"Sometimes you don't realize the weight of something you've been carrying until you feel the weight of its release."

Ugh, where to start?

I went back to work April 23rd. Everybody was welcoming and nobody asked me a damn thing, which was good. My buyer was fantastic. The HR woman did everything right. But by Tuesday, the very goddamn next day, I was riding the struggle bus. I went to work but only because I knew I had Wednesday off. I had worked that out with the HR woman....to have Wednesday's off for a month to ease me back into it. Thursday rolled around and I was the same. Struggling to force myself to go. Friday was fine because, well, it was Friday. The next week wasn't good at all. I cried Monday for no fucking reason. Started in the a.m., continued through lunch. I don't know why. Who the fuck knows why. I did and it sucked. But I worked and that was good, right? I texted a friend to help boost me the next day because I knew I would need it. He did and it worked. Wednesday was a good day. Went to my CB AA meeting and ran errands.

Finally, after 5 years of living here, replaced the light above the kitchen sink, with Dad's help of course.

I love it and my dad is a rock star. It was not an easy task to accomplish, but he did it and it works and it's awesome and I love it.

So Wednesday was good. However, I woke up Thursday and called in. Said I was nauseous. I honestly have no recollection of whether or not I actually was. Maybe I was, but probably because I made myself that way by worrying myself to it. I don't know why. Why do I have this wall I can't break through when it comes to work? When did all this shit start? Why do I allow it to continue?

I fought with myself again Friday a.m. and finally came to "Fuck it. I fucking give up. I cannot fight this goddamn battle anymore." And I called HR and quit for good. She understood. I cried all damn day.

A friend of mine who has been around me the past couple of months said to me, "Amy, you haven't been right for 2 months. Your sleep is all jacked up. You're up one minute, down the next. Something isn't right." And it hit me. How did I not see it before? Because I get in my own head and just think I'm a worthless piece of shit who should just die and release everybody in my life from having to deal with this big fucking burden that I feel I am. But having someone say to me, "You're not okay" makes me realize I'm not. You're right. I'm not. I am not okay. This isn't okay. This isn't me.

This shirt didn't work. At all.

And so I finally got with my med check lady and said as much as I hate anti-psychotics, I would take anything she thought would help. Anti-psychotics fuck up my body and make me suicidal, but if they even me out, then so be it. It's a give & take. She found something that isn't an anti-psychotic but is simply a mood stabilizer and I've been taking it since this past Tuesday. I've also been on a high dose antibiotic which is fucking up my body. My mouth tastes like....sour milk. I don't know. It's disgusting. But today was my final day of it so from here on out, I should be able to tell how the new mood stabilizer is effecting me, good or bad. It has the potential to cause blisters around the mouth and nose (mucus membranes) so that's fun! *eye roll* It's unlikely, but why can't a side effect be spontaneous orgasms or something exciting like that? *sigh*

So I'm unemployed and feel like a loser and I'm still crying sporadically for various reasons, but I don't want to end my life and I see that as an improvement. Obviously.

This new drug....I knew I'd been on it before so I went back through my old journals and found when I was on it before and how it effected me. 03-04 and I didn't write anything bad about it, so there's that. However, I was drinking pretty heavily so I'm sure it didn't work as well as it could have. Hopefully this time is better.

It was hard reading those journals. I'm glad I keep them for the above reason because I've been on numerous medications throughout the past 20 years and need those journals as references. But damn. I wish I could burn every fucking one of them. And I may.

Here's what I realized.

I am no goddamn different than I was 17 years ago. I'm the same fucked up goddamn idiot I was then. The only difference is I'm not drinking.

Now, my therapist would remind me.... I am absolutely not the same person. I've grown in those 17 years. I have a greater understanding of myself and others in my life.

But....

My journals were a lot about my relationships with men. And with Mom. And my life today is a lot of the same. Men and Mom.

I feel free to write about Mom here because I'm pretty sure she doesn't read this shit ever. It's too goddamn depressing and I don't blame her one bit.

So here goes.

What I read in the journals was a lot of "Poor me. Why doesn't my family reach out to me? Why don't they check on me? Do they care at all? Hell, I could be dead and they wouldn't know for months because nobody checks in." I still feel that way today, lol. I live a block away from my parents and I'm pretty sure it'd be a good week before someone realized, "Hm, haven't seen or heard from Amy in awhile. Maybe we should check on her." And then it'd probably be another week before they actually did and by that time, Garfield would have eaten my bloated, gassy body and my neighbors would wonder what the smell is emanating from my house. Yep. That's how I envision it happening. I'll choke on some stupid food and lie here for weeks rotting before anybody noticed.

And isn't that sad & depressing? Yep, it sure is.

But here's what.... It would be my own goddamn fault.

That's what I realized reading those journals. It was all "Why don't THEY...." Hell, why don't I? ME. The phone works both ways. I hear my own mother say that all the time about her mother. Grandma complains no one calls her. Well, guess what? You have a telephone too. So here I am, perpetuating the cycle of "poor me", "you take care of me". And I'm sick of it. I'm sick of my behavior and my attitude and my part in relationships and, and, and.

