Monday, November 17, 2008
For today, I've had enough.
Trying to plan a family trip to South Carolina to visit the in-laws. My father-in-law has cancer that is not responding favorably to treatment. It's in his bladder. They want to operate to remove the bladder, but can't. All the meds he's been taking have messed up his heart rhythm, and until that straightens out, he remains on the treatment that is offering no cure. They are down, depressed, and need some cheering. My brother-in-law thinks a visit from us would go a long way toward cheering them up and is working the OT to put us on a plane.
I'm awed by his thoughtfulness and generosity. Simply awed.
God knows we are stone cold broke and can't afford to fly out on our own. Someday, we'll be able to return the generosity...someday.
And I just found out today that my brother hasn't been seen or heard from since last Thursday. My paranoid schizophrenic brother. His history with this is long and I won't get into it here. However, the last time he went off meds, the paranoia and delusions set in like flies. He ended up nearly homicidal and certainly suicidal. He's had run-ins with two family members in the last month that weren't pretty. Now no one knows where he is, if he's ok, or what his state of mind is.
Right now, I just want to crawl in bed and sleep for a couple days.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Things I'd rather be doing:
- Deep cleaning my house with a thimble bucket and toothbrush
- Catching up on the office filing
- Balancing my checkbook
- Giving both my cats baths
- Snorkeling in a shark tank
- Algebra homework with my 15-yr old who hates math
Those are all things I loathe, don't see the point in, scare the shit out of me, or that I will put off until the last possible minute. All sound much more inviting and fun than the homework I have in front of me.
Anyone got some tasty cheese to accompany my whine?
Sunday, July 20, 2008
All my test results are back. Blood sugar - fine. Thyroid - fine. Liver - fine. Kidneys - fine. Blood count - fine. Cholesterol - fine. So the diagnosis right now is "the patient has a history of anxiety and depression, coupled with a large amount of immediate stressors."
I'm now on a little happy pill for anxiety, and it seems to be making a difference. There are still things I worry about, but they don't take on world-ending proportions like they did a few weeks ago.
I'm also making a point to sleep when tired, and that hasn't been a problem with my schedule lately. Simply put, most days I'm exhausted. She gave me something to help me sleep, but I've only had to use it once.
Now if Mike and I could just get on track, life would be just about perfect.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
It's almost noon and I'm still in my jammies. And I'm seriously thinking of heading to the couch for a movie. My luck, someone will drop in unexpectly. I just don't feel like being productive.
Yesterday, we started ripping apart our back yard. Mike brought home a mini-excavator from work.
Truly, our yard looks like shit. Well, not where we're making improvements, but everywhere else. The grass has never grown nicely since the day we moved in. We have no idea what the previous tenants did to it, other than completely neglect it. We've watered. We've fertilized. And still the weeds are all that really grow. The only reason I keep putting water on it is to try to save the trees. All of which somehow managed to survive the neglect from past years. Well, except the willow-type specimen that we had to take out last summer.
And with costs for everything going up, up, UP, eliminating some of the grass in favor of lower maintenance plants should benefit us in the long run. Getting there, however, will take a couple summers.
Somehow during all the work, I managed to get a nice sunburn. Nice, except that it looks like a patchwork quilt on my legs. Don't know how I managed that. White here, red there. It's attractive, I'm sure. And jeans are out for today.
And after a long and sweaty day of work, I was awake with the birds this morning. Just like clockwork, my eyes popped open at 7:00 am. I have fond memories of the days I could sleep in without even trying.
Hmmm, the rest of the crowd isn't moving too fast either. Maybe I'll trade my jammies for shorts and a tee and join them in front of the TV. I think I hear the couch calling my name.
Friday, July 4, 2008
So, in fine family tradition, I received one of Mike's "for you...but secretly for me" gifts last Monday. He splurged and picked up a window AC unit for upstairs. Not that we don't enjoy bathing in the 90+ sauna that is our upstairs getaway. But really, sweat is not sexy on every level. It's actually been bearable up there, though that poor little machine chugs non-stop in an attempt to keep the heat at bay. At least it cools enough at night to shut it off and open windows. There is a decided sigh of coolant relief when I hit that off button.
