27 February 2006
I don't know much about the site so I don't know if it's good or not that it's there, but it's me...touted somewhere besides here at Brave Lettuce. As mah Thug would say, Word.
2. If we were good at communication, we would not be where we are now. This morning should not have been a surprise to either of us.
3. Thank you for the reminder of why I am where I am now, lest I forget and become weak in a moment of loneliness.
4. If I have to take peanut butter, bread, and bottled water to eat while I'm on my vacation this weekend, so be it because it is important to my mental health (and the safety of all those around me) that I go.
Thank goodness for my family, both family of origin and those that are family to me now, or I sometimes think I might just run away and never come back. Today I had planned to talk about milestones...setting up my own bank account...finding a place to live that's only mine...managing being a single dog/cat parent and working and keeping up with responsibilities...getting the dishes and the clothes washed, for heaven's sake. But all my milestones faded in the face of one phone conversation this morning, and two hours later I'm still on the verge of angry tears. Nothing a little fast food can't make better, however...and it is lunchtime after all.
22 February 2006
Kalyne and I rode the bumper cars first, which for me was more a "spinning uncontrollably in circles in the corner" than a ride. You can't go backward or forward, really, as the controllers move you either to the left or the right. I did learn that if you slam both of them forward at the same time you will hurtle yourself in somewhat of a forward position and if you do the same thing only backward you're asking for a concussion.
Side note to my dear friend Kris: Yes, I remember what a concussion really is, and believe me, I could have given myself one on several attempts to move backward in that bumper car had my head not already been thrown to one side or another by someone else plowing into me. It truly is a wonder that I have a driver's license.
Next came a round of Air Hockey. I play this at the hospital sometimes with the patients. Easy enough, I thought.
Square off with Kalyne "I am going to make you bleed even though this isn't a real ice rink and the puck is only an inch thick" Lynch across an Air Hockey table and see if you don't come away visibly shaken and crying for your mommy! She beat me, obviously, and even overcame the two shots I made where the puck came off the table. Seems I haven't gotten over the problem that started in my college billiards class where the ball became airborne a few times. Luckily that mom grabbed her kid out of the way before the puck became one with her noggin, but I digress...
After that we headed for Skee Ball, otherwise known as The Only Thing In An Arcade That Nan Can Do Well. I managed to beat "mah Thug" with a score of 28,000, and I choose not to notice that at the start of the round that produced that score the machine started me with 2,000 points. Technicality, I say. Not worth more than a cursory mention.
When we had fended off the sad looking little boy standing behind us that wanted our skee ball machine for as long as we could, we took in a few rounds of hoops. I have never liked that game for several reasons: 1. I normally can't get the ball through the hoop if I'm standing above it and place it there. 2. I'm really afraid of games that might injure my hands, and a plethora of basketballs hurtling toward my fingers just doesn't seem that safe. 3. Charles used to want me to play that with him and he always beat me into a pulp due to his freakish talent with a basketball. I swear I used to think the machine saw him coming and would just give up on the spot.
We played the basketball one till it broke, literally...either that or time truly can stand still because there were seven seconds left on the clock for about fifteen minutes. Once I pried Kalyne off the basketballs I hopped onto a video game that simulates skateboarding. Did you know that when you hit something on one of those games, there is an announcer that goes "Aw Man..." so loud I bet my mother heard it in Cleveland, Georgia? Nothing got by that announcer, and by the time I got to the bottom of the "run" on my head, my toon got up and put her face in her hands.
Last was another round of Air Hockey, and this time Kalyne took pity on me I think. My puck only came off the table once during that round but she still beat me. For all her work and effort, she came away with a green, fully posable alien, a lovely Chinese fan, and a teeny purple see through ninja...whom I quickly defeated when I hit the gas and he fell off my dashboard. Haha, secret ninja power is no match for the might of the HONDA!
Maybe I did hit my head too hard on those bumper cars after all...
