(11.2.15)
My life has largely devolved into little more than working, eating, sleeping, and trying to keep the house in some semblance of nontoxic and livable. I come home from work and am so mentally tired some days I don't even feel like I can decide on pizza toppings, let alone anything heavier. I've been told in the past that Im 'guy-like' about my work. It's a critically important part of my self worth and I suspect Im at risk of completely exhausting myself in my attempts to do everything it requires of me of late. Suffice it to say, there are supposed to be 2 people doing what I do, but there's been only me for most of the last two years, and it's getting really hard to keep going. The parts of my work that I really love, I barely get to do anymore. I don't particularly like that my life has gotten this narrow but Im not quite sure how to change it.
There has also been a lot going on the last few years with the Vampire. She's had some rough stuff happen to her in the past which carries understandable shit and baggage with it. She also made some really bad decisions. Really, really bad. The last year has been much calmer, but still very challenging. Yes, Im euphemising. She's a teenager with a shit egg-mom and a bad boyfriend picker and Im the strong-willed stepmonster. You do the math.
Im currently battling the urge to get rid of everything and start living very minimalistically. When there's too much clutter in my home, I start feeling.....well..sort of trapped. It feels chaotic and out of control. I did a mini-purge of my bookshelf and that helped. I went through the junk and utensil drawers in the kitchen and purged a bunch of crap and that helped. My closet is next. I've already got a box in our bedroom waiting for me to fill it with crap that needs to go down to the garage.
(Continued 11.4.15)
Tonight I had a mini-meltdown. Another night of coming home mentally exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed. Talking with my beloved, I tried to explain what the running dialog in my brain is like. He asked me to try to share. I spewed random slung together nonstop thoughtvomit, virtually without breathing, for several minutes. Various themes of "Im frustrated professionally" and "Our pets are frustrating me" and "Im worried about my health" and "The chaos in our home is worsening my mental chaos and inability to chill the fuck out." All very self critical, of course, but with some real stuff too. Part of what makes it so hard to take is that I KNOW I am strong and capable of handling whatever gets thrown at me and rising to the challenge and fuck-all Getting. Shit. Done.
After my brain purge, I attacked the closet and within a few minutes I had two boxes of clothes ready for garage storage Then Schmoop and I got rid of a little bit of clutter in the living room; stuff that had been lingering in a corner collecting dust has now been sorted into keep/chuck/donate and removed from the living space. And a random bag o'crap from our previous car, Stella, has been sorted and chucked/filed. That stuff helps. Taking action almost *always* helps.
The struggle just gets so old sometimes. It is hard to be the strong one all the time. I know I don't have to be, but even when I break down, it's knowing that I can't let it happen for long because I have shit to do. Im getting better at asking for help when I need it, but I still prefer to do things myself and not inconvenience anyone else/appear weak. Sometimes I wish I could have that mental breakdown that D thought I would have so many years ago. Sometimes I wish I could be an asshole and really not give a shit about anyone else without feeling like I need to soften my rage with humour (I've been called the "The Nicest Pissed Off Person"). I don't do that all the time, but I do think I do it unnecessarily sometimes, plus I dig making people laugh and Im incredibly fucking funny. I also grok Im struggling with my depression. That bastard comes and goes, so I know his visits are temporary, but he does wreak havoc when he's here.
Sometimes I wish I could run away and live in a cabin by a lake.
I feel like something has to change, but I haven't quite figured out the what or the how.
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Sunday, November 1, 2015
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Thoughts on Samhain 2015
Having a quiet night at home with my family. The Vampire Child has already retreated to her room. Schmoop worked the day shift so he's home and we got to eat dinner together. With our different schedules, that is pretty rare. Im not feeling particularly celebratory or overtly Pagany, but being mindful of the day. The veil is thin today and thinking of beloveds who have gone before me. Wistful, and slightly sad, missing Nana, and Bonnie and Astrid and Elaine and so many others. The world is such a beautiful place, so much love here, but occasionally a shadow passes by and I remember those who used to be here. .
What is remembered, lives.
Thinking of another friend dancing the Spiral in SF for the first time and remembering how huge that felt, so significant, to be in that whirling circle, meeting other dancers' eyes and feeling connected to something bigger that just the body I live in. Im a little envious, but I'll be there again, just not today.
