Get up

I’m so tired today, and I don’t know why.

I was the same last night, and ended up falling asleep in my chair around 7:30, without even eating any supper. I thought it was just going to be a nap, you know, wake up at 10, or so, & have the energy to get up, do some cleaning, talk to my nephew, maybe even do some crafting or play Fallout4 for a while…

Nope.

I woke at about 10, alright, but it was only to text the nephew for a couple minutes, both of us expressing deep exhaustion, & a desire to crawl into bed.

Did I?

Not right away. I fought it, fought it hard, for a couple of hours, I really tried to wake myself back up. After all, I’d just had a 2&1/2 hour nap, right?

So I finally gave up, snuggled back into my chair with my blanket & a requisite ankle cat (she who rests at my feet), & dropped back off to sleep.

And scored another 7 hours of unconsciousness.

So why am I already contemplating a nap, today?

This is ridiculous.

JENNIFER.

GET. UP.

Dirty Fingernails

I…do not have a green thumb.

They’re more of a washed-out khaki color, with tiny, green, oddly-shaped spots. 

I’ve tried the houseplant route, but I have cats. Cats are jerks, especially when it comes to houseplants. At least mine are, when they dig in the pot’s dirt and scatter it over the countertops. And they’re murderous asshats when they take a perfectly good aloe vera & turn it into a multi-holed sprinkler hose. And don’t even think about having flowers for long, as they make a tasty treat that is also a handy place for that loose fur that brushes neatly off as the cats use the petals as their back brush.

I’ve had some small successes, however.

My pumpkins are blooming!

This is the first year I’m trying this variety, which is called “Pink Peanut”, and I planted them in a raised flowerbed in front of my house, so I’m surprised & pleased that they’re doing as well as they are.

I also have a flowerbed lining my driveway.

The “weedy” looking stuff to the left is actually wild flax, which blooms in the morning, & loses its petals in the afternoon. The purple stuff is echinacea, otherwise known as purple coneflower. There are tulips in there, too, but they bloom in late May, so are hidden again for the year.

But…sadly, my skills seem to be limited to gourds & wildflowers, as here’s my other flowerbed, in which I planted my Forever Susan lilies. They did great this year, but the rest of what I tried to grow…well… Take a look.

Mostly baby weeds, and 2 – mind you, 2 little lettuce plants. *sigh* I seeded the whole rest of the flowerbed with leaf lettuce, and – alas. Not a salad in sight.

So, maybe I should try seeding this flowerbed with dandelions & call it good.

After all, you can eat the leaves in salad. And I’ve already proven I can grow weeds!

Remembering the Fair

It’s fair week in my city, and yes, I went with my Youngerdaughter and Onlyson today. 

It seems as though I have to go to the fair once every couple of years to remind myself why I don’t go to the fair anymore.

I enjoyed wandering around with the kids, talking as we looked at the sales booths, joking about them playing PokemonGo, deciding what we wanted to get to snack on as we meandered our way back out of the fair.

But the rest, I could’ve forgone. I would have been just as happy to pick up snacks & go for a walk in the park. Happier, in fact, to avoid the pressing crowds, the yelling Carneys, the messy walkways in between stalls & down the main pathway of the fair.

It was hot, especially out in the full sun of the midway, which is intensified by the pavement underneath, the heat radiating off the rides, & the up-close-and-personal crowds.

I used to love haunting the fair when I was younger. As a teenager, my friends & I would spend the whole day running around, riding rides, watching enduro car racing, playing games that we knew were rigged, but hoped that maybe the carney would like us enough to let us win, goofing off & running into people we knew.
I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t have any desire to ride the rides, & I don’t have any younger children who want to go on the little kid rides. I have no desire to pay for overpriced, and oftentimes, shoddily made items that will simply sit around, collecting dust, after a week. I really didn’t miss the filthy, awful-smelling bathrooms. And Goddess knows, even though the mini donuts are awesomely good, especially with a strawberry smoothie, if I don’t have them…it’s not the end of the world. 

