes, especially when Mercury is in retrograde and I've been sleeping much less than normal, I wait to do things like respond to my boss's childish temper tantrum and blaming escapades via email immediately after they take place. It's good to listen to my intuition. Even though I fret about the interaction and disdain for it, and what I should do about it.

I waited to respond. Deleted the email. Stayed up too late. Slept well and woke to a dream, a bad dream? that featured two black cats, one with a broken tail, one that leisurely sat and watched me walk past; an open window on my house, and two black men walking away from my place. It was clear that they had just robbed my house but they were cool so I fumbled with my keys to get in. 


Sometimes I'm not clear about how to handle something - I'm bossy, verging on aggressive sometimes - and this has landed me in hot water a lot in the past.  But at this point in my life I can't afford to be so fiery that it gets in the way of my career and stuff. Besides, my way isn't the only way, and being nice is better than being right. Usually. Except when I'm right. Which is usually. 


Anyway, my boss came into my office first thing this morning and apologized. Fairly profusely, too. She talked about how things have been tough lately. When I agreed and said that this week had been particularly intense for everyone, she responded by telling me that she's been having a shitty year and nearly cried. I feel for the lady, not knowing what is happening in her life, despite my gripes with her, she's a person. But I can set that aside and not get personally involved. 


The conversation that ensued was a darned good one. We talked philosophy, vision, and approach. She heard me loud and clear, and even seemed to respect my view. Particularly when I reminded her that my momentum had to do with her directives. Gosh, she's so difficult to manage.

I'm still working on my resume and cover letter. This place needs much more than I've got the energy for. I ain't young and there's too much other stuff to do.

Work Blues

If it weren't for my staff and a few colleagues, my job would completely suck ass. Right now it only kinda pretty much sucks ass.

My boss is the most emotional, non-planning, play both sides of the fence, talks out both sides of her ass, can't make a decision that doesn't please everyone (or at least her current favorite) or take a clear side, untrusting, doesn't get it, spineless, sometimes obviously lying to get what she wants micromanager I have ever worked with. She flits and flitters all over the place and doesn't get that we're overworked and can't take on a new project. And she certainly doesn't get that we all work our asses off to do good work because we believe in the mission and want the agency to succeed. Hell, she doesn't believe that a mission statement of an agency is supposed to drive decision making, policy and to some extent procedure of said agency. I knew I was getting myself into some funky shit when I began working at this job but this Crap is out of control!

In a management team meeting yesterday we discussed whether a key staff person that heads up a key program over the holidays should be granted 2 weeks vacation during two holiday weeks - yes, the very said busiest time of the year previously mentioned. After some very hearty debate where a majority of the group agreed that if someone has work to do during certain times of the year, they shouldn't ask for and/or be granted time off during the busiest time of the year, my boss completely disagreed - and I believe that she was the only person who did disagree.

It is awful that I feel it necessary to tell someone that they can not take time off at the holidays, particularly when they are planning time away with family, because their job demands their attention during that time of year. But it is completely unfair to expect that the services can be provided without her overseeing them or thay everyone else should be required to pick up the slack. We don't have much wiggle room in our workload to be able to pick up extra tasks. Gawd forbid we want to do at least one thing well each day.

My boss said today, in response to my telling her that the staffer being upset about the decision, she felt the conversation was a bashing session and that I made it about supervision issues that should have been discussed confidentially. She said that she felt it was a punitive decision based on a past mistake and that management team isn't supposed to be about the broader issues that were being discussed. I worked very hard to remove the person from the equation and focus on business need as did the rest of the people who participated in the discussion. And if management team meetings aren't to grapple with bigger policy and operational issues, what is it for?

Ugh. All but this direct report are awesome team players that are supportive of their colleagues, willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done no matter what, to serve the people we serve for the right reason. This vacation person is obstructionist at every turn, gossipy, chatty Cathy, revered by my boss for her loyalty, and a significant pain in my ass. She does decent work but alas, she doesn't get it either.

I need to cover my ass on this one. And let the ones that I really appreciate know how appreciated they are. Because they are the only things making this job semi-palatable.

I Feel a Nervous Breakdown Coming On

That statement has been uttered from these lips a few times over the last couple of weeks. It's one of those things that I preface or end with "If I don't say it out loud, it's sure to come true. This is just my way of keeping myself sane."