Obviously, today is the holiday. The calendar says it is so. That means our little town has it's annual 4th of July parade as part of our Sagebrush Days celebration. I don't mind a good parade. I especially enjoy raiding the bag of candy the kid collects from passing floats. I just have one major parade-related gripe. How the hell can you call it a parade without including a marching band?? It's required! Read your official book of parade protocol. It's in there. I promise you. Without the marching band, it's almost not worth going.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
It's reached the point that I stress over everything - big and small. Do I enjoy worrying about everything? HELL NO! Here's what chronic worry and anxiety get me:
- digestive issues
- upset stomach
- symptoms of an ulcer
- skin problems
- profuse sweating
- blood sugar issues
- chronic fatigue
- panic attacks
- complete lack of sexual desire
- heightened PMS symptoms
- relationship issues
Wow. Not a pretty list when put down in black and white.
It's hard to get others to understand. For those who deal with stress differently, it's hard to explain why I just can't "Put it aside and stop worrying". It makes me angry to hear someone say, "Well, I don't know why you would worry about that. It's not important."
Stress is having the worst impact on my relationship with Mike. He's a worrier - and had the bleeding ulcer to attest to his habit. But even he doesn't get it. He worries the big things. The little things don't really impact him. I, on the other hand, deal fairly well with the big things. It's the little things that pile up, grow exponentially, and cause the worst damage.
If the laundry is piled as high as Everest, I stress about getting it all done. If the boys don't get their chores done, I blow up. If they leave a mess behind, I rant and rave. If the phone rings too much at work, I want to throw it out the window.
Now that I'm digging around my own head, I guess I see the big things impact me too. Mike has been working in Oregon for most of the last 4 months. It's hard being here alone, or as the only parent/adult. The day-to-day grind is overwhelming at times. Especially with kids at the age known for constantly testing the limits. Throw in working full-time, going to school full-time, health issues/concerns and I'm a mess. If I only had a couple more hours in every day. But then I'd just have more time to fret and stew.
Back in October, Mike was involved in a fender bender. The accident itself wasn't that bad. In the setting sun, he missed a stop sign and hit another car, right where the door and front fender meet. Had some front-end damage to his pickup and insurance deemed the other car totaled since it was old...really old. Well, old enough to not really be worth anything. The other guy refused medical treatment on-scene, and signed for the paramedics to leave. Now, he's retained a lawyer and claims he has more than $25,000 in medical bills. Huh? The letter from our insurance carrier on that little gem made my stomach twist into knots unknown to the most proficient boy scout.
The lack of sex is the elephant in the corner. It's there, but we're damned unable to talk about it reasonably without arguing, or causing hurt, anger, and disappointment. It's killing both of us. Slowly.
If sex, or the lack thereof, is the elephant in the corner, my schooling is the hippo? Cow? Some other big, yet fairly quiet animal. It takes a lot of my time and energy. It cuts into family time. It's the cause of some significant passive-aggressive tendencies and comments in our personal relationship. It's hailed as a good thing, a positive direction to take for our financial future, but there's a lot of underlying hostility surrounding the time I devote to that rather than personal relationships.
Money is tight and expenses are rising. Same sad story for a great portion of the population right now. We need to do a couple major projects before winter and finding a way to pay for them is worrying. Apparently we aren't the only ones trying to find alternative heating arrangements, because a good used wood stove is impossible to find. We're resigned now to the probability of having to buy a new one.
All Mike's medical bills from December (the bleeding ulcer incident) are now finalized and we've made arrangements on them. To the tune of nearly $400 a month. Those checks hurt, in a major way.
Devan has his driving permit. There are days my nerves just can't handle it. On top of that, he took a bad bounce off a friend's trampoline the other day and nearly broke his wrist. Actually, we still haven't received word if there's a break or not. We had it looked at yesterday and the PA didn't see anything obvious on the x-rays, but the radiologist still needs to review. We'll find out on Monday.
Mike's Dad is dealing with some significant health issues right now. And we're 3000 miles away. Mike talks to his folks daily, getting just enough information to spark worry, without getting any real answers. I know his Mom's motivations are good; she doesn't want him to worry because of his ulcer. But all the unanswered questions and partial snippets of information are often harder to deal with than knowing the full story.
My Grandmother is now deep in the clutches of Alzheimer's. In her mind, she's living, once again, on the old homestead of her youth. She's getting worse. On a daily basis.
My other Grandmother is showing significant signs of dementia. Not the same as Alzheimer's, but equally as hard to deal with. They are having a family meeting next weekend to discuss putting her into a facility.
A dear friend is going through a very tough family issue (and issue is far from the right term to describe this) right now, and there's nothing I can do for her or her family, other than be available over the miles to listen. I know she needs support and friendship right now, and I'm 2500 miles away.