The $10/person admission for the 2 hours we spent there, plus the extra $25 spent on our snacks (1shaved ice, 1pretzel, 1 small bag of mini donuts & 1 strawberry smoothie) would’ve bought us all supper & ice cream… But whatever.

Chalk this up to an afternoon spent talking to my kids, while the world spun around us. And next year, I think I’ll skip the sunburn and the sweaty hair.

I’ll take them to the park, and we can sit around eating dairy queen while they hunt the ever-elusive MewTwo.

It’s All About Me

This blog is, anyway.

What I write here, comes from my head, my heart, my fingertips. 

Yes, I’ve talked about my kids, my family, my friends…but these are people who are in my life, so once again, it circles back to yours truly in the end.  How I feel about them, how I feel about what they said, or did, or what happened to them.  It’s my perspective on the world around me, and the people in it, that you end up reading.

So, it’s my galaxy, my universe, here.  And that gives me permission to say what I want…within my own limits.

If you are a satellite in the orbit of this, my universe, you run the risk of finding your story appearing somewhere within the lines of my posts. I might not use your real name (probably won’t, as I try to protect the people I care about from the rigors of others knowing their words, actions, stories), but, sooner or later, something I write will resonate in your mind. 

Hey, I resemble that remark!

And if it makes you laugh, or makes you cringe, well… It’s still my story told here.

As I read somewhere, “If they wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

I’m not an impossible person to get along with. I have only a few rules that you really shouldn’t break, at least, not if you want to stay inside the circle.

1. Don’t lie to me.

2. Don’t break promises. Matter of fact, don’t make promises, unless you absolutely know you can keep them.

3. And to expand on #2, if you tell me you’re going to do something? Doesn’t matter if you say the word “promise” or not. I will take you at your word. If you can’t do what you said you were going to? Call, text, message me. I’m not insensitive, & I know that plans change because life gets in the way. 

But, I do also have feelings. I won’t put up with being “ghosted” or ignored. It’s rude, insensitive, & ultimately, it tells me that I mean shit to you.  So I’ll be on my way, without a backward glance. 

I’m worth more than that.

4. I expect my friends & family to call me out on my bullshit, too. I am an introvert with anxiety, which means I don’t really like going out, much. I detest crowds. So, sometimes, if I’ve made plans with someone, I’ll try to worm out of them. And I can also get irrational when my anxiety is really high, or my depression really low. My friends & family care enough to talk me down, ride it out, and wait for the storm to pass.

5. Don’t do anything to hurt my friends or family. I’m awful at sticking up for myself, but if anyone hurts someone I care for? Back up, & buckle up. It’s going to get ugly, fast.

That’s it. 

Don’t lie, don’t jerk me around, don’t let me be a jerk, & don’t hurt the ones I love.

Not that hard to follow, right?

In other words…

Don’t be a dick.

Because if you are… Chances are you’ll see yourself in the words I write…and it won’t end with “happily ever after”.

Snark Attack

​When your day has gone downhill

And you know you’ve had your fill
You just can’t take the shame
But they give you all the blame

When the fit hits the shan
And the odor fills the air,
Call me up, my dear friend
I’ll be right there.

Murphy always knows
Just how to make your day
He’ll promise you some joy
Then rip it all away

He’ll drop your drink
Put hair in your food
Split grocery bags
And ruin your mood.

So when you’re a’tweeting
Or blogging a post
Facebooking too
Please be a good host

Invite me to see
How you handle the gaffe
I promise to be there
I could use a good laugh!

Cause Murphy is well travelled,
He’s been all over town
And I know that you’ve met him
At some point, he’s knocked you down

So if you need a giggle,
I’ve got one that’ll suit just fine
You show me yours
And I’ll show you mine!

~Jen

 -Jan. 15, 2014

Gilmored

Ahhh, the Gilmore Girls.