No extra time was taken off after the last post about needing more time off to get my head straight. We need the money and my job seems constantly tenuous. Work's usual Crap, being financially flush one day and broke the next, decision making based on emotion rather than a clear set of values or goals, and trying to have everything both ways is driving me absolutely mad. I have to fight to operate in a way that's consistently moral and ethical - as the decisions change based on who you ask on any given day - nothing is written down in a way that provides any clear direction. And I'm more than overwhelmed by the amount of work I have to do. I'm applying for a couple of jobs that look interesting.

I'm struggling with grandma this last week or so. I feel horrible because my thoughts and feelings are oh-so judgmental and not compassionate. She can't help her spinal fracture pain but I often think she's being overly dramatic. I hate that she uses a pillow on her back when sitting at the kitchen table. That she has to use the heating pad constantly and doesn't want to do anything but sit in the goddamned living room chair. It hurts her to move so she doesn't move and that makes it ever harder to move. She doesn't get the logic - her brain doesn't work quite right anymore. The doctor doesn't have a magic pill and I'm tired of having a 69 year old toddler whose needs I have to constantly anticipate. It's, as you can imagine, incredibly draining in addition to everything else.

We've been trying to talk about what is next. It's such a loaded conversation - on so many levels - but we are finally coming to terms with what the stress is doing to us. I've realized lately that my role in this family is to be The Matriarch so I'm taking the reigns and directing traffic with all of the force and power that the position demands. After all, it's what I do best. No more giving everyone else the space to do the right thing and come to their own conclusions about what's wrong and how to deal with it. Things will fall apart before that happens. Falling apart is not an option.

This body of mine continues to tell me to quiet down. My knee is still bothering me a fair amount if I'm at all active. The doctor ordered an MRI and suspects a torn meniscus or other cartilage. My stomach is healing from the appendectomy quite nicely but the constant discomfort I have in my upper right abdomen (think gallbladder) hasn't gone away. The surgeon ordered, and I had a test yesterday to look at that, too. I get the results of the MRI at an appointment next week and if I'm lucky, the results of the gallbladder scan via telephone today. Regardless of the results, I've already decided that I'm not having surgery again any time soon.

I'm doing my best to take control of my life wherever possible - and to keep my head above water. It's a constant process.

Major Funk

Everything seems exceptionally difficult right now. Waking up, falling asleep and everything in between. Especially the everything in between.

Work today was a complete drag. I'm so overwhelmed with the long list of things to do that I hardly know where to begin. Everyone wants something from me and the reality is that there aren't enough hours in the day. I spent most of today wanting to be anywhere but where I was, wanting to spend some quality time with my mom, and feeling like I should be taking some more time off to get my head straight - milking it for some more. It has been less than two weeks since my surgery so maybe it wouldn't be "milking it".

There's so much floating around my body and mind I can't quite sort it out in my head much less put it to paper. Three hours of sleep last night doesn't do much for positive or clear thinking.

Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow. Even if I don't, I'll act as if.

The Hits Keep Coming

My appendix is healing still; my entire constitution is slightly off -sometimes nauseous, constipation or diarreah, severe pains if I'm too hungry, too full, too whatever. The good news is that I'm no longer taking pain pills and I'm fairly certain that will make a huge difference in how I'm feeling.

When I went to the hospital, my left knee was bothering me something fierce. It had swelled up and started hurting for no apparent reason a couple of weeks earlier. My regular doctor suggested pain meds and a visit to an orthopedic doctor. She said we'd follow up on the stomach issues I mentioned at a separate appointment. Anyway, as soon as I made it to the emergency room and got the heavy duty pain medicine, my knee became a non-issue. The swelling went down and I forgot that it had been a problem at all. Until last night - after being on my feet a lot of the day, it began to swell and hurt.  And it hurts now, after sleeping all night.

Blech.

It's very, very clear that I'm being forced to sit down and face something that I've been too busy to be attentive to.

Back To the Grind Today

Work. Love it, hate it. Going back to it today.

Actually, I went back on Tuesday for a very important meeting that I insisted I attend in person. Good thing, too. I never would have been able to concentrate while at home and the content required my boss and colleagues to see my face - they don't understand the complexities of my staff, my job, my programs and services. 

