Tuesday, February 09, 2016

A QUICKIE

I don't know about you, but cold weather makes me hungry for warm things.

It was snowing and yucky on my way to work, so I couldn't stop anywhere and get breakfast because my windshield had started freezing over (my heater was having one of it's not working days) and I wanted to get to work before I couldn't see anymore.

I had food in my bag, so I didn't starve or anything, but it was all cold and my brain is now telling the rest of me that it wasn't good enough and still wants something hot.

I'm not even hungry anymore, but I'd kiss someone right on the mouth if they'd bring me a biscuit.

(I think people may see that more of a threat than an enticement these days, but I'll at least leave it as an option.) 

Monday, February 08, 2016

MORE RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) I can't believe it's the second week of February already!  This is nuts.  My mother always told me that when you get older, time goes faster, and now I understand!  I think I've figured out the phenomena, though.

Every day is the same. Well, close enough, anyway!  I don't think I have ever realized this until I started working at the church.  I have such a regular set of things that I have to do each week that the days just blend into one another.  It's really kind of weird when you think about it.  I bet it's the same when you have to drive a lot for your work; just miles and miles of road that eat up your time and after a while, you stop seeing it.  I'm lucky to have the job I have, so no complaints exactly, but you do have to break things up a bit.  Luckily, I have a few things I do to make things more fun!  Otherwise I'd wake up and be 100 years old and have no idea what had happened!

2) Sorry, I'm just realizing that I'll be another year older soon and I'm trying to fight off the panic of getting old.  Well, older. I don't guess I'm old enough to be OLD just yet. I just start getting kind of breathless when I realize how old I am and that there are so many things I want to do! I've barely started!  *wheeze, wheeze, wheeze...uses inhaler...*

I'm going to have to start thinking about who I'm going to do for my midlife crisis soon!  Hee!

3) You guys, I have a problem. Ok, it isn't a real problem. Well sort of. It's a stupid thing, really, and also kind of embarrassing, but only in the sense that it's about underwear.  If you don't want to read about underwear, then you can skip this one.  I apologize.

Last Friday, I was shopping and I found myself in the lingerie section of a store. They didn't have what I'd specifically been looking for, but they did have lots of pretty bras and I like pretty bras!  They even had some in my size! It's rare enough to find pretty bras in the size I need that I tend to seize the moment and get them if I can.

Let me stop here and explain that, for those of you who don't know the actual, in person me, I have been blessed with what my sister refers to as bodacious tatas.  I don't know how bodacious they are, but there you go.  (*EDIT: I feel I need to be more clear, here. This is why I have trouble finding nice bras on my size. At a certain point, they either get prohibitively expensive because you have to go to special shops, or they go ugly industrial elastic and rubber, or porn-star stuff that I don't think would work under normal clothes. I'm not bragging or anything like that.)

Anyway, so I bought two of them and decided to wear one today, and although it's doing it's job admirably as far as keeping everything contained, the bra is creaking. It's creaking like an old wooden ship being rocked by waves. It's awful. Every time I move, I sound like an old rocking chair. I think it might be the wire inside rubbing against whatever the bra is made of, but it's embarrassing and I'm afraid to move around too much because it's loud enough for others to hear it!  I'm lucky that I work with people who have their own offices, but if I have to take something to them they're going to wonder why my boobs are creaking.  I'm sure there's a joke in this somewhere, but you'll have to figure it out for me.

4) Sometimes I am forcefully reminded that I am not enough. I don't know if that makes sense to anyone else. I've never been enough. I guess something is missing. I wish I knew what. 

5) I have been slowly, but surely, clearing out my home office since Friday night.  Steve is installing some shelving in there that, hopefully, will alleviate the cluttering issue I have now.  It had gotten way out of hand.  I try to keep my books and art supplies in there, and I have a LOT of books and art supplies.  I had actually forgotten that it had once been a small dining room and was big enough for a family to eat in since there was very little room to move around!