Step Four anyone? "Made a searching and fearless inventory of ourselves." This is my start.

How am I responsible? How have my actions played a part in my relationships with others and myself?

Take men, for example. This is where the rubber hits the road for me. Fearless inventory. OK, here goes.

I use men to feel a semblance of love. While, yes, I enjoy sex, honestly, I use sex to feel close to another human being. I feel unlovable. I don't feel worthy of anyone's love. And so in order for me to feel some form of "love", I use sex. And then I dismiss them. Your services are no longer needed or wanted. You're getting too close for comfort. You may actually see the real Amy so I'm gonna kick you to the curb before you can kick me to the curb. I will hurt you before you can hurt me. Or if you hurt me first, that's it. My level of trust in you is gone and I may try, but our life will never be the same. I will always hold myself back and protect my being at all costs. Because it hurts too damn much to feel and I can't drink that shit away anymore so I've found another way to protect myself. Build a goddamn wall around me of defenses.

You have no idea how hard that is for me to admit. Because when I say I use men for sex, that's all you're gonna see. You're not going to see that I honestly do enjoy sex and my libido has been raging for 2 years. You're not going to see the real work I've done trying to be in 2 loving relationships in that time. All you're going to see is "She uses men for sex. I knew it." And that's where my fear comes in. People thinking less of me or interpreting my honest assessment as something other than what I mean it to be.

Just because I have and continue to use men for sex does not mean I haven't loved and been loved in the past. I have and I do to this day love. As much as I am capable of loving anyone, I have loved Chris and Ricky. And if I'm fucking honest with myself, I fucking love Phil and I hate him for it. *eye roll* There's obviously still work to be done, but reading those journals and realizing my apparent lack of growth was a very rude awakening for this almost 43 year old woman.

Jesus.

When I did Step Four before, it was pretty easy. It's easy, because as a woman, we're good at finding our faults. We feel guilty about everything. We feel (& are made to feel by society) shame for simply being female.

But this time.... this time is different. I still want to do it. I'm actually looking forward to it, in a way. I want to change. I want growth. I do not want to come out of this the same person I was yesterday. I want more. I deserve more. We all do. However, it makes me very anxious to fearlessly look at the deep down core shit that I've clung to for decades and it scares me to think of releasing those defenses. As shitty as they are, they've brought me to this point. Good or bad. They've made me who I am today. I thank them for that. But I don't want to be this person anymore. I want to be more. I want to be better.

And I can be.

"My momma didn't raise a fool. A psycho maybe, but not a fool."

Not much has been going on and while I have a lot to say, I've been saying it to my journal.  

Today is Mother's Day and I'll bring it all around to Mom.  Watch me. 

Last Saturday, Ben and I spent 7 hours digging out, shoveling sand and laying pavers.  It. Felt. Great. 

Ben's yard

I asked Dad, when he returned, to build me a 6' table for my bedroom - one high enough to compensate for my high bed.  He succeeded!

Dad & table he built for me!

Mom gave me a quilt to cover it because I was too impatient to paint it.

See? Perfect height!  Garfield freaking loves it, which is a problem. 

 Dad & I went to a local garage sale this week and look what I found!

Kitchen island

 It's in my dining room because I don't have room along a kitchen wall, but Dad added very sturdy wheels to the base (instead of the plastic ones it came with) and made it awesome.  More awesome.  He's a genius.

And just look at my clematis growing on the North side of my front porch!!  Holy crap, it's gotten big and beautiful.

And what's all this got to do with Mom?  Because without her, none of it would be possible.  Think about it.
Happy Mother's Day, mamacita!

"Would whoever has my voodoo doll give it a rest?"

My jaw is jacked up.  For about a week now, I haven't been able to open it wide enough to take a proper bite of food, which is sort of a good thing because there's less chance of choking on a teeny tiny piece of food.  However, it took me an hour the other night to eat my dinner.  An hour. Ridiculous.  And I never realized how many different positions I put my jaw in while I'm brushing my teeth.  Who knew? Now I'm lucky to get my mouth open wide enough to stick the damn toothbrush in there.  I spent an hour the other night scouring the house trying to find my mouth guard.  I haven't had to wear that thing in years.  Certainly not since I moved to my little hamlet.  So, yah, I spent an hour looking for it in some of the weirdest places because who the hell knew where I'd packed that damn thing.  You know where I found it? My nightstand.  Because that's the most logical place for it to be, however, I was going on the assumption of illogical.

I miss yawning.