My Mom and her SO were here for a visit earlier in the month. They brought the 5th-wheel, despite the high gas prices, so everyone could have space. We have a guest room of sorts, but that many people in the house 24/7 is a little close at times. My brother and SIL did take care of the grocery shopping for me (all meals are prepared and served at my house since I have a kitchen big enough to manage the crowd), which was really a blessing. However, my SIL did precious little to help with meals and clean-up. I'm talking show up maybe 30 minutes before meal time, kids in tow, maybe stir a pot if asked, eat the meal, then retire to the other room or outside. It's like she was oblivious to the time and energy it takes to cook a full sit-down meal for 10 and then clean up afterwards. Thankfully, my Mom is awesome about jumping in on prep work, and clean-up, too. And the boys jumped right in on dishes with nary an argument. They knew I was stressed. And here it is 3 weeks after the fact, and I'm still bugged by it.
OK, so maybe the big things are a little bigger than I realized. I try not to chew on them continuously, but they are always in the back of my mind. Always. So the little stuff that comes up daily rides on top of all that. And some days, it just feels like the boat is ready to sink. Some days the weight is just so much.
I don't remember what it is to be stress-free. To not be tense. And not just mentally tense, but physically. My entire body is always poised and ready to react.
This entry is way longer than I figured it would be. Maybe I should write more often and get things out in small doses rather than producing a novella.
I just want to be able to relax.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
So it's a boring day at work, and I'm doing more news reading than anything else. Not that I don't have work to do, it's just not fun work. Is there every fun work at work?
So I found a few items of interest today. In the news.
Who came up with this idea? Every level of government is finding more and more ways to screw over Joe Citizen. Am I going to find an envelope in my mailbox next week charging me a mail delivery fee? Will the city tack on a fuel surcharge for reading my meter?
Damn, the boss always shows up at the worst times...later.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
So to pass the time, I'm reading news online. Just a few things caught my eye today, for a variety of reasons.
Like this. Ok, just say the word shark and it scares the shit out of me. What can I say, I was at a very impressionable age when I first saw Jaws. I still refuse to go into deep water. Fresh or salt, doesn't matter. If I have to, I better have a life vest handy, and don't ask me to dangle my feet. Anyway, the question that pops in my head is this: What sort of good is this doing? Thousands of sharks live around there. It is their home. People are the invaders. They live there and people just happen to look like food sometimes. It's a risk we take by going into the ocean. So is this some kind of message sent to the sharks of the area? "Beware! Snack on a surfer/swimmer and you'll be next!"
Or this. Come on folks...it's a damn scarf. It's a fashion accessory. If I utter the words "Uff Da", am I suddenly a Norwegian terrorist hell-bent on attacking the world with lutefisk? (Yes, I come from solid Norwegian stock.) Holy shit we have gotten carried away with all this political correctness shit.
Here's another peach of a story. These are the kind of people allowed to teach our children. Ok, so they removed her from the classroom and "reassigned" her elsewhere. Not good enough. Things like this within a school district should translate into a one strike and you're out ball game. That's my "alleged" opinion, since the "allegations" are unproven as of yet. Bullshit. Get her the hell out and send her for remedial classes.
And speaking of kids, this is just sick. Sick and wrong on too many levels. They say a picture says a thousand words. Yep. That does not look like a chaste kiss to me. Sick SOB.
I really need to find some work to do and stop reading about all the crap in the world. Can't anyone report any good news??
Sunday, May 18, 2008
The 5th grade had their annual play this past Thursday and Friday. Wonderful performance! It's amazing that the teachers can get that many kids on the same page at the same time. And for a musical even! Dean didn't have a stage part, opting instead to be part of the stage crew. Those four boys did an outstanding job with the sets and moving things around quickly. His friend from across the street had a solo song to sing and did a great job with that. Go K! And so our elementary years are nearly at a close. Sigh.
The weather has finally straightened out. And in typical Idaho fashion, it's gone from the 50s to the 90s overnight. Damn. I got some of the storm windows off and screens in place yesterday and it's refreshing to get new air in the house. I will be pushing Devan up the ladder to remove remnants of plastic from the second story windows today.
Speaking of Devan, the driving continues. With his permit tucked safely in his wallet (which hasn't come close to the washer since May 7) he's more than willing to drive me all over. He's doing a good job, despite a few bad habits he thinks he needs. We're working on those...patiently.
