I've stared at this same screen for 2 weeks now. That little cursor flashing at me. Taunting me to try to come up with something worthwhile to write. Something worthwhile just in general.
It's been a long year. A very, very long year.
When did we get so old and adult like? When did that happen? When did it become a regular occurrence to talk with friends about their chemo and cancer treatments instead of an older family member, like a great uncle?
When did we have so much "bad" stuff go on this year that I am to the point, I don't know whether I should drink lots of margaritas or hide under the bed. Or both.
But we keep on trucking. Trying to keep our head above water.
And crap just keeps getting thrown at us. We just keep going.
We are kinda like the energizer bunny. Except we aren't happy about it.
Well, we are happy we are alive, but otherwise, not impressed with all the "crap".
So while you might be visiting this page annoyed that nothing new is going on around here. Keep in mind that right now, my main focus is my mental stability.
Which after the year we've had, is starting to dangle by a thin thread. Be patient. Keep checking back. Follow me on twitter.
I'll be back soon.
Hopefully with a better attitude. And sarcasm.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Danger Will Robinson, Danger.
I have used this blog as a place to vent to and share deep and not so deep thoughts. Well, today this blog is going to become a personal outlet for some current frustrations in my life. Namely my mother. Don't get me wrong, I do love her, even though this post will probably not portray that.
Saturday evening we took my dad to the emergency room. Which right now seems like a lifetime ago, could be because I'm exhausted. But, I digress, and it's way to early to do that.
I don't understand how she couldn't see how very sick he was. I walked in the door and after 5 minutes of conversation with him, I knew that he wasn't ok, even though he insisted he was. He was panting like my dog does when he lays in the back yard in 100* weather and sun bathes. Yet, he was sitting almost completely still in a chair. He assured me that he was just having a bad day. Um. No. He wasn't thrilled to be going to the doctor when my grandmother, his mother, and I convinced him that he should be going to the doctor. But he finally caved. Which, I'm very thankful for, otherwise we would be planning his funeral. His doctors have assured me of that fact. Another couple of days and it would have been too late. Right now he lies in an ICU bed with a tube shoved into his stomach to provide him some type of nourishment, as well as on a ventilator. There isn't a doubt in my mind that another day and he would have died.
My mom wanted me to take him to the doctor while she watched over her grandkids, my niece and nephew who were visiting for Spring Break. Her reason was that he would change his mind. We intended to follow her with the children in tow. It wasn't the ideal situation, but you do what you have to do. My husband dealt with the children while I sat in the room with my father waiting on the test results. My mom debated leaving once we discovered that he was going to be admitted. I'm glad she didn't, simply because when his CO2 levels got too high, he kinda flipped out, and I was thankful that I wasn't there alone with him. Not because I was afraid of him, but because we needed 2 hands so he didn't rip his IV and stuff out, which could have been a disaster.
We finally got him moved to ICU and about 3am went home. She stopped by my house and we called my step-sister and shared with her the latest information. At 4am the hospital called to tell me that he was being moved to a ventilator, because his blood gases still weren't where they needed to be. Awesome. They also informed me that they were taking him for a CT scan, because they were concerned that something else might be wrong.
We finally managed to make it to bed, but at 5am, I heard my cookoo clock chirp. The nurse called again at 6:45, and my alarm went of at 9 so that I could call my grandmother and give her an update. As far as they knew, he only had pneumonia, they didn't know he was in ICU and I didn't want them to show up and the hospital and not be aware of what was going on. So I called and gave them the low down.
Sundays at my house usually involve a lot of things. Like cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping and homework, but since I'm on Spring Break this week, homework is just a very bad dream. My grandmother was at the hospital, so I figured that I would take the opportunity to clean and do a little laundry and that I would take the afternoon shift. So we spent an hour mopping and scrubbing, just in case my mom needed somewhere to crash, my house was neat and clean. Not that it's usually a mess, considering it took us a whole 60 minutes to get it done.
We got ready and headed to the hospital. We chatted with the nurse and got the low down on how he was doing today, and what the plan was now. My mom was planning on coming for the evening shift. But her electricity went out and she refused to leave. So she didn't come Sunday.
Monday, I had to work. I had planned on working full time this week, and even though he was in the hospital that was still my plan. I wanted the extra cash to help to catch us back up after John's bought with unemployment. So I got up and went to work. There was a misunderstanding between my mom and my grandmother and if not for my insistence, she probably wouldn't have made it on Monday night either.
There house was horrific when I was there Saturday. There kitchen was buried, their dining table buried, it was like watching an episode of hoarders unfold before my very eyes. There was trash, and groceries that needed to be put away, it was just horrific. So I'll admit that she needs her house cleaned. Bad. So Sunday afternoon and Monday she did just that. She has been cleaning and organizing her house. She blames it on my father that she can't accomplish this any other time, yet I remember when they first got married that he typically helped her, or at least left her alone to get it done.
