All this over saggy lettuce

I just went to let Gus potty and desperately needed lunch, but did not want to spend $6 on a burger that I would immediately regret eating. I remembered Pollo and actually bought a salad, which is what I usually get there. For the second time in at least 2 years, I got some saggy lettuce.

Not all, mind you, or even most. Not even a handful. I picked it out and happily ate my salad, but it reminded me of one of the early Pollo days here. My coworkers and I often get Pollo because it is delicious and appears to be real food and somewhat healthy... er. We get Pollo often enough to have favorites, earn points, and be able to order for each other. In all that time, I've only seen one other saggy lettuce experience.

What killed me was the response. Now, I have not always reacted well to fast food disappointments. My personal worst was discovering they heard rice instead of fries after leaving the drive through. I threw the rice, then had an alarmed conversation with myself. I know I have shared that before, but it still entertains and appalls me.

When we got some saggy lettuce in our salads two years ago, we complained a little, which was fine. It was on our next trip when two people specifically requested fresh lettuce that I had a meerkat response. Are you kidding? Are... you kidding?!

Come on now. Are they going to stop mid-handful and say oh no, they want the GOOD lettuce? Go get the GOOD lettuce, Mike.

And I mean, ok- if the entire salad was see-through, you'd have an argument, but that would constitute a lettuce emergency and it likely would never make it to the counter. My boss once requested so many special requests on one cup of coffee that she referred to herself as an entitled old biddy. I found that hilarious and now keep EOB as a handy acronym in these circumstances. Can you imagine working in a fast food restaurant and someone asks for the FRESH lettuce? I can just feel their nostrils slightly flaring.

It's a passive aggressive thing, really- you know they don't have a separate lettuce bucket. You just want them to know they fucked up last time and you'll have your critical eye on things. There are people that I don't like to go to restaurants with because they do this shit. I would like to tell them this, but I'm not sure how. Maybe I can give them the same conversational yet slightly shitty attitude they give the wait staff. One friend got shitty with a fast food employee recently, and I called it out in front of the employee and my friend was shamed into an apology.

I think was surprises me is that people seem to expect perfection anywhere they go. Fast food is a great illustration of that, because it's cheap food quickly- there's a tradeoff! Do you expect to sacrifice nothing? Even at a nicer or nice restaurant, do you expect perfection? Your life must be really awful. I try to think about this when I'm on hold to talk to someone whose job it is to obstruct my mission. Sometimes it feels like that's their job, anyway. It doesn't always work, but customer service jobs suck because we are ALL assholes at one point or another.

My coworker teaches Dr. Martin Luther King's four steps to nonviolent protest. One is self-purification, which involves cleansing yourself of emotions so you can proceed with honest and peaceful intentions. Or at least, that's my current understanding of it. If you are fired up, it's not the right time to address the situation. I didn't like the rage I felt over the rice. I don't like the way I get shitty with people sometimes and I don't like being in the company of people who do it.

The trouble is figuring out how to address it in others and being receptive to signs that indicate you are being a jerk. If I were capable of light humor in the moment, I'd love that. But one thing I've been seeing lately is that when I have the urge to pull away from someone, the answer is usually to pull them closer instead. Maybe seeing my discomfort or witnessing theirs will change our behavior.

Good day off

I had a pretty nice day yesterday. I actually bought tires the night before, which caused my expression in that picture, but I'm super proud that I did it on my own. Things were pretty tight for a while, but I've been working down the debt wrangling my finances and I am finally self-sufficient. This week it was tires. Last week it was brakes and fixing the rotors and some other car stuff. Plus Christmas. I'd better win the money from the credit union for using my credit card this month. But yeah, researched and purchased brand new tires and it was a good kind of painful. This is the weirdest feeling to be grateful for.

I slept in on my day off- slept in a lot. I took Gus for a long walk and we came across a woman walking her dog, so we let them say hi and she asked if I had a sweater for him. That's been a challenge, since his body is long and tiny, but his chest is huge. She said she had some that were too small for her dog and went home to get them. She handed me a whole pile, and Gus and I- well, I had fun dressing him up. He does need a coat; it's been so cold outside. I think we may have one and it looks warm.

I had to run to meet A&N for lunch, but first I had to create an obstacle course too difficult for Gus to get to the catbox. I was proud of this innovative solution until I realized that nobody wants cat litter scattered across the table. Back to the drawing board, but I am excited about incorporating the corral. He fights too much to stay in it, so I'm either going to use it for the catbox or the trash. It might not keep him in, but it might keep him out! This little turkey is a tank.

So we went to see Star Wars, which might get me in trouble. My "man friend," as Jeffrey likes to call him, is a big Star Wars fan, and was horrified that I am only meh about this cultural phenomenon. I infamously slept through Rogue 1 (One?), so I didn't think it would be a big deal to go without him. I could easily go again and care about as much. And seriously, this guy doesn't have time to go to the movies! But... I actually liked the movie. ... ... .........

So now I feel bad, but maybe it's a good thing, because when he gets back, if it's still in theaters, or even at the second run place, I will make plans to get him there, whereas before I would have just meh'd past it. That was one sentence, guys.

So I got home and made myself some dinner and started working on a gift. I will show you once it's done. I haven't done this in a long time, and it was fun to just sit and crank it out. I think that's how I need to do projects. This is why I rarely send letters, Camille. I keep trying to come back to them like you do, because I really like that they span weeks and give a nice picture of what's going on. Instead, I have 75 started letters, because I can never find the last one. Just sit down and do it- that should be my non-athletic slogan.

Shoulding all over myself

How can I withstand my disappointment?

I got an email from one of my saved searches about this job- got the email on Friday. I did not spend any time this weekend on preparing, of course, but I meant to. Oh, did I mean to. But I had so much on my list and it all seemed so important and I did have a wonderful weekend. Now when I tell you about it, you'll have one eyebrow cocked, but I seriously have to wonder about fate sometimes. There's this job that might materialize at work in my department, but it's still not editing, great as it would be. This was a straight shot- a job with editor in the title. Not that I qualified, but I was going to throw my hat in anyway, because it's not up to me to decide if I'm qualified.

