Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Look Mom, I can get dressed all by myself!

You know how they say the third time is the charm? Well, evidently, it applies to dressing oneself. This week did not start well at all in the "dressing yourself" catagory.

Monday, in a haze after only 4 hours of sleep and in the dark of the laundry room, I managed to grab 2 bras and no undies.

Tuesday, I managed the right garments, but noticed on the way out the house that I could see my bra through my shirt. There wasn't time to totally change, so I grabbed a hoodie on the way out the door, only to discover the zipper pull was missing. I wore it anyway and fought to zip the damn thing up all the way to work. Then, if that wasn't bad enough, on my second trip into the bathroom after arriving at work, I discovered my undies were inside out. WTF? It's not like I got dressed in the dark.

So today, I took great pains when picking clothes and getting dressed. I made sure the lights were on and I checked everything twice. I'm so on the damn ball today, my socks even coordinate with my shirt.

Just don't ask how my mascara looks...

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Life's Milestones

So Tuesday of this past week was a milestone. I turned 40. Theoretically, half my life is over. 40. How did I get here? Does it really mean anything?

The week preceeding Black Tuesday (as I wrote on my calendar) was full of deep, dark thoughts. It was hard to wrap my head around 40. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel about it. Actually, now that I've tried it on for a few days, I'm still not so sure.

It's not like I was losing sleep over the whole thing, but it definitely snuck into my immediate thoughts on more than one occasion.

My building mate put together a little surprise party at the office. She's thoughtful that way. When I got back from my post office run, there was cake and ice cream, and a building full of people. Actually, it was nice. And it was a lot of fun. And it was just another day.

Until last night. Dean talked me into buying the new electronic version of Monopoly. It's his smile. When he turns up the wattage, I'm powerless. Anyway, the boys and I are in the middle of a heated battle to make our millions and Dean looks me right in the eye and says...

"Uh, have a lot of wrinkles around your eyes."

Sigh. Last night, I really felt 40. And today, I just might go shopping for a really good eye cream.

Thursday, February 12, 2009


Dammit, did you hear me?? I said UUUNCLE!

I have so had enough.

They say the good Lord doesn't give you any more than you can handle. Can I sit the next round out? I'm getting real tired of handling.

I'm not a whiner by nature. Really. And once I get past the initial stress, I do pretty well dealing with things as they come up. Though I do owe some - ok, many - thanks to Celexa.

I've already talked about my father-in-law who is battling cancer. Part is untreatable, part is treatable. He's doing really good, for now. I haven't heard what the outcome was of the 6 bladder treatments is. Come to think of it, I don't think they'll know until next month.

After we got back from visiting the in-laws in December, Mike found out the boss had laid off everyone during that week. After giving a multitude of promises that things were fine, they had plenty of work, yada, yada, yada. Just let me blow some smoke up your asses boys so I can feel good about myself.

So Mike, by the grace of God, does find another job. But it's out of town. Right now it's in Alabama. He works 3-4 weeks straight, then comes home for a week. He's home this week.

He came home to 2 vehicles that needed maintenance. While doing routine maintenance on his, it blew a brake line. Just after one of the boys had driven it. Scared him senseless. He finished the maintenance and fixed the brake line and moved it out of the garage last night so he could put mine in. Mine is also having braking issues.

Back up just a couple days. Devan's wrestling coach told him he needed to see a doctor about a mat burn on his ear. It didn't look quite right. Mike takes him in early Monday morning. The doctor doesn't want to open it up to get a sample for a culture because that will just be another exposure to infection. looks like a full-blown staph infection. As I read his notes on our copy of the paperwork, way down in the bottom amidst the other scribbles is one that stands out...MSRA??? You've got to be shitting me. That would be the one that keeps putting kids in the hospital, on IV antibiotic drips, parents holding vigil, and some of them die. That MRSA. He's on some high-powered antibiotics and is supposed to go back for reevaluation on Saturday or Sunday.

And today is the topper. Mike calls me at work. I hadn't even been there an hour. "Hon, I need you to call the insurance office. My pickup is burning in the driveway." WTF??? I was up and grabbing my shit, yelling down the hall for my building mate to call my boss, and out the door in about 10 seconds flat. I had to get through the roadblock down the street by screaming at the cop that the fire was at MY HOUSE DAMMIT! By the time I got home, the flames were out and it was a hissing, smoldering mess. There's foam all over the truck, all over the driveway, all over our 2 storage buildings. There's a gazillion volunteer firemen in my yard, and I arrived just in time to see Mike wing his keys into the air. The hat went next.

