Project in Progress

There are a lot of things going on at my house simultaneously, these days.

EldestDaughter is packing, in preparation to move into her own place. Hopefully soon. She’s just waiting on the housing lady to contact her.

Dear Goddess, let it be soon – we’re both getting tired of living with each other.

I’m packing up YoungerDaughter’s room. Moving her stuff into storage, considering she hasn’t lived here all year, & has no plans of ever moving back in. She has been in an apartment with some friends all year, is staying there through the summer for summer school, & has 1 year left of college.

Highly unlikely she’ll ever sleep in the room next to mine again. Why is her stuff still here?


I’m working on multiple furniture restoration projects at the moment. *shrug* Why take them on? I need the dresser, and the other 2 projects – a nightstand & a re-covered seat for a vanity table… well, they’re spare time fun.

I’m still working on bonsai trees, and have other art projects I’m going to be experiment  with. 

I made my mom a swing for her fairy garden out of some woodbine (vine-like trellis herpes- it won’t go away, no matter what I do)


*shrug* spare time sitting on my front step. 

And about those trees… here’s some of the latest:


Mother’s Day present for my Mom.


Mother’s Day present for a coworker’s mom.

And here are a couple of the latest to go up in my shop on Etsy – Just How I’m Wired




As you can see, I’m branching out into applying the trees to stones.

So, between one thing and my mother, I’m a little busy.

And yet, I still have time to obsess about shit I can’t change, control, or affect.

Insomnia can suck it.

I’M the project in process.

Shaky Days

I’ve been avoiding posting, for a while. These last couple weeks have been anxiety-ridden, and I simply haven’t felt much like writing about it.  My medication has been pretty much all that’s held me from vibrating to pieces.

The days have been shaky & full of equal parts joyous anticipation – and wary dread.

The nights have been riddled with insomnia & over analyzation.

The tension hasn’t ended; in fact, it’s still growing,  because the time is drawing near for E to arrive.

And I’m not completely sure how I am going to handle it.

What if he’s disappointed? What if, after all this time… it’s not everything he wanted? What if I’m not everything he’s built me up to be?

What if I fall off the pedestal he’s put me on?

Please…Goddess…let him love me for who I really am.

2 years of talking.
Please don’t let this be in vain.

Don’t break my heart -again.


It Takes Stones

The ride started on Saturday. A day of fun for most, but a day full of pain & stress for me, ending with my eldest taking me to the emergency room once again that night.

The diagnosis I expected.

Laparoscopic Cholecystectomy was what the Doctor ordered.

Gall bladder removal.

Sunday, I did nothing but wait. The surgeon came around about 10 am, & told me they would schedule my surgery – but didn’t give me a “when”. So, I sat and waited all through Sunday, never getting an answer whether I’d actually be going in that day. They didn’t even allow me to have my anti-anxiety meds, which made the whole waiting process that much more delightful. And with strong pain meds being administered about every 2 hours, I was in and out of consciousness sporadically, sleep came in short bursts, only to be interrupted by beeping machines & busy nurses.

Monday morning, I lost it. Broke down in tears when the surgeon finally made his rounds, & told me that they’d “try to fit me in” that day. I told him that I am a single mom, my kids need me, I hadn’t been allowed my anti-anxiety meds, so my anxiety was through the roof, and no one would tell me when I was going to be getting out of there. 

Believe me, I thought about just pulling the IV (which blew out my vein, then the nurses blew out 2 more looking for another good spot) and skipping out without the surgery. I came damned close more than once, but after talking to E, who calmed me down considerably, I stuck it out.



Both arms look like I got caned.

Monday  afternoon, I was finally taken into surgery, & they had a robot do the surgery. I guess there might be something redeeming in AI after all, because the job was neatly done.

Four neat stab wounds to the abdomen later, I was sent home Tuesday, my mom drove me to get my pain meds & some snacks for the invalid, as well as the kids.

Mom and Dad had both come up to see me on Monday, bringing flowers, and my dad even bought me a book on Nicola Tesla, who is one of my heroes. I have yet to read the book, however, because Dad took it home – he wanted to read it too! 

So, now I sit at home, waiting for the incisions to heal, waiting for the pain to subside so I can cough without wanting to hold myself together, and waiting to feel good enough so I can go back to work.  The surgeon wanted me to take 2 weeks off, but that isn’t possible, so we compromised on me taking 1 week, and seeing how I can get through at the office, maybe half days for a little while.

Right now, pretty much everything from my sternum to my belly button hurts. But, it’ll heal. And I’ll get on with my life.

It just takes stones.

What the Letters Taught Me

B – taught me that I was strong enough to walk away when it became obvious that love was dead, & I was no longer a partner, but a “comfortable convenience”. I learned that I could turn my life inside out, upside down, & sometimes – that’s what it takes to get back on track.

A- taught me that I am still fun to hang out with. That, after years of being passed over, I was still desirable. Still able to laugh & be silly, and that smart & sexy are still part of my repertoire.  But, I also learned that when the future shows you no change coming, no forward motion, you need to step off the path & wander your own way for a while.

J- – broke my last “give a fuck”. It was a pivotal point in my life. And I learned that I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life, but, if I end up that way… I can survive. I will never let another human being destroy me that way. Ever.

F- taught me – that sometimes… Love isn’t enough to fix someone else’s issue. And I learned that it doesn’t matter how I feel about someone if they won’t let me get close enough to prove it. Dragons are feral, wild & skittish creatures who will walk their own path, no matter what, or who, gets hurt & left behind.