Thinking of my kiddo. She just celebrated her 26th birthday. She's all grown up. I swear it was just yesterday she was that little girl all pissed off at the Easter Bunny. She grew into an amazing woman. You'd be impressed. I know I am. She's still on the other side of the country. Part of me absolutely wishes she was here. I wish we could talk more often and hang out and just be women together. She's so strong and I admire her so much. I try not to be selfish though. As much as I want her closer, it's more important that she live her life by her rules. She knows she has love waiting to cushion her landing here if and when she returns.
Thinking of my parents, so far away. I think they're content, for the most part, where they are. I know Mom gets lonely and I wish I could hang out with her too. My mom rocks. Seriously. I miss going to Yesterday's books with her and then to lunch where we would read our books and munch and chat. I went to a used bookstore today, Mom. Added 50 bucks in credit to my already sizable balance by turning in 3 bags filled with books. I know...impressive, right? (mom knows it's hard for me to re-home books) My dad, I think, is likely much happier in AlabamaImNotFromThere than he was here. I think it suits him. He's found a church, he's found friends, and he has purpose.
Thinking of friends and their struggles and joys. Thinking of family balancing life and responsibility. Thinking about the bigger picture and the intimate snapshots of our daily lives.
Sending love out into the world for all of us, whichever side of the veil we may be on. Blessed be.
What is remembered, lives.
Thinking of another friend dancing the Spiral in SF for the first time and remembering how huge that felt, so significant, to be in that whirling circle, meeting other dancers' eyes and feeling connected to something bigger that just the body I live in. Im a little envious, but I'll be there again, just not today.
Thinking of my kiddo. She just celebrated her 26th birthday. She's all grown up. I swear it was just yesterday she was that little girl all pissed off at the Easter Bunny. She grew into an amazing woman. You'd be impressed. I know I am. She's still on the other side of the country. Part of me absolutely wishes she was here. I wish we could talk more often and hang out and just be women together. She's so strong and I admire her so much. I try not to be selfish though. As much as I want her closer, it's more important that she live her life by her rules. She knows she has love waiting to cushion her landing here if and when she returns.
Thinking of my parents, so far away. I think they're content, for the most part, where they are. I know Mom gets lonely and I wish I could hang out with her too. My mom rocks. Seriously. I miss going to Yesterday's books with her and then to lunch where we would read our books and munch and chat. I went to a used bookstore today, Mom. Added 50 bucks in credit to my already sizable balance by turning in 3 bags filled with books. I know...impressive, right? (mom knows it's hard for me to re-home books) My dad, I think, is likely much happier in AlabamaImNotFromThere than he was here. I think it suits him. He's found a church, he's found friends, and he has purpose.
Thinking of friends and their struggles and joys. Thinking of family balancing life and responsibility. Thinking about the bigger picture and the intimate snapshots of our daily lives.
Sending love out into the world for all of us, whichever side of the veil we may be on. Blessed be.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Thoughts on a New Year
Tonight is the Webinox..the day of each year that I sassily pronounce It Is All About Me. It's my birthday. Birthdays are important, and mine is very important to me. But this year it isn't just about me being a year older.... It is about our world getting the gift of a new year. 2012 has been filled with challenges. It brought me to marrying my beloved Naked Coffee Boy...a greater gift than I could ever have imagined. But while this year has brought so much beauty, it has also brought our country and our world so very much pain. Fiscal cliffs and Indian rape victims and Malala and Syria and binders full of women and their uteruses (uteri?) and a nightmare of an election season (regardless of which side of the aisle you were rooting for) and super storm Sandy and babies dying in school shootings and The End of the Freakin' World. Can we stop now? Please? Can we stop hurting each other and do more helping instead?
I know it doesn't feel like it sometimes. I know that it feels like it's never going to get better, it's only going to get worse and in the end, we're going to destroy ourselves. I know there are days when I wonder why the hell I even got out of bed and I know that resetting our patterns can be hard work.
I also know that small things make a difference. I know that we can't all Change The World in big, splashy ways, but we can all change our world in small, meaningful ways. With our intention and our authenticity, we can make this moment... and this moment..and this moment...each a little bit brighter.
I would like to offer that we have the power to create 2013 differently. We have the power to offer up our hope and our love and our faith and our strength to create something different, something better, something luminous.