Yesterday, she was supposed to come to the hospital. I called her at 8:30 and she was a no show. She was cleaning up my father's man cave and just wanted to get it done. Which, is fine, but if that were my husband laying in ICU on a ventilator, I would be there with him. Granted, I would need to be practical, and I might not be there every second, but I honestly don't know. I'd rather not find out how I have to react to that situation. He almost died and she is worried about cleaning her house than about him. Granted he is oblivious either way, but still.
She's never been one to visit people in the hospital. She doesn't come see her mother in law, she often didn't come see my grandfather when he was in the nursing home. And once we moved him to Lubbock, I'm not sure that she ever stepped foot in the door any other days other than the day he moved in and the day he died. She's not a visitor. She would rather you come to her, which I understand too. But life doesn't work that way. It makes me wonder what is really going on between her and my dad. It makes me wonder if they have quit being married and are more like roommates who are affectionate of each other, yet wouldn't mind it if the other walked off a tall cliff.
I was telling a good friend about how crazy it drove me, and she said it seemed heartless. She's right. It's also loveless. Sure, I can think of a million other things that I would rather be doing during those brief visits to the hospital. Yet, I'm there. Every.single.day. I'm exhausted. I had things I wanted to accomplish over Spring Break, and all of that has taken a back seat. It can wait. It's important that my father knows that someone loves him. That someone cares about him. It's important that he hears my voice. Even though I've had some odd conversations with him. I told him last night that his "food" looked like Eagle Brand Milk, but probably tasted like poo. Then that conversation continued on to discuss how exactly one knew what poo tasted like. I don't eat poo, I'm sure he doesn't. I'm pretty sure that's when I realized that I was exhausted. But he looks peaceful, which gives me a sense of comfort in hopes that he will be ok. That he is just busy getting better.
I'm not sure what's going to happen when he wakes up, or even when he goes home. But I have a funny feeling that this is going to change a lot of things in his life and my mothers life, whether they want it too or not. There is definitely going to be an intervention. He's in for a rude awakening. Wake up from a drug induced coma and suddenly your a non smoker, and a health food junkie. That'll teach him.
Saturday evening we took my dad to the emergency room. Which right now seems like a lifetime ago, could be because I'm exhausted. But, I digress, and it's way to early to do that.
I don't understand how she couldn't see how very sick he was. I walked in the door and after 5 minutes of conversation with him, I knew that he wasn't ok, even though he insisted he was. He was panting like my dog does when he lays in the back yard in 100* weather and sun bathes. Yet, he was sitting almost completely still in a chair. He assured me that he was just having a bad day. Um. No. He wasn't thrilled to be going to the doctor when my grandmother, his mother, and I convinced him that he should be going to the doctor. But he finally caved. Which, I'm very thankful for, otherwise we would be planning his funeral. His doctors have assured me of that fact. Another couple of days and it would have been too late. Right now he lies in an ICU bed with a tube shoved into his stomach to provide him some type of nourishment, as well as on a ventilator. There isn't a doubt in my mind that another day and he would have died.
My mom wanted me to take him to the doctor while she watched over her grandkids, my niece and nephew who were visiting for Spring Break. Her reason was that he would change his mind. We intended to follow her with the children in tow. It wasn't the ideal situation, but you do what you have to do. My husband dealt with the children while I sat in the room with my father waiting on the test results. My mom debated leaving once we discovered that he was going to be admitted. I'm glad she didn't, simply because when his CO2 levels got too high, he kinda flipped out, and I was thankful that I wasn't there alone with him. Not because I was afraid of him, but because we needed 2 hands so he didn't rip his IV and stuff out, which could have been a disaster.
We finally got him moved to ICU and about 3am went home. She stopped by my house and we called my step-sister and shared with her the latest information. At 4am the hospital called to tell me that he was being moved to a ventilator, because his blood gases still weren't where they needed to be. Awesome. They also informed me that they were taking him for a CT scan, because they were concerned that something else might be wrong.
We finally managed to make it to bed, but at 5am, I heard my cookoo clock chirp. The nurse called again at 6:45, and my alarm went of at 9 so that I could call my grandmother and give her an update. As far as they knew, he only had pneumonia, they didn't know he was in ICU and I didn't want them to show up and the hospital and not be aware of what was going on. So I called and gave them the low down.
Sundays at my house usually involve a lot of things. Like cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping and homework, but since I'm on Spring Break this week, homework is just a very bad dream. My grandmother was at the hospital, so I figured that I would take the opportunity to clean and do a little laundry and that I would take the afternoon shift. So we spent an hour mopping and scrubbing, just in case my mom needed somewhere to crash, my house was neat and clean. Not that it's usually a mess, considering it took us a whole 60 minutes to get it done.