Yesterday, Independence day, was kind of a bust. Wood, Twig and I woke up early and fooled around in our morning bed - teased, laughed, tickled, laughed some more. It was so much fun. Until The Boy's head hit my belly kind of too hard. I was in pain for the remainder of the day. It worked out - Grandma didn't want to go to the 4th of July party that Wood was invited to and I couldn't leave Bam here alone to sit with her so I stayed home with both of them and caught up on my self-pity and Season 1 of Glee.

Slow has never been my strong suit. Living for other people hasn't either. 

I don't feel 100%, that's weighing down on me. Grandma and her disinterest in doing anything except sleeping and sitting in the big green chair is also a bit grating. On all of us. I want to be able to move fast, jump and play and my body isn't cooperating much. I want Grandma to move out of our house so we can at least have the flexibility to go to a 4th of July party as a family. I don't want Bam to go home. But she will soon. I'm better enough to go back to work even though I'd much rather sit on the couch for a week gathering some mental and emotional strength all while calling it 'recovery from surgery'.

Everyone is fast asleep this morning so I'm headed to the office at about 7am. I'll leave by noon so that I can spend some more time with my mom and rest. I'm healing up nicely but not ready for a full day of work. 

Clean

I fully expected to have a second film and to be sent on my way. That was one of the reasons I didn't tell Bam that this was a follow up. But instead, the appointment took nearly two hours.

Getting the pictures taken was fast. But then I waited. In the waiting/dressing room with three other women at a time. Three other women wearing the same gown that doesn't quite cover everything on your upper torso much less make you want to talk to complete strangers. There were several of us waiting for the same reason. And the doctor was running behind.

I asked the nurse to check in with my mom; all of the women who had gone in before me had since left. She thinks this is a routine mammogram. But she was reassured that the doctor was just running behind.

The nurse let everyone but me leave and told me they wanted to do an ultrasound. And my throat closed again. I almost went to the waiting room to come clean. The nurse suggested not. It should be real fast. I agreed. And waited some more.

The ultrasound tech brought me in and spent quite a bit of time rubbing her wand along my breast snapping pictures of it. She then sent the photos off to the doc.

The doc came in and said that she thought everything was fine but proceeded to ultrasound my breast again. She seemed reluctant but eventually said "you're okay" and sent me on my way. See you next year.

Exhale.

Here I Am

I'm at the breast center for the follow up mammogram. My mom is here with me although she thinks the appointment is for a routine screening.

Considering all of the hoopla surrounding my appendix this week, my boobs haven't crossed my mind much. My stomach and belly button have been my focus since last week.

Now that I'm here though, I'm a bit nervous. In through the nose, out through the mouth. My belly hurts a little bit from overdoing it again today so I just popped a pain pill.

I hope my scared gut is wrong. I hope they'll say everything looks fine and to come back in a year. I don't know if I can handle something so big on top of everything else. Not right now.

Post Surgery

Appendix is gone. Pain is not. I'm home. Tired from being awake for about 36 hours prior to surgery. Well, I guess I'm tired from surgery and all the pain.

Definitely Not Gas

The pain started at about 10pm. I mentioned it to Wood and then we went to bed. Except that I couldn't sleep. The pain kept getting worse.

I made my way to the couch so that Wood wouldn't be disturbed. I sat, walked, used the heating pad, pulled out a hard bucket just in case. No relief at all.

Finally, at 3:30, I woke Wood and told him that I had not slept at all, that the pain was bad. He suggested Pepto Bismol. I explained that I've never felt pain like this. We agreed that I needed to go to the Emergency Room.

I drove myself, parked in the lot and got in really fast. Pain meds, IV, a cat scan and less than 3 hours later, I have been diagnosed with Appendicits. Surgery later today, I suppose.

Bam will come to town. I have no idea what the recovery period is. Wow. I'm kinda loopy - no sleep for 24hrs plus dilauted.

More later.

Body Parts

Last week, after dealing with the house drama for a couple of days, my left knee spontaneously started hurting. Really, I did some stair climbing, moved a few boxes, pushed a few things around, and generally did what I usually do on any given weekend day. Except it was Tuesday.

When the plane landed, I woke up, and began walking though, my knee felt like I had run a half marathon. Pain with every step, clearly swollen, I pretended like nothing significant happened. Well, nothing significant happened!

I mentioned it to Wood when I climbed in to bed at 12:30am on Wednesday morning. And noted that it still hurt, and still was swollen, when I woke up Wednesday. Boo.