It was the time difference that got me. I was finally ready to apply. I had just uploaded my new resume, and the job was gone- it was midnight on the east coast. Such a dumb mistake that I know and warn others about. It took me until 8 to find my password. I couldn't log in at work because it was here, but when I got home, I couldn't find it. I got so stressed, I just decided to start cleaning, knowing I'd come across it. As soon as I did, I went to finish updating my resume. Ok, I did do some of this ahead of time. I was ready in just over an hour, and just barely missed.

But why couldn't I find my password? The reset would go to work, and I knew it was here. It took laundry and easing off the search for me to spy the place where I suddenly remembered putting it. Did I not want to apply? Am I afraid to leave the VA? Do I really want a commute that far? Was this just procrastination?

I actually teach people about USA Jobs, and I tell them it's usually the second or third job that you get- I've seen it happen so often. You flail on the first one- there are all the documents to find and sign and scan and upload. You have to update your resume and write a cover letter and reset your password and learn how to use the website again. It's disappointing to miss, and I tried for the writer editor job a couple months ago. I got an interview, and they picked someone else... I have legitimate reasons to be bitter, but they just make me sound bitter. In truth, I'm kind of glad, because they don't know what kind of program they have, and they're only using it as some kind of weird transcription service, so have at it. I'm going to find an editing job. Clearly not this one either, but some kind of editing job.

Yeah, yeah, I'm ready for the next one. And it will get easier and it will take less time. The last one took me WEEKS. This time, I was ready to go in about 3 days. That's some serious improvement, and I'll take it. I'll also take the earlier bedtime and the sleep I missed last night. I'll take the dinner with friends here tomorrow night and the obligation to clean up quickly. I'll take the embarrassing reminder about preparation and procrastination as lightly as I can and try not to flog myself with them too much. I'll take a nice, relaxing Christmas and the email I got today updating me on the new potential job in my department. It had two ifs, and in response, this person who has no stake in the game whatsoever- who just asked the boss on my behalf- told me to hang in there.

I think they all see that I am restless. I'm getting questions and long looks. They are eyeballing me as I am eyeballing the door. I keep thinking about the Little Prince, and how there are no destination screens on the comets. Just put out your fucking net, already!

Alright. So whether it was not meant to be or just a snafu, it's done with now, and my resume is a lot more honed to editing. If that's the outcome, who cares what the purpose was.

Bah.

Picture Pages, part 237

Sarah has forbidden me to look at jackets at thrift stores since I have so many, but they are so cool!

I got a car seat for Gus Gus and though it took me almost a month, I finally hooked it up in the car. I suddenly understood why new parents go to the fire department to get help installing car seats for babies. I did get 70's orange, but only because the saner colors were more expensive. I bought this because Gus doesn't like being in the car, but seems less stressed about it when he can see out the window. Also because he is only 8 pounds, rather aerodynamic, and sassy enough to have a car seat.

The other day I came home to find one of Mini's claws stuck in Gus' forehead, so I always like, encourage, and photograph moments like this.

Here is Jenny with Jenny, a 2 pound sweetheart recovering from parvo.

This 2000 piece puzzle was fun to do because it had so many different things going on. It was always possible to find a new section to work on, and I also liked how cozy and fun it looked. It's called Grandma's Craft Shed. I can relate to a woman who is thoroughly organized, yet can't finish or put anything away.

Soooo... things are going well with my sweetie.

Behold, shiny things to distract you! Look at that bowl! How about that wrapping paper! Do you like the warm hat I found for tennis? And check out that weird, geometric purple going out purse! It moves all folded too. So fun.

It is indeed time to clarify and cultivate my notion of home. What is going on here? How can I summarize the past few months for you? We'll see what I can come up with. I am not moving yet- how's that?

Breakfast bunch

I am enjoying boyfriendland. Boyfriend happened to find the movie left behind in his rental car on the same night I already had Ed Wood queued up. "Should we watch that instead?" he asked.

Hell no. Meatballs go with meatballs! We ate dinner, then both fell asleep. 💜

Rainy day drive through lunch at In-N-Out with Sarah

Mini's favorite new toy

Mini's favorite new hangout

I took Ant shopping today for his birthday and Christmas. He worked so much around this time last year that I didn't see him until January, so I wanted to make sure he got some stuff he needed, and that it would be stuff he wanted. His great grandma is also sending some money for him, so we found him some shoes, a warm coat, gloves he could work in, a hat, three shirts, a pair of pants, a really cool pair of socks, and a skateboard. I got no pictures of the clothes.

He picked out a really nice Caribbean blue deck and a few stickers for it. It's neat to watch him put boards together- he pays close attention to the colors and creates a really nice overall look.

After we hit the clothing stores, we went back to the skate shop where Ant bought some wheels and bearings, then we went to his apartment so he could put the new board together with the trucks from his beat up board. He called his great grandma to say hello and thank you, then we headed to the skate park to test this thing out.

He hasn't done a lot of skating in a while.

Ant: "Why do I DO THIS!! It takes so much ENERGY!"

But he kept at it, and showed me some of the tricks he can do now. I was an annoying parent, taking lots of pictures and video. 

It was a nice day outside, and Ant was happy, of course- he got a lot of stuff today- but we had a good time. It was nice to hang out and talk, and I think he's as happy with the coat, hat, and gloves as with the board. He said he was working in a blizzard in Tahoe last year, and it seems like he'll be better equipped this time. He's got a room in a small apartment with a roommate, and the apartment is pretty straightened up and appears to stay that way. I don't know how long the other dude has been living there, but Ant seems to be comfortable and contributing. He's found some painting work in addition to the production company, and is managing. He plays hard, but he also works hard. It's nice to be able to treat him a little. Can you believe it's been 10 years since he came out here?

Paper tigers

I just sorted paper ALL DAY.

I should have taken a before picture. I think I had about two crates full after I found all the piles squirreled around my apartment. I had old bills, yes, but I also had my driver's ed certificate.

I sorted everything, and I am shredding and recycling approximately three reams. I have been listening to this organization podcast and even if I don't have a garage or a laundry room, it's been motivating. When I need to get productive, I cannot listen to a good book and definitely not music, or I will put on a concert.

Yesterday it was a hot mess in here, and of course it felt like I had just created a bigger nightmare. There were a couple self-flogging moments, but I argued with myself, insisting that I was making progress. The organization lady helped with that one too- she says goal accomplishment has levels: good, better, and best. Getting all the paper into one place is good. It's still progress. And it's only 7:00! Thank you, daylight savings.