21 February 2006
Mental cruelty and incompatibility are not grounds for divorce in South Carolina.
Before a divorce can be granted, the Court must determine that efforts at getting the husband and wife back together have failed or that attempts at reconciliation would not be practical. Corroboration or verifying testimony about the grounds is necessary before the Court will grant a divorce.Can I just move back home to Georgia really quick?
From Divorce Interactive (bold type is mine):
Georgia divorce laws have maintained for 13 grounds required for divorce. Among these grounds are adultery and cruel treatment. However, most divorces in Georgia are granted on the no-fault ground that the marriage is irretrievably broken and without fault or wrongdoing. Additionally, one of the spouses must have resided in Georgia for at least 6 months prior to filing for a decree of divorce in Georgia.Don't misunderstand, I'm not implying any kind of treatment of that sort toward me by Scott. I'm saying that it is incredibly sad to the point of pitiful that a spouse can mentally abuse his/her spouse and the state of South Carolina finds nothing wrong with that...at least not wrong enough that a divorce from the perpetrator will be granted.
I'm back to the place, I think, where I just want to wake up tomorrow morning and be free and clear to move on with my life. I should have been born in a sit-com. However, since I was born in the real world and chose to move to South Carolina after getting married, I have to wait until November of this year to be free. Happy Birthday to me, I suppose.
18 February 2006
Lizzard - I haven't known when it's 4:30pm since the day I left for Mountain Hounds because my Lizzard-Alarm is gone. Ask the others, they'll tell you. I miss your big blind eyes staring at me till your nose figures out who I am and nips me on the nose like the disobediant pup I always am.
Profile - I love how you've managed to make a race track out of the 3 foot by 3 foot space in the guest room that has carpet, and how your eyes look when you lay your ears back and staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaare at me.
Jeany - I love how you chatter your teefers like there's an earthquake going on in your mouth and how when you perk your ears up your eyebrows follow suit.
Hunky - I love how after almost six years of being my protector, my lovey boy, my best friend and the other half of my brain...after six years, every time I lean down to hug you, you still stick your nose up into my hair right next to my neck, take a deep breath like you're memorizing me, and sigh.
16 February 2006
I would like to direct your attention to the archives where it is recorded that Profile ran away from my house one morning because my gate had been left open. I didn't leave the gate open, mind you...the person painting my house did. I knew I should have gone ahead and gotten that padlock, I just knew it, but I didn't.
Today when I got home from work, the person had returned and was set up on my front porch, painting the front door. I came in, locked the door, and went to let the dogs out. Thankfully I thought to myself, "Self, you know that even though you've told him over and over to shut the gate he never does, so you'd better check it."
The gate was standing open.
It took all my resolve just to walk over and shut the gate and not run around to the front of the house and...well, do something very ugly and probably illegal in several states to him with the paintbrush in his hand. Instead, I shut and latched the gate and let the dogs out as usual. When the "painter" (I use quotes because I'm about 150% sure he isn't a professional) let me know he was leaving, I told him to make sure he shut the gate. He had the nerve to say he had, but apparently I have inherited the superpower my mother used to have that would render you incapable of lying when she looked at you just the right way. He admitted to having "maybe" left it open "one time" and shuffled off my porch as I slammed the door.
Crisis=dog getting out...that would have lead to a homicide on the front porch.
Just the railing and the floor of the porch to go and the nightmare will be over...
Missing step? POUR THE WATER INTO THE COFFEE POT. A full carafe of water sitting in the pot does no good, it seems...
15 February 2006
This quiz struck me because last week I got a phone call from one of my dearest friends from high school, Sean...fellow Artsy Freaky Kid.
Whether you were a drama freak or an emo poet, you definitely were expressive and unique.
You're probably a little less weird these days - but even more talented!
