In, Out, Up, Down, Here, There & Everywhere

In, Out, Up, Down, Here, There & Everywhere…that’s been my week so far, so much happening all at once.

Monday morning I was called into my boss’s office and let go…once again. Usually in my line of work (and it might be this way in other places as well, but I don’t know) while you are being let go, IT is locking you out of your computer and some one or more than one someone is waiting at your desk to escort you out after you gather your personal effects.  It’s definitely a good reason not to store anything personal (photos, email addresses, files, etc) on your computer, but I don’t know anyone who doesn’t.  However, I am very fortunate that the company I work (soon to be past tense) for doesn’t do that, or at least not to me.  I have been given a two-week notice…my last day will be next Friday.  I know part of the reason for that is they have a job that needs to be completed and I am the only production person they have and the other part is to allow me time to hopefully find a job before I leave this one.  I have always liked the people I have worked for and worked with; they are good people. They did everything they could to keep me here even though the economy (and the housing market) sucks rocky mountain oysters through a skinny purple bendy straw.

I am not as devastated this time as I was the time before.  I don’t have anything lined up for sure (although I got a somewhat promising lead that may pan out) but I know that something will happen and it’ll be okay.  The last time I was laid off/let go/fired/whatever you want to call it I was crushed and I felt like a complete and utter failure.  It didn’t matter that I knew I wasn’t being let go because of work performance, I was being let go…that was enough to do me under…and it did.  I slipped into quite a funk and it’s only been in the last few months that I’ve finally come out of it all together.  I refuse to spiral into that same depression again.

This time the world is not knocking a scared little girl flat on her ass.  No, this time the world is trying to knock down a fighter who has the backing and support of friends and family.  I know that this time when I have no fight left in me, there will be people to hold me up or fight for me if need be.  This time I not in that ring alone.  This time the world just better watch out!  Back off! Be afraid! Be very afraid!

In other news…Tuesday afternoon I came home early because Chuckie was throwing up, sweating buckets and having severe abdominal discomfort in the lower right quadrant.  Off we went…first to urgent care (not a good idea) and then straight on to the emergency room because he had three out of the four signs of appendicitis. The doctor pushed on Chuckie’s stomach, moved his leg in all sorts of contortionistic positions and asked him questions about his medication and bathroom habits.  It was hard to sit there and watch him whither in pain knowing that the only thing I could do for him was sit there and watch him whither in pain.  After the doctor was done the nurse took blood and started an IV of an anti-nausea medication and some type of pain-killer that made Chuckie extremely loopy.  After the meds kicked in he insisted the IV machine was talking to him.

“Do you hear it?” he’d ask me “It’s telling me to eat my jelly.  Listen. Eat your jelly. Eat your jelly. Do your hear it?”

He had the right rhythm and it was hard not to laugh at him because he was so serious about it.  I finally convinced him it was telling him to “drink your drink now” because they had brought him this crystal light mixture that they wanted him to drink within a half an hour so they could take him for a CT scan.

An hour an a half after we arrived they took him back for a scan and then forgot he was there.  Seriously the nurse came in twice looking for him…the first time she asked me for a urine sample and then realized I wasn’t the patient (really quick on the uptake there lady) and the second time she came in and asked me if it was possibly that Chuckie ran.  “Yeah sure, he has an IV in his arm but I’m sure he’s feeling just loopy enough on those drugs to walk home…wait, let me go check.” is what I thought in my head.  “Well, I have his wallet, keys & phone, so my guess is he’s still in your hospital” is what I said. Finally an hour after they took him to CT the crack-pot nurse went looking for him…he was asleep in the CT room and Ron, who had wheeled him there, ‘forgot all about him’.  Helllllooooo! How the heck do you forget that you took him there?  Seriously?  Where did they find these people.

Anyway, three hours after we arrived the doctor came in to tell us that there was nothing wrong with Chuckie…everything came back normal…his appendix was on the large side of normal but since it was in the normal range there was nothing they could do.  Basically we will have to pay over a half a grand for them to tell him to take a laxative and follow-up with his primary care physician.  Okay, thanks…great advice.  And I am certain that because things are they way they are…his appendix will rupture…the day AFTER my insurance is no longer in effect. I’m looking forward to that….NOT.

