Road Maps

It's been almost a year since I last blogged.

In the last year...

My divorce was finalized...

... and my ex-husband got engaged to his girlfriend of four months, two months after our divorce was finalized.

My sister and I made up... again. It seems to have stuck more this time. It's been 6 months and we're still talking. Win!

My step-sister and I broke up... technically, I was dumped. We were fine. Went to a Brewer's game together and then *boom* gone. I haven't heard from her in 10 months. Proof that there are no trustworthy people on this planet.

I dated two boys, one for short, one for longer. They were both of the same cut and quality, which is to say, not very high. I have no taste in men... apparently, so I'm taking a break. More, more and more proof that there are no trustworthy people on this planet, including myself.

I went to Costa Rica for a month. I wish I would have spent my time there better. It was beautiful, but I was partially homesick for my puppies and one of the above mistakes most of the time I was away. That doesn't mean that I didn't have a good time. I went zip-lining, twice. I walked suspension bridges. I ran on the beach. I ate rice and beans. It was lovely. It's just slightly tinged with regret.

Now, I'm back. Back in my old life. I work. I spend time with the dogs. I am alone. Almost, all the time. I am unmoored and drifting through this life with no purpose and no hope for the future. I have no one, no idea, no plan to anchor myself to.

If I keep busy, I don't have to think about it that much.

I need... something.

A LIttle Help From My Friends

I've been sick this week. Trivia last weekend must have gotten to me. On Tuesday, I thought I was just still tired and spring allergies were acting up. By Wednesday, I was kind of miserable.

I tried to go to work this morning. Steph and I were supposed to teach a class all day today together. I didn't want to leave her hanging.

J-boy texted me and asked how I was feeling this morning. I told him I felt like suck.

Two minutes later I got a phone call from the Saint.

It went a lot like this:

Saint: You need to go home.

Me: I'm okay...

Saint: You sound terrible. Go home.

Me: I'm not planning on staying all day...

Saint: I can be there in 15 minutes to drive for Steph.

Me: Actually, I was planning to teach my part this morning...

Saint: Do you hate yourself? Go home. I'll be there in 15 minutes.

Me: Ok, mom.

There is no arguing with the Saint. She orders you home, you go home.

The Saint helped out with the class in the morning and J-boy helped in the afternoon. It's nice that there are people I can count on to pick up the slack so I can stay home and be miserable in peace.

Writing this blog was taxing. I'm going to go lay down now.

One of These Days

One of these days, you will learn the difference between a shoulder to cry on and a punching bag. While I am always willing to be the former, I am not willing to be the latter anymore.

I get to matter.

You're not the only one who is disappointed.

As always, I'm here if you need me.

Shadows and Nightmares

Can someone stop this ride, please? I'd like to get off.

On Friday, I had another ultrasound done on my right breast. The lumps from before are stable, and one even seems to have gotten smaller (Yay!). But, and this particular "but" seems to be a reoccurring theme, they found a new lump.

The radiologist wants to just watch it and see if it's stable. My surgeon wants to operate or biopsy; she always wants to operate or biopsy. In this case, because I'd rather be careful, yet I don't want my breasts to look like a war zone, so I sided with my surgeon, but opted for the biopsy.

The nurse asked me if my doctor had explained the procedure to me. I said that she hadn't, but that it was unnecessary since I just had a biopsy in March.
She nodded sympathetically, but looked vaguely uncomfortable.
She asked if I had any questions.
"This is the one in the basement, right? They call me to schedule it?" I asked, just to make sure.
Unfortunately, these questions made the nurse explain the WHOLE procedure to me from beginning to end. I wanted to stop her, but I think it made her feel better to tell me, so I just let her go on.

It's funny (not 'ha ha' funny) how people respond to this kind of thing.
The radiologist was jovial. "You've had an awful lot of biopsies for someone your age!" with a giant smile.
Well, yeah. And thanks for bringing it up.

The radiology tech was apologetic. She mouthed "sorry" to me when she found the lump.
Me too. But I'd rather you found it, than not.

The surgeon was friendly. "It was great to get to see you again!" (super-upbeat tone)
Really? Maybe for you.

The husband is overly concerned. He asked if I wanted him to take off work to go with me to consult with the surgeon today. Sweet, and yet somehow annoying.
I'm not dying. And this appt was just so my surgeon could give her two cents about what I should do. Calm down.