Devan is also working. Every chance he gets. He's working for my Dad and uncle every weekend, moving pipe, helping in the shop, running the shovel for my Dad on service calls. He's also working for a local farmer moving and setting pipe, and whatever else they find for him. I'm honestly impressed with his treatment of paychecks, too. If it's cash, he takes a little stipend and sends the rest to the bank with me. A paper check goes directly to the bank. He's got nearly $1000 on deposit...I'm honestly a bit jealous.
Mike continues to work in OR. They came home last weekend for Mother's Day. He took me to dinner at one of our local steak houses. Not a national chain-type place full of noise and distraction. This is a very quiet, intimate eatery. Perfect for escaping life and kids for an hour. I had the best steak and shrimp I've had in ages!
He's home again this weekend, too. They had a rough week and accomplished little, so the boss shipped everyone home to get their heads back on straight. It's nice having him home, even if he chooses not to believe that.
Which brings me to a rant, of sorts. Why do men love independant women so fiercely, right up until we prove that we can indeed carry on our daily experience despite their absence? I'm not sure how my ability to take care of whatever comes up translates into not wanting/needing him around. He's gone. Things still need to be handled. I'm here. I must find a way to handle them. Period. I'm a smart girl with a good head on solid shoulders. I'm also not the type to fall apart and wring my delicate little hands at the slightest hint of a problem. I tend to take care of business and fall apart later.
Yes, the stress of being the only parent/adult does get burdensome at times. Yes, I miss him with every breath. But I can't fall apart, hide in a corner, or run screaming for the hills. I deal. And I deal the best I can, sometimes in very trying circumstances. The days get long, the nights tend to be short, and sometimes the stress builds. That's why I love it when he comes home, even if I seem grumpy.
Enough of that...for now.
Before I head off for the day's chores, just a few observances:
I discovered, in watching other play-goers on Friday night, I'm not necessarily the social misfit I often think I am. I'm a t-shirt and jeans kind of Mom. I don't wear the latest styles, the smartest shoes; I don't visit my stylist every four weeks for a trim and highlights; I don't have beautiful nails or a french pedicure. But I also don't have hair that is brown, red, and orange. Virulent orange. I don't look sloppy. I don't have a full calf-length tat of gouls and screaming demons. And I certainly don't put my body in a tight mini-skirt with a spaghetti tank that gives me uni-boob and head out in public. I look okay after all.
Despite the obvious lack of snow, people still can't find the lines in the parking lot at the grocery store and park in an orderly fashion. People, they are yellow lines. Aim for the area between them! If you have an over-sized vehicle, park at the end of the lot in two spots, DON'T park right up front and leave your ass hanging out in the driving lane three feet.
Do not tell a grumpy woman to "just start bleeding". Those are fightin' words.
Do not tell a woman who lives life surrounded by men of all ages that she is a man-hater. Just as you profess to not understanding the ways of estrogen at times, we are also struck, at times, with the inability to understand how a penis gets in the way of logical thought. We deal with you the best we can, just as you deal with us. Sometimes we can't understand, but we still have to coexist.
And finally, ladies, please, I'm begging you, just look in the mirror once in awhile before leaving the house. If you have 10 pounds of muffin top oozing out the top of your painted on jeans, it's not a good look. Mom jeans up to the eyebrows aren't any better. Just shoot for something that splits the difference.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Wake up and smell the burnt coffee woman! I'm not home for my own leisure. I'm home because the youngest kid woke up pale as a sheet, dizzy and clammy, running for the bathroom. So much for the rest. The relaxation. The doing whatever the hell I want to do. No, I'll have plenty to do today. Not that it doesn't need done, of course. I just don't like being pushed into it.
So what am I going to do for a good portion of the day? Clean every blessed thing he might have touched in the last 24 hours.
I made the required run to the grocery store after getting him settled in. Because...well, what mom is stocked up on 7-up, jello, and fruit gushers when someone cops the stomach flu? But, I also managed to load up on some cleaning stuff.
Seriously, I needed to do a good scrub down throughout the house. And since I clean on the "want to" system, it doesn't get done as frequently as it should. Now that we've moved to the "have to" system, I discovered why I didn't "want to". I had very little in the way of cleaning supplies! What kind of wife and mother have I become? I have a 6-pack of Comet...which doesn't work at all well on hardwood floors. Pledge wipes (damn lazy is what I am) that don't work at all well on doorknobs and faucet handles. And some sort of fancy spray degreaser that hubby bought. He buys these things, but doesn't use them.