Lastly, I have made the decision to go back to school. I am in the process of enrolling at the University of Phoenix…gathering my transcripts and filling out financial aid/student loan papers.  It’s starting to feel real that I am going to do this.  I am finally taking a step toward what I wanted to do…what I’ve always wanted to do.  And it won’t be easy, but I am learning that life isn’t easy…and that’s okay.

It requires no apologies…

My sleeping patterns are just that…a pattern.  I go through a time where I am easily getting seven to eight hours of very solid, restful sleep every night and life is good.  Then I find myself waking up six hours after I fall asleep and I still feel rested and able to conquer my day. Slowly that slips into me not being able to fall asleep, no matter what I do, my mind races and even if my body is physically exhausted my mind refuses to shut down and so I start only getting five hours a night and then four and sometimes even three. Of course at that point I don’t feel rested and after a week or so of that part of the pattern my mood starts to shift…that’s where I am at…my mood has shifted.

The past couple of days I haven’t been able to grab onto my sunshiney yellow disposition with both hands and use it for all it is worth.  No, instead a little blue has slipped in and I find my temperament to be more of a pukey, baby shit green.  Not pleasant to look at or be around. And while some of it is a result of my lack of sleep, I know that my jacked up sleep schedule isn’t the only culprit.

Some of this funk is the introspective, dig-deep, soul-searching, self-evaluation that I go through each year without fail.  And honestly I’d like to find a way to snap out of it and not go through it all.  I hate having to take a good hard look at my faults and failures and see where change needs to be made. I hate feeling vulnerable and raw with emotion. I hate coming to the realization that everything is not okay the way it is. I hate realizing that I’ve pretended for as long as I could. I hate having to dig deep to find the courage to make changes, because change is hard.

So please bear with me while I go through this…please keep in mind that sometimes I will pretend to be all sunshiney yellow even though I am not because it might be the only way I can make it through that day.  And sometimes there will be no pretending and my mood and attitude will be pukey, baby shit green.  I’d like to apologize for that, but I won’t, because it is life…it is where I am at…it is what I am going through right now.  And that requires no apologies, none at all.

 

 

So what do you think it means when…

Last night I had a dream that I sang karaoke at a bar with a complete stranger.  That alone is so far out of my comfort zone that I found it a bit amusing to think about when I woke up this morning.  But there I was, on this stage, with my hair in this really pretty curly wavy style looking good….not drop dead model good, but good, and belting out Lady Antebellum’s Need You Know with a complete stranger (who wasn’t half bad-looking).  B was in the bar with me too, but she wouldn’t sing with me no matter how much I whined…and I whined in this dream, which was a little disturbing, but nevertheless, I did it and it didn’t work because she held her resolve and stayed in her seat.

So what do you think it means?

This Is The Stuff

Every now and then I pick up take out from a place that’s been in business for over 30 years.

Tonight I picked up ‘Stuff’; a soup with beef, macaroni, potatoes, carrots and celery in a tomato broth. I was sort of hoping I’d have enough for lunch tomorrow but apparently Chuckie likes Stuff too.

One of these days I am going to try to recreate the soup at home but I am not sure I am ever going to be able to make it taste quite the same. I think there is a secret ingredient in there.

Maybe I should ask the cook if she will reveal her secret.  Does a cook ever reveal their secrets? Maybe if I ask nicely and say pretty please. Maybe then my mom will tell me how she makes that soup.

It’s the end of the world as we know it…

Finally, I am getting around to answering the questions asked of me.  This wasn’t as easy as it appears.

G: What would your weapon of choice be in a Zombie Apocalypse?

I realized when I read this question that I knew nothing about zombies and whether or not there was a special way to kill them dead. Silver bullet? No, I think that’s werewolves or is that vampires?  Stake to the heart? That’s definitely vampires.  So I had to actually research, or Google anyway, how to kill a zombie, and the general consensus seems to be to destroy the brain.  Great, I have to bash their head in…what weapon would I use for that besides a very big rock?

It would have to be light enough for me to lift and light enough for me to carry while I was running, so boulders wouldn’t be an option. Plus if I chose a rock I’d either have to be a really, really good shot or I’d have to get really, really close.  Okay, so that’s not happening.  Rock is out.