And – E- well… E has so far taught me the meaning of patience in the face of insurmountable troubles. I’ve learned that I am more willing to wait than I ever thought I could be capable of.  I’ve learned that I can still have faith, still have the ability to BELIEVE in something that others just can’t, or refuse, to see. 

And yet… There are nights when I sit here, alone in the dark… And I… I am still alone. My “give a fuck” is still broken. I still doubt my own worth, sometimes.

Because the biggest thing I’ve learned over the last 5 years?

They always leave.

Ironic Shift

rainbow lightningJust when I think I’m getting ahead in life…

Along comes the lightning to show me the truth.

I should know better by now, hunh?

Things were looking up, I was looking forward… so of course, I didn’t see the bus coming up behind me that had plans of rolling over the top of me.

I’ve been sick for about 2 weeks now… starting with the flu, it morphed into an upper respiratory infection.  Snotty bobblehead in extremis, I’ve been coughing, fevered, exhausted, stuffed up and generally miserable for a while.

Ok, so far, I’m still able to deal… so here comes the kicker.

Thursday night, I went to bed early.  And woke up an hour and a half later with extreme chest pains, located directly behind my sternum.

Thinking it was probably just acid reflux, I took some meds, thinking – ok – 20 minutes or so, and I can go back to bed. Right?


Woke up at 12am – still in extreme pain at 1:30 am.  Feeling like someone was attempting to yank my heart out through my back, I decided I’d best get a professional opinion.

I’m not waking up EldestDaughter.  She’s got the toddler, so she’d have to get him dressed, drag him along at Zero o’clock, and sit and wait with the baby in a waiting room for godknowshowlong.  No.  OnlySon has school in the morning too, and has been sick, right along with everyone else in the house, so – no.

So, I drove myself to the emergency room.

Drugs, tests, more drugs, more tests… they talked about a possible pulmonary embolism (blood clot in the lung).  Let’s do an EKG, shall we?  Ok, no blod clots.  So far, so good.  So why am I still in excruciating pain?

Well… let’s do a CT scan, really up the game, here, hunh?

God-awful freezing cold room, with a dye test that makes you feel as though your insides are on fire and you’ve peed yourself.  Good thing I’m so tired at this point and so full of pinholes from IVs and blood tests that I no longer care whether I’m some mad scientist’s latest class project.

Oh, at this point, it’s approximately 4am, and I’ve been in the ER for about 2 hours, still in pain, going on an hour and a half of sleep, and all alone.

CT scan over… they roll me back to the ER, and back behind my protective curtain.  Wavering in and out of consciousness, between exhaustion, fear and drugs, I wait to hear back from the doctors, wait for a glass of water from a nurse that I can hear.. just on the other side of the curtain… playing FAMILY FEUD with her co-workers.

Hey!  Let’s do an ultrasound, shall we?  Just for shits and giggles?

Fine.  I no longer care.

Lucky, lucky me, I have a hiatal hernia – AND a super nice collection of gallstones.

At 6:30am, I’m desperately trying to reach my work before my phone goes dead.  I need to let them know that I’ve been here, in the ER, and won’t be in to work today.  I’m still in excruciating pain… the pain meds they’ve given me only last for about an hour, then the pain is back, shinier and sharper than ever.  But… it’s not a heart attack, so it’s all good, right?

Here.  A pack of papers telling you that you need to talk to a surgeon within the next few days.  Take some acid reducers to help with the GERD (gastroesophageal reflux disease – super-duper heartburn) Change your diet, don’t drink pop (haven’t had pop in months, thanks, stop looking at me like that).

Ok, here you go, get dressed and see ya later!


A never-ending series of ironic shifts, twisted plot lines and WTF moments.

Only way to go from here is forward.  It’s a good thing I’m resilient. (Read – too stubborn to stop)


Sympathy is NOT Empathy

Yesterday was not good.
Yesterday was, in fact, rather awful.
Migraine pain, overwhelmed at work, & just plain irritated, all I wanted was to be left alone to do my job.

Just let me work, K?

Yet, there were some in my vicinity who just had to give me their point of view on my situation.

No, I didn’t go up to them and say “I’m in a foul mood, talk me out of it.”
Nor did I even say anything concerning my mood, my workload, or the state of the union in general.

I was answering a question for one, when the other person interrupted to comment that it seemed as though I was in a bad mood.

Yeah, I am – now, back to the question.
But – didn’t I want to talk about it?
No, not especially. Can we just work?

*sigh* apparently not. Lovely woman that she is, she really wanted to try to help me out of my bad mood… but I was -a) in pain from the migraine, & b) just plain fed up with the day, I had gone into “overload mode”.

“I know just how you feel…”

Um, no. You don’t. You can’t.
Because, you see, that would be empathy. And unless you were born into my family, raised by the people I was, lived through all the experiences I have, & made all the exact same choices I’ve made…

You can never know exactly how I feel.

You can sympathize. Definitely.  You can commiserate, sure. But true empathy? Where you can literally feel my feelings?

Mighty rare, and I don’t think it was happening in this case.

I kind of blew off the advice.
I knew what I needed.
I needed the day to be over, so I could come home & decompress. I needed to break down & cry in my shower- wash away all the tears and let the ugly just be there. Let it wash over me, and through me, so it could pass.

So, while I appreciate the thought, and the willingness to want to help?

Just let me be in a bad mood all by myself, please?

Let me be, & this too shall eventually pass.

Try to “jolly” me out by telling me to “don’t let it get to you”?

And you’ll put yourself on the list of people I will most likely avoid when I’m not feeling 100%.

Because, no, in fact, you have NO IDEA how I’m feeling.