We can, you know.
So, in the spirit of New Year's resolutions, I vow to do the following...
1. Love myself more. "They" say you can't love someone else until you love yourself. I don't necessarily think that's true, but loving yourself is a good thing. Most of us don't love ourselves anywhere near enough. Swami Kripalu said, "Every time you judge yourself, you break your own heart." My friends think Im loveable, why don't I?
2. Learn people's names more. Like Maddie and Kailyn, the baristas at the Dutch Brothers near my house. And Frank, the delivery guy with the guaranteed-to-brighten-my-day hair. Next on my list, the funny gal at the Japanese place where I often eat lunch. When you see someone so often, why wouldn't you know their names?
3. Say 'should' less often. I 'should' all over myself and it leaves stains. When I get told I should do something, or feel like I should do something or someone else should, Im going to ask why. There might be a compelling reason. There probably isn't, though. Shoulds get in the way of living, of us being who we *really* are.
4. Im going to do things more that feel really good. I've resolved some of these in the past, so Im just reaffirming them. Im going to wear more velvet, drink more wine, dance more, laugh more, hug more, drink more water, give more compliments, eat more fruit, read more, smile more, love more, make more art, get more massages, buy the expensive cheese more, pet the furkids more, cuddle with my NCB more. Im going to be more of who I really am and less of who other people have determined I should be (there's that word again).
Im going to be open to more of the beautiful moments in my life and Im not going to leave space for the nasty shit to make a home in my spirit. That's how Im going to change my world. Maybe this is the lesson of the Mayan Calendar. We can end the world as it has been and rebuild it into something better.
Happy New Year and Happy Webinox. Have a beautiful 2013.
I know it doesn't feel like it sometimes. I know that it feels like it's never going to get better, it's only going to get worse and in the end, we're going to destroy ourselves. I know there are days when I wonder why the hell I even got out of bed and I know that resetting our patterns can be hard work.
I also know that small things make a difference. I know that we can't all Change The World in big, splashy ways, but we can all change our world in small, meaningful ways. With our intention and our authenticity, we can make this moment... and this moment..and this moment...each a little bit brighter.
I would like to offer that we have the power to create 2013 differently. We have the power to offer up our hope and our love and our faith and our strength to create something different, something better, something luminous.
We can, you know.
So, in the spirit of New Year's resolutions, I vow to do the following...
1. Love myself more. "They" say you can't love someone else until you love yourself. I don't necessarily think that's true, but loving yourself is a good thing. Most of us don't love ourselves anywhere near enough. Swami Kripalu said, "Every time you judge yourself, you break your own heart." My friends think Im loveable, why don't I?
2. Learn people's names more. Like Maddie and Kailyn, the baristas at the Dutch Brothers near my house. And Frank, the delivery guy with the guaranteed-to-brighten-my-day hair. Next on my list, the funny gal at the Japanese place where I often eat lunch. When you see someone so often, why wouldn't you know their names?
3. Say 'should' less often. I 'should' all over myself and it leaves stains. When I get told I should do something, or feel like I should do something or someone else should, Im going to ask why. There might be a compelling reason. There probably isn't, though. Shoulds get in the way of living, of us being who we *really* are.
4. Im going to do things more that feel really good. I've resolved some of these in the past, so Im just reaffirming them. Im going to wear more velvet, drink more wine, dance more, laugh more, hug more, drink more water, give more compliments, eat more fruit, read more, smile more, love more, make more art, get more massages, buy the expensive cheese more, pet the furkids more, cuddle with my NCB more. Im going to be more of who I really am and less of who other people have determined I should be (there's that word again).
Im going to be open to more of the beautiful moments in my life and Im not going to leave space for the nasty shit to make a home in my spirit. That's how Im going to change my world. Maybe this is the lesson of the Mayan Calendar. We can end the world as it has been and rebuild it into something better.
Happy New Year and Happy Webinox. Have a beautiful 2013.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Drill, Baby, Drill!
Okay, I admit it. I dislike going to the dentist. Most of us do. I don't "hate" it so much anymore, mostly because my dentist is awesome, but it still totally sucks. And also like a lot of us, while I worry about my family's health, I tend to neglect my own.