Throughout the week it hasn't really improved much. The more active I am, the more swollen it is, the more pain I have. The sexy compression socks I usually reserve for recovery after running plus the compression sleeve over my knee are amounting to exactly zero reduction of swelling. And when I say swelling, I mean visible under my pants swollen.

As of yesterday it was feeling a tad bit better. I went to my appointment because I'd be charged more to cancel without 24 hours notice than to just show up. The doctor poked around but didn't see anything obvious and merely told me to do traditional RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) plus NSAID's for up to two weeks. And to make an appointment with an orthopedist. As soon as I stood up to leave, the pain was back again. Grr.

The day got away from me and I didn't schedule the orthopedist appointment yet. They were closed at 5:30 this afternoon. I'm going to work early tomorrow so they'll get me first thing.

Despite the obvious downside of having a bum knee, it's not as bothersome an unknown as the differences in my mammogram. That is weighing much more heavily on me right now. I've told Wood, you, another friend, and my two favorites at work - only because they are in the same office - and I suck at keeping secrets lately.

Wood says not to worry. My friend says that the diagnostic people are very conservative. I say I'll get through whatever comes my way. I believe that to be true. But I also know I have this different sense that urges me to do certain things because of what I "know". The decision to go to the big University medical center was because if I ever needed to be treated for Cancer, I'd want it to be there: cutting edge diagnostics, research center, excellent outcomes. Weird, I know, but it's what went through my head. So I listened.

Now, I wait, knowing that a few days won't make a difference in the long term. Besides, I've got many other body parts to manage.

Better, At This Very Moment

So, I panicked. Just enough to raise my blood pressure for a while. Enough to distract me from the work that I needed to get done at the office.

I could have rescheduled the follow up scan for earlier in the week but it just doesn't make sense. Three days won't change the course of what is happening to me (if anything) and I don't want to get into a conversation with my boss. She may be a Nice Lady but truth be told, she's not so nice a lady. No really, she's a counselor by trade.

Ironic that I'm employed by someone that I can't trust to be supportive of the drama floating around my existence. But I know I can handle whatever comes my way. And there is a significant ebb and flow to my perspective. One minute I'm just fine. Then I'm shaking.

Now I'm exhausted so I'll try to sleep. My knee, oy, is also bothering me. Anything to slow me down, huh?

I Won't Panic

The breast clinic called this morning to call me back for a follow up to my scan from last week. Apparently there are changes on my left breast from my 2009 scan.

The technician told me not to worry as she heard my "Okay" and "Uh, huh" quiver more intensely with each response - she makes at least 4 of these calls each day and its really no bug deal, she explained. "Well, a close friend of mine is having a complete mastectomy this week and her scan didn't show anything a year ago."

I made the follow up appointment for Thursday afternoon but may change it to sooner because truth be told, I'm afraid. Bat-shit afraid.

Three AM

Three in the morning is my new insomnia wake up time. Oh, how I wish it was plain insomnia.

The Boy's energy today was intense and followed by a decent sized meltdown that was caused by his dad yelling at him (Twig wiped his dirty hands on Woods pants instead of his napkin - which was probably supposed to be funny) and ended in a spanking to bring him back to reality (instead of chasing me down to hit, kick and punch me for trying to break it up) and me telling my husband, essentially, that it was his fault for behaving like a 7 year old his damned self and Twig was reacting with equal force so please act like a grown up instead of a third Fucking child that I have to parent already...

Not only awake, I'm agitated, too. And in a big way.

Facebook and all the pretty pictures of people going to Disneyland and loving life sure doesn't help. Makes me feel like I'm doing it all wrong. Not fun enough. Not active enough. Not happy enough.

Simplification ain't going as well as I'd hoped, either. Too many things to do, not enough hours in the day.

Failure feelings at 3am. Just Fucking ducky.

So Much

It's Friday and that's a good thing. I'm beat down physically and emotionally.

The Oakland house was so tiring. The situation there drained me emotionally. I wanted to vomit during the entire trip - the feeling didn't subside until the keys were changed and the windows were locked. Then, my nausea returned. Because of fear and sadness.