Supposedly you can also shoot them in the head.  But, I don’t think I could hit the broadside of the barn if I had all the time in the world to stop, concentrate and take my shot; there is no way on God’s green earth I am going to hit the head of a zombie stumbling towards me in hopes to eat my brains.  Plus with my luck I’d probably end up shooting some innocent bystander who just didn’t run as fast as me. Then I’d be so emotionally distraught that the zombies would catch me and eat my brains and I wouldn’t even put up a fight. (Okay, maybe a little bit of a fight, but I would know in the back of my mind that I deserved to have my brains devoured for taking an innocent life)  So the gun is a no-go as well.

Maybe I could carry a very large stick and walk softly. A very, very long stick.

Grenades…that’s it.  That would be my weapon of choice.  I can lob a softball with some accuracy so I am sure I could lob a grenade in the center of the cluster of zombies stumbling towards me.  Grenades would blow up their brains, right?  No, not necessarily?  Okay fine then, I will toss the grenade and since I am with you…you poke them with the big stick or bash them with the rock or use whatever weapon you chose while they are down….but hurry up, I don’t want to chance them getting up again.

J: Copy cat Greg, I have been waiting patiently for her to ask this question, so I could post my question. Either you can read my mind, or just maybe “great minds think alike” ?

I would do everything possible to gather all of my family in one place and make a plan from there.  This would give me the best chance of seeing what resources we have among us and what each person’s needs are.

G: Well, I think I’ll just jump right into this as we wait for Mel’s reply.  This first order of business, of course, is finding and securing the cooperation of a doctor.  This is always so over looked in books/movies.  Can I set a broken bone?  No!  Can I tell the difference between the fever caused by the flu and a fever caused by – say, broken kidneys? Again, no.  So while heading up Mt. Lemon with my ‘seed survival’ packets I’d be looking for -medics, goats (cows r 2 unmanageable), chickens, and a short wave radio . . .

J: I have been adding to my collection of survival items and skills, by using the surplus magazine. They have Field surgery and medical diagnosis books, as well as surgical medical kits and top of line survival medical kits. I may not know how to do these things, but just in case the Dr.’s eyes are eaten out by the zombie’s, I will have some idea of what to do. It is important in this case, not to be illiterate.

G: Had no idea that such things existed.  Screw the doctors then (hopefully for a handful of cash) I’ll stock up on do-it-yourself medical procedures.  I may, however, still be on the look out for a handsome nurse to assist in the ‘treatments’ I’d rather not do alone.

The way I see it, we have enough people in our family and we all come to the table with unique skills and resources.  If we chose to work together, we could easily survive as a group. 

J: And do not forget to gather a few random people, who will eventually be used to throw to the zombies, like a couple of older white women, who do a lot of screaming, and don’t leave home without the token black guy.

Of course our family commune would probably soon become like a reality television show and we would be sacrificing the free-loaders and the people with no valuable skills to the zombies.  And the token black guy, well we are going to have to find another other than the one we already have because I do believe the one we have would be extremely useful in a time like this.

What one question would you like to ask me?

Your turn…you can ask me ANYTHING and as long as I can answer it, I will.

How do you want the world to be different because you lived in it?

I never wanted to make a difference in the world by curing cancer (although that would be a nice thing to be able to do) or by inventing the next big thing.

No, I’ve always wanted the difference I make in the world to be very personal. In my lifetime, I hope that someone’s life is changed and is different (for the better) because of a word I’ve said, a smile I’ve given, a listening ear I’ve provided or a random act of kindness I’ve performed.

What makes you feel safe?

I feel safe knowing that there are a small group of people who will ALWAYS be there for me regardless.  They will be there if I make a fool of myself or if I achieve greatness.  They will be there to laugh with me and sometimes at me (we all need that once in a while even if we hate to admit it), they will be there to cry with me and cry for me, and they will be there to fight alongside me and fight for me.

No matter what I will never be alone and that is all I need to make me feel safe.

What would you put in a time capsule to be opened by the next generation?

I would leave the next generation an IPOD filled with the music that is popular today in all genres.

What season of the year best reflects you as a person?

I am in a time that is messy….the heaviness of winter is melting away leaving dirty, messy puddles.  Some to be avoided and some to be splashed about in.  And in addition to the leftovers of a darker and drearier time, there is also new growth…a blossoming new life.

I am spring.