So now I have a brand new bottle of Pinesol, 2 containers of Clorox wipes, and some multi-purpose wipes. And I'm not afraid to use them. Just as soon as I finish my coffee, I really "have to" start cleaning.
Monday, April 14, 2008
DH and the boys were outside working tonight, trying to stay out of my hair so I could finish my final exam. I went to visit after I finished and soon found out they'd been having a few laughs at my expense. I told DH the top of his work bench would last longer if he sanded everything down and treated it with something.
This started the stories of how they KNEW mom would walk in and start with comments like "If you would've cut this here, you could do this." Or, "If you change the way this is laid out, you'd have room for that." So they haul me to the other shed to show me the old work bench (non-treated) and that it was just fine because of all the 'oil products' spilled over the years. Ok, they had a point...but anyway. This is what started the initial laughing.
So the kid starts relating a story from school and can't get through it for the laughing. It seems he came up with a brilliant idea; and yes, it really was pretty good. He supplied the change and a friend the super glue. Do you see where it's going yet?
They superglued quarters to the hallway floor and waited around to see what happened. As it turned out, EVERY teacher that passed, and quite a few students, as well, tried their damnedest to get those quarters off the floor. It was so bad that a handful of teachers, after failing on the first, moved on to the second, and failing there, went to the third.
By the time he made it through the story I nearly had tears running down my face. I had to tell him that while it was enormously funny, he needed to watch out or he'd get busted for defacing the school.
But damn, I laughed my ass off. He was doing imitations of various people trying to pick them up. His impression of the football coach was too much. The lumbering, the struggling to bend all the way to the floor, the grunting while holding the position. It gets me giggling all over again just typing it.
I guess you have to be the mother of a 15-year old for it to be funny. Then again, watching DH laugh over it was nearly as entertaining as the story itself.
I hope this kid keeps himself out of trouble with all the stuff that rolls around in his head.
Makes a smart assed mother proud!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
It's finals week and the homework is kicking my ass. My physical response is a perpetual headache and exhaustion. Really, it's getting old. But at this point, I'm actually on target to finish with time to spare. I have about 12 problems left on the final and I'm hoping they don't hurt too bad. The assigned problems were awful until I found some help online. It's pretty sad when the online information is far more beneficial than the textbook. The text just sucks.
DH and I have had some spats this week...a far too normal thing anymore. I'm just so sick of it. My physical response is more head pain and some stomach/gut discomfort thrown in for good measure. I also get jittery, like there's a low grade electric current running through my whole body.
Work was busy and boring, by turns. Monday and Tuesday were so busy that 8 hours a day weren't enough to get it all done. By Thursday I was watching youtube videos to pass the time and keeping track of songs played by the local radio station for my son. Friday I asked the boss if I could cut out early to work on finals.
Also found out that doing my taxes for 2008 is not going to be a joyous experience. DH has been working in OR lately. Well, we got his paystub for March in the mail on Friday and I was shocked and just a little pissed to see OR state income tax withheld...a lot of it. I call the office, and she was really no help. I call the CPA we share a building with and talk to my counter-part in the office...she doesn't know and will have to ask him. He's so busy with last minute returns I doubt I'm anywhere on his radar right now. So I hop online and start my research (a nice break from homework). Turns out, OR state law allows for withholding on anyone earning income associated with the state. We've never dealt with this before, even when he was working all over the country. I'm so not looking forward to filing 2 state returns next year.
But today is starting out great! Well, other than finding the dog mess in the basement...but that's not my job to clean up. I had peace and quiet to catch up on mail and net reading, and I drank coffee that was actually hot. And now I've just finished a breakfast of real food that I didn't have to cook! The youngest son got up and decided to make bacon and eggs. My hero!
And thanks to the headache I woke up with, the entire entry is painfully boring and normal. My sense of humor should be back sometime after Monday when I turn in my final. I hope.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Twice I have typed out a rather long entry. The first was really nasty, so I tried to tone it down. The second started out fine and crumbled from there. It's just not going to be productive to go through this day again, step by miserable step.
Suffice it to say, I am surrounded by penises. Which prevents the brain from working sometimes. Have an issue with a man? Blame it on the penis. It applies to all males 10 and up.
I've had enough, and I'm not done with this day yet. I should be doing homework. I have 6 very painful and rather long accounting problems to do, and I haven't read the two chapters I need to. I have roughly 5 ginormous loads of laundry to do (go do your homework, we'll take care of the wash) and the machines are idle. At this rate, I'll be going commando in more ways than one tomorrow. They melted my iced tea container. And someone left a puddle in front of the commode. I don't have toddlers in the house anymore!