He has never had a truck this nice. Ever. It was a 2002 GMC HD 2500 Duramax Diesel. Fully loaded except for the automatic ass wiper. This thing had more bells and whistles than a carnival. We agonized over buying it. Dumped all our savings into the down payment. Scrimped to make payments during the winter. Cursed when it needed tires last year. Praised it for hauling everything and anything. It was our Max. It is now a hunk of charred metal, melted plastic, sizzled wires, on $1000 worth of brand new tires that still hold air. The firefighter we talked to said it looked like the block heater had a malfunction. A malfunction. Really? Generally, a malfunction doesn't put me in the mind of TOTAL FUCKING LOSS.

The insurance adjuster has been here. Even though it only burned from the windshield forward, it is a total loss. That diesel motor is worth a lot to replace. And the transmission. Don't forget the front transfer case. All the electronics and computer. Two fenders. One hood. And plastic. Who knew there was that much plastic on the front end?

Mike had to run down to the insurance office to sign some power-of-attorney paperwork. Since we are both on the title, his signature will be needed for all the final paperwork. He's leaving for Alabama on Sunday and won't be here to sign anything for who knows how long. This way, the adjuster can sign in his absence and I will provide the other necessary signature. Dealing with insurance is never good. Never.

I'm so ready for a boring few months. No major upheavals. No medical emergencies. No calls to emergency services. Just a boring life of TV, meatloaf, and playing couch potato.

Is that too much to ask?

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Amazing video

I just found this on another blog I read. There just aren't words...

Is that amazing, or what?

Have I mentioned my pets annoy me?

The other day, I posted about them. As it turns out, Sunday mornings isn't the only time they irritate me. The dog is just being an ass and the kitten eggs him on. He woke me up from a nap by putting his head as close to mine as he could without actually touching me, and barking. He's got a big bark. I nearly jumped out of my skin. The kitten came careening out of the kitchen, did a NASCAR lap around the living room, coming to a stop on the back of the couch above me. Of course the dog is obligated to give going over me. Then he spilled my soda. Which puddled under my brand new book. Then he drank some. Eau de dog breath with a hint of Mt. Dew. Like he doesn't have enough energy already.

And just about then, Mike called. And coined a new phrase. He told me to call him back when I wasn't so grumpy because he didn't like calling and getting the "back side of bitch" attitude that I was sharing. To protect myself and others, I remained silent.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

The Trouble Twins

No, not the kids. The animals. Specifically the dog, a 120ish pound American Bulldog just over a year old, and a cute as a bug 6-month old torty kitten. Both have the reputation of being hell on wheels when they wake up in the morning. All that stored up energy just waiting to explode. Just like little kids, when they sleep they store energy at exponential rates and can't wait to turn it loose when their eyes open.

We (the animals and I) had the house to ourselves last night. Mike is still in Alabama, Devan stayed at his grandparents, and Dean went to a friend's house. Oh the blessed quiet; well, except for Herc (the dog) and Roach (the kitten). If they're awake, they're usually in trouble.

We decided as a group to head to bed early, watch a bit of TV and catch up on our magazine reading. That also means the other two cats will join the party in short order. Six, who must always have her pudgy self on top of me at all times, and Leroy, who can ignore absolutely everything around him. An admirable male trait, to be sure.

It was lights out shortly after 11 and everyone fell fast asleep. At 1:30, Herc wanted out, despite the fact he went out at 11. At 3:45, Herc wanted out, despite the fact he'd been out at 11 and 1:30. I try not to complain, as the alternative is far less amusing.

Sundays are for sleeping in; as much as I can convince my internal clock to do so. If I make it to 8, I've done really well. At 7:19 my phone buzzed with a text message. 7:19. AM. On a Sunday morning. It's Mike: "What ya doin up yet?" It took me three tries to write back that I was trying to sleep. Ten minutes later, the phone buzzed again. "Well kick your boyfriend out and get up call me when u are up 4 good." The boyfriend, Leroy, chirped to show his unamusement. Six started purring in my ear. The dog stopped snoring and stretched enough to move the foot stool and chair. And Roach decided it was play time. Before long, she had everyone awake. The dog started whining to go out; Six started plowing circles around my head; and Leroy stretched out across my feet.

For 45 minutes, Herc and Roach played and ran circles through the house. Herc got into the laundry and I guess he shared the fun with Roach. He came through the kitchen gnawing on a pair of Devan's shorts and Roach was right behind him proudly carrying one of my fuzzy socks.

Now, everyone except me is enjoying their morning nap. I'm too wide awake to even think about it. Damn animals. I really love my pets...except for Sunday mornings.