We got ready and headed to the hospital. We chatted with the nurse and got the low down on how he was doing today, and what the plan was now. My mom was planning on coming for the evening shift. But her electricity went out and she refused to leave. So she didn't come Sunday.
Monday, I had to work. I had planned on working full time this week, and even though he was in the hospital that was still my plan. I wanted the extra cash to help to catch us back up after John's bought with unemployment. So I got up and went to work. There was a misunderstanding between my mom and my grandmother and if not for my insistence, she probably wouldn't have made it on Monday night either.
There house was horrific when I was there Saturday. There kitchen was buried, their dining table buried, it was like watching an episode of hoarders unfold before my very eyes. There was trash, and groceries that needed to be put away, it was just horrific. So I'll admit that she needs her house cleaned. Bad. So Sunday afternoon and Monday she did just that. She has been cleaning and organizing her house. She blames it on my father that she can't accomplish this any other time, yet I remember when they first got married that he typically helped her, or at least left her alone to get it done.
Yesterday, she was supposed to come to the hospital. I called her at 8:30 and she was a no show. She was cleaning up my father's man cave and just wanted to get it done. Which, is fine, but if that were my husband laying in ICU on a ventilator, I would be there with him. Granted, I would need to be practical, and I might not be there every second, but I honestly don't know. I'd rather not find out how I have to react to that situation. He almost died and she is worried about cleaning her house than about him. Granted he is oblivious either way, but still.
She's never been one to visit people in the hospital. She doesn't come see her mother in law, she often didn't come see my grandfather when he was in the nursing home. And once we moved him to Lubbock, I'm not sure that she ever stepped foot in the door any other days other than the day he moved in and the day he died. She's not a visitor. She would rather you come to her, which I understand too. But life doesn't work that way. It makes me wonder what is really going on between her and my dad. It makes me wonder if they have quit being married and are more like roommates who are affectionate of each other, yet wouldn't mind it if the other walked off a tall cliff.
I was telling a good friend about how crazy it drove me, and she said it seemed heartless. She's right. It's also loveless. Sure, I can think of a million other things that I would rather be doing during those brief visits to the hospital. Yet, I'm there. Every.single.day. I'm exhausted. I had things I wanted to accomplish over Spring Break, and all of that has taken a back seat. It can wait. It's important that my father knows that someone loves him. That someone cares about him. It's important that he hears my voice. Even though I've had some odd conversations with him. I told him last night that his "food" looked like Eagle Brand Milk, but probably tasted like poo. Then that conversation continued on to discuss how exactly one knew what poo tasted like. I don't eat poo, I'm sure he doesn't. I'm pretty sure that's when I realized that I was exhausted. But he looks peaceful, which gives me a sense of comfort in hopes that he will be ok. That he is just busy getting better.
I'm not sure what's going to happen when he wakes up, or even when he goes home. But I have a funny feeling that this is going to change a lot of things in his life and my mothers life, whether they want it too or not. There is definitely going to be an intervention. He's in for a rude awakening. Wake up from a drug induced coma and suddenly your a non smoker, and a health food junkie. That'll teach him.
Monday, March 12, 2012
When There Are No Words
I've been going to write a post for the better part of 2 weeks now, it was just one of those things where I didn't know what to write. I didn't know what to think or feel, I'm still not sure.
It's been a helluva year. We were looking forward to moving away from Papa and Grandpa's deaths last year. We were looking forward to starting my second year at Tech. We were looking forward to the summer, and to this week of Spring Break when we were going to take a weekend getaway.
Then everything started to go wrong. Very, very wrong.
John lost his job, we found out some disturbing information about my ex brother in law. My friend Andrea has been sick and in and out of the hospital. My husband's cousin's wife committed suicide. It's just been a cluster. Then my husband finds a job with some crazy hours. I send my sister-in-law a birthday wish and get some serious hate thrown back at me. My friend Andrea is diagnosed with liver cancer. She goes off to Houston and it's actually colon cancer that has spread to her liver and lymph nodes. She's 33. Then it's my dad, who is currently lying in a hospital bed in ICU on a ventilator. Oh and we can't forget the homework and the deadlines and tests and all that has come with going to college. The stresses with a job in an industry that has taken a major hit.
I'm worried about him, about Andrea, but at this point, I'm just numb. At some point in the last month something somewhere has short circuited and I'm just...I don't know.
I've got John's sister actually making an effort with our relationship at the same time his brother's wife is shoving me so far away. Then with everything else, it's amazing that my head is still attached to my body. It's even more amazing that I'm not locked in a padded room in a straight jacket with Prozac being shoved down my throat every few minutes.