A close friend told me she found a lump in her armpit a few weeks ago. I immediately scheduled my overdue mammogram. My friend has breast cancer. She is the "rock" of the family and has melted - rather understandable. It is hard that I can't do anything. Can't make a meal for them, can't come by and clean the house, can't sit by her side after surgery, during chemo, through recovery, reconstructive surgery, through recovery. It's hard to be so far away.

I'm offering to help by organizing friends through Lotsa Helping Hands or some other site. Perhaps her family and friends will be self organized like my sister's friends were. This brings up stuff that is so difficult.

My body is responding to my mind and it's need to do it all (can't let things fall apart). My knee swelled up as I left Oakland late on Tuesday. When I got off the plane after midnight Wednesday morning, I felt as if I'd just run a half marathon even though I slept the entire flight. My knee ached with every step, I limped to the taxi station. Yesterday the swelling continued. As I got out of the shower, my lower back, the one that has sat me down before, twinged "SLOW DOWN on your own, LADY or I'll force you down for much longer than you'd like." I took two Aleve and went on about my day, swollen knee and back in pain.


This morning my knee isn't swollen and doesn't hurt. It may by the end of the day. My back is still smarts but I plan on taking Advil instead of Aleve. I'll leave work early to see Twig's dance camp performance, go with Wood to Grandma's doctor appointment where we'll follow up on her spine fracture and get the doctor to get her to let us help with her bowel incontinence issues at home and at her day program. Twig will be with Lion (isn't that cute) for a playdate. So weird - a family that also moved to Portland from Oakland. Such a small world. We'll come home, go to sleep and tomorrow I'll go to work real early to try to catch up from being gone two days and several hours more than I should have been. 


Right now, I'm going to get today started. 

Mostly Finished

The business is mostly over. The "forcing" was as successful as it could have been. No damage that can be seen with the human eye.

The bank account will hurt. My heart is heavy. Believe it or not, such confrontations are painful for me.

Having my mom and close friends close during this time was helpful. Very helpful. That I was here now was good. I was able to visit a close friend that was diagnosed with breast cancer this week.

She has 5 lumps in her right breast. The cancer is in her right lymph nodes. She will have chemo. She will have a mastectomy within the next two weeks. She had a mammogram one year and 4 months ago. Her mother and grandmother both died of breast cancer. She is afraid it may have spread to other parts of her body.

I still look forward soon to being at home with my family... wrinkles, scabs and all. I wish I could be closer to help my 3rd friend with breast cancer.

It will have to be done from a distance.

Grown Up

Being a grown up can really suck sometimes. Like when there's business that's not easy to manage that you must attend to.

My business is particularly tough in that I am being forced to "make" another person do the right thing after giving way too many chances. Parenting a grown up who
should be doing the right thing already. My stomach hurts.

Step Back

The knee jerk reaction that both of the boys I love more than anything have when things aren't going their way is tiring. I feel their feelings as they spew all over the place - all over everyone's space.

Remembering that it's not my feeling to feel is challenging. Finding ways to allow them to have their feelings in ways that don't impact others around them is even more difficult.

Wood is upset that I'm leaving, and acting as if he's 7. I haven't said out loud that he was gone for over a week (several times in the last year) and that he'll be able to manage. Even if he doesn't want to. Even if it is Father's Day. It's never a good time to take care of business that needs taking care of.

Today he keeps pointing at the stack of dry cleaning in the living room, shrugging his shoulders, and giving me a look that says "Why haven't you taken the dry cleaning in yet?" My guess is that it's been sitting there for about a month. Inside my head I say "You know where the dry cleaner is, too. If it's bothering you so much, take care of it yourself. Just because I typically take care of it doesn't mean it's  my job and no one else can do it."

"Are you going to Facebook or are you going to work?" he says. "I'm not going to answer you." I say and think "it's none of your fucking business what I'm going to do with my hour alone. If I want to Facebook during my time, then I'll Facebook. I'll drive in whatever lane I want to, whatever route I see fit, and manage my own damned time. Sometimes I'll be way ahead of the game of doing the dishes and sometimes I'll fail miserably at getting the laundry done or cleaning the toilet. I don't ask you what you're doing when you're plugged in to the computer and I'm busy cooking dinner, when you'll have an hour alone, and I don't tell you what route to take when we're driving in the car. I would like it if you would accept the fact that other drivers are never going to follow the rules of the road and if you didn't scream at them and their stupid antics. I'd prefer you put things away when they're out instead of not seeing them because you didn't "do it", that you'd cook dinner because you were being thoughtful of the fact that I always do it, and that you'd be aware of and accepting of your feelings - whether they be good, bad or neutral. Sometimes I wish you were a bit more independent of me and sometimes I think that I take on a lot more than you do when it comes to our family. No, I don't want to have sex and I don't want to be in charge all the time."