Fast talking, sarcastic, intelligent, funny, and totally devoted to each other & the people they care about.
And one of the few TV shows that sucks me in, every time, no matter how often I’ve watched it.

I got stuck tonight, I tried to watch just one episode. 

Oh, God.

I can’t just watch one episode.

I should’ve known better.

I’m now 6 episodes deep, & I desperately need to go to bed…

But it’s the Bracebridge Dinner episode!

And it’s the beginning of the Luke and Lorelei romance, which is my favorite ‘ship of the show.

I mean… These 2, have the perfect blending of friendship, romantic affection, and “I won’t put up with your shit” for each other.  

No matter how many times I watch, it’s just… Gilmore magic.

Netflix, you’re just evil.

Beginning week 2 of “Recuperation”

Most nights I can’t sleep for shit.

Oh, I have good intentions, & high ideas about how it’ll be. ..but suddenly, I look up at the clock, & 3 hours have slipped by, caught in the pages of a book in my hands, or tangled in the wires I’ve been crafting with.

Or, simply breathed away on the breeze filtering in through my living room window, while I sit in silence, reading drivel on my phone through social media & news apps.

Since OnlySon has gone to his father’s for the summer, & I’m stuck here after my surgery, recuperating & bored to tears by forced inactivity, my sleep schedule has been completely screwed.

I know I need to fix it, but between not being able to be physically active due to the surgery, & my proclivity towards night-time awakefulness (yes, it’s a word, I just made it), it’s been difficult to gather the necessary gumption to repair the timing of waking in the early morning & going to bed at what most consider a “decent hour”.

In other words, since it’s just me, & I can’t do what I want (physically demanding things, anyway), then why bother?

I have tried to stretch myself, to go do “normal” stuff… and ended up exhausting myself after half an hour’s walking through a store. I didn’t do any heavy lifting, no strenuous exercise,  just a little personal shopping, for fuckssake.  And when I got home, my body screamed at me for 2 solid hours, then shut down for the rest of the night, & through today, like a sulky brat.  Yeah, lesson learned,  there.   Today I felt as though I were swimming through smoke, with weights tied to both ankles & wrists. And I slept through a good portion of the afternoon to try to make up for abusing my body yesterday.

Let’s hope it worked, and tomorrow I’ll be able to do some light gardening, seated firmly on the ground by my flowerbed so I can pull weeds for a few minutes.

Because if this keeps up, I’ll go stark raving bug nuts inside another week.

And it’s not a far trip from where I am now….

Cat

Chloe.
OnlySon’s cat.
Lapwarmer.
Irritating evening yowl-sounder.
Dog teaser.
Sleepmate.
Early morning tail-in-face flicker.
Catnip addict.
And when she visits the cat box….
The repository of dead, rotted souls.

Ah, gawd. The stench.

Eats the exact same food as my other cat, and yet… something inside this feline has died, and revisits us every time she evacuates her bowels.

Errrrrgh….*choke, gag*

Destination, Determination, Deliberation

I’ve been re-reading the Harry Potter series of books again lately.

And have a phrase stuck in my head, as I sit here, struggling through the remnants of today’s migraine. 

It’s rather like fighting through a sticky spider web, only the web has thorns that unexpectedly jab me in the head & neck…so forgive me if I ramble a bit & sometimes fall off my train of thought altogether.

I have an appointment with my regular doc on Thursday. Since the “specialist” told me that my abdominal pain is not kidney-related, I don’t have much choice but to begin the whole investigation process over.  So, it’s back to the first square on this freaking chutes & ladders game I’ve been stuck in.