I finally think that my husband is more worried about me than about everyone else. Probably because I'm not a cleaning fool like I usually am when life piles it on. I want to, I just don't know which problem to dwell on while I clean. And none of the current issues are ones that can be solved with a clean closet. Most of them are completely and totally out of my hands. There isn't anything I can do, other than try to keep rolling with the punches. Which is maybe the point. I have a tendency to hold on to stuff, and let it pile up until I just have a complete and total meltdown.
I wanted this week to be a vacation, one that only allowed me to work, and getting ready to spoil Andrea and her family when they got home, so that they could ease back into life instead of having it thrown at them. I wanted a breather from stress. Instead, I just had another dosage.
I wanted to ask God, now what? Obviously, I can handle more. But really? Really. I'm almost positive that I've prayed more in the last 3 months than I have in my entire life. Maybe that's the point too. I've prayed for Andrea and her family, I've prayed for my father to get better so I can kick his butt for getting this sick in the first place, I've prayed that my husband would love his job, I've prayed to let this be enough. I've prayed for good grades and for peace so that I don't get tests and sit down and freak out and fail the stupid things. I've prayed for things to be ok and us not loose our home when John lost his job. I've prayed for more hours in the day, and for sleep when I wake up several times at night.
I've learned that you can function and live on 3.25 hours of sleep. I've also learned that at some point, I have to take care of me. Thankfully, I have a husband who is helping do that.
My point with this post. Send some prayers our way. Otherwise, my head just might explode. Or my house will be as clean as a surgical table.
It's been a helluva year. We were looking forward to moving away from Papa and Grandpa's deaths last year. We were looking forward to starting my second year at Tech. We were looking forward to the summer, and to this week of Spring Break when we were going to take a weekend getaway.
Then everything started to go wrong. Very, very wrong.
John lost his job, we found out some disturbing information about my ex brother in law. My friend Andrea has been sick and in and out of the hospital. My husband's cousin's wife committed suicide. It's just been a cluster. Then my husband finds a job with some crazy hours. I send my sister-in-law a birthday wish and get some serious hate thrown back at me. My friend Andrea is diagnosed with liver cancer. She goes off to Houston and it's actually colon cancer that has spread to her liver and lymph nodes. She's 33. Then it's my dad, who is currently lying in a hospital bed in ICU on a ventilator. Oh and we can't forget the homework and the deadlines and tests and all that has come with going to college. The stresses with a job in an industry that has taken a major hit.
I'm worried about him, about Andrea, but at this point, I'm just numb. At some point in the last month something somewhere has short circuited and I'm just...I don't know.
I've got John's sister actually making an effort with our relationship at the same time his brother's wife is shoving me so far away. Then with everything else, it's amazing that my head is still attached to my body. It's even more amazing that I'm not locked in a padded room in a straight jacket with Prozac being shoved down my throat every few minutes.
I finally think that my husband is more worried about me than about everyone else. Probably because I'm not a cleaning fool like I usually am when life piles it on. I want to, I just don't know which problem to dwell on while I clean. And none of the current issues are ones that can be solved with a clean closet. Most of them are completely and totally out of my hands. There isn't anything I can do, other than try to keep rolling with the punches. Which is maybe the point. I have a tendency to hold on to stuff, and let it pile up until I just have a complete and total meltdown.
I wanted this week to be a vacation, one that only allowed me to work, and getting ready to spoil Andrea and her family when they got home, so that they could ease back into life instead of having it thrown at them. I wanted a breather from stress. Instead, I just had another dosage.
I wanted to ask God, now what? Obviously, I can handle more. But really? Really. I'm almost positive that I've prayed more in the last 3 months than I have in my entire life. Maybe that's the point too. I've prayed for Andrea and her family, I've prayed for my father to get better so I can kick his butt for getting this sick in the first place, I've prayed that my husband would love his job, I've prayed to let this be enough. I've prayed for good grades and for peace so that I don't get tests and sit down and freak out and fail the stupid things. I've prayed for things to be ok and us not loose our home when John lost his job. I've prayed for more hours in the day, and for sleep when I wake up several times at night.
I've learned that you can function and live on 3.25 hours of sleep. I've also learned that at some point, I have to take care of me. Thankfully, I have a husband who is helping do that.
My point with this post. Send some prayers our way. Otherwise, my head just might explode. Or my house will be as clean as a surgical table.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Not the Right Button
Friday night is typically date night at our house. We go out with friends, family or just by ourselves. It's the one night that I am guaranteed not to have to cook, except on rare occasions.
This past Friday, we were headed to the restaurant of choice, and we were stopped at a stop light. Sitting next to us was a bright yellow VW Bug.