While I was going through stuff, I found a lot of old pictures and things from my high school days. I had a nice little stroll down memory lane, although, something about looking at old pictures makes me melancholy.  I guess it's because so many of those people aren't a part of my life anymore, but even pictures of the good times always make me a bit sad.  That always happens.  Who knows why.  At any rate, I got a chance to look through a lot of my pictures of old friends and good times!  I even found my senior portraits and I can't believe how young I looked!  I also had some weird eyebrow game going, because in a lot of those pictures, I looked MAD.  Haha!  I always feel mentally that I'm still that age, but it's an unpleasant realization that I'm 20 years older when I look in the mirror!  I mean, I'm still really adorable, and have the bodacious tatas (ha) but still, I'm 20 years older.  At least my eyebrows aren't as angry! Silver linings!

Monday, January 25, 2016

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) Allow me to rant for a second.  I'm sorry, I realize that the last thing you probably want on a Monday is to hear someone complain, but may I just reiterate how much I HATE IT when people ignore questions I have asked?  Not just tell me they can't answer me, but literally just not acknowledge I've asked anything?!  I just...I don't even understand why this is even a thing that happens!  It's so fucking rude.  Pardon my language, but it is.  It is bad mannered, rude, insulting and hurtful.  Basically, it's the same thing as someone telling me that I matter so little in the scheme of things that they don't even have to respond to me. It's bad enough in a personal conversation.  Actually, it's worse in a personal conversation because friends shouldn't do that to you, but it's infuriating in a work situation. If you work with people who think so little of you that they will ignore the things you say, then you should probably start looking for another place to work because they aren't even affording you the most basic respect you deserve.

If I were asking personal questions, or if I were out of line asking something, it would be one thing. I'd get that. If I'm going to ask what I think is a personal question, I always preface it with an option not to answer.  But FFS, just don't do that!  If you can't answer, or even if you prefer not to answer, say that much.  I'm literally having nightmares about this lately.  I used to have nightmares about people not listening to me when I had important things to tell them, but now the nightmares consist of me asking questions and people not answering me.  They just talk round and round and I have woken up in tears. I hate that SO MUCH.

Now, some of you are thinking that I'm overreacting, and maybe you don't care if people ignore you.  Give you a cookie. I don't know, maybe it is silly, but I do care and it is like a slap in the face. If there is something so wrong with me that I don't deserve to be acknowledged, I beg of you, please tell me.  I'm being 100% serious about that. TELL ME.  If I understand why this keeps happening, I can deal with it.  But it's like I'm invisible. I'm so tired of being invisible.

 Sorry.  I needed to get that off my chest. People suck.

2) Our power went off at work this morning!  It was fun, except that I was alone, and the church is big and it makes scary sounds when there are no other sounds to cover it up!  Luckily, I had brought the portable spotlight (or bright-ass flashlight) that Mr. Lee gave me for Christmas to replace the sad dollar store one we've had for a while. That kept the monsters away!  If it hadn't, it would have made a spectacular blunt object.

The only problem is that it seems to have fried our membership program, which is something we need to keep up with records.  I've been trying to fix it all morning, but the program is old and on the verge of no longer being supported. The only option of getting the program updated is subscribing to the new software which is on a cloud server, and that might not fly because they keep the membership stuff on a computer that isn't allowed to be connected to the internet.  I'm going to have to explain why this should be OK.  I don't look forward to it. I'm the only one who works here that seems to understand that software needs to be replaced occasionally.

3) We got snowed in on Saturday!  We were supposed to go on a road trip to Atlanta, but we had to cancel it. We actually had to go to buy something we needed for some kind of home project Steve is working on (and after the cluster frak that we had ordering parts online we decided to go to the actual store, the closest of which is in Atlanta.) After years and years of asking, I had FINALLY gotten Steve to agree to go to the Aquarium while we were there and then we had to cancel.  Boo. 

It was boring being stuck in the house, but it wasn't terrible.  Like I told a friend, at least I was warm and didn't have to wear pants most of the day! Silver lining!  Atlanta will still be there whenever we decide to go again.  Whether or not I can get Steve to the Aquarium will be another story! 

Shut up. I like looking at fishes. I was a mermaid in a former life.

Thursday, January 14, 2016

It isn't that I don't want to jump. It's just that I am having trouble finding the edge.

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

MORE RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) The University of Alabama won another college national championship game!  Good for them.  We didn't watch the whole thing, but we checked in on the score periodically!  We did watch the last part of the game, and if that was any indication, then I'm glad I didn't watch it all.  Football makes me tense!