I realized this morning, after a Garfield incident, that I really am a good person....and here's how I know.  For some reason, Garfield has taken it into her head that the most comfortable spot on my oh-so-comfy queen sized bed is on my damn pillow or on my head.  WTF?  I swear...that cat...  So this morning, I was dead asleep when Garfield either jumped up into my face or walked on my head because I only woke up enough to shove her off the bed.  That didn't end so well.  She didn't really go off the bed...she just sort of fell into the crack between the mattress and the bed frame.  So the right half of her body (legs) was in the crack and the other half was just kind of flailing around.  I jumped up, turned on the light, moved the nightstand out of the way and attempted to get her out without causing any more damage....because I was sure her leg(s) was broken, she was howling so loudly.  She's fine.  But I felt so much compassion for her in that moment and every moment after (I haven't stopped apologizing and giving her treats and petting her and cuddling her) that I have to be a good person.  If I were a bad person, I'd've just let her figure out how to get out of that tricky spot her damn self because it was her own stupid fault anyway.  But it was my fault and I helped her and I will keep making it up to her....until the next time she pisses me off, anyway.



I had my unemployment interview with my former employer and IWD on Friday.  I don't hold out any hope I'm going to get unemployment, but I handled it better than I thought I would.  I did get Medicaid so at least I won't have to keep paying $400.00 a month for health insurance.  I'm searching for a job and actually have a phone interview today....with a school district.  *eye roll*  Kids.  Yuck.  They must be desperate if they think I'm worthy of a phone interview.



Mom and Dad return from the South this week.  I've been preparing their house for their return.  I've basically mowed and cleaned the house and might mow again today because holy crap, the grass is growing fast.  I'm ready to see my folks after 3.5 months (is that all?!?).  It's going to be an adjustment...for us all, I imagine.  As I was cleaning the house, I reiterated to myself that if both of my parents die at the same time, I'm just going to light their house on fire.  It'll be like a funeral pyre, but for all their stuff, because holy tchotchke, batman!  The house isn't cluttered by any means, but try dusting every decorative item and you start to think you're in an episode of Hoarders.  And yet....for each item I picked up to clean, I thought to myself, "That's cute!" so I'm no better.



I mowed my own yard last night.  What would normally take me an hour took me three because of the neighborly chit chat that apparently had to happen while I was trying to get work done.  I spoke to one neighbor who had met and talked to Chris several times and so I had to relive those moments over again.  It doesn't help to talk about it.  Sometimes it just doesn't, I've found out.  Everybody says, "I thought there was something off about him..." Hell, I don't even see that.  I just see a flawed human being, like everyone else, who probably lied to me the whole time (yet....he could've really loved me, too - jesus, I'm delusional).  Damn if I didn't love and still love that stupid, stupid man.  Fucker.  See?  Better not to even talk about it.



I can't end on that note, so I'll peak your interest in a project I worked on the last few weeks for Mom & Dad's imminent return.  It's finished and as soon as they return home and receive it, I'll post a picture of it.  It was fun to do and fairly simple, just a long process. I love being semi-creative.

"I want to thank everyone who brings healthy treats to a Christmas party. Those extra 5 minutes in a nursing home are sure to be heavenly." -Maxine

I don't really know what to write about but it's Monday and while my dinner is ready to eat, I'm not yet hungry so it can simmer in the slow cooker for awhile longer while I bore you to death with my ramblings....

Today was the office Christmas party.  I don't know. To me, an office party should be about all of us getting together, eating, having fun, not talking about work....it should be a time for all of us to relax and get to know each other outside of the office.  It should be fun.  This was.....interesting.  It was nice. The food was good (catered in) but the atmosphere was stiff (it was held at a very nice attorney's house) and awkward.  But it got me away from the office for 2 hours so there's that.

It snowed like a mofo this morning but the forecaster's the night before said, "Oh it'll all be rain. Nothing will stick to the roads because they're so warm."  What a bunch of asshats!  Holy moley.  I drove out to the highway, saw that it was a flippin' mess and turned right back around....to let Dad drive me to work, lol.  My first option couldn't because school was cancelled, like everything should have been, so Dad offered and I accepted.

It. Was. Treacherous.

I am so glad Dad was driving, but even so....I was anxious, tense, nauseated...I couldn't hardly watch the road but I had to for fear we'd spin out or someone would hit us and I wouldn't see it coming. Apparently, I want to see tragedy when it happens.  Dad's an expert driver, though, and while it was incredibly, ridiculously difficult (thank you Cass County for doing such a superb job plowing the highway this morning....NOT!) he made it just fine.  And as soon as we pulled into town, we heard on the radio the highway we'd just driven in on was closed.  No shit Sherlock!  Because your damn plow trucks haven't even made one pass yet this morning!  Geesch. Idiots.  Poor Dad was stuck at McDonald's for a bit drinking his coffee until the road re-opened.  Poor guy.

But poor me, too, because being car-less meant 1. I wasn't comfortable sneaking outside on my break to smoke a cigarette in the parking lot in full view for all to see and 2. I had to snag a ride to the office Christmas party (so, again, no smoking).  It's truly amazing I didn't kill anybody today.  I wonder if they all know how close each of them came to grim death....