We were making fun of the guy driving, his obviously girlfriend/wife's car because there was flowers in a vase inside the car.
He was also digging for some serious boogers while sitting at the light. Then he tried the "Be cool" moves in hopes that we hadn't seen him.
Sorry dude. We saw. We wished we hadn't but we did.
As the light changed, and he quickly sped off, my husband noticed that he had a transformer image (like the robot people that movies and toys are made of) on the back window.
The following conversation occurred:
Him: There's a transformer sticker on the back window.
Me: What? Does he think that actually makes his car transform into a transformer?
Him: I don't know.
Me: I'm pretty sure that's not where the button is. (Up his nostril)
Date night is so fun.
This past Friday, we were headed to the restaurant of choice, and we were stopped at a stop light. Sitting next to us was a bright yellow VW Bug.
We were making fun of the guy driving, his obviously girlfriend/wife's car because there was flowers in a vase inside the car.
He was also digging for some serious boogers while sitting at the light. Then he tried the "Be cool" moves in hopes that we hadn't seen him.
Sorry dude. We saw. We wished we hadn't but we did.
As the light changed, and he quickly sped off, my husband noticed that he had a transformer image (like the robot people that movies and toys are made of) on the back window.
The following conversation occurred:
Him: There's a transformer sticker on the back window.
Me: What? Does he think that actually makes his car transform into a transformer?
Him: I don't know.
Me: I'm pretty sure that's not where the button is. (Up his nostril)
Date night is so fun.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Things I don't Understand
This is just a random list of things that have absolutely made no sense to me whatsoever in the last week.
After the first couple happened in the short time frame, I knew I had to keep a list.
You're Welcome.
These are in no particular order.
1. My boss wants to make a copy of some drawings, there are 6 pages. Instead of placing them in the feeder, he does each one individually on the glass. I could have made him 4 sets of copies by the time he made one.
2. I was running late to school today, I left the house about 10 minutes later than usual. So when I arrived at my destination I should have been 10 minutes later than usual. Instead I walk into the classroom at 7:46. I don't get there that early when I leave on time.
3. A co-worker whines that he has no money. His rent, utilities, cell phone and salary are all paid by the company we both work for. He pays for his truck, groceries, internet and cable. If that's all I paid for I'd have lots of money.
4. My husband has been unemployed for almost a month. He doesn't have any real hobbies (at least ones that he can do in the house, like hunting). So other than job searching and a few additional chores around the house he hasn't done much. I'm surprised he isn't crazy. Him being at home with no paycheck is making me crazy.
5. I'm cooking dinner for my mom for her birthday on Saturday. Although her birthday is officially tomorrow, I'm doing everything Saturday, because between work and school we wouldn't be eating until Midnight if I did it tomorrow. So I called her yesterday and wanted her to tell me what she wanted fixed for dinner. After an unbelievable amount of time she finally hem-hawed around to picking something out. It's just food. That you don't have to cook. Don't annoy the daughter person.
6. Telemarketers. We get a ton of these people calling at work to "save us money". They don't realize that half of the time I don't listen to their spiel because I'm busy doing homework. Yet, when we politely tell them 'no, thank you', they can't just walk away. They continue to push and haggle with us that their service is better or longer lasting. Yet to get that price we have to buy 4+ cartridges of toner. Um, I've worked here almost 4 years. We have replaced the toner twice. The last replacement was about 2 months ago. I'm pretty sure that 4 cartridges won't last 10 years, which is approximately how long it would take us to use them. Heck, it would probably be at least 18 months before we even needed the next one.
7. I love professors who give you reviews and tons of information about what is going to be on upcoming tests. Then you don't walk it and get your exam and wonder if you are in the right place. Because that feeling and failing grade sucks. However, we are college students. As an older 32 year old, I hate that we are babied. The real world doesn't work that way. Your boss isn't going to care if you stayed up until 2 am partying and the guy next to you has spent the last week working on the project. I want the grade I earned, not the flashbacks to high school. It's about time someone treated college students about how the real world works. Let them, and us earn the grade we earn.
8. Whoever made up world problems should be shot, buried, then dug up and shot again, just for good measure. I do great with numbers. But company A does such and such with 2000 and they had this much here and that much there and here's some information that you don't know what it has to do with anything but they are going to randomly throw it in there just to make you crazy. Bastard. I understand numbers. Not words with numbers. It's either one or the other people, not both.
9. What's up with the not sleeping through the night? I would imagine that stress has something to do with it. But it's making me tired and grumpy. And when I'm tired and grumpy the high point of my day typically involves killing someone or something. So Mr. Sandman, would you please pay me a visit, every night. Please. Because this waking up to look at the clock several times in the middle of the night is really pissing me off.