I feel both recentered and intimidated. There are so many projects, and none of them will be finished in an afternoon. Ok, I don't know that.

There was a loss in the Topaz family, and I called Mom to make sure that my caution was not about my preference. We talked a good amount about intention, and how it doesn't measure up to shit unless you do something about it.

That reminded me to send an email thanking the woman who created a really helpful breakdown of the Mann Gulch fire. There is too much of an explanation in there, and I still need to vacuum, so I'm moving on now.

So I want to get these things done, or at least moving. I feel like I just got the weight of all this paper off me, but now I'm reminded of all the stuff I was supposed to do. Gah! Things that need daily attention! Things that will be expensive! Things that need to be prioritized! Things that are not easy or fun!

It was a humbling tour through the last five years, let me tell you. Time does go by fast. But while there were plenty of uncompleted things to flog myself about, I found all kinds of programs and ticket stubs and notes and nice little reminders of all the fun things I've done. I started some binders- thanks for the idea, Ma. The problem with photo or scrapbook albums is having to have the whole thing planned out already, and this way I can add or reorganize as needed.

There are large envelopes for each of Ant's school years- 2007 through 2012, then 2015. I have some Nixon family pictures, and keeping all of that together for him. There's been even more Jerry Springer drama in Chris' world, but it feels nice to be more removed from that. Ant felt the need to remove himself as well, and has moved in with a friend. He's struggling but working and learning, and he has a good attitude about it. I saw him Thursday, and we had a good time catching up. I try to limit my exasperation about how Chris' decisions impact Ant, because he is figuring that out. Today was a weird and neat place to be, looking at all this stuff I kept for Ant, and having a very different perspective about that time. I think I was only guilty of extreme optimism and low self-esteem. It wasn't all bad at all, but man... that boiled frog.

I felt from the beginning of that aftermath that I wasn't allowed to be sad or upset, and I get why. I think my grief has been long, though, drawn out some by me and some by the special brand of bullshit that Chris and one other can't help but spread. I think it's ok that it took a while. I think it means that I took the processing seriously. Today I combed through my whole life, but especially the past five years, and emerged intact- a little proud and a little mortified. I think I know what I want and I think I'm doing alright.

Second Baser

I just had the most fun I've had at any kickball game in two seasons. I got to be the pitcher and I caught two balls and got those people out. I also threw a ball home and hit the runner. It would have been a fair hit to her shoulder (which was higher than I intended- I'm kind of impressed with myself), but it bounced and hit her in the head which made her automatically safe. I didn't think I could throw like that.

I also got on base a few times. Once I kicked just inside third. Another time, I saw no good holes, so I bunted for the first time and made it to first! I got a run for our team and that doesn't happen a lot.

We lost, but without the mercy rule this time! Amanda said we were at something like 13-23, and 13 is more than we've scored in any game! So this was a longer game than we're used to playing. We were almost good enough to beat this team. I did not want to play tonight. I'm tired and whiny, but I had a lot of fun tonight. I need to get better at covering plays, but I picked up a lot tonight. You learn a lot faster in the infield. There's my quotable piece for the day. I'm glad I do shit when I really don't feel like it, because right now I feel amazing.

My precious

I just dropped Gus Gus off at the vet. I feel like an asshole. He has to spend the whole day there so he can have his glucose checked throughout the day. I feel like he's going to think his little world is ending.
I have no plans to go anywhere tonight so that I can make sure I can cuddle him and assure him that he now lives with me. This made me realize I need to adopt this little turkey.
I gave myself a little extra time after dropping him off so I could get breakfast. I thought I should be kind to my wallet and my carb count, so I decided to hit McDonald's instead of a sit-down meal. I was very excited about an Egg McMuffin because I rarely get them, and my carb lover's heart cried out, "Ooh, hash brown!" I proceeded to argue with myself: You don't need any damn hash browns. You can have a piece of fruit when you get home. Now, do you want an Egg McMuffin or an Egg White Delight? That's got white cheddar! All surly, my inner Samwise gamgee muttered "po-ta-to."

Happiness is an oven timer.

Where on earth have I been? I know, Tracy, I know.

So this class I was in ended after 8 long months, and I did my presentation. I felt panicked and unprepared, and while presenting with my partner, my heart pounded uncontrollably every time I stopped talking, but people told me I was one of the best presenters, and that I looked extremely comfortable up there, so haha! Score!

If it wasn't enough to be in the ceremony as well as running it, we also had kind of an tour afterwards, hocking our education wares. That was a first and we were all run down and exhausted, but we got through the day. The next workday was my birthday and a full day retreat for our new service. Then the writer-editor job was open for only three more days after that, so you know that's when I did the bulk of my resume. I finished the resume and started writing the cover letter only to realize that THAT'S the crucial part because I can tell them I can write or I can show them. So that's where I've been lately. And tennis and kickball and friends and a dog! and this guy I met online that is pretty awesome, actually... trying not to jinx it...

but I came here to tell you about appliances. I can just hear you now: "Oh yeah, we don't want to hear about the GUY, tell us about the appliances!" As you wish.

I re-signed my lease and asked the lovely apartment people what the incentive would be this time.

"Oh, we're not really doing that anymore."

"I understand," I said. "So what's my incentive going to be?"

They offered to either A) replace my carpets or B) upgrade my appliances. Now, why on earth would I accept new carpets? My carpet has hosted two leaky dogs and cat with thyroid problems- it is trashed. It would be lovely to get new carpet, but I still have a diabetic dog with a tiny bladder and a cat with increasingly improved liver function, and the three of us would destroy a new carpet quickly. The apartment people already have to replace the carpets when I move out if they're 5 years old. If they replace them now, I'LL have to pay for them. To hell with that. I'll take the upgraded appliances.

"Now, these won't be new- they'll be newER appliances from another unit."

Fine. My appliances cannot be any less than 30 years old. My oven is so old that it doesn't have a clock. It doesn't even have a timer. The door makes a huge bang when you open it. The fridge was so loud that friends would search around for the noise. When they realized it was the fridge, they'd ask, "Is it gonna die?" I would describe the dishwasher as crusty.