Remember Pretty in Pink? Sean was Duckie to my Andie. In fact, I still call him Duckie. He is probably one of the most sentimental men I know, and he remembers EVERY minute of high school like he had some kind of betamax recorder running in his head from 1984-1989. The reason he called, though, was to see if I remembered something from the years right after high school and I am mortified to admit that when he asked me, I couldn't remember.
My freshman year of college Sean joined the Air Force. Shortly thereafter he was sent to the Gulf as part of Desert Shield. I still remember my mother calling me at Camp Glisson where I was working to tell me that Sean had been sent overseas. Suddenly everything was too real and too bright and we were adults and high school was over. Everything was not going to go back to being okay at the end of the half hour like it did on TV. My Duckie was on the other side of the world, and there might be people shooting at him.
One night, in the middle of the night, my phone rang in my dorm room at Young Harris. It was Sean, calling me from the Persian Gulf somewhere! Bless his heart, he had to listen to me cry for the first few minutes, I was so happy to hear from him. We decided that at night, even though we were so far apart, that we would look up at the moon and look for the closest star that we saw and that would be our star. That way it wouldn't seem so far away. Bless his heart, he was trying, I think, to calm down his hysterical friend who was not dealing with his deployment with any kind of grace or sanity...
And THAT is what he asked if I remembered last week when he called. And I didn't. And I am mortified and embarrassed that something that wonderful had slipped my mind. I am so proud of Sean now...he is still in the Air Force, thank GOODNESS he's still at home and not deployed again. He has a wonderful wife that he worships and two beautiful children.
So to my Artsy Fartsy Friend Duckie...thanks for reminding me...I'll be looking for that star and remembering that I'm not alone...and that somewhere out there, you've got a chicken salad lid ready to put in a prop box, a Levi's 501 commercial to sing in four part harmony, and a little yellow pickup truck just waiting to give me a ride around to the front of the school. See? I do remember some things...
14 February 2006
One thing my boss is NOT is observant. I once cut about 10 inches off my hair and it took him several months to ask me what looked different about me. It requires a radical change in one's appearance to get his attention and even more so to make him comment...such as if I stopped wearing suits to interpret in probate court and suddenly showed up in a halter top and flip flops. Well, actually, that would probably involve the authorites, an indecent exposure charge and some sort of endangerment to minors, but I digress...
My boss looked at me today and said, "Are you all right? You look sort of..." (pause as he, God bless him, searches for a non-offensive way to say I look like the underside of a mudflap in a blizzard)
"I look sort of what?"
"Well, sort of...grrrrrr."
"Yeah, you know, grrr. Tense."
I reminded him what day it was, and said that I was tired, and I handed him my leave slip from being out sick yesterday. God bless him again, he didn't ask any more questions.
And here I thought that I looked rather "weeeee hooooo" with a touch of "oh mah gaaahd how granola!" today, as I skipped the makeup (to avoid raccoon-ism should I think of Bo and cry) and have my rats nest of curly tresses pulled up in a ponytail. I wonder if it's my shoulders that are saying "grrrr" or perhaps my giant forehead...it does tend to snarl a bit when I pull back the hair that it normally hides behind.
Thank goodness it's only 2 weeks until I leave to go to Sandy Paws and Jacksonville for five days...we wouldn't want my "grrrr" to turn into a "rawr" or a "grrooowwwwl" because that's when people get hurt. It's only funny until someone's attitude puts out an eye, after all.
13 February 2006
Ooh child, things are gonna get easierOn February 13th, 2003, sometime in the afternoon, I was driving back from Clinton, SC in my old Honda, with BoBo stretched out across the backseat on some blankets. He never liked my choice of music, but when I got to our song and stopped singing (I think THAT is truly the issue he had with my music...my warbling along) he settled back and stopped whining. For the 3+ minutes that song lasted, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw that strong jaw, those bright eyes, and that beautiful light yellow brindled fur. "Oooh Child" by the Five Stairsteps was on the CD player, and it quickly became our song, Bo's and mine, and I'd been singing it to him at night while sitting with him downstairs.