And last, but certainly not least:
10. Sometimes I'm reminded about how much people can change. How life experiences and life in general can change our lives. I'm sad because it means that I've lost my friend that I knew, yet at the same time, I wonder if perhaps neither one of us were ever the people we thought we were in high school. 14 years is a long time. A lot can happen. A lot has, a lot still will.
After the first couple happened in the short time frame, I knew I had to keep a list.
You're Welcome.
These are in no particular order.
1. My boss wants to make a copy of some drawings, there are 6 pages. Instead of placing them in the feeder, he does each one individually on the glass. I could have made him 4 sets of copies by the time he made one.
2. I was running late to school today, I left the house about 10 minutes later than usual. So when I arrived at my destination I should have been 10 minutes later than usual. Instead I walk into the classroom at 7:46. I don't get there that early when I leave on time.
3. A co-worker whines that he has no money. His rent, utilities, cell phone and salary are all paid by the company we both work for. He pays for his truck, groceries, internet and cable. If that's all I paid for I'd have lots of money.
4. My husband has been unemployed for almost a month. He doesn't have any real hobbies (at least ones that he can do in the house, like hunting). So other than job searching and a few additional chores around the house he hasn't done much. I'm surprised he isn't crazy. Him being at home with no paycheck is making me crazy.
5. I'm cooking dinner for my mom for her birthday on Saturday. Although her birthday is officially tomorrow, I'm doing everything Saturday, because between work and school we wouldn't be eating until Midnight if I did it tomorrow. So I called her yesterday and wanted her to tell me what she wanted fixed for dinner. After an unbelievable amount of time she finally hem-hawed around to picking something out. It's just food. That you don't have to cook. Don't annoy the daughter person.
6. Telemarketers. We get a ton of these people calling at work to "save us money". They don't realize that half of the time I don't listen to their spiel because I'm busy doing homework. Yet, when we politely tell them 'no, thank you', they can't just walk away. They continue to push and haggle with us that their service is better or longer lasting. Yet to get that price we have to buy 4+ cartridges of toner. Um, I've worked here almost 4 years. We have replaced the toner twice. The last replacement was about 2 months ago. I'm pretty sure that 4 cartridges won't last 10 years, which is approximately how long it would take us to use them. Heck, it would probably be at least 18 months before we even needed the next one.
7. I love professors who give you reviews and tons of information about what is going to be on upcoming tests. Then you don't walk it and get your exam and wonder if you are in the right place. Because that feeling and failing grade sucks. However, we are college students. As an older 32 year old, I hate that we are babied. The real world doesn't work that way. Your boss isn't going to care if you stayed up until 2 am partying and the guy next to you has spent the last week working on the project. I want the grade I earned, not the flashbacks to high school. It's about time someone treated college students about how the real world works. Let them, and us earn the grade we earn.
8. Whoever made up world problems should be shot, buried, then dug up and shot again, just for good measure. I do great with numbers. But company A does such and such with 2000 and they had this much here and that much there and here's some information that you don't know what it has to do with anything but they are going to randomly throw it in there just to make you crazy. Bastard. I understand numbers. Not words with numbers. It's either one or the other people, not both.
9. What's up with the not sleeping through the night? I would imagine that stress has something to do with it. But it's making me tired and grumpy. And when I'm tired and grumpy the high point of my day typically involves killing someone or something. So Mr. Sandman, would you please pay me a visit, every night. Please. Because this waking up to look at the clock several times in the middle of the night is really pissing me off.
And last, but certainly not least:
10. Sometimes I'm reminded about how much people can change. How life experiences and life in general can change our lives. I'm sad because it means that I've lost my friend that I knew, yet at the same time, I wonder if perhaps neither one of us were ever the people we thought we were in high school. 14 years is a long time. A lot can happen. A lot has, a lot still will.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
A Lesson In Patience
It's hard to believe that my husband will have been unemployed one month to the day on Saturday. It's hard to believe that for all of the jobs that he has applied for nothing, has made it official yet, that is until today.
And now he has two job offers. Two. Which sounds all kinds of awesome, except for the wife who worries. And if you want to meet her, well, she is the one who's going to write this post today.
She's the one who worries that everything won't work out and that the rent will be due and that will mean money pulled out of the savings account that she doesn't want to touch, for fear that we will need that money later. Even though technically we need it now. So she's the freak who is writing this post today.
Amazingly soI, er she, hasn't been as freaked out about this unemployment period as she should have been, as she typically would have been. She has tried to remain calm and not panic. Yet as the days continue to pass, and with two offers on the table (one of which has no been turned down), she feels the need to panic. Because what if...
-something goes wrong and they change their mind
-he doesn't pass the physical
-he doesn't really like the job
-I don't really like his job
And the list goes on and on. She's trying to be patient. She's trying to trust God for a change instead of pushing her husband into taking the safe route. She's trying.