They all worked, so I didn't care- I just bought a timer. And I didn't care that I was getting new-to-me appliances- moving into the 90s is right about where my technology is right now- I was pleased. So imagine how pleased I was when I walked in and found the maintenance guy installing brand new appliances!!! He explained to me that he's the one who talked them into it, because he gets tired of replacing somebody's broken appliance with a newER appliance that's just broken in a different way, and he has to come back and fix that problem. They get mad at him and it wastes everybody's time, so just put in new appliances and keep your customers happy. Hell yeah!

My new fridge is bigger and clean and still has a couple styrofoam balls clinging to it. There is a SHELF in the FREEZER. It took me almost five years to figure out that I needed a shelf to stop the avalanche, and I went out with measurements and bought a shelf to fit in my freezer and only got to use that for like two months and this freezer comes with one!!! I am floored. There is room for everything and the bottom shelf in the fridge is clear, so I can see exactly what beers are in the crisper. He even changed the door so I don't have to go into the dining room to open the fridge.

The dishwasher is the prettiest damn thing I have seen in some time, and every time I pull the racks out I swoon at how smooth they are. It feels like when I got to keep Amy's dollhouse for a while and it had a dishwasher with little racks that pulled out and you could put one tiny plate on each rack. I was fascinated, and fake washed the dishes a lot. I am swooning over this dishwasher. It is amazing and I am in love with it.

But wait... the oven. The oven has a digital clock, guys. There are two digital clocks in my kitchen now, and one extra timer, which means I can have one timer on for the laundry and one for the bread that I will be baking from scratch in my brand new oven AND steam some veggies in the microwave all at the same time.

On the morning that the maintenance guys were coming to replace the appliances, I was all proud of myself for clearing a path to the kitchen. Then I realized there were still dishes in the dishwasher, pans, in the oven drawer, and magnets all over my fridge. I hustled around grabbing everything and completely forgot the oven hood, where I had a Gaudi magnet holding up a strip of paper that says

I am worthy of love.

This guy had taken it off the old hood and put it up on the new one. ♥

I have been feeling very loved and very fortunate lately. I don't know why all of these wonderful things are happening, but I am really, really grateful.

He's a real dog after all

Well, the trellis is not working out. Gus Gus is a tough, sturdy fellow who scoffs at $15 corrals. It would have been a great solution if he was as angelic as he seemed at first, before he shredded the recycle and reassured me that he is still a dog.

Tonight I took him to Jeffrey's, and we took Gus and the little diva dog he's watching for a walk by the river. Gus Gus behaved like a man on a dating site and kept trying to show her his wiener. Keep it in your diaper, Gus.

Gus got in the river, but just to chase Pippa's tail, so I'm not sure if he really likes the water or not.

Then we drove up to Amanda's where I got to eat a delicious steak dinner and the dogs wandered underfoot. Gus Gus is really not reactive with (most) other dogs, allowing them to be whatever they are without getting defensive. It's nice to have a dog that gets along with everyone.

Let's hope this evening wore him out and that he's too tuckered out tomorrow to find any trouble.

GSD Weekend

Isn't it smarmy when I come on here and talk about how productive I've been? Just think about all the times I don't write and you'll have an accurate idea of how often that happens.

But holy shit, it's rare to have a weekend like this. I didn't do much for fun- met Sarah at the mall yesterday, had breakfast with Amanda and talked to Shannon today, but the rest of the time I was knocking out stuff like mad.

I cleaned out and rearranged a few kitchen cupboards, and I have a whole mess of stuff to leave on the donation table at work. The cupboards look NICE. I bought a couple wire shelves and used those there and in the freezer. The freezer was making me crazy because I would organize it and two days later thing would be falling out. I found lots of meal prep stuff, entire meals... turns out you actually have to defrost and eat stuff. I have plenty of food.

I vacuumed everything. I learned that the curtains need to be washed. I rearranged furniture. I purged. I did laundry. I bought another dog bed. I found a carrier that will work for the dog or the cat for $8 at the thrift store. I found a piece of trellis that seems like it will work for corralling Gus in the kitchen during the day. It's too wide for a gate, and his diaper comes off at night sometimes. He behaves beautifully when I'm home, but is an imp if he's left out when I'm gone. I want him to have a little room to move and I'm working on training him to use a pee pad. I have lofty ideas about teaching him to use a little box...

You know I'll still take him for walks and work on him blood sugar, but how amazing would it be if he had access to pee? Someday I will have a yard, but for now I'm working with what I've got.

I washed floors and cleaned out the fridge, put work stuff together, washed, policed, dusted... I kept asking myself where all this motivation was coming from, then reminding myself that it didn't really matter and to take full advantage.

At work, we call these get shit done days. I'm trying to plan out my day off this week to knock out some more stuff because I am on FIIIYYAAHHHH.

I did drop my vacuum filter onto the laundry room roof while smacking the dust out of it. Serves me right- I should have done that in the grass. Now I either have to reach it with a broom or buy a new one. It's probably time.

I am going to make myself a little PBJ mini bagel half to keep my blood sugar up after my inevitable high productivity blood sugar crash, and then I'm going to curl up with the animals and READ! Ah, that sounds so good...

Hello, I love you

I did not get all or even most done today, but it was a full day at work and I've been running nonstop for hours. I'm trying to make some room and rearrange for my new friend Gus Gus, who is applying for the position as my new dog. Everyone tells me it's a done deal and he's already mine. He sneezed today and it was the most adorable sound I've ever heard. Mini is also trying not to love him, but as you can see from the pictures below, that is probably going to be impossible for either one of us.

Fair enough

Sunday I went to see Baby Driver with Jeffrey. It was just as fun as I'd hoped. I didn't read too much into it until the next day when my coworker made me think of how things go when we're in sync in our world. There are certainly moments and sometimes days that line up and everything feels smooth and right. Then there are the other times...

The movie was a nice reminder not to just buy other people's ideas of how you should behave. That's just how they see the world, and being loud or sure doesn't make them right.

That movie was a lot of fun, and has a lovely soundtrack, of course. Plus you know I love heist movies.

Tonight I went to see Valerian with Amanda and Sarah. I've never heard of it, but Amanda grew up with the books. I hope it went over better with her than it did me. It felt like a space movie cobbled together from other space movies, and how original are you if you have to come up with many alien species and they all have two arms and two legs? I thought this one was kind of terrible, but as Sarah put it, "It was a good movie for $5 movie night. I would have been mad if I saw that on regular priced movie night."

No self-flagellating messages will get through this deep sleep.