I just think it - not necessarily all at the same time and not necessarily at the same time. Unless I'm taking a step back to get it out here. Then maybe I'll be able to talk constructively.

Emotions All Over the Place

There are times when pre-menstrual syndrome is one of those excuses I love to have on my side. Like now, when my period is at least three days late and the tears have no sense of the "off" position. When in the one moment that is supposed to be complete and total unadulterated pleasure I break down into a complete and total, good for nothing, sobbing uncontrollably mess. Tears everywhere.

It is so good to have Wood home. His presence brings things back into balance and I can't imagine this life without him as my partner in it. We are a great team when we're working together and we can almost literally move mountains. You've been reading this here blog and know it's kinda true.

The first night he came home, he put Twig to bed and stayed asleep in his room (can you say jet lag plus a three hour time change?). I sat on the couch and cried until 2am. It was what I needed to do for myself. Wallow a bit and feel the feelings that I rarely give time to.

Twig has been pushing the boundaries of his attitude and behaviors a little bit since his dad came home. And while 'a little bit' is good, I have not been feeling very giving of myself. That, in turn, makes Twig even more needy. Which, makes me even more not willing to give him all of the physical attention he needs. And all of those feelings of disinterest in being close to the boy makes me fairly certain that my period is late due to stress, not an accidental unplanned pregnancy. Which, I've already decided would be fantastic if we did have a second child. But even more fantastic if we didn't. (for the record, we're not having a second child, confirmed this afternoon!)

I realized by Wood's absence that I am spending a lot of time being flexible to meet his desires. I will often step back and let him make decisions when it would be much easier for me to take the lead. Or he offers to do something "Oh, I can do that, no problem!"What ends up happening is that the "thing"

On the other hand, all of these emotions are tiring. My sleep has been choppy at best. Recalibrating is tough work.

More Emotions

His anxiety level is very high and he's taking it out on me. Again.

I am doing my very best to keep my "professional" distance and talk him down. The psychologist's advice for dealing with anger isn't working. Gee, where does that boy get his anger from?

You think I'm talking Twig, right?

Wood is upset that grandma isn't able to go with us where we want to go on the weekends. This weekend in particular. He's completely inconsolable. He doesn't want to hear logic. He doesn't want to hear anything. He just ramps himself up and behaves badly toward me. I'm not going to bite.

Once upon a time, he didn't bite when I got my panties in a bunch. Funny how things change.

Life - real fucking life - happens. Children that we chose to bring into the world demand our attention, jobs that we must have to make ends meet demand our attention, parents get old and demand our attention. Responsibilities in other parts of our lives demand attention. Even on Father's Day.

He's already decided that this weekend is going to suck. Grandma won't be able to hang out too long at Twig's baseball-party-picnic in the park on Saturday. I have to leave (for a little more than 24 whole hours) to deal with our house drama. He's overwhelmed and gets all martyr like when I am leaving. About grandma and the weekend he says "I won't go to the picnic because I don't want to set myself up. It'll never work and then I'll get mad." My plea to focus on what we can do, to try to make things work to the best of our ability, to focus on the good stuff falls on deaf ears. He's completely anti. So I tell him that if things aren't working we need to make a change. A global change.

He doesn't want to hear that, either.

He puts Twig to bed, angry. I pour another glass of wine and talk to the potential property manager on the phone.

Blerg

What I really mean to say is "f*$# this f?*%@ing s$!@/!"

Being required to follow stupid people really pisses me off. Doesn't matter it it's on the road or at work. Annoying.

That's it, I feel a little bit better now. Okay, back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Yay, Friday!

Wood comes home tonight! I'm glad. And sad.

I know his mom and the boy miss him a bunch. Not to say that I don't, but being solitary periodically is so good for my soul. Being married is good for my soul, too, just a different part of it.

Him coming home is a transition and that brings stress. Hopefully I can respond very little to his bad moods, particularly when his expectations aren't met and he acts like a martyred baby. That sounds so mean - but when he gets upset and lashes out. My ongoing issue is to be appropriately responsive and compassionate, to talk through it instead of lashing back...