My coworker, who I'm sure I've told you is a HUGE Alabama fan (maybe even more so than my father was, and he was the most die-hard fan I'd ever known) was thrilled, of course.  He came in with a big grin and an Alabama sweatshirt on.  He and the pastor stood and talked about the game for a while, but I managed to tune most of it out.  He's in there right now watching replays.  I hope this doesn't last the rest of the week.

2) Kind of related, but not really... There is a chance I've mentioned this before, but I'm not sure. I'm almost hesitant to mention it now because it's a bit crass, but I noticed this and now I can't unsee it. I blame the classes I had to take in art history for my perception of it and I apologize in advance if you immediately think I'm gross for it.  The college National Championship logo bothers me.  I know it's a stylized football. I KNOW THIS.  However, the more I look at it, the more it looks distractingly female.  More specifically, it looks like a yoni.  There are a lot of depictions of those in ancient art, and once I made the connection, I can't see it any other way. It's simultaneously funny and embarrassing.

3) I've been working hard on the wedding invitations that I talked about, and I've got several drafts so far! Yay!  I'd like to make a couple more, though, just to be safe.  I know that sounds crazy, but I'm always afraid that I'm going to hand over a bunch of drafts and they will not like ANYTHING.  I even flat out copied the one she sent me as an example (with minor changes, of course) so that she can't be completely dissatisfied with everything.  As silly as it probably sounds, doing any kind of creative work is nerve wracking. When you pull pictures or words out of your head for someone else to judge, it's a very vulnerable feeling.  It's like pulling out your liver (you know, to show someone who likes livers) and hoping that they don't say "Oh, that's a sub-par liver."  I mean, it's the only liver you have!  It's even worse when you can't get the stuff out of your head and translated onto a page.  Don't get me wrong, I love doing this sort of thing. When it all works out, it's a fantastic feeling, but when it doesn't, you can't help but feel like you will never be able to do anything creative again. 

Oh, such a tortured existence for an artist. :) Ha!

4)  We have a couple from our church getting married in the fall and they're so cute.  They are an older couple that have been dating for several years and finally decided to make it official!  There is something so sweet about older people deciding to get married.  I know that sounds a bit condescending, but I really don't mean it that way.  I mean, it's wonderful (and getting more rare) when people can get married young and stay married for a million years.  However,  I always think it's special when people who think that kind of thing is over and done with for themselves find someone else to love.  It's nice.  Hooray for love!*

*Yes, as jaded and cynical on that subject as I've been, you know I have to mean it to say it! :)   

Thursday, January 07, 2016

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) You'll be either glad or disappointed to know that I never had to take another one of my anti-pain pills.*  I probably could have done, but I was always afraid I'd need to drive somewhere and I wouldn't have been in any state to do so.  I never actually found out what was wrong with me, but I guess it was good I went to the doctor just in case. I'm going to keep telling myself that, because otherwise I'm going to bring myself to the point of actually dying before I go back again.

*I originally called them "Pain Pills" but then realized that the name sort of implied that the pills caused pain instead of stopping it, so I changed it. Also, getting rid of unusued pain medication is complicated.  You can't just flush it away, apparently.  There are rules and stuff.  Oh, well.

2) Speaking of being on medication, I had to take Benadryl last night and it's almost noon and I haven't shaken off the floopiness yet. I wonder if I took too much?  The box wasn't in there with the medicine, so I wasn't sure.  I only took two, though.  That's normal, right? Two is usually normal. I'm still so logy and fuzzy headed, and also weirdly emotional for some reason.  No joke, I was checking my email to see if a friend had responded to something I sent, and there wasn't anything there, and I almost cried.  I don't know why.  I literally had to sternly remind myself that people have other stuff to do. Still, though, if anyone spoke sharply to me right now, I'd probably collapse in a puddle of tears. It's completely irrational.  I originally had to take the Benadryl because I broke out in a weird rash after eating some chocolate I got for Christmas. That has never happened before and I've had that particular kind of chocolate before as well.

I swear to God if I have become allergic to chocolate, I'll have to seriously consider whether life is still worth living.

3) Christmas was great, by the way.  We spent it with family and also had some quiet time and we watched the Doctor Who Christmas special.  We spent a very quiet New Years eve at home, but we had cookies and grape juice and things that made sounds.  We had champagne, but Steve has been sick and we didn't think it would be smart for him to mix alcohol with his meds.  I didn't think it would be smart to have a whole bottle of champagne to myself, seeing that I'd probably wind up topless on my neighbor's roof, so I stuck with grape juice, too.  I wish we'd been able to go someplace like we did last year, but we made it work.  My new year resolutions? Meet new things and try new people.