Today I was getting ready and realized I was missing a load of laundry. It was still downstairs in the washer. I saw the prism of a migraine just as I walked into work. Our boss's boss came to our morning meeting and I realized I'd left my kit at home.

But I hung up my wet laundry and popped some migraine meds and ran back home and bulldozed through. The meeting ran really long but it was full of good stuff and I had a couple other short meetings and then it was time for lunch! It was a Pollo day and somebody had the sense to get the boss's boss something because he was still meeting with people.

Even though I was told in an email I'd have all day to get references to the hiring supervisor, she started reaching out when I was still juggling my work and trying to process my path. It was a hard conversation that I didn't really want to have in front of my coworkers, but alright. I made my case and she understood, but asked me to think on it for a couple days.

The afternoon got eaten up with more work and some discussion about my current job and its potential. Then I went to go talk to people from Tesla about jobs. The recruiter I talked to said there are often technical writer jobs here, and you don't need the certificate, but that my experience sounded more appropriate for another job that I will be investigating.

Got back home, got ready for kickball. We are really short on players at the end of the season, and we're a little short next season, but some guy walking by agreed to play with us last week, so Sarah texted him. We lost but scored 8 runs, which is most we've gotten in any game. They all happened in the first inning!

But just like in softball, my impressive feats were in the last game. I got a run and I threw the ball at someone and got them out. Then our stand in player said he was short, so four of us went to play in his game. They're in the A league! I got another run, threw someone out, and caught a ball! It bounced off me, but I retrieved it and got the kicker out. And I played on two games! Crazy.

I stopped with Sarah for some street tacos, went home, took an Epsom salt bath, and just finished my prep for tomorrow. Some evil sprite told me I was getting to bed too late, but I thought about today and decided that I did everything I could. 😊

Complementary forces

By the time I make it back here, there's 800 things to tell you.

"How was your trip, Jenny?"

Great. Now let me go on my tirade.


I got back Saturday afternoon and actually started unpacking, but instead met up with Lena and had a beer and some food and hung out for a few hours. Mini did fine at her house except that Lena now knows that Mini hates having her nails trimmed and I am terrible at it. I got home and just cuddled Mini and put some things away.

On Sunday I did that half-hearted Sunday bullshit where you are almost productive but not exactly. I did find a shirt to wear for my interview, got my outfit sister-approved and put the rest of my crap away, which is a serious record in the unpacking from a trip category. I also bought food AND COOKED DINNER. I did not do yoga or finish a paper, but I did make progress on one.

On Monday, I suffered through the world's longest meeting, then had a short amount of time to finish preparing for a presentation, but I have done this one like seven times already, so I was fine and it went pretty well. Then I came back to my desk and my class buddy asks about my homework status. "It's gonna be a rough week," I say, "but I'll have it done by Friday."

"Except the Emotional Intelligence one, right?" he says.

"No... I'll be doing that this week."

"But... that's due... today."

Nice job, Jenny. So I went straight home after work and took the assessment, read the book, and wrote the paper and still went to the kickball game on time. I was the third person there... out of six. Half our damn team didn't show. One person is across the country- no idea what the rest of their excuses are. Sarah was mad and I agree- that was some shit. What's with the no notice? If we'd known even earlier that day, we could have found subs.

We had to forfeit, but the other team donated one player and one spectator, plus some guy from a totally different field offered to play his third game of the night with us. We played for fun, and it was the most fun we've had all season. Everyone was laughing and nice to each other, except for the ribbing from the other team to their donated player.

Today was my interview.

This damn job... it's the same grade and it's an admin assistant, but I was told it's the best spot we've got for editing. I wasn't even going to apply, but I had a conversation with the supervisor who told me it would be 65% editing. Well, ok! Who cares what else it involves? (Lots of fancy pants and meeting minutes, but wouldn't it be worth it to get paid for editing?)

I feel completely unsettled by the interview. I am pretty good at interviews, but this did not feel the same. I got some pretty positive signs from one person, but the other two were hard to read. They started talking to me as if I was interviewing for a totally different job which- hello- I am. You already know I am here for the editing! I am not worried about your admin. I can do all those things, and you clearly know that if I'm being interviewed. I'm interested in what the editing is about. I thought I had this conversation with you ahead of time because I didn't think it was a good fit either... until you talked me into it! Why are you trying to talk me out of it now?!? I didn't want to waste your time or mine, and now I'm wondering what this was all for.

So the assessment I took last night yielded pretty even results, so I chose self-management for my improvements. I think I'm alright with self-awareness, but I like to excuse my preferred behavior. I chose three strategies as required, and I tried to make them things that were relevant and possible- things that would show up often.

Visualize yourself succeeding
Stay synchronized
Sleep on it

Before I left for the interview, a coworker told me to picture the interview going well. Interesting how quickly that one came up. I LOVE imagining the worst case scenario- it feeds my inner drama llama. You know I love Rescue 911 and Drama in Real Life, and one of my very favorite things to do is imagine myself in the most dire of circumstances. Apparently, that's not the healthiest or most realistic thing to do. It would be more accurate to imagine success, but that's not how we're wired, and that's one of those things that's going to require rerouting.

The synchronizing is supposed to be about maintaining control over yourself, but I really like the idea of learning to notice when others' emotions are not lining up with their behavior. I can read emotions pretty well, but I miss the contradictions in their actions, which is probably why my friends think my man radar is busted. If I could see those things, I could do something different, but that's hard when you DON'T WAAAANNNA SEEEEEE.

As for turning that around on myself, I think it would be good to think about how quickly my behavior betrays my real feelings. If it's not something I would say, maybe it's not something I should show. That seems like a good rule.

This last one is going to be much harder than I anticipated. I do not want to put it down- even temporarily. I just had a long conversation with Tracy about this at 10:00 when she was trying to go to bed. When I am ready, it's time to go, and I am immediately and completely frustrated when everyone is not on board. I cannot begin to imagine how to work on that. I wasn't even able to accept the title of the strategy. I like the author's further description better- letting the dust settle. That feels like I'm still part of the action. I cannot look away.