So after far too long a stretch of tooth pain which, at one point, interfered with my ingestion of margaritas (Gasp!), and ultimately interfered with...bum bum BUM!...eating sushi, I went to the dentist. I saw the doc last Wednesday for a cleaning and a chastising and a filling. Turns out that the cavity *under* a filling had actually gotten worse, so he had to drill it out and redo it. Afterwards he tells me that there's a pretty good chance that the filling isn't going to work and I'll wind up needing a root canal. What I like about him is that he doesn't bullshit me, he tells me stuff straight up *AND* he pays attention to my anesthetic needs. This one was rough though, there was a spot that refused to stop recognising the cold air from the suction that the assistant person was holding in my mouth. Yeah, I know that sounds a little dirty, bite me. You weren't there. It hurt like a fucker.
Fast forward to Friday night..I've got a touch of insomnia and I have to work Saturday morning. About 2:30-3ish, Im feeling the need for a nosh. Aha, we've got smoked salmon in the fridge and Webba's a happy bagel-eater! Yeah, that sounds a little dirty too. Again, bite me. Suddenly, I am in pain. Doc'd warned me that I was going to be uncomfortable for a few days, but wow...Pain with a capital P. So I pop Motrin and slather on the Ora-jel and pray for sleep. I set the alarm for 7 but cruelly woke up at 5:45. Yep, about 2 and a half hours sleep. Niiiiice. Pain and tired, always a winning combination.
I tried calling the denstist MANY times during my shift, but no luck. Turns out his answering machine wasn't working right. The office was incredibly apologetic today when I finally got through to them. But Saturday, no luck. I came home and cried. It hurt sooo bad. NCB and the vampire were great though. NCB wanted to take me to the ER because the pain was so bad, but I compromised by calling the advice nurse and finally got to speak to a doctor. I explained (for the third time...gotta love Kaiser) the problem and he prescribed me something called Tramadol. Ho-leee shit, that's strong stuff! From Saturday evening through Monday morning, I slept. At one point on Sunday, I realised I was hungry and reasoned out that I could probably eat a tuna sammich fairly successfully and I knew we had all the stuff. I dragged my ass up, pulled clothes on and zombie-walked into the kitchen. I took the cans from the cupboard, got the cheese from the fridge and....I couldn't do it. I could not make the sammich myself. I had to wuss out and go back to bed. NCB wound up fixing my lunch and brought it to me in bed. Later on that day, he came to check on me and realised I was in the bathroom. He promptly chastised me for not having him help me walk in there. Hint: Tramadol's worst side effects are dizziness and nausea. And oh my god, is Tramadol goooood at those side effects.
This weekend has further proven to me that I found the right man. My wonderful Naked Coffee Boy took such good care of me. He made sure I had anything I needed, took my drugs like I was supposed to, helped me get dressed and undressed while I was stoned. He was, and is, amazing and beautiful and I am so thankful that he is in my life. I love you, Schmoop.
I called my boss last night to let her know what was up and that I might have to leave early today to go to the dentist. She was great and basically just told me to keep her posted. I finally got through to my dentist about 10 this morning and the office was able to get me into an endodontist this afternoon for the root canal. They were amazing. The staff was kind and understanding. I lost it a little bit when the gal behind the desk told me it was going to be nearly 500 bucks though. I couldn't help it, I broke and cried. My dentist told me that a root canal would be covered 100% by my insurance, but it turned out that this endodentist is out of network. But Behind The Counter Gal talked to her doc and he said he was willing to accept the 80% my insurance would pay as full payment. I cried a little more. I apologised and thanked her and reassured her that I am normally much more badass that this but that I'd had a horrible weekend. She was so kind and so reassuring.
The dentist rocked. Im just gonna say it. He fucking rocked. He was kind of Doogie Howser-young, but foxier, very straight forward and charming, but not sleazy or gross. He explained what he'd be doing and then as I mumbled questions during the procedure around the dental dam "tooth draping" contraption he put in my mouth, he answered them. And they had dark glasses that fit over MY glasses! So I wasn't staring into the sun like it usually feels like at the dentist with those blinding overhead lights. He even did the one thing I asked..no, begged of him. He numbed the shit out of me. Nu-umb!! I was numb up to the eyeballs, and even my eyelid was kind of numb. It was great! After days of pain radiating into my temple, I was NUMB!! Wahoooooo! Bliss!