I'm surprised at how o.k. I was without a cigarette for hours.  I snuck one at around 11:00 but after that, until 5:00PM, nothing.  Amazing.  I, of course, lit up immediately after getting into Dad's car for the ride home, which was much, much smoother.

All in all, it was a good day at work and I'm glad Dad made the treacherous drive to get me there! It's such a nice place to work when everyone is in a good mood (with the exception of one...there's always one, isn't there?)


I'm getting too cold to sit and type at the computer any more tonight, but if I'm not too worn out tomorrow, there's more to come.  'Cause this shit was boring as hell.....even to write!

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!

I couldn't take a picture from the sidewalk because my steps & sidewalk are a sheet of ice, but I'm sure it looks cute! Thanks Dad!

Yesterday's impromptu Thanksgiving was good, though....can I call it good when I lost at Spoons to my brother & his g'friend? I think not. So it was horrible! It was a horrible day! JK....

We had plenty of food- I slow-cooked a pork butt roast (is it really pork BUTT?), Mom made her O.M.G.-so-delicious-sweet-potatoes and a pumpkin pie and Chex-mix to snack on while we played cards. Brother & his g'friend brought a made-with-love Edwards pie (so.damn.good.).  And a long winter's nap to follow. I listened to ice pinging my windowpanes all night and fretted over the flickering lights and while we did lose cable service of local news channels (boy, that change-over to digital was a brilliant move...BRILLIANT!), I did not lose total power. 

And Garfield's a traitor:

Garfield & Mom

All you need to win Garfield's love is an electric blanket.  I guess it's a bit cold in my house.  I like it that way! She just needs to acclimate.

I'm not going anywhere today - the morning has been spent decorating the pallet-tree and doing laundry nonstop but from here on out, I'm under the electric blanket, cuddling with Garfield, and waiting for Iowa to beat Nebraska this afternoon.  What a perfect day!

Did I say I love winter? *sigh*

I do. I still do. Even though winter has killed my Thanksgiving, I still love it. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. There won't be any funny posts about the hilarious goings-on at my regular family Thanksgiving because of stupid winter storm Cara. What a bitch.

Today was another incredibly busy day.  I didn't even get a chance to eat lunch.  I barely took a break (except I do the mail run in the morning and afternoon, so I'm ensured at least 2 cigarettes a day so I didn't break anybody's neck today due to lack of nicotine...) And even as busy as the day was, it was pleasant! There were only 3 of us there today and nobody was bitchy, whiny, yelling, cranky, grumbly, pick your shitty-attitude-adjective. It was so nice!  I would much rather be as busy as I was today rather than sitting there twiddling my thumbs, but I am damn happy I get the next 4 days off.

Since T'giving was ruined and I didn't eat lunch today, I stopped at Taco Bell and loaded up on my favorite meal (A # 6 please with a side of pintos & cheese, please!).  I figure if I can't pig out on mashed potatoes, stuffing, turkey, ham, and all the other glorious carb-loaded-foods that come with T'giving, I'm going to do it tonight, dammit!  Bliss.  My parents and brother/girlfriend might come over tomorrow to eat around 11 (I have a 4lb pork roast in my freezer...speaking of which, thaw-time!), but it won't be the same as being in M'town, listening to all their funny stories, playing Spoons or whatever other game we have on hand, laughing so much that my face hurts by the time we leave....I'll miss it, but it's ok.  I'd rather be in my nice warm home than in a ditch freezing my ass off.

A friend of mine is getting a divorce.  He & I were friends in high school and for awhile after but he got hitched and out of respect (or some such bullshit) for his wife, I stepped away from our friendship.  Single woman. Good friends with a man. Jealous wife. Even though I had no intention of ever starting anything with my friend, I understood where she was coming from.  I get it. Single women are threatening when you're insecure in yourself and your marriage.  Understandable.  But now he's getting a divorce so I texted him last night and said, "Sorry to hear about your marriage. I'm sure it sucks.  But do you remember a pact we had wherein if I wasn't married @ 40, we'd get hitched? Guess who's single & 40? ME!"  And then I blathered on about how I was kidding, who'd want to get married, Blech!  We chatted for a bit via text and then I told him to leave me the fuck alone so I could get my beauty sleep, lol.  It'll be nice to have my friend back in my life. Whoo boy, we had so much fun together.  It'll be weird to have a friendship with him sober, but that's what it's going to be. He'll just have to get used to this new Me.

And on another happy note....

They say Jesus was a carpenter. I'm not sure he even existed, but I know my Dad does and he is!

Dad's been a busy little beaver!  He got a bunch of pallets from a guy in town and has been building trees!  I just forwarded pictures of the 3 he did for his house from my phone to my email so hopefully that works and I can post them because they're beautiful! Perfect! So cute!  And look at this one! Just for little 'ol me!  It doesn't even need paint, but you know me and paint...I just can't help myself.  And now since I'll have most of tomorrow free, listening to the ice pinging my windows and probably losing power, I can spend that free time painting!