This does not feel fair. I am just extraordinarily impatient?! I don't feel like an impatient person. It's true that I would rather start moving furniture than measure, but that's because I can't see it until I try it. I'm not good with projects that require chipping. I'd rather try dynamite. I wonder if the project problem is just that I never learned how to manage them. I like doing puzzles, but it borders on obsession- I can barely drag myself away for inconveniences like sleep and work until it is done. Maybe that's not fair either- what if I had a puzzle room? What if I could close the door and not have to worry about it being covered in weekly debris or cat vomit?

I know I am not a disciplined person. I don't know if it's possible to become one. My therapist says no, and that I'd be better off by accepting my messy self, stop making so many lists, and just taking advantage of the productivity when it hits. Maybe also try to make life easier as is rather than always seeking an overhaul. But what if I LIKE overhauls!

I would like to write, and I have some really good ideas, but I can't seem to structure my days. That sounds so productive and also so BORING. Plus I have about twelve other things I'm supposed to be doing every day- what gets priority? Should I start getting ready for bed as soon as I'm done getting things ready for the next day?

I am gone a lot. I am back to sports three nights a week, and I'm trying to add more. I've got friends who want to rally, and I want to walk, do yoga, and get knocked down in a martial arts class. I want to take drum lessons and a writing class, start submitting writing and volunteering to edit. I want to go out with friends and meet more stupid, disappointing men. You'd forgive me for that if you knew the details. I want to make things and grow things and learn things and see things and this goddamn job takes up too much of my world, so it's past time to find a way to get paid to spend my time how I want.

If they don't see my worth for this job, it's probably for the best, and all that means is I have to find my own damn path. That wasn't much of a surprise, was it? But I am still without the key, which is to figure out how to channel all this energy and intention into daily steps towards those big, big goals.

I'll do it anyway

I just spent my early Sunday morning at Kaia Fit doing yoga. I was supposed to meet a friend there, but she didn't show. I was expecting one of their crazy CrossFit kind of workouts, but the trainer told me I showed up on a good day. I still hate downward dog, but way worse than that was putting any weight on my skinned knee. OWWWW
Had to happen sometime, I guess. It was a good little workout, even though I didn't know anyone and being ditched made me think about stupid boys being stupid. Twisted Root wrung all that out of me though, or most. Kickball practice was canceled because it's awfully hot already, and so I'm going to take a bird bath and cat nap with the cat (it was a late night), then enjoy my Sunday.

An athlete is as an athlete does

Another late kickball game tonight. We lost 17-4, but hey, we got 4! We got 3 in the last game, so we're doing better and better. We do suck, but to be fair, less than half of our team usually shows up to practice and the other teams are skirting the rules by having only three girls- and almost all the girls bunt.

I did not make it on base this time. I was kicking the shit out of the ball yesterday, and my shin muscles (didn't know where those were before) hurt so bad today that I had to slow my friend down on our walk and even stop for a bit. I wear my sporty self out at practice.

I did have a little too much zest for my first kick today and lost my balance. I was going for a surprise, since everyone comes way in on the girls' kicks. Amanda said I was holding back, and maybe my shin didn't want to play anymore. I booted it on the next one, but between first and second, and was thrown out.

I have a couple simple goals for kickball like I did for softball. I have made it to third, but not home yet, and I need to catch a ball and get some jock out. Nataliia took out their first baseman tonight. He was on the orange bag, so he earned it, but she didn't stop and took him right down. It was hilarious.

Today on our walk, I said something to my friend about kickball and she said, "You do fun things!" I'm all mad that I'm not an amazing athlete, I'm mad that people don't show, I'm mad that other teams take advantage, I'm mad that this stupid ump admits he can't see without the glasses he doesn't wear, but I have to remind myself that I am doing something fun- even when it's hard. I'm proud of myself for being unsure and uncomfortable and unfashionable and doing it anyway! It's funny how lots of things I need to improve on are wrapped up in this ridiculous game. Could I have picked a more fun avenue for self-improvement? There were lots of old lessons to be relearned tonight- one of which was hydrogen peroxide BURNS OH GOD IT BUURRNNNSS, but the more it burned, the louder I laughed. There's something to be said for that.

This kid.

This picture came up in my Facebook memories today, and I started thinking about that time and this kid.

This was right about when things started coming unraveled, and while we'd always spent time together, Ant was being extra appreciative of his time with me. For Mother's Day that year, I came home to flowers and a clean house. It became apparent fast that it had all been orchestrated by Ant. He made Chris help him clean everything, not just one room. He went through the cupboards, wrote a grocery list, added flowers to it, and sent Chris to the store. Ant didn't tell me he did all that- Chris told me.

Of course, now I know that Chris was taking Ant along to go have dinner at his other girlfriend(s?) house, making him complicit. Ant was given this terrible secret to keep from me, and tried to keep that and make things nice between me and his dad for months. It was Ant who finally let me know that I was leaving. He was angry and yelling and it came right out while we were standing in the park. I let Ant leave with his friend, and I headed home to confront Chris. Ant called after me. "Please don't yell at him," he asked me. "Don't tell him it was me."

Ant and I used to bake cookies or breads together, and we did that a lot in those last few months, not knowing what would happen after I moved out. The last weekend I lived there, I told him to invite his best friend for a sleepover, thinking it might be a long time before they saw each other again, and it was. I got them junk food and movies, and the three of us took the dogs to the park. Ant and Bubba horsed around on the playground and rolled down the considerable hill. Then they plotted for a moment and came up to sit by me, but instead each grabbed an ankle and dragged me down the hill, all of us cracking up. They knew what was happening and gave special care to me that day, following my instructions the second time instead of the 15th and being adorable pests. I felt so much love from them and for them.

We are almost at the ten year anniversary of Ant's move to Nevada and into a hot glued family. The books were right- it took a couple years for us both to find our roles and learn to love each other. I thought I would have time to take him more places and teach him more things, but those five years hold a rock solid place in his heart. We are close now again, thanks to the six months he lived here and our regular dinners. We hold onto that pretty tightly, and now that we both have a say, I don't think we will ever lose our connection again.

At dinner this week, I started to say something about things going on in his life that started with "I worry," and cut myself off there and we both giggled. I'll worry about whatever it is- no need to elaborate. But this is a warm, loving soul who checks in with his great-grandmother and reminds me that I'd asked him to fix my DVD player. He's starting to learn the power of his inherited charm, but doesn't like the way his dad behaves towards women. He has his dad's mannerisms, but it's my voice he hears. We talk about the effects of addiction and how to be happy. We talk about what we learn from love gone wrong. I think he's understanding that what I want for him is to be happy, to go after the hard things, and to not hurt anyone, including himself. I'll worry the whole way, but I trust his path, and I am so grateful to have this kid who became my kid in my life.