We have plans for Twig to have 1:1 daddy time in the am, I get time in the pm, and grandma will likely get him around Dinner time. I hope that will aid in the transition.

I really am looking forward to him coming home.

Not the Best Kind of Dreamy

The new promotion is great in title. In reality it means a lot of work that will consume me. Personalities, crises, negotiating - all skills I possess, even excel at on occasion. If my sleep continues to be affected by simple work issues like last night, I might step down.

I went to sleep with Twig at about 8:30 last night and as usual, I was asleep before him. I went to my bedroom and quickly fell asleep there. But a while later I was tossing and turning, half awake, half asleep for quite some time because of two work issues - the FMLA issue I briefly mentioned yesterday where they will doc my pay for being gone a total of 2.5 hours per week despite the fact that I explained that my Exempt Status is threatened if they do so (which means they'd have to pay me overtime if I work more than 40 hrs/week), and something else, perhaps, that I cant remember.

These kinds of unsolvable dreams have plagued me in my past - because once when I was young and in college taking Algebra (and struggling), I had a dream about a problem I couldn't solve while I was awake. But I did it in the dream and remembered the next day! Unfortunately, however, not all problems have a formula that if followed can lead you to win...

Twig came into my room at some point. I cuddled up with him and slept much better for the remainder of the night. So much so that my dreams were intense and long. From the end to the start: The house where I was hanging out was raided by police - drugs or something. An old boyfriend came for a quickie visit. We didn't have sex but we might as well have. I confided in him that Wood had decided to divorce me (another dream wherein Wood and I were casually talking, I said the word divorce -talking about someone else, perhaps- and he said "Divorce? That reminds me, I want a divorce"), I looked around the floor that was covered in pebbles and found a bunch of little gem covered earrings. At the birthday party, I decided that I was going to start up a business of group homes and travel training programs for people with disabilities, and asked a friend if she knew of any good administrators. I settled into my friend's oh-so-cute 1 room apartment that was put together so nicely that it seemed much larger. But looking for a cake knife in the Ikea cabinet prompted a conversation about how Ikea furniture is kind of good looking but you have to be so careful when it's full - save it fall apart or on top of you. My friend was embarrassed for me to see her place - it was adorable sitting among all of the other houses. Nothing much but well done. More than enough!

Sorry for the stream of consciousness post here. I had to get it all on paper before getting ready for work. Some of it's about things that are really happening in my life, some are not. I find the visiting boyfriends very interesting - the two that had the most impact have come by a bunch lately. I even find myself thinking about "First Love" quite a bit these days.

Anyway, ONWARD!

Thanks for reading!

Wednesday Hump Day

It's official! I'm officially Program Director. Complete with an increase in time off and a company paid parking spot. Granted, they're going to reduce my take home pay for 2.5 hours per week of family medical leave. Whatever, this is my stepping stone job! Executive Director will be behind my name in the next 5 years.

Day 4: Recap

The Power Unit (our 1996 Subaru) was fixed on Monday. We decided to go the cheap wait-and-see route. $350 gets you a new radiator and hopefully, a few months (years?) of use. However, it's only an around town car now. It runs real hot since it began spewing water, the new radiator didn't change that and it will likely need a head gasket at some point. 

I arrived work late yesterday, completed Satisfaction Surveys (got them in the mail over a month late), and left early to pick up Twig from school, to deliver him to Ballet, and then to make dinner in preparation for his baseball game. Thank goodness the game was rained out! Twig was/is not feeling well and his ability to keep himself contained is decreasing by the moment.

After our watershed moment in the morning, I asked for his help putting his clean clothes (I needed to wash his ballet and baseball gear in the morning before we left for school) away. It turned into a thing. He didn't want to help, he decided to hit, kick, and generally be obstinate. I turned off the television and eventually put all the clothes away taking no notice to where I put things and later told him not to complain if he couldn't find things where he expected them to be. He understood that, his behavior (although he said I started it and later understood how his lack of cooperation kept it going and lost him privileges), and how it got neither of us anywhere. I shouldn't have asked. He's a bit char-broiled and I set myself up... I went to bed with him at 8pm.

Yawn.