*sigh* I'm going to miss Thanksgiving.

No pictures have arrived to my email yet....check back for an update.

Good Grief!

The next time I think it's a good idea to paint something....anything....remind me I'm not young anymore. Everything will hurt. Everything does hurt. Ugh!

Remember I volunteered Dad & myself to make the Snoopy doghouse and Lucy's "psychiatric help" stand for the library's Christmas theme?

Here's what we started out with:

Two big boxes from the local HVAC company (thanks to Affordable!). Here's what Dad helped to create:

Plus Lucy's "stand" (no pic)

And after I worked my magic:

Put the workbench to good use last night painting this sign!

I made "IN" & "OUT" signs to thumbtack on. 

LOL, you can tell my basement is totally covered in red. I used a lot of paint!

Honestly, I can't believe how good they look in these pictures! I'm incredible! :) Are all the words spelled correctly, because "PSYCHIATRIC" just doesn't look right? You know how when you stare at a word so long, it starts to look wrong. "When" and I have a lot of issues. It just never seems right...and now I can add "psychiatric" to the list of "I'm crazy"....

Let's see - that's 4 coats of paint for every item, plus a fat-lot-of duct tape because I must have gotten a dud roll of duct tape. It kept coming undone! Dad suggested placing a dab of glue under the loose tape so that's what I did...plus I bought a roll of red duct tape for the doghouse. That sucker's not falling apart (yeah, right...)! For the words I found the Peanuts font on-line, downloaded it to my computer and created the signage. I then taped it into place and traced the letters (hard!) which left indentations. Then I just outlined and filled in the words with paint on-hand. 

I'm going to do another coat of paint for the words but the hard part's done - tracing. My hand is in the shape of a turkey claw and I have a callous on my middle finger. I must hold my pencil weird. I'll be ecstatic when these bastards are done, lol. 

I start the new job tomorrow! I keep realizing all these silly things...I no longer have to look for a job! I don't have to search Iowa Jobs or the local newspapers or the Shopper for ads! What a relief! And over the last year (& longer), every time I'd see a preview for a new television show that I wanted to watch, e.g. "The Walking Dead, October 12th", I'd think to myself, "I'm going to have a job by then!". Do you know how many new shows have come on t.v. that I've thought that about? Numerous. Too many to count. Ah! But now! Now I do have a job! I can't tell you how excited, nervous, anxious, scared-to-death I am. I just want to remain healthy and happy and not be walloped by a bout of anxiety or depression or anything else. I hope my brain has only good things in store for me! I'm ready....I'm ready to live!

I'm sure there's more to write about, but seriously....I need to rest my hands & fingers. It'd be a bad impression to start a new job to transcribe and not be able to move my fingers...

"I knew when I met you an adventure was going to happen." -A.A. Milne

All week, I've been waking up early. It's like going back to school after summer break. I have to get back into the groove of things. Waking up early isn't all that hard for me to do....it's staying awake all. day. long that's difficult. I haven't made it through one day, yet, nap-free. *SigH* I'm really going to miss naps. Maybe today's the day because.....

Dad's installing a new kitchen faucet for me. My water pressure in the kitchen has always been crap, but in the last 3 weeks, it's gotten significantly worse. I mean, if I have the hot water running and turn the cold water on, too, you'd think the water pressure would increase somewhat. Nope. Not mine. Stays the same...which is a little more than a trickle at this point.

Little brother who's becoming a plumber (crack included) has looked at everything and suggested trying a new faucet first to see if that fixes the problem. He said, "You can return a faucet...you can't return copper..." So we got a new faucet, which I am so totally excited about! My old faucet was a two-handle plain jane and with my reverse osmosis faucet on the sink, there was no room for the sprayer. Try rinsing a sink out without a sprayer and/or water pressure. You can't. That's why I have a cup in my dish-drainer...to rinse my sink.

But now! Oh my - now! We bought a faucet that is a sprayer!

Not installed...it's just resting there. 

But, you know, nothing's ever easy so I'll be quite amazed if Dad gets it installed. I haven't heard any cussing, yet, but I have heard a lot of grumbling and talking to himself. Now I know why Mom has selective hearing. 

I attended my last Wednesday morning AA meeting in CB today. I wasn't expecting to see Larry and he wasn't there....at first. He showed up towards the end of the meeting, being chauffeured by his wife & son, bearing doughnuts! It's hard to see such a big bear of a man who was healthy not-so-long ago, failing. He talks, but a person has a hard time understanding what he's saying because he slurs his words pretty bad. His equilibrium is way off so he fell down 6 stairs and landed on his face so he looks beat up. He can't drive, thus the chauffeurs, though he was bound and determined to build his grandchildren a treehouse so he stole his own truck, drove it up a hill to a tree and then it rolled back down the hill. It didn't deter him. Others had to wear him out and then carried him inside to bed. 

Update: I. AM. AMAZED! Good water pressure AND a sprayer! I'm in heaven! 