This job, well, it's kinda the job that dreams are made of. It's making more money than the job he lost. It's for a good, solid company, with some excellant benefits. It offers the possibility of promotions and a career instead of just a job, and let's face it, I'm (so is she) a find a career job, not just a paycheck. Because every job that I've had, I've loved. Could be why I've had so few jobs in my life, I've been lucky, very lucky. They like him enough, that they are already thinking of promotions for him, based on his experience and him.
I...er she talked, via text message to a good friend last week, and her response was "God is good!"
Yes, yes he is. The job is amazing. He has orientation on Monday at 10am. So the job is basically his. Just one more hurdle to overcome. One that I'm hoping will open his eyes to some other areas of his life that need some attention and some work as well.
Heck, it's some areas thatmy her life chould use as well.
It's funny, I've felt God's presence in my life more in the last month than I think I have my entire life. Sure, I've felt his precense in the weeks after my grandfather died, and the weeks that Papa laid in the hospital, waiting. But instead of comfort, it was peace and a lack of worry that I was given. I'm pretty sure that last Friday I heard laughter and the voice that had an "I told you so" quality about it telling me "See what happens when you let go of things and let me take care of it."
Point taken.
Then for half a moment I wondered just how different my life would be, if I could give my infertility away like that. I've wondered a dozen or more times if that little girl that I've dreamed about might be a reality by now, if I had just been patient, and had more faith in God's timing instead of my desire for right this minute.
I've also learned that it's ok that I haven't given up on her. That voice reassured me that "I'm not supposed too" give up on her just yet.
*Note to the family reading this - no, I'm not pregnant. No, I'm not going to be attempting to get pregnant. But I know that I'm not holding on to that little girl so tightly that I'm missing out on the child I could have if I would fill out the adoption paperwork. I believe with all my heart that isn't what we are supposed to do. So I'm not giving up, I'm just going to keep going. Like I've done every single day for that last 6 years. I'm going to hope, that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
And now he has two job offers. Two. Which sounds all kinds of awesome, except for the wife who worries. And if you want to meet her, well, she is the one who's going to write this post today.
She's the one who worries that everything won't work out and that the rent will be due and that will mean money pulled out of the savings account that she doesn't want to touch, for fear that we will need that money later. Even though technically we need it now. So she's the freak who is writing this post today.
Amazingly so
-something goes wrong and they change their mind
-he doesn't pass the physical
-he doesn't really like the job
-I don't really like his job
And the list goes on and on. She's trying to be patient. She's trying to trust God for a change instead of pushing her husband into taking the safe route. She's trying.
This job, well, it's kinda the job that dreams are made of. It's making more money than the job he lost. It's for a good, solid company, with some excellant benefits. It offers the possibility of promotions and a career instead of just a job, and let's face it, I'm (so is she) a find a career job, not just a paycheck. Because every job that I've had, I've loved. Could be why I've had so few jobs in my life, I've been lucky, very lucky. They like him enough, that they are already thinking of promotions for him, based on his experience and him.
I...er she talked, via text message to a good friend last week, and her response was "God is good!"
Yes, yes he is. The job is amazing. He has orientation on Monday at 10am. So the job is basically his. Just one more hurdle to overcome. One that I'm hoping will open his eyes to some other areas of his life that need some attention and some work as well.
Heck, it's some areas that
It's funny, I've felt God's presence in my life more in the last month than I think I have my entire life. Sure, I've felt his precense in the weeks after my grandfather died, and the weeks that Papa laid in the hospital, waiting. But instead of comfort, it was peace and a lack of worry that I was given. I'm pretty sure that last Friday I heard laughter and the voice that had an "I told you so" quality about it telling me "See what happens when you let go of things and let me take care of it."
Point taken.
Then for half a moment I wondered just how different my life would be, if I could give my infertility away like that. I've wondered a dozen or more times if that little girl that I've dreamed about might be a reality by now, if I had just been patient, and had more faith in God's timing instead of my desire for right this minute.
I've also learned that it's ok that I haven't given up on her. That voice reassured me that "I'm not supposed too" give up on her just yet.
*Note to the family reading this - no, I'm not pregnant. No, I'm not going to be attempting to get pregnant. But I know that I'm not holding on to that little girl so tightly that I'm missing out on the child I could have if I would fill out the adoption paperwork. I believe with all my heart that isn't what we are supposed to do. So I'm not giving up, I'm just going to keep going. Like I've done every single day for that last 6 years. I'm going to hope, that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Happy Valentine's Day
This post is going to be short and sweet, and too the point. I have way to much homework to deal with for a real love fest. I'm not, feeling the love from my professors, the jerks.