The whole thing took no time at all and I. felt. nothing. The drilling sound awful and weird of course, and some of the contraptions were alarming, but I didn't feel ANYTHING. I was so tired that I yawned a bunch of times. He reassured me that if I fell asleep it was totally fine, but of course I didn't..he was drilling my tooth and that is just not conducive to napping. Plus it had clearly been a long day for him...his stomach kept growling.
I've been warned that the next few days Im still going to hurt and given instructions to take the prescribed antibiotics and pain meds and see my regular dentist in about a week for the permanent filling.
And while he's out of network with my insurance, I'd recommend him in a heartbeat.
I think it's time for a pain pill and my bed now. Ima take advantage of this whole "numb" thing and try to sleep.
So after far too long a stretch of tooth pain which, at one point, interfered with my ingestion of margaritas (Gasp!), and ultimately interfered with...bum bum BUM!...eating sushi, I went to the dentist. I saw the doc last Wednesday for a cleaning and a chastising and a filling. Turns out that the cavity *under* a filling had actually gotten worse, so he had to drill it out and redo it. Afterwards he tells me that there's a pretty good chance that the filling isn't going to work and I'll wind up needing a root canal. What I like about him is that he doesn't bullshit me, he tells me stuff straight up *AND* he pays attention to my anesthetic needs. This one was rough though, there was a spot that refused to stop recognising the cold air from the suction that the assistant person was holding in my mouth. Yeah, I know that sounds a little dirty, bite me. You weren't there. It hurt like a fucker.
Fast forward to Friday night..I've got a touch of insomnia and I have to work Saturday morning. About 2:30-3ish, Im feeling the need for a nosh. Aha, we've got smoked salmon in the fridge and Webba's a happy bagel-eater! Yeah, that sounds a little dirty too. Again, bite me. Suddenly, I am in pain. Doc'd warned me that I was going to be uncomfortable for a few days, but wow...Pain with a capital P. So I pop Motrin and slather on the Ora-jel and pray for sleep. I set the alarm for 7 but cruelly woke up at 5:45. Yep, about 2 and a half hours sleep. Niiiiice. Pain and tired, always a winning combination.
I tried calling the denstist MANY times during my shift, but no luck. Turns out his answering machine wasn't working right. The office was incredibly apologetic today when I finally got through to them. But Saturday, no luck. I came home and cried. It hurt sooo bad. NCB and the vampire were great though. NCB wanted to take me to the ER because the pain was so bad, but I compromised by calling the advice nurse and finally got to speak to a doctor. I explained (for the third time...gotta love Kaiser) the problem and he prescribed me something called Tramadol. Ho-leee shit, that's strong stuff! From Saturday evening through Monday morning, I slept. At one point on Sunday, I realised I was hungry and reasoned out that I could probably eat a tuna sammich fairly successfully and I knew we had all the stuff. I dragged my ass up, pulled clothes on and zombie-walked into the kitchen. I took the cans from the cupboard, got the cheese from the fridge and....I couldn't do it. I could not make the sammich myself. I had to wuss out and go back to bed. NCB wound up fixing my lunch and brought it to me in bed. Later on that day, he came to check on me and realised I was in the bathroom. He promptly chastised me for not having him help me walk in there. Hint: Tramadol's worst side effects are dizziness and nausea. And oh my god, is Tramadol goooood at those side effects.
This weekend has further proven to me that I found the right man. My wonderful Naked Coffee Boy took such good care of me. He made sure I had anything I needed, took my drugs like I was supposed to, helped me get dressed and undressed while I was stoned. He was, and is, amazing and beautiful and I am so thankful that he is in my life. I love you, Schmoop.
I called my boss last night to let her know what was up and that I might have to leave early today to go to the dentist. She was great and basically just told me to keep her posted. I finally got through to my dentist about 10 this morning and the office was able to get me into an endodontist this afternoon for the root canal. They were amazing. The staff was kind and understanding. I lost it a little bit when the gal behind the desk told me it was going to be nearly 500 bucks though. I couldn't help it, I broke and cried. My dentist told me that a root canal would be covered 100% by my insurance, but it turned out that this endodentist is out of network. But Behind The Counter Gal talked to her doc and he said he was willing to accept the 80% my insurance would pay as full payment. I cried a little more. I apologised and thanked her and reassured her that I am normally much more badass that this but that I'd had a horrible weekend. She was so kind and so reassuring.