Day 4: Weird Dreams, Twig is Sick, Blah, and Venus

Had a very weird dream about our non-paying tenant drama that continues to be undone (we're waiting for the court and it's been three weeks as of today). Maybe not so weird actually - just that she was continuing to play games with us. Turned out she moved and left all of her crap, boxed and labeled behind - in one room. I was worried about making any move, save making a mistake and her having the upper hand.

Twig is sick with another sinus infection. Thank goodness he likes using the neti pot and that he doesn't have a fever. That would be whipped cream, huh? His attitude and tone kind of sucks so today I said "Would you please stop for a moment and think about the way you are talking to me?" He apologized and talked to me differently after that. It was a watershed moment.

I'm feeling as blah as ever. Perhaps as you can imagine. Tears are always right at the surface but I don't really know what to do with the feeling that is with them. It's all mixed up so tears seem a bit underwhelming.  But, things, even getting out the front door in the morning, are just too much right now.

Venus transverses the sun tonight starting at about 4:30pm. People in the astrological world are all abuzz about the significant impact this will have. Frankly, I'm looking forward to it. Whatever it is.

Day 3: Extra Work Because There's Already Too Much Work and Sometimes I Forget to Do The Work

I messed up on Friday and forgot to schedule grandma's bus rides home for this week. You know, working and all that kinda consumes me during 9-5.

The Power Unit is in the shop and needs to be picked up in the SE part of town today by 5. Twig needs to be picked up in the SE part of town by 6 and grandma in the deep SW part of town by 6. I get off work at 5 and I arrived late today. But I'll leave early and hope no one notices - especially my boss who will be performing my evaluation tomorrow. Given that I've recently been promoted it should be fine but I'm always apprehensive about these things. And I have to leave early tomorrow, too. Twig's last day of ballet.

It really is too much to organize. I know it but still get flustered when I forget something - forgetting something like a bus ride really can muck up the schedule. A lot.

Deep breaths.

Day 2: Apathy

The babysitter arrived at about 4pm, as expected, but I wasn't ready to go anywhere. I was just climbing in the shower.

Once I made it out the door I had a tough time driving away. There were plenty of things I needed to do, had planned to do even, and I wanted to do none of them.

Finally I left and the noise of the road at 60 mph almost lulled me to sleep. Unlike now - it's 10:15 and I should have been in bed an hour or two ago - I'm tired but fighting it.

Returning the broken dehumidifier at Target was easy - a clear plan - go to Target, return broken item, leave. Check out dehumidifiers at Home Depot.

Purchasing a new dehumidifier at Home Depot didn't happen. It was too overwhelming. I second guessed myself... price... size... features... Too many choices, too many decisions to be made. Wanting to cry, not sure why, not sure how to do it. There was no clear reason to do so.

I accidentally got the door alarms I'd been meaning to buy (and installed one of them tonight). However, it took too long to choose what to get. I felt like I was out of my element in every way and I wasn't sure what needed to happen to get back to myself.

Back in the car I sat and thought about what to do next - there was still about 3 hours of my "free" time (that cost me $50) left. Dinner? Groceries? Booze?

I didn't get a text response from a friend that had told me of a sushi place to try so after thinking about my desires: someplace I'd never been (and likely would never go with the family), I decided on a restaurant that I've driven past on several occasions. A strange place called Mojo Sushi. It's inside a bar and it's not too far from the grocery store.

Mojo's was closed so I searched Google Maps for another place close by. Drove the half mile there in the quiet, which was nice but wasn't nice... searched for the place listed on my phone. I never found it and all the other places in the neighborhood were too much. Too cool, hip, happening. Not. My. Speed. Especially tonight.

I finally remembered that there was a Japanese place I'd wanted to try that is a bit closer to the grocery store so I headed there. It fit the bill but, the food was mediocre, the service pretty bad, and the prices not the best.

After food and sake I was a bit less apathetic than earlier but not by much. Trader Joe's took me for only $60 tonight. Wood would say that apathy is a good thing in this case.

Some people say that depression is anger turned inward. I'm not angry today and tears have been on the tip of my tongue, so to speak, all day (for several days, actually). Maybe my apathy today is really depression. Maybe I'm not dealing with the challenges of life too well today. I certainly am being tough on myself for being imperfect. And being tough on myself for being tough on myself.

Tomorrow will most certainly be different.

Different=Good.