Ooh child, things'll get brighter
Some day, yeahScott had to help me get him out of the car, of course, because he was so weak that it was tough to manage the backseat of a Civic. We also had to watch and make sure that we didn't damage the IV line that was now a permanent part of one of his front legs. Once in the basement, I found my standard spot on the floor next to his dogbed and reminded him that once he was better he could sleep anywhere he wanted, even on that stupid fluffy rug in the bathroom.
We'll put it together and we'll get it all done
When your head is much lighter
Some day, yeahAs I'd done for the past two weeks, I fell asleep that night on the concrete floor in the basement with my head and arm on his dogbed. I didn't sleep long though...BoBo couldn't always tell us fast enough when he had to go out, so I think for those two weeks I drifted in a state of near conciousness so that I wouldn't miss him calling if he needed me. If I'd known I would have stayed up all night talking to him, memorizing every last brindle stripe in his fur and making sure I told him just how much his Mommy loved him. But I didn't know.
We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
When the world is much brighter
Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easierOn Valentine's Day, February 14th, 2003, Scott took Bo to the vet for his daily fluids. We had plans to possibly go out that night but we would probably have stayed in and had dinner on the floor in the basement. Scott called me at about 4:30 pm. Bo left us shortly thereafter. The first person I called was Amy, poor thing...she and Charles were out celebrating Valentine's Day and all I could say on the phone was "We lost Bo." They offered to come sit with me until Scott got home from Clinton, but I thanked them and told them no.
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter
Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter
Three years later I still miss Bo. Three years later I still hate Valentine's Day. But it doesn't hurt as bad as it did last year, and certainly not as much as it did the year before that. I still don't deal well with all the commercials on television showing happy couples exchanging jewelry and smiling children holding up hand-made cards to proud parents. The overload of candy and roses in the stores just seems hollow to me. Bo was the first greyhound we lost, and while his death did prepare me for Liz to leave us, it was a painful lesson. The fact that it happened on the day that it did I think just makes it more vivid and harder to forget.
Right nowMy heart is healing. I got a card today from my parents, a Valentine's Card, and for the first time in three years I didn't completely lose my composure reading it. I'd like to think that Bo was watching as I walked back into the house with the card in my hand, finally satisfied that his Mommy is okay.
You just wait and see how things are gonna be
I love you Bo, and I won't ever forget. I'm just learning how not to hurt so much I guess...
Maybe next year I'll buy myself a rose and a candy bar.
11 February 2006
10 February 2006
09 February 2006
Yesterday I went to visit my sister and her husband. I was supposed to be taking a friend of ours with me to visit, but he never responded to me about when/where to meet. A week, I'm telling you, is too long to go without so much as a short "I'm busy" message when you are planning a trip. The icing on that cake was checking the messages I'd sent (via message board we both belong to because he NEVER checks his email) yesterday before leaving to find all of them still sitting comfortably in my outbox. Yeesh.
So, the puppers and I struck out alone yesterday to go see Dave and Susan. Dave had surgery on his shoulder on Tuesday, and can't move it for...2 weeks I think. He's in a sling, and had a nerve block until about 5am yesterday morning. I just can't even imagine...the worst thing that has ever been done to me at the hands of a doctor would be the staph infection I had on my leg in conjunction with a spider bite...had to be "removed" which is doctor-speak for "dug out." Who knew they made post-holers that small, or that my mother could turn that many shades of nauseous green? Anyway...
So we went, and had a good time hanging out with Dave and Susan. Dave is in remarkable spirits considering the pain he is obviously in most of the time. He does get cranky, and I think that's a "man-trying-to-deal-with-pain" issue. But we chatted and got my sister set up with an EQ character of her very own to play (yes, I am spreading the addiction...fear me!)...and then turned on the Grammy awards to watch.