Installed! Beautiful!

OK, back to Larry. Today was probably the last time I'll see him before his funeral and we all know seeing someone at their funeral isn't properly "seeing" them. It's hard. It's sad. I'm a little bit scared. It all just sucks.

And speaking of sucks....nobody at the meeting feels like they have the right to bitch about any problem they have in their lives....and trust me, we've all got shit.  They all say, "Look at what Larry's going through. I have no right to complain..." So today I said to one of the guys who constantly says this, "I had someone tell me this when I was a teenager and I was saying the same thing...'Look at so&so; I have no right to bitch' and this person said to me, 'But this is your worst. Whatever you're going through, it's yours. It might be the worst thing you ever have to deal with. That's the worst thing they'll ever have to deal with. It's your shit.'" Basically, it's good to keep things in perspective, but don't think what you're going through is somehow less-than what someone else is going through. Trust me, I get how awful this is. It's horrible. It's unfair. It out-right sucks. And I feel for Larry and his whole family and extended AA family. It's going to hit all of us very, very hard. I can't imagine a world without Larry. 

When it got to my turn to speak, I talked about how easily I could go down a deep, dark hole and wallow there for the rest of my life. I talked about how, every damn night, my thoughts go down a bunny trail and end up somewhere horrible...somewhere that makes me feel horrible. Inevitably, I wind up at the time when my brother asked me to take him to some car dealers and somehow it ended up being about my piece of shit car. I made it about me. I felt awful about it then, I felt awful about it a year or two ago when I called my brother up and apologized (again) profusely and he said, "What are you talking about? I don't even remember..." and yet...and yet...it still bothers me. I feel like it reflects my character and that reflection is butt-ugly. 

Then, on the way to the meeting, I somehow got to thinking about the time when I was a child (10,11, 12?) and Mom and I were in the city, going to the Mall. It was always a big deal to do that. Well, it had rained or was raining and I either walked through a puddle or a car drove through a puddle and my jeans got all wet and dirty. I pitched a fit because I was embarrassed. I pitched a fit. I remember Mom ran into someone from the hometown and I was probably crying and acting like a shit and Mom had to buy me new jeans to shut me up. I was a horrible child. Horrible! And I think back on that and regret it. Immensely. I didn't need new jeans. I didn't. I could have survived a day of embarrassment with wet, dirty jeans. I did not need new ones. I'm sure it was just easier for Mom to give me what I wanted to put me in a not-so-irritating mood. 

See how easy it would be to dwell on this stupid ass shit and let it bring me down? Easy-peasy. 

Then the next guy spoke at the meeting and he said something that really helped me. He talked about himself and how he's essentially the same as I am and what his sponsor said to him...."Are you the same person now you were then?" Well, no. No, I'm not. Oh gods, I hope I'm not. "Look at all the hard work you've put in to become a better person. That counts for something..." I'm going to remember that tonight when I'm trying to fall asleep and I inevitably think about some random thing that eventually takes me to me being a piece of shit. I am not now the person I was then. 

What I do when I find myself thinking about stupid, random, bad shit is to picture a big red STOP sign and then force myself to think about something else. What am I doing tomorrow? Focus. On. That. Focus on anything else. Anything!  I can do that when I'm mentally healthy. I'm not capable of doing that when I'm not.

Am I anxious about starting my new job? Yes, a bit. Not overwhelmingly-so. Just a bit. I'm mostly excited...but there's a small voice in the back of my head that wants to take me down a dark path...."Hope you don't get anxious, then depressed, then suicidal...." "Hope you don't wind up the same place you always do...in a hospital..." "Hope you can figure out how to not be scared shitless when driving in the snow!" *Sigh* I wear myself out. Sit down and shut up, little voice!

I baked a blueberry pie yesterday. Guess what I'm going to go do....

“Hide not your talents, they for use were made, What's a sundial in the shade?” ― Benjamin Franklin

Ahhhhhhhhh

I can breathe again!

Well, not in the literal sense. I still can't breathe. In fact, I'm breathing through my mouth right now, slack-jawed, probably have drool dripping down my chin. So, no, literally, I cannot breathe...

But figuratively! Yes! I can breathe! What.A.Relief!

I applied for this job September 4th. I'd seen the ad in our weekly Shopper. It was for Cambridge Law Firm in Atl as a secretary with legal assistant/paralegal experience preferred. I didn't have the preferred experience, but come on, the criminal justice degree has to count for something, right?

I didn't hold out much hope. In fact, I did little to prepare for the first interview. I did get my interview binder in order. Made sure I had my most recent resume in there along with the cover letter. I even washed my interview attire the day before to make sure nothing reeked of smoke. I didn't smoke on the way to the interview. But I didn't hold out much hope.