I? Have an overactive imagination. When I'm there in the doctor's office, it's like I can see a corridor in time of what happens if it is cancer. I'm not going to explain what I see because an embarrassing amount of it is overly dramatic and silly. But, I think you're allowed to be a little overly dramatic and silly when considering the possibility of cancer, for at least a minute or two.

In a lot of ways, I am lucky. I keep winning the lottery. This thought helps keep me from being too maudlin or self indulgent, but it doesn't quite chase away the fear. That doesn't happen until everything comes back as okay and I forget about this until my next follow up appointment when this starts all over again.

Times are a changing

Changing is hard. 

This week, I'm going to try to change my schedule so that I can fit yoga into my daily routine. There is a yoga studio near where I work (Bliss Flow Yoga), so I can go during the day or early afternoon. The good thing about where I work is that it's very flexible, so if I want to step out for an hour to practice yoga, no big deal. 

The key is that I have to get up earlier to do it. 

To say that I'm not a morning person is the understatement of the century. 

Imagine a cranky, salty, curmudgeon who likes to rampantly curse about really small offenses. Yeah, that's basically me in the morning. 

So, it's going to be interesting to see how easily I adjust to getting up an hour earlier so that I can afford the time to go do this. 

It takes 21 days to create a habit, so this should only be a pain in the ass until it becomes a habit. I'm just not looking forward to trying to get to bed by 10, so that I can get a decent amount of sleep.

It's day one, and I've already missed 10 o'clock. 

Inner peace here I come? 

The Power of Cheese

There's no way around it. I'm having a bad week.

I wore my "Power of Cheese" shirt from Cheese Days today. I was hoping it would help power me through.

"The Power of Cheese compels you!"

So far, all it's gotten me is a speeding ticket.

I keep trying to tell myself that I see the light at the end of the tunnel, but then the little voice of evil in the back of my mind keeps cackling and says, "Yeah, that light at the end of the tunnel? Probably a train. Toot, toot! Peanut butter!"

Shut up! Stupid evil voice.

Bone Tired Drunk

We're back home again from San Antonio today and I am bone tired. 

There's a point at which being tired and being drunk feels pretty much the same. That is where I'm at now. 

The husband kept trying to tell jokes on the way home. 

I found it very confusing. 

Finally, I just looked at him and said, "Are you telling jokes again? Why do you keep trying to be funny? You know I don't understand what the fuck you're saying."

Short, uncomplicated sentences are all I'm really capable of understanding at the moment, when spoken anyway. 

Sleep good.

Bye.

I Get It, but Really, It's Been 10 Years. Get Over It.

My mother called me tonight and warned me that my step-dad's kids are on the war path, you know, just in case they happen to spew in my general direction.

Here's the thing. I get it. I get why they would be angry. They erroneously believe that their dad loves me and my sister more than them. Which is just pure crap, but they seem disinclined to give their dad any slack. Their dad left their mom for my mom. They believe their dad chose my mom over them. 

The last reason, in my humble opinion, is the most important. Again, I get it. If Sis-C or I had forced the choice, we believe Mom would have chosen him over us. It stings.

The difference is that we got over it. We didn't force her to choose. We decided that we'd rather have our mother in our lives than to hold a grudge. We even accepted our step-dad into our lives. Which isn't to say there wasn't any fall out or that there wasn't any damage done. 

We have 10 years of memories to keep with us. We've had our ups and downs, like any family, but there have been plenty of good times over the last decade. They have nothing, but hurt feelings and anger.

It didn't have to be that way. Exhibit A: The other side of my family. We're the fucking Brady bunch. We get along. We love each other. Hell, we don't even use the whole "step" appellation with one another. We're family.

It makes me sad for his kids. We all make choices and we have to live with the consequences, for better or worse. I doubt they have ever considered the choices that they've made. It's so much easier to lay blame than to take responsibility.

Bad Day

I have had a terrible day. 

On the way to work, my car spun out and I went into the ditch on the other side of the road. When I say spun out, I mean 360s. It sucked. 

Well, actually, it was kind of fun, except for being terrifying and possibly dying if another car were to hit me. 

I'm okay. The car (the stupid rental) is okay. 

Some good Samaritan pulled me and the car out of the ditch. Thank you, thank you, thank you to whoever you are. You made my life so much better today.

Certain other people were less helpful. 

I have no luck with cars. I need some good weather and happiness, STAT.

Rental Cars

Ever since the car accident (3 weeks ago already!!!), I've been driving a rental car. It's a blue 2008 Chevy Cobalt. Jealous?