Now I knew I was old before this, but I think last night was just the clarifying moment that drove the point home. Susan went to Dave's church to cover a Bible study for him (though the heathen in me must admit that having someone lead a Bible study under the influence of "Elvis Presley's White M&Ms" would have been amusing...)and Dave and I were left to watch the Grammys.
Me: "Yikes on the dress choice, girly looks like she's pregnant!"
Dave: "She is pregnant."
Me: "Oh...well, her hair kinda looks like someone pulled it too tight."
Dave: Grunting noise that almost sounded like a snore, but he had just passed M&M refill time...
Me: "Now there were only two people in that entire category that I even recognized, Missy Elliot and Eminem. What does that say about me?"
Dave: "I really like Kayne West, his song..." and that's when I stopped recognizing anything he said...and then it hit me...
Me: "Kayne West, is he the one with the thing and Mike Myers and stopping the tape?"
Dave (miraculously understanding my moment of near speaking in tongues): "Yes, Nancy, the one that made the provocative comments during the Hurricane Katrina benefit."
Me: "What is with those gloves? It's not cold in there. And the sunglasses, do you really think he can see the audience with those on?"
Dave: "Man, you ARE old."
I'd like pause here to point out that Dave is only NINE MONTHS younger than I am.
Susan's Bible study coverage lead to her visiting parishioners that were in the hospital due to a car accident and then heading back home around 10pm. At 10:15pm I was standing behind her showing her how to play EQ, wide awake. At 10:30 I was in the car, sending Dave a BB message to remind him Drawn Together was on Comedy Central in case he was still wound up in the glamour and glitz and bad hairstyles and grubby jeans extravaganza known as the Grammy Awards. At 11pm I was cruising through Gwinnett County, finishing my bottle of water and thinking that I was worried about leaving late for nothing, I'd done this plenty of times in my YOUNG life, I could make it home, no sweat.
11:45pm: Stop at the JeVerson exit (that was for my Mom) and get gas at the QT, lament the emptiness of the water bottle that had kept me awake so far.
12:15am: Pass the Lavonia exit and lament lack of cash and current determination not to stop at a McDonald's in the middle of the night.
12:16am: Notice that I've just referred to the time as the middle of the night and think again how OLD I am.
12:30am: Stop at the Clemson exit and grab a chicken sandwich, fries and a soda at a Wendy's. Tell myself that Wendy's doesn't count as fast food because it's healthier than McDonald's.
1am Turn off the highway onto Pleasantburg Drive to head home.
1:15am Pull into the driveway.
2am Actually get in the bed and stare at the ceiling, two greyhounds vying for the 2 inches of space left that they and the three cats and I are not occupying.
And this morning? I officially feel like the underside of a mudflap. But I had a great time yesterday, despite the revelation that I am old...
07 February 2006
|You Are a Visionary Soul|
You are a curious person, always in a state of awareness.
Connected to all things spiritual, you are very connected to your soul.
You are wise and bright: able to reason and be reasonable.
Occasionally, you get quite depressed and have dark feelings.
You have great vision and can be very insightful.
In fact, you are often profound in a way that surprises yourself.
Visionary souls like you can be the best type of friend.
You are intuitive, understanding, sympathetic, and a good healer.
Souls you are most compatible with: Old Soul and Peacemaker Soul
06 February 2006
When we lost Bo, I joined a group called Circle of Grey which is primarily made up of greyhound owners who have lost their dogs to osteo or other cancers. There is a surprisingly (to non-greyhound people)large number of dogs that die every year due to some sort of cancer in this breed. Now Bo died from complications arising from a biopsy (that he never should have had, I curse myself to this DAY for that decision) to diagnose IBD secondary to Lymphangectasia...but a huge part of CoG is support after your pet has died, and they were a great comfort to me. When they found out I had Liz and her age/health problems, etc. they sent me one of their "Healing Blankets."