Obviously. Remember my post one-reason-that-cats-are-happier-....? I was sure I hadn't gotten the job and awaited a rejection letter in the mail. Then I got the phone call for a second interview and boy, did I ever prepare for that one. I washed all my clothes again. I googled "How to Sell Yourself" because I was pretty sure I did a piss-poor job of that the first time around. I googled "second interview questions". I printed them out. I answered all of them. I memorized "Why I'm Great!" I made a "Kick.Some.Ass." CD to listen to on the way there. I printed off motivational sayings to remind me...I.Am.Great.

They didn't really ask me any questions. But I was confident, lol!

They wanted me to clarify some things and then had me transcribe a letter via dictaphone. I was a little nervous as it had been probably 10 years since I'd used one and I did have a second of "how do I stop this thing so I can finish a sentence?" but figured it out easily enough. Done and done. I practically begged the attorney I handed my finished product to to "please please keep me in mind for this job...I could do that all day!" She laughed and said they "were very impressed with my credentials". Which to me means, "you're overqualified and we think you're going to be bored so you don't have a shot in hell..."

I left feeling ok. Not great, but ok. And then I started to imagine getting the job and sharing the news and finally not feeling like a drain on society....I emailed my Aunt Hope I-don't-know how many times asking her to help me prepare for the inevitable...crushing disappointment. In fact, one hour before I got the call, I'd just emailed her saying, "If they don't call tonight...I didn't get it...I'm driving myself insane..." and probably her, too.

And then my cell phone voicemail beeped and I scrambled to find a spot in my house where I could get service (I may have to leave TracFone) and I anxiously listened to her message saying "We've finished our interviews. We had a lot of qualified applicants, blah, blah, blah (seriously, I thought this was a pity call at first) and we'd like to offer you the job..." And then I have no idea what she said because I ran to find their phone number and call her back ASAP because it was almost 5 o'clock. The first words out of my mouth were, "Did you really offer me the job?!?" She's probably regretting her decision.

She said...I don't know what. I was the most qualified. The most enthusiastic. I presented myself so well. My credentials were excellent.

Finally! Finally! Finally! I'm good enough!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I start in two weeks (Oct. 20th). Hours are M & T 8-5, W 7:30-5, R 8-5 and F 8-4:30. I'm pretty sure I get an hour lunch and they made it a point to say that they give employees 15 minutes every 4 hours for a break. I get insurance! I think they pay 100% because I remember saying what a big deal that was. The one attorney (there are 3) laughed and thanked me because a lot of people don't understand how much a company pays for insurance for their employees. I do. I get it. I'll never take it for granted again. There's life insurance, 401(k) (vested after 1 year). Vacation, sick, PTO. I don't know what else.

I'd be brimming with excitement if I didn't feel like such shit.

On the other hand...it was pretty darn exciting telling Mom & Dad. I called over to the house, calmly, to make sure they were both home. I said to Dad, "I need to talk to both of you. I'll be over..." almost glumly. I didn't want to ruin the surprise! So I get over there and Dad's on the phone...so wait, wait, wait and then they both looked at me anxiously like, "What hot mess is she in now?" Dad said to Mom to turn the t.v. off or down and then I just blurted it out. I am not subtle. I GOT A JOB! I think Dad may have even teared up and Mom asked, "The real question is...do you have to deal with people?" to which I laughed and said, "No! Isn't it perfect?!?" LOL. It was a moment I won't forget.

I have the best parents in the world. Over these last two years, they've supported me financially, emotionally...keeping me busy, helping me out...but most importantly, not pressuring me. No pressure. Not once did they say "NO" to my request for money. Not once did they say "We're not paying that..." Not once. And especially this past year...No "why don't you apply for that job?" or "are you even applying for jobs?" Nothing. They've just been unconditionally supportive of me. You can't find that anywhere else. There's really no place like home.

So.Damn.Happy.

I don't know of many famous carpenters....but my Dad, while not famous, is certainly the greatest (& let's face it, should be famous)!

I. Am. Speechless!

Bench made out of pallet boards (& some leftover pieces of wood)!

The infamous carpenter!

I'm not really speechless. If I were, this wouldn't be much of a blog now, would it? But I'm stunned! I'm amazed! I'm thrilled! I'm ecstatic! I am so grateful!

I asked Dad not too long ago if he could build me something like this:

MyLove2Create

I want it for my living room - to sit under my front window, right next to the front door....so I have a place to put shoes and gloves and hats and a place to sit to put on shoes, etc, etc, etc. I have no entryway. I want to create one. This is how I (we) start.

We had two decent pallets from when the fencing materials were delivered so yesterday he took them home and tore them apart, which isn't all that easy to do, but my dad can do anything and he did. And then today he started making the bench. 

Let's look at it again:

How awesome is this???? It's not completed, yet. Some boards still need to be cut & placed on the shelf below and some pieces still need to be screwed in...then sanding, staining?, painting?...but look at it! Isn't it beautiful??? I'm in awe. 

Amazing, AmAzInG, AMAZING!

I'm a sucker for anything with hooks.