So now I'm upstairs trying to concentrate on homework, and obviously not succeeding because I'm writing this instead. I have a pounding headache. And I really just want to sleep. But now I'm too wired up for that.
WTF was I thinking when I decided to go back to school? How did I think I could really hold it all together? Oh, that's right. I didn't want to be stuck in a dead end job forever. Now I'll get to move on to a great paying job and put half my income toward school debt for the next 10 years.
And there's not a drop of tequila in the house...
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
However cute, he was still two weeks late and in no hurry to come out on his own. To this day, very little gets his sense of time in a huff.
Today, I saw not a cute little cherub with a gap in his front teeth and chocolate on his chin. Rather, I saw a handsome young man, taller than both his father and I, full of adolescent muscles and fuzzy facial hair. I saw a young man with a teenage strut and shoulder chip. A young man confident in having the world by the tail and the bull by the horns. A young man way short on sleep and grumpy with it. A young man who will be asking for the truck keys in only a month.
Just yesterday, he was climbing in my lap for a cuddle and a kiss. Today, he comes from behind to rub my shoulders and tell me to slow down.
Just yesterday, he brought his ouchies for kisses that only mom could give. Today, he takes his injuries out on the kid across the line or opposing him in the circle and wears the dripping blood as a badge of honor. The cotton wad up the nose is always a nice touch too.
Just yesterday, he greeted me with a joyous "Mommy!" Today, my "Yo, D" to catch his attention on the fly gets a "Yo Mama" in response. (And inspires a dual-sided fit of giggles!)
I'm so thankful I can still laugh and giggle with my little boy; that he hasn't outgrown me completely; that he will still tell me he loves me while on the phone from a friend's house.
Happy Birthday, young man of mine. I'm proud of you in ways you will never understand until you are a parent yourself. I love you with all my heart and am continually awestruck with the person you are becoming.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
January 31, 2005
Long lazy muscle stretches
Every time you rise.
That excited meow,
Each and every time, home we'd arrive.
even though they weren't good for you.
Your cuddles so wonderful,
whether we were sick, or just blue.
On the corner of my desk
you sat during coffee and email.
Reaching out, paw to cheek,
just to be sure I wouldn't ignore you.
I miss you so much,
the boys, even worse.
I hope you're ok
and gone is the hurt.
We laid you to rest
beneath a favored tree.
Your name etched forever
in the trunk, for all to see.
Rest well, be happy,
lay about in the sun.
Take care of God's house,
keep those mice on the run.
My final farewell
as tears fall from my eyes.
I'll always remember you -
For when you left us,
even the sky cried.
From January 7, 2007
My Best Girl, Rest in Peace, Baby
Words won't come yet,
It's too soon, I suppose.
Nearly 15 years ago I brought you home,
Just a wee little ball of black fuzz.
You were cute beyond words.
Over the years,
We tried your patience so many times.
Kittens that grew to cats;
Puppies that grew to dogs;
Babies that grew to noisy and boisterous young boys.
And yet...you reigned supreme.
Even when you started growing old,
Even when illness started it's slow march,
You remained a force to be reckoned with.
deep down in my heart,
This was to be your last winter.
I could tell you were tired,
that age was wearing you down.
And yet, you kept holding on.
Today, in the quiet of early morning,
You called out to me one last time.
One last look,
One last meow.
As I held you and rocked in your chair,
You slipped quietly away.
I'll miss you Missy Kitty.
1. Are you mad at me?
1a. Are you a little crabby?
1b. Are you hungry? (Because, well, I get really bitchy if I'm too hungry. The whole low blood sugar thing.)
These are especially prone to piss me off when asked within 10 minutes of you gracing my presence.
See, the thing is, I'm fairly easy to read most of the time. If there's a chance I'm mad about something, people are going to know. I'm either yelling about it, getting ready to yell about it, giving you the stone face, pausing to count to ten, or I turn and walk away. My anger is a very apparent emotion; I guess I'm not grown up enough to hide it quite yet. Sad, but true. However sad, it usually means there is absolutely no need to question my feelings. You don't have to ask and get some bitchy answer, and I don't have to try to fake it. It's just easier on everyone all around.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Today isn't the best day to start a new blog. I have nothing witty, sensational, snarky, or poignant to say. I slept in, so I have a sleep hangover and, so far, the coffee isn't burning it off. I should have thought about that before getting the bright idea to get this thing organized.