We are both lucky.

Cleaning up by obligation

This weekend, I went to coffee with a friend. It's a work friend, and she's never wanted to meet up before. I woke up and got ready for tennis, but my blood sugar was wacky and I didn't get to go. I left my hair in the pigtails and put on some rolled jean shorts and a stretched out thrift store Dodgers shirt that entertains me. My friend was supposed to meet me around 1, but she texted early. I replied and she didn't, so I pestered her more. She was making a break for it, but I caught her on the edge of town. She was hot and tired after a volunteer clean up project in town, and she doesn't like to talk to anyone on weekends, so it was commendable that she let me chuck aside her excuses, especially after that. We finally got to meet up, and sat talking for three hours. We were there so long that when Lena's husband texted, asking me to meet them for dinner, I should have had plenty of time to go home and get ready. We were still chatting away and I left with just enough time to run home and change.

At dinner, I told Lena there was no way I could have gone straight to dinner- she would have sent me home. She laughed, but then I told her I had been wearing cutoffs and she stopped smiling. Then I told her about the red Chucks with the green socks and she shuddered. Top that off with the too big Dodgers shirt with a sports bra underneath and she agreed- I would have been sent home.

On Sunday, I practiced kickball and then ate the most delicious steak tacos at Jimboy's with Jeffrey. Then we took a couple turns around Virginia Lake until my blood sugar tanked, and then we ate ice cream at Red Hut. Yep, I sure did. It was small and I managed it right- bringing myself right back to where I needed to be. After that, we went to our favorite place to hang out: Winco. Late that night, I took a bite of cantaloupe and my tongue started tingling. That's never happened to me ever, and Google said it's an allergy. WHAT THE HELL. We are not done with this conversation, cantaloupe.

I reworked my dating profile- changed some pictures and finally answered entire sections I had left out. I have been meaning to do that for a while- about a year, I think. I have no idea if my proven dating profile editing skills will help my own search, but it is approaching the online dating app witching hour, so we shall see. And tomorrow night I'm going to host Sarah and hopefully Ant for dinner and ~GASP~ try a new recipe. Mmmmm let's hope.

That's the last time Jenny gets to pick

I dreamt that I got a lot of friends together to go hang out at a bar/amusement park. After drinking and going on rides that required holding on to handles suspended way up in the air through jumps and really fast turns, we decided to move on to the next place. There was a limit of designated drivers, but I found one and made him stay to watch a Gothic dollhouse wedding. We were informed that something might be terribly wrong with our health and were steered to the prep area for the handy operating room they had on site, where they specialized in cutting your cheek open for some reason that sounded really important at the moment. My friend got an ugly, jagged Joker mouth on one side, and I ended up with a long diagonal cut down the side of my cheek like Inigo Montoya, and I was dismayed yet slightly entertained by the idea that I was going to have to walk around for the rest of my like yelling, "HALLO! My name..."
While recovering (and desperately trying to contact the rest of my friends only to find they were still there too with all their cheeks cut and drinking the Kool-aid), I got to talk with two of the doctors about how the surgery went and my prognosis. "We also switched your eyeballs." I laughed, and that doctor laughed too. The other doctor said, "No- really," while holding my gaze.

Just a game

I was having a stressful afternoon yesterday and wondering if I would make it to the game at all, but my tennis coach got me half priced tickets to the Aces game last night, and I made it to Jeffrey's in time despite a stomachache and three forced detours. We walked over and found our seats- the best we've ever had- and shared a pretty good (and messy) burger. We caught up on each other's lives, laughed with the people sitting around us,  and cheered on the Aces and occasionally the other team when we weren't paying enough attention or when a member of the Baby Cakes had a particularly nice butt.
After playing a month of kickball, we were both newly impressed with the athletic skill on display. There were a couple home runs, but the throws! Oh, the throws. One guy threw this perfect low arc from the far outfield to home plate. The crowd roared, because how the hell...

"Why can't I throw like that, Jeffrey?"
"Because you aren't semi-pro."

Ah. Fair enough.

Even the foul balls were crazy good. I'd be super proud if I hit a foul ball 1/5 of that distance. In other words, they played baseball, but we enjoyed it more, imagining how much closer our bases are to each other and marveling that their hits to the back wall only result in a double. Sometimes ours do too, according to some rule the ump called out at our last game.

We lost that one too, but we are not nearly as bad as we all thought we'd be. We practice weekly, and I think we may win one by skill at least once this season. Jeffrey asked me last night if I was going to play softball. As much as I like the idea of it, the anxiety it gives me outweighs any fun. I played one whole season, so I'm good. I may play kickball again. Jeffrey felt the same way, so we may just be the resident peanut gallery of support for our favorite softball team. Start up a Wiffle ball game though, and I'm there.

As is May in Reno (or potentially anytime here, really), it got cold and windy when the sun went down. Colder than expected or planned for. We shivered through it, because neither of us was willing to leave. We stayed through the end of the game for the fireworks set off to a Katy Perry medley, then shivered over to Harrah's for hot chocolate (Jeffrey) and a London Fog hot tea for me. Somewhat warmed, we headed back to Jeffrey's, where he put some peanut butter on the most delicious bread, and after we talked a while, he played guitar and sang some songs he'd written and some he hadn't and a couple we both knew.

It was a really lovely night, and we agreed that while we'll remember that it was cold, we'll remember the fireworks more. It was a feast last night with the grilled onions and cheesy mustard of the burger, the green, brown and white on the field against the blue sky, chair dancing while being huddled together, craning up at the bangs and cracks of the orange, smoky, and curling fireworks, chewing on an open faced peanut butter sandwich and sipping what truly felt like London fog while absorbing the tones of an acoustic guitar- that is a sound that truly can't be replicated recorded. That night that was sewn into my memory.

At least one

I just got home from a date. It went very well- he was nice and carried on a good conversation, had a sense of humor and a very cute smile. It went on too long, but that's a good sign. I was thinking about about looking for love as a middle aged kook and my mind immediately rushed back to high school and reading Cynthia Rylant's A Couple of Kooks.