There's Captain Hook. Who doesn't love him? There are fish hooks. Fish, yummmmm. There are right hooks used to down your opponents. Who doesn't want that?

And then there are these hooks:

Vertical coat-rack Dad made for me out of supplies on hand! The best!

Dad installed this for me weeks ago and it is a life-saver! 

Life is so much easier with hooks.

I hope I don't trip over Garfield & fall into my new coat-rack and get hooked to death like in some horror movie. That'd not be a fun way to die.

I love my hooks!

"You know my hips don't lie..." - Shakira

My hips lie. They lie their ass off. "Go ahead! You can do it! Climb those stairs! Take that walk! Climb up & down a step stool all morning! You'll! Be! Fine!"

Liars.

Mom, Dad & I did this:

this morning. Two coats of semi-transparent white stain on one side took from 8:15-ish to 1:00pm. Ugh! My right hand doesn't want to work properly. I won't be using it to cut up any food for awhile. Sandwiches it is! And my hips...oh, my hips. Son of a bitch, it sucks getting old! My friend Shannon's 40th birthday is today. I took her cookies yesterday and she gave me....."Two Old Goats" arthritis & fibromyalgia lotion. I'm holding out hope it does something...anything. Tylenol doesn't seem to be helping. Oh well. I don't need my hips, do I? 

I slept so hard this afternoon, I had a bit of an issue getting one ear plug out of my ear:

I pulled the plug out and noticed I was still a bit hearing-deficient in the ear and I realized the top part of the plug had stayed in my ear! Can you imagine if it had gotten stuck in there? I'd be walking around with a bright orange thing in my ear. Eh, would probably make my life better to be hard of hearing. 

Big thank you to these two who are older than me in years but younger than me in heart!

Mom

Dad

"My contractor could have his own TV show. It would be called "Extreme Home Screw-over"." -Maxine

Before I get to the excitement of today, I dyed my hair last night. Remember I said my scalp was white and my hair was dark (red) so it just highlighted my scalp even more? Well, I decided to try a light brown. What a boring color for me. I feel so ordinary with brown. But here ya go.

Before:

Look at all that red on top and gray/brown on the sides! Yikes!

Mostly gray/brown...

Ummm, I'm still seeing a lot of red but at least the sides are brown. Right? 

OK, yeah, this side is better...

Boooooring....but at least the gray is gone!

I don't know what's going on with my hair color, but who cares because....Now on to the excitement of today!!!!

Before:

Ugh - ugly grayish door. Broken handle and crappy roll-away screen.

And now!!!!!

Freakin' beautiful!!!

And this!!!

Front door - just as beautiful!!

And don't forget this!!!!

Old front door on "back" garage door that faces North and is in the new fenced-in area. 

The wood door shown directly above gets beat to shit every rainstorm, hailstorm and snowstorm. Rain comes into the garage when the wind is blowing just right....but not anymore!

I cannot tell you how much of a difference all of these doors are going to make. I mean, those roll-away screens aren't worth shit. Don't buy them. What pieces of crap. Mine wouldn't "roll away" so easy and they were both torn along the sides and the screen "rolled away" to the very top so I had to stand on my tip-toes to close it...*sigh* Such a pain in the ass! And my side door's handle was busted so it would stick and make you think the door was locked when it wasn't...I can't tell you how many times I'd try to come back inside and have a momentary heart-attack when the latch wouldn't move. 

But now....*sigh* now....I just want to sit outside and stare at my new doors. Is that weird? That's weird, right? Yeah. It's weird. But I don't care!

Doesn't it look like two professionals hung all these doors? I think so. So proud of my Dad & me! And I think I only dropped the F-bomb once...ok, maybe twice or three or four times when we hung the first hinge-rail on the wrong side of the door (totally my fault) but after that, everything went smooth as glass! My dad's a G.O.A.T. (greatest of all time)!!!! 

Professional door-hanger

Geez, he looks like my younger brother!

Chillaxin'

THANKS DAD (& Mom, because we all know none of this is possible without her)! 

"The shorter the hair the harder they stare."

Only because they're trying to figure out if I'm a man or a woman, lol! The one & only reason I'm thankful I've got big knockers.

I'm one step closer in my quest to having no hair at all!

God, I need a new face. Is that what I really look like because that isn't what I see when I look in a mirror! *sigh* well, it is what it is. But I do love the hair cut!  I went in with this picture:

I look nowhere near as good as this lady but I got what I wanted - I was sick & tired of the sides poofing out and I couldn't wear sunglasses because whenever I did, they'd stick the side-hair out even further. Was. Driving. Me. Nuts. Problem solved! No hair!

You can see my scalp. I have darkish hair. I have a white scalp. It doesn't bode well. I asked my hairdresser if I should just go ahead and dye my hair gray. She looked at me like I was crazy. "No" was her stern answer.

I'm really not trying to look like Mom, but if I was as good looking as she is, I don't think I'd have any problem shaving my head!

I look like a thug...but look at that lady next to me...so pretty!