Always, you think you’re getting somewhere, when suddenly – the ground opens up & you’re on a chute headed for the beginning again.  Milton Bradley, you’ve got some explaining to do about that deal you made with Satan…

Anyway, I’ve got this phrase in my head “Destination, determination, deliberation”… which is used in the HP books when the kids are learning about Apparition – or the means of traveling instantly from their current place, to a destination of their choosing.  They have to focus their determination – see themselves with their mind’s eye, standing in the place they want to be… and use deliberation to get them there, meaning they force the magic within themselves as wizards to move them, displacing time, space,  and probably about 12 other laws of physics.

So, you ask, how does this, in my pain-med riddled brain, equate with my doctor’s appointment?

Well, I’ve decided that I’m going to make my Dr. sit & listen to ALL that I have to say, so we can actually get to the bottom of whatever it is causing my pain. 
My destination is to be pain-free.

My determination is to not leave her office until she hears everything, & agrees that I need to have different tests run, something that will encompass the whole area that is governed by my pain, not just one small organ.

My deliberation?
Well, there my path diverges slightly from norm…

As I told my mother the other night, I’m going to make my doctor see my pain, by circling it in Sharpie.

Yup, I’m going to pull a surgeon’s own modus operandi, & mark the areas of pain.

What the hell do I care if my belly has permanent marker on it for a few days? If it’ll get the doc to really look at me, see what it is I’ve been trying to tell her?

Not like there’s anyone I’m trying to impress with unblemished white skin, lately. 

So, fuck it.

I’m making myself a walking incident report.
Let’s see her ignore that.

Deliberate enough for ya?

Specializing in Not Much

2016 seems to be my year.
Seriously.

It’s my year- – – for specialists.

A few months ago, I started having pain in my right side. Right where my kidney is. The kidney that I had to have surgery on in 2001, and thought I’d never have trouble with again.

And here I am, having troubles.

Yay.

So, I packed my happy ass off to my regular doctor, & told her all about it. She ordered the usual suspects – blood tests, urinalysis,  and an ultrasound.

Some results pointed at a possible issue, but it’s not kidney stones, so she didn’t know what it could be.

Whoopee. Time to swing out the big guns.
A urologist.

Monday, I went to see Herr Doktor – and wound up seeing Herr Doktor’s Nurse Practitioner instead.  We’ll call him “Precious”.

Why? Because I had to wait a freaking month just to get in to see a Nurse Practitioner, for one.

Two? Because Precious didn’t even do an exam! He talked to me, asked me where it hurts, what makes it better, what makes it worse, blah, blah ,blippity  blah.

He didn’t even have me get on the exam table so he could do the usual prod & test of the offending area.

He sat on his little rolling stool, legs crossed, and talked to me as though I am some kind of hysterical, hypochondriac female.

And when I told him my history – how I’d been through testing before my surgery – 5 FUCKING YEARS OF TESTING, with the exact same pain I’m experiencing now, same place, same batchannel, same bat time – you know what he told me?!?

No, you don’t,  because it was so far out from left field, I couldn’t believe it when he said it!

“I think it’s musculoskeletal “.

Dafuq?

AND, he can’t schedule any additional testing, he has to make a recommendation to the urologist.

Precious little got accomplished at this visit, but you can bet it’s going to cost me a precious penny or 12.

When did it become impossible to actually SEE a doctor?

When did it become a mine field of obstacles, nurses, automated phone systems & “nurse practitioners ” surrounding the Precious Doctors like a Wall of Doom?!?

All I want is someone to fucking listen to me, to believe me when I tell them that, after going through 5 years of pain, and every test known to man and his dog, then surgery… that MAYBE, JUST MAYBE I KNOW MY BODY PRETTY FUCKING WELL?!?

#\$&$\!\#*$(@*!&!&/! $@!*#/(/($£7=£&!&×!!!

Oh yeah, and I had to go to an Endodontist today to have a root canal redone. The guy was pretty cool, actually, & is Donny & Marie Osmond’s nephew.

And all it took was $1000.00 out of my pocket after my insurance paid their part.

But he’s got a nice tenor voice, and a good sense of humor, so there’s that.

Whoopee.