If so, I don't think you've ever driven one. They're nothing to write home about.

Here's the problem with me driving a rental car: I went to Target this morning. After not finding what I was looking for, I wandered out into the parking lot in the general direction that I parked in. I didn't spot my car immediately, so I got confused about the row I parked in, especially since I made the mistake of not parking in my usual location. I wandered over another row.

Did I mention it's fucking freezing in Wisconsin right now? Below zero freezing?

It's only at this point after wandering around in below zero weather that I realized that I have been looking for my car, instead of the stupid rental car. The Cobalt doesn't even really have a distinctive shape, so I was practically on top of it before I realized I had located the correct vehicle.

This accident has been a real life lesson for me. Thanks Fate! Remind me to return the favor sometime! (In my head, this is when I shake my fist at the ceiling. Angrily.)

Things I have learned:
1. My car is awesome. I miss it. A lot.
2. Rental cars suck.
3. Insurance companies suck.
4. Causing an accident is OK. All will be taken care of for you.
5. You will rue the day you were ever hit by someone else. Everything will be as long, drawn out and painful as possible.
Awesome!

Looks like Hell

I must look like hell today.
My co-workers keep commenting on it.

GameBoy: You look terrible.
Thanks GB! He wasn't even trying to be mean. There was sympathy in his voice when he said it.

The Saint: Umm... you just look really, really tired.
At least she tried to be diplomatic!

I feel a little better (throat's not so scratchy and I'm not as cold), but I'm just so fucking exhausted I can barely function. It sucks because the husband and I had to cancel our date night tonight. I don't know how I'm going to make it through the next couple of hours at work before I go home, there's no way I can handle going to dinner and shopping with the husband.

Bright side? We need to clean the house before mr & mrs blume and family arrive next weekend. If I don't feel better, it may end up being a one man operation. Sorry husband, once again, you drew the short stick.

Sick, sick, sick

I think I might be getting sick.
My bones feel tired. I just want to lay down my head on my desk and go to sleep.
Also, the back of my throat is kind of scratchy. And I'm cold.

However, I can't take off from work even if I am sick since we have a deadline on the 18th.
Plus, the husband and I have a little date night planned for tomorrow night that I'm kind of excited about.

Really, what I'd love at this point, is a pause button. I could hit Pause, work this illness out of my system and then press Play when I'm ready to get back in the game.

Since that isn't an option, I'm just going to pretend it's not happening. Maybe it will go away.
The power of positive thinking?

I am not sick.
I am feeling better every minute that passes.

Or something like that.

It's a Marathon, not a Sprint

I am exhausted today.
The Olympics were on until past 11:30 last night and 11 on Sunday.
This leaves me conflicted.
I love sleep.
I will make a lot of compromises to get a few extra minutes of sleep.
I also love the Olympics.
The Olympics only come around once every couple of years.

This puts me in an impossible situation.
Go to bed and miss the United States men's gymnastic team's struggles to pull out the bronze medal last night?
Stay up and be exhausted?
Well it's obvious what choice I made, but I'm going to be one cranky bitch if I can't catch up on sleep at some point.

Oh well...
Did you see the United States struggles to pull it out for the bronze medal last night?
It was kind of crazy.
The hard part is not really understanding how they score gymnastics.
That Justin guy (may or may not be his name) impressed me the most.
Were there magnets in his feet?
It seemed like he stuck every landing like he was jumping into glue.
Impressive!

Also, did you see the American swimmers last night?
Holy buckets!
It's almost an embarrassment of riches on the US swim team!
Michael Phelps didn't just beat the competition... he crushed them!
Aaron Piersol has been a favorite for a while. His attitude out of the pool is such the laid back surfer dude. Yet, he's amazing to watch in the water. He doesn't seem like the type to have the killer instinct (ahem... like Michael Phelps) so maybe he's just that good?

Go team!

ETA:  The husband reminded me that in fact it was the Jonathan kid, not the Justin guy who impressed me.

This Makes Me Sad...

I read this article on MSN today...
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25875340/

Boo.
I can't even imagine how hard this would be.
For them, for their families.
You finally make it back. Make it back alive. And even then, you don't get any peace.
What kind of burden are we putting on a generation of young men and women in America?
Boo.

Frustrating

Today has been very frustrating. Grown-ups shouldn't need to be told to do their jobs properly, they should just do it.... argh!