While I was making the cookies, I accidentally took the mixer out of the batter before the whirlygigs stopped spinning, and cookie goo went EVERYWHERE.  I had to change clothes. I also keep finding bits of cookie dough shrapnel in weird places.  My hand mixer must have a V8 in it.  The resulting cookies were delicious, though, so maybe I'm on to something!

4) I feel so bad!  One of my work responsibilities is to pay everyone.  I have spreadsheets that I copy over every year so that taxes and stuff are automatically deducted. I've never had a problem with them, but as we were closing out the books for the end of 2015, we noticed that the pastor's pay was way too much.  We couldn't figure out why, so when we went back and looked, we realized that for some reason his spreadsheet had a broken formula, and I hadn't been deducting his retirement at all last year.  I was still paying his retirement, but it wasn't coming from his salary like it should have been.  It never occurred to me to check the dang spreadsheet, because usually if a formula goes bad, there is some kind of error message.  Now he has to pay back the money I overpaid.  Well, the church wasn't going to require it, but he's honest and didn't feel right keeping it.  I feel terrible. :( 

I also had to do the taxes for the church employees, and while it's really not a terribly complicated thing, I'm always so scared I'm going to screw it up.  I started on them on Monday, and by the time I got home I was so stressed that I went to bed and pulled the covers over my head for a while like a 4 year old.  I wish I wasn't so useless!

5) I've got another freelance project that I'm getting ready to start on this month! I'm doing wedding invitations for the daughter of someone in Steve's band.  The wedding is in April, so I hope I haven't waited too late to start on them. Some people want everything well before they need to be sent, and I don't want the bride to freak out.  I'm kind of nervous about doing any design work since I couldn't even get an idea for the last thing I was asked to do, but I can probably handle this.  Hopefully!  Fingers crossed.


Monday, December 21, 2015

YOU CALL HIM DR. JONES, DOLL...

So...Saturday morning I woke up in a great amount of pain.  I won't elaborate too much, because when it comes to pain, elaboration isn't altogether necessary. Let's just say that it was somewhere in between "Wow, this is kind of bad" and "This is appendicitis and I need to go to the hospital."

I thought I could tough it out, honestly, because what are the chances that I'd wake up with appendicitis out of nowhere, really?  I figured that the pain would stop and I'd go about my day.  Only, it didn't stop.  It got a bit more bearable, but it didn't go away.  I think I've mentioned that I'm not the kind of person who goes to the emergency room for just anything (and the fact that I went to a walk-in clinic for what I thought was a heart attack should be proof enough) but this time I decided that I should probably go and get checked out.  I couldn't stand up straight and it felt like I was slowly being stabbed in my right side.  Granted, as the pain had lessened a bit, I knew I wasn't in immediate danger or anything, but if something inside of me is getting ready to explode, I thought it might be best to see about getting ahead of any unpleasantness.  I was determined to take a shower and put on clean clothes before going, so I (quickly) did that and we drove to the hospital.

We were taken back to a room impressively quickly, and I was immediately given an IV and had blood drawn.  Then I was given pain meds and everything got so shiny and bright.  They x-rayed me, gave me a CT scan, and then the doctor came in to talk to me.  The pain had quietened down a bit, so I wasn't in agony, but when the starting pressing down on my side, I felt like a water balloon on the brink of popping.  It was a weird feeling, but it wasn't terrible.  The doctor left us to wait until they could run tests and see what was going on, and that is how we were for several hours.  I kept thinking how embarrassed I was that I was at the hospital and wasn't hurting anymore, but Steve kept reminding me that I'd been given pain meds, so I shouldn't be hurting.

I have this fear, or if not a fear, a concern, that I'm going to end up being the kind of person who goes to the emergency room for absolutely no reason and waste everyone's time.  That is the main reason I always usually go to the walk-in clinic when something's wrong.  I know a lot of nurses, so I don't want to be an unnecessary burden on them in case someone who needs them more comes in.  I kept apologizing on the off chance that there was nothing wrong with me.  I'm sure they were annoyed, but they all assured me that it was better that I came in, just in case.  I just don't want to bother people.  That's pretty much the crux of the matter.