The healing blanket is a symbol to you and your dog that there are people that are supporting you, praying with/for you if that is your wish, and generally understanding what you're going through. Liz's blanket is teal with a pink/blue design and a black standing greyhound embroidered on one corner.
I love this great picture of her under her blankie, sitting up and glaring at me because I wouldn't leave her alone and kept taking pictures of her.
I had just washed her blankie along with the other dog blankets and bedding before I went to Mountain Hounds last June. She slept on it, around it, under it and sometimes just with a paw resting on it the last week of her life. When I got back from Mountain Hounds all I could do was hold her blanket and cry.
I vowed I wouldn't wash it again until it no longer smelled like her. I slept with it in the bed with me so I could just reach out and touch it while whispering a silent prayer that she was safe and happy at the bridge and she forgave me for sending her there.
I washed Liz's blanket yesterday. It was in a pile of dog blankets, having been left behind accidentally at the Anderson house and only yesterday making it up to my house. I realized what I was doing as I saw it disappear into the murky depths of the washing machine, too late to retrieve it and put it back on the bed near my pillow. "Lizzard," I said, "I love you, but it's time to wash your blanket."
Last night as I was watching the latest episode of the Book of Daniel via the internet, something said on the show jumped out at me and reminded me of Liz. The family that is the center of the story of the show lost a child to cancer, and part of last night's episode involved flashbacks to when he was sick and dying. After his death, the father is talking to Jesus (a regular occurance in this show) and asks why his son had to die. Jesus responded: "Don't ask why he had to die. Ask why he had to live." He went on to explain that we should not question why those we love are taken from us but that we should focus on what it was they had to do in the world during the time they were here. Why was it that his son was on the earth, regardless of how young he was when he died?
Liz was on the earth to take care of me through the last parts of my marriage. Liz was on the earth to remind me that I have responsibilities and things that must be done. Liz was on the earth to help me not fall into the well of self pity where I do nothing but wallow...hard to wallow when you're carrying a greyhound up and down stairs multiple times a day just so she can go outside to potty.
Liz was on the earth to remind me that every moment, every blink, every tail wag...and especially every aaaahhhhwooooof! is precious...and is what I need to hold on to now that she's gone. I can wash her blanket, breathe in the delicious warmth of clean laundry, and smile when I remember her doing the same thing everytime I handed it to her, clean and fresh from the dryer, because I have asked and understood why she had to live and stopped dwelling on why she had to die.
I'm sitting here drinking my coffee slowly, totally stalling, and refreshing the SC State Employee Weather alert page in the hopes that I won't have to make that 45 minute drive to work this morning. Alas, "No areas of SC are experiencing hazardous weather at this time." There was a day or so last month that it also said that, but we had one of the worst ice storms on record in Greenville. I just hope the dear Governor learned a lesson from that one and will act appropriately should the weather get bad this time. I understand, of course, that the capitol of SC is in Columbia which is located on the surface of the SUN...but up here in the foothills we do get some nasty weather from time to time.
I guess it's time to bite the bullet, down the last of the coffee, and get ready to go to work. Maybe just one more refresh before I do...
Edited around 10am to add: So far no snow...at least not down here in Anderson where I'm working today. The weather channel's website has gone from predicting doom and gloom (more gloom than doom, really) to advising that the temperature will be in the 50s tomorrow.
So...which season are we in again?
Allegedly we're supposed to start getting the snow...mixed with and changing to...rain...showers in some spots starting this afternoon rather than at 9am as originally suggested by said weather channel.
Maybe Columbia is sharing it's warm warm warm wealth with the rest of the state today?
Click on the title above if you have an open mind. If you watch it, and aren't moved...well, you have no soul.
03 February 2006
02 February 2006
Tonight I ask you to pass legislation to prohibit the most egregious abuses of medical research. ...Human life is a gift from our Creator -- and that gift should never be discarded, devalued or put up for sale.