At 16, I only understood love as the Romeo and Juliet kind, but Cynthia Rylant wrote about quiet love that surprises more like a plant sprouting in the garden overnight than anything desperate and chaotic like earthquake shocks. Her characters knew they were too old or too young or too plain for love but it showed up anyway, somewhere in the everyday like at the drugstore, and she told their stories as if she was waiting in line that day and was just observant enough to notice it happening.

I remember reading these stories and thinking this was the only kind of love I ever wanted- warm and earnest and unexpected and imperfect, but as real and odd as shower caps or canned peas. I don't know if this guy is the right kind of kook for me, and there really isn't anything to do but to find out, but for the first time since I started dating, I feel like I'm finally starting to find some kooks.

Short update

I hate turning on my air conditioning because an indoor smoker lives downstairs. Any time I turn it on, it immediately reeks in here and gives me a headache. It makes me so mad. Even when I have moments of weakness, I smoke outside. Arrrgghh.

I am getting a new pump! Apparently I need the new one so I can get in line for the new new one, which will be able to incorporate the information from the sensor and if you go too high or too low, THE PUMP WILL AUTOMATICALLY ADJUST. It'll really be like an external, bionic pancreas! When the doctor asked the nurse to get me set up, she turned to me and asked, "Do you want the purple one again?" YES. Love this woman.

I hate the reading for my class. You would be amazed at how many white guys there are postulating about leadership. It's all basically saying the same thing, and I am frustrated by the content, how boring it is, and the fact that we're only assigned a few chapters from each, so I can't even count these towards my Goodreads challenge, which I am behind on.

I spent the weekend running around with friends, but kickball practice and a random trip to Tahoe and hosting dinner all got canceled today, so I dragged my ass up and cleaned and purged and organized. I got rid of a couple big items and one has already disappeared from the mailbox area. I still have to vacuum and read another two chapters of a hated book, but I'm hoping to also finish The Metamorphosis, which has the benefits of being interesting and short.

Tomorrow's kickball game is at 9:45. PM. Yes. Yeah.

Productive Sundays are much better than the usual.

Today was a nice day. I had a massage this morning, then I went to kickball practice. I stole this picture from a friend because I clearly had to.

I haven't been to tennis in a few weeks due to my coach's schedule, my schedule, and my crazy health problems. I got really sick right after Vancouver, and I was struggling just to be at work. I've been really tired and my kickball skills have been sad and gimpy, thanks to my nonstop hip pain. Maybe it was the massage or maybe I'm just finally feeling better, but I started playing like I did at our first practice when I felt like this was going to be fun.

Our pitcher was out today, so I got to step in for part of the practice. I haven't had a steady position yet because we all swapped out during the first game. For the second game, the other team didn't have enough players so they has to forfeit. We lent them a couple of our players and played for fun, and I ended up being catcher with horrible stomach pain and very hurty hips. Our last game got canceled due to work being done on the fields, and I'm kind of looking forward to playing tomorrow night. I hope I feel as good then as I did today. I caught a good handful of balls today, and that hasn't happened for me in a game yet.

For the rest of the day, I did laundry, cleaned, and picked up after myself. I am amazed at how rarely I put things away. It feels like I'm always running somewhere, so that's a good excuse for being messy, but it's overwhelming in a bad way. I spent today trying to prepare for the week and making my future self happy. I took a nice movie break in the middle, but I made myself keep busy until 8, then started watching the BFG, as recommended by Ant.

I won't make it through the movie tonight- I'm already half asleep- but it's nice that so many things are already done and I won't have to do much tonight or tomorrow morning.

I got to spend a few hours with Ant on Wednesday, and we had a nice evening. I made his favorite dinner, but he jumped in to help during the crucial mixing time. He loves his spaghetti carbonara, and his general policy is that we need more cheese.

After dinner, he helped me carry down the recycle and thrift store donations. We dropped those off and headed to Baked Bear, where he got an ice cream sandwich with a brownie on one side and an m&m cookie on the other, with cookie dough ice cream and crushed Reese's Peanut Butter Cups on the outside. Thankfully, I was low and got to sample it heavily.

We had a really nice conversation over those several hours, and while some parts were aggravating in the way that talking to a knucklehead teenager can be, it was overall really interesting and warm. He is a good kid and I always feel lucky to spend time with him. We talked a lot about his dad's current Jerry Springer level drama, and Ant told me that he thinks if he hadn't seen how his dad treated me, he would probably behave in the same way and never think a thing of it. He is also aware of my influences on him, but I tell him and everyone else who tries to give me too much credit that I might have been instrumental, but it's his heart that's always been open. He is a kind and loving person, and I am very proud of him.

I know I have letters to write and projects to start or finish, and I am trying to figure out how to manage my time a little better. I'm starting to feel overwhelmed by stuff and I'm trying to do some purging and organizing. I'm halfway through my class, and the one I'm reaching is almost over! There are career options I'm looking into and I'm trying to become a better friend, a fit athlete, a healthy eater, an effective organizer, and a confident single with a dating life. I've also been thinking about dogs, because I never feel like there's enough on my plate.

I love that I'm busy, and I think a lot about how untethered I am right now. I do not feel like tethering at the moment, but I can get whims. Like this blog, which has no direction, but can be fun anyway.

Alright, that's enough. I just wanted to share this. I know I have Vancouver stuff to post. So many things to do...

Lotiony hair, don't care

I made it! The work week is over.

This was illness and self-misdiagnosis week. It was also hell week, which is when all three leadership programs happen. It was also the week immediately following the Vancouver vacation. (I had a great time and will pester A for pictures so I can share that fun with you.)

We got back Sunday evening, and immediately went to celebrate N's birthday. I left by 8 and was happy to come home. Monday I went to work and felt exhausted, of course, but around noon I started having stomach and back pain. I took a couple ibuprofen and felt better. After work I went home and napped, then woke to find an angrier stomach. I went to kickball, but between my stomach, my exhaustion, and my nonstop hip pain since early March, I limped and lurched sadly around as catcher. We actually won that game, since the other team didn't have enough players show up in the freezing cold, so we donated a couple of ours and played for fun. Only girls are allowed to bunt, so every girl on their team bunted, because I couldn't move very well. Well, all except Sarah. Sarah's not a bunting kind of girl.

After the game, I was in worse pain and I was sore and tired and whiny. I took another couple ibuprofen, but it was clear by 1