I'll be honest, though, I was expecting to be operated on that day.  Steve and I discussed all of the things that we might need to discuss in the event I needed surgery, my DNR preference, the go ahead to take out anything that needed to be taken out, and if I died, donate everything salvageable.  You know, the normal stuff.  I even gave him the info on how to implement my zombie apocalypse plan in case it happened while I was unconscious (I should have never watched the first episode of The Walking Dead. Also, pain meds are fun.)  We waited and waited, but no one came in to tell us anything.  We noticed that the ER doc who had seen me was Dr. Jones (unfortunately, his first name was not Indiana) and Steve started cracking Indiana Jones jokes that made me laugh, which didn't feel good, but it was good to laugh.  I'm not sure how long we were there, but the nurse came back in to tell me all of my tests were OK and I could leave.  They didn't explain the angry wolverine that had been trying to claw itself out of my abdomen earlier that day, which was disappointing.  I would have liked to know why that was happening.  They gave me  prescriptions for pain and anti-nausea medicine, I apologized again for any inconvenience, and we left.  So, I have no idea what happened to me Saturday morning, but I was pretty much OK by noon. I didn't hurt, but it felt like a balloon slowly inflating inside of me getting bigger and bigger. 

We went to Target to get the medicine, just in case, and I was still kind of high from the pain medicine they'd given me at the hospital. That was fun.  It wasn't too bad, because I think it had mostly worn off, but I know I texted a bit and maybe didn't make a lot of sense. I don't know, really.  Maybe no one else noticed!  I went home and slept a lot.  I didn't take a pain pill because I wasn't hurting, but I took one of the other ones.  Then I ate, which was a big mistake.  I spent the rest of the evening really, very unpleasantly.  I think it could have been a reaction to the medicine I'd taken, but I have no idea.

Sunday I woke up feeling like death on a stick, but I had to go to church and run the sound for the choir's Christmas cantata.  I was the only one who knew how to adjust the music, so I did that.  It wasn't terrible.  I wasn't in the same kind of pain I'd been in the day before, but mainly the "balloon" was still in there.  I decided that I wouldn't go to lunch with Steve and his dad, and instead went home where I slept for several more hours.  I'd even decided I wouldn't go back to church that night, because of the way I was feeling.  The balloon had been replaced by a feeling like I had been punched in the side and was having a pencil driven into me quite slowly, so I decided to take a pain pill.  I don't know what the pills are, but I know they aren't the really powerful ones.  I don't know what they are, but they WORK.  By the time Steve came home, I was not feeling any pain at all.  I also wasn't blinking, and with a bit of persuasion, I probably would have been convinced that I could have flown to church if I'd flapped my arms hard enough.  Apparently, I'm sensitive to this kind of stuff.  I told Steve that I was going to be fine, so he took me to church.

I don't think I have to tell you that I was only in the initial stages of feeling the effects of that pill when we got there.  I was cheerful, and not hurting, but I still wasn't blinking and the lights were so pretty.  I got steadily more "involved" with whatever I had taken as church went on.  I was running the sound and video system, which went OK at first, but the computer decided to switch off in the middle of things, and I slumped to the ground and scrabbled around with wires until I could make it work again. I had no idea what I was doing.  I also decided upgrading the computer to Windows 10 in the middle of service seemed like a great idea, even though I had no idea if our software was compatible.  By the time preaching got started, I was full on stoned.  I don't know how else to explain it.  All I could do is stare at the lights, and I had no idea what the pastor was talking about. I couldn't follow the music and I STILL wasn't blinking.  I got to the point where, had this been tequila instead of pain medicine, I would have had my top off and been sending rude Snapchats to everyone I knew.  I'm not kidding, I actually started thinking about doing just that, but thank the Lord and whatever pharmaceutical company that made my pills, it didn't disable my Jiminy Cricket voice.  That voice kept telling me "No, no, let's not do that, OK? This is neither the time nor the place."  I listened to that voice.

THANK GOD.

Today the balloon is back and it feels like I swallowed some staples, but I can't take anything until I get home because I have to drive.  I hope that I don't have to go back to the hospital.  Maybe not!  So that was my weekend!  Hope yours was as much fun! :)