-- Policy justified by religious conviction. I know I shouldn't be surprised... 2006 State of the Union Address, Jan. 31, 2006
Our state of the union is strong. I say that because America is working hard to protect ourselves; we're spreading freedom; our economy is vigorous and strong, as well. But there's some uncertainty in people's minds. People are uncertain, in spite of our strong union, because of war. And I understand that. I think it is -- my job is as much "educator-in-chief" as it is Commander-in-Chief. And during times of uncertainty it's important for me to do what I'm doing today, which is to explain the path to victory, to do the best I can to articulate my optimism about the future.
The enemy is a bunch of cold-blooded killers that have taken a great religion -- taken parts of a great religion and converted it into an ideology that is -- they perverted a great religion, and they have an ideology. We've been through ideological struggles in the past. We've have an ideological struggle against fascism and communism. And we're in that same kind of struggle now. That's what's important for the American people to understand. They have ambition. They want to spread their totalitarian empire.
[author's note: Re: Immigration/Smuggling/People crossing the border]Now, I'm against amnesty, and the reason I am is I believe if you grant amnesty to people that are here, it will cause another wave of people to want to come.
Let me put it to you in Texan: If al Qaeda is calling into the United States, we want to know.
Interestingly enough, one of the people that I work closest with in the world is the Prime Minister of Japan. Isn't that interesting? At least it is to me. My dad fought them, and now his son is working to keep the peace with the Prime Minister of the country that he went to war against. And so what happened between when he was 18 and I'm sitting here at 59? I'll tell you what happened, in between; Japan adopted a Japanese-style democracy. Freedom has the capacity to convert enemies into allies. Freedom has the capacity to lay -- (applause) -- freedom has that capacity to lay that foundation for peace for generations to come.
01 February 2006
Problem the First: I finished Chainfire today, which is the most recent in Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth series. Now, where some of the books leave you hanging a bit, wanting to make sure you get the next one on your way home from work or at least in the next few days, Chainfire has left me positively DROOLING for the next book. I feel as though Goodkind has dropped me off a literary cliff and I am plummeting down to the next installment, Phantom, scheduled for release on July 18, 2006. JULY! I have fallen completely in love with the characters in the book, and if he NEVER stopped writing about them I wouldn't complain.
Ah, to be that kind of author...
Problem the Second: I've been hit this week with a bout of insomnia. Sunday night I was up until about 2am. Monday night it was 2:30. Last night I remember checking my pager-turned-alarm-clock at 2:30 but I was already in the bed half dozing. I'm really thinking that it is PMS, and I'm charting things now like my headaches and heart palpitations. However, the insomnia creates unpleasant side effects, like falling DEAD asleep in my chair at my desk here at the hospital. Not a good plan.
Light at the end of the tunnel!
My 3pm assignment is not happening (yeah, I know it's 3:25 according to the clock here on the computer) so I'm outta here. I'll be working from the Bleckley Office tomorrow, so I won't have to get up as early. And don't forget, the Plumber is coming tomorrow, rejoice, give thanks, and sing!
Bad Ear Day
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.
I think it's going to be a bad ear day all around. Yet another headache plagues me, but this time it is most definitely sinus related. UGH.
The boys slept in the bed with me last night and I think I stayed in the same position the entire time. I am one big sore muscle.
Oh, did I mention that I managed to slam my finger (thankfully on my non dominant hand) in the sliding glass door as I was going out to collect dogs and empty food dishes this morning? I expected to look down and see something out of a cartoon, a finger swollen to ten times it's original size and throbbing...but instead I just saw a red finger with the outline of the edge of the door.
It is not going to be a good day...Tater.
(apologies to Ron White...)
#nofilter #goodhairday Yep, that hashtag in the title means what you think it means. But that's not what I want to talk about today....
Granted, I have already published all of those books in the Proud Racer and Clobberpaws series about my dogs, but this little baby here is...
#nofilter #goodhairday Yep, that hashtag in the title means what you think it means. But that's not what I want to talk about today....