This year I'm reminded of the post I wrote about Valentine's Day last year 2010.
See, this year, my husband has now been unemployed for 3 weeks. I'm thankful that in previous years we have been able to do a little something for each other on Valentine's Day, even if it was just Hallmark and candy. This year, however, thanks to my part time only gig, and still having utilities and truck payments and the need for groceries, we agreed that we would do nothing that cost money. Because the bank doesn't appreciate my offer to pay them in candy in order to keep my truck.
The funny thing is, I'm ok with that. This year, already beat last year's Valentines Day all up. See, I was sitting in a cold classroom, waiting to begin a Marketing exam (that I wasn't feeling very confident about), when I noticed a text message from my husband, asking me to be his valentine. I melted. Literally. His sweet message this morning was enough to calm the butterflies that seemed to be doing the cha-cha in my stomach. I managed to relax enough that I actually felt better about that exam than I did when I walked in.
Then I got to work, with an almost repeat of something equally sweet on facebook. Granted, I'm not posting pictures of flowers and other floral displays on like most of my friends on facebook are. And that's ok.
Because my Valentine's Day will top theirs and grind it into a little greasy spot on the pavement.
I'll have a home cooked meal, that he has put effort into. Something yummy for dessert, that was all his doing. I'll have the dishes washed and put away and the kitchen cleaned up for the night, so that I can study for a test that I have tomorrow. I'll have dessert later that will be a surprise, because I'll be so wrapped up in doing homework and studying that I loose track of time.
Then tonight, when we go to bed and I apologize (like I do most nights) that he has taken on so much while I go to school, he will tell me that he loves me, and that he doesn't mind. That he knows I will do well on the test tomorrow and that he loves me and how very proud of me that he is.
I would love to share that with facebook, but it's not as flashy, it's not at all something to show off to the world that he loves me. At least not in something that can be physically seen or touched.
Instead it's all mine, I don't have to share it on facebook or let the guys I work with harass me about it. I get to share it with the one person who truly matters to me.
His love is simply there, in everything he does, whether he means for it to be or not. It’s there. The flowers, the cards, the candy they don't mean anything. Sure the sentiment is nice, but right now, I'm content to have less. To be doing less this year for each other, to be reminded that there are things more important than flowers and extravagance. Then I think about John's cousin, who is spending this day without his wife, and I realize that in having less, I really do have more.
Happy Valentine's Day.
This year I'm reminded of the post I wrote about Valentine's Day
See, this year, my husband has now been unemployed for 3 weeks. I'm thankful that in previous years we have been able to do a little something for each other on Valentine's Day, even if it was just Hallmark and candy. This year, however, thanks to my part time only gig, and still having utilities and truck payments and the need for groceries, we agreed that we would do nothing that cost money. Because the bank doesn't appreciate my offer to pay them in candy in order to keep my truck.
The funny thing is, I'm ok with that. This year, already beat last year's Valentines Day all up. See, I was sitting in a cold classroom, waiting to begin a Marketing exam (that I wasn't feeling very confident about), when I noticed a text message from my husband, asking me to be his valentine. I melted. Literally. His sweet message this morning was enough to calm the butterflies that seemed to be doing the cha-cha in my stomach. I managed to relax enough that I actually felt better about that exam than I did when I walked in.
Then I got to work, with an almost repeat of something equally sweet on facebook. Granted, I'm not posting pictures of flowers and other floral displays on like most of my friends on facebook are. And that's ok.
Because my Valentine's Day will top theirs and grind it into a little greasy spot on the pavement.
I'll have a home cooked meal, that he has put effort into. Something yummy for dessert, that was all his doing. I'll have the dishes washed and put away and the kitchen cleaned up for the night, so that I can study for a test that I have tomorrow. I'll have dessert later that will be a surprise, because I'll be so wrapped up in doing homework and studying that I loose track of time.
Then tonight, when we go to bed and I apologize (like I do most nights) that he has taken on so much while I go to school, he will tell me that he loves me, and that he doesn't mind. That he knows I will do well on the test tomorrow and that he loves me and how very proud of me that he is.
I would love to share that with facebook, but it's not as flashy, it's not at all something to show off to the world that he loves me. At least not in something that can be physically seen or touched.
Instead it's all mine, I don't have to share it on facebook or let the guys I work with harass me about it. I get to share it with the one person who truly matters to me.
His love is simply there, in everything he does, whether he means for it to be or not. It’s there. The flowers, the cards, the candy they don't mean anything. Sure the sentiment is nice, but right now, I'm content to have less. To be doing less this year for each other, to be reminded that there are things more important than flowers and extravagance. Then I think about John's cousin, who is spending this day without his wife, and I realize that in having less, I really do have more.
Happy Valentine's Day.
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