The dentist rocked. Im just gonna say it. He fucking rocked. He was kind of Doogie Howser-young, but foxier, very straight forward and charming, but not sleazy or gross. He explained what he'd be doing and then as I mumbled questions during the procedure around the dental dam "tooth draping" contraption he put in my mouth, he answered them. And they had dark glasses that fit over MY glasses! So I wasn't staring into the sun like it usually feels like at the dentist with those blinding overhead lights. He even did the one thing I asked..no, begged of him. He numbed the shit out of me. Nu-umb!! I was numb up to the eyeballs, and even my eyelid was kind of numb. It was great! After days of pain radiating into my temple, I was NUMB!! Wahoooooo! Bliss!
The whole thing took no time at all and I. felt. nothing. The drilling sound awful and weird of course, and some of the contraptions were alarming, but I didn't feel ANYTHING. I was so tired that I yawned a bunch of times. He reassured me that if I fell asleep it was totally fine, but of course I didn't..he was drilling my tooth and that is just not conducive to napping. Plus it had clearly been a long day for him...his stomach kept growling.
I've been warned that the next few days Im still going to hurt and given instructions to take the prescribed antibiotics and pain meds and see my regular dentist in about a week for the permanent filling.
And while he's out of network with my insurance, I'd recommend him in a heartbeat.
I think it's time for a pain pill and my bed now. Ima take advantage of this whole "numb" thing and try to sleep.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Shoulding all over ourselves
What is this weird current thought that says that it’s not okay to need positive reinforcement about our value from people close to us? Why do we seem to be so convinced lately that we must know, in every moment of every day and with every breath, that we are exactly perfect just as we are? Why is it wrong to want (or occasionally need) someone to remind us we’re wonderful once in awhile?
It doesn’t help when every single commercial and every single magazine (and let me just say, “Fuck you, Cosmo”) tells us that we’re just not good enough. We’re not thin enough, rich enough, wearing the right shoes/dress/mascara or whatever. They tell us over and over again that no matter how hard we try, we cannot possibly be as good as we “should” be.
I have one amazing, fabulous, beautiful friend who is in the process of learning, after having gone through some pretty serious shit the last few years, that she is, in fact, amazing, fabulous and beautiful. Most days she seems to know she rocks, but from time to time the mean girls in her head tell her she’s not. Let me just say this for the record: The Mean Girls™ LIE. They are more full of shit than your lower intestine. But sometimes….well, sometimes they’re just louder and harder to ignore. And to top it all off, this phenomenal woman supposed to be a totally emotionally-self-supportive rock?! Fuck that.
These are the times when we get to lean on the people we love. This is when we call our Badass Girlfriends Who Are Probably Just As Insecure Sometimes As We Are. And these women who we know are amazing, even when *they* doubt themselves (I know..shocking, right?), these wonderful friends remind us that we’re just as amazing. That they’re just as inspired by our courage and strength and innate glory as we are of theirs.
Here’s the thing: You don’t get to be a grownup without collecting some baggage. We all have it and a lot of it sucks. The reality is that you simply cannot reach adulthood without schlepping some along with you. The trick is to keep it fitting in the overhead compartment. But just because maybe it’s a manageable size, doesn’t mean that you don’t occasionally need a hand lugging it up the stairs.
So stop picking on yourself. Stop thinking that needing that reassurance from time to time means that you don’t actually rock, because you do. If the Mean Girls™ start giving you shit, pour them a glass of wine and tell them they’re wrong about you. They’re wrong about themselves too. Because they’re you and you’re them and you should really be nicer to each other.
I love you. You are amazing and beautiful and glorious and inspiring and I’ll tell you that just as often as you need to hear it and even when you don’t, just because you deserve to hear it and I believe in telling the truth.
“You should believe in yourself so hard you shit your pants”
--@lifecoachers via Twitter
~W
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
F*cking crying
I cry easily. It pisses me off sometimes. Crying has always been how I unload, when I am unbelievably stressed out and tired and and broke and stretched too thin and not taking care of myself/getting enough sleep/wearing a coat because it's cold out and don't I know Im going to catch my death of a cold/everything else my mother always lectured me to do.
Sometimes I cry because something is just so beautiful, so ineffably unspeakably amazing and awe-filled, I just can't help but weep. Music does it sometimes, or a glorious sunset, or the sudden realisation that the Universe in all Her infinite grace just fucking loves me.
Or a long distance commercial. Or that one...you know the one for the SPCA with Sarah Mclachlan singing and all the dogs and the kitten with a cast on its paw? Yeah, that one. Those fuckers get me every time.
Today I cried out of pure frustration. In my office. Twice.
And there were witnesses. Yeah....both times.
At least it wasn't actually about work. I was losing my mind at my doctor's office. Yes, what I have going on is important and alarming and painful and ugly and totally doing wonders for my ego and no, it's probably not going to kill me or cause permanent damage to my already bad vision (probably anyway, though it's kind of actually a real concern) and yes, I've spoken to the advice nurse and the office nurse and a few other people and I finally got this goddamned "urgent" appointment (two days later, but who's counting?) and NO YOU MAY NOT CANCEL IT!
So I complained as politely as a woman can when her eyelids are flaking off her face one layer of skin at a time (thanks, Seasonal Allergies, for this new and 'interesting' symptom). I still have that appointment, just a little bit later in the morning, but Im okay with that. When I apologised to the nurse for getting mad at her, she laughed and told me I was the nicest mad person she's ever dealt with and why can't all her patients get mad at her like I did? A weird compliment but it made me laugh a little as I hung up.
Hopefully tomorrow I won't cry and I will get some relief for whatever the hell it is that my eyes are doing. My doc (an NP actually) rocks. If you have Kaiser and live in Sacramento and want a good adult medicine provider, let me know. I'll happily give you her name and number.
My day did get better. Much better. I came home to my lovely Naked Coffee Boy who, with the help of the Vampire Child (his oh-so-13 year old daughter), fixed homemade potato soup, made with half-n-half and cheese and BACON. It was like a warm creamy bowl of baked potato-ness...pure joy.
~W
PS...the SPCA is an amazing organisation. My Baxter was a shelter dog and has grown into a wonderful buddy. Save a life, adopt a pet.
Sometimes I cry because something is just so beautiful, so ineffably unspeakably amazing and awe-filled, I just can't help but weep. Music does it sometimes, or a glorious sunset, or the sudden realisation that the Universe in all Her infinite grace just fucking loves me.
Or a long distance commercial. Or that one...you know the one for the SPCA with Sarah Mclachlan singing and all the dogs and the kitten with a cast on its paw? Yeah, that one. Those fuckers get me every time.
Today I cried out of pure frustration. In my office. Twice.
And there were witnesses. Yeah....both times.
At least it wasn't actually about work. I was losing my mind at my doctor's office. Yes, what I have going on is important and alarming and painful and ugly and totally doing wonders for my ego and no, it's probably not going to kill me or cause permanent damage to my already bad vision (probably anyway, though it's kind of actually a real concern) and yes, I've spoken to the advice nurse and the office nurse and a few other people and I finally got this goddamned "urgent" appointment (two days later, but who's counting?) and NO YOU MAY NOT CANCEL IT!
So I complained as politely as a woman can when her eyelids are flaking off her face one layer of skin at a time (thanks, Seasonal Allergies, for this new and 'interesting' symptom). I still have that appointment, just a little bit later in the morning, but Im okay with that. When I apologised to the nurse for getting mad at her, she laughed and told me I was the nicest mad person she's ever dealt with and why can't all her patients get mad at her like I did? A weird compliment but it made me laugh a little as I hung up.
Hopefully tomorrow I won't cry and I will get some relief for whatever the hell it is that my eyes are doing. My doc (an NP actually) rocks. If you have Kaiser and live in Sacramento and want a good adult medicine provider, let me know. I'll happily give you her name and number.
My day did get better. Much better. I came home to my lovely Naked Coffee Boy who, with the help of the Vampire Child (his oh-so-13 year old daughter), fixed homemade potato soup, made with half-n-half and cheese and BACON. It was like a warm creamy bowl of baked potato-ness...pure joy.
~W
PS...the SPCA is an amazing organisation. My Baxter was a shelter dog and has grown into a wonderful buddy. Save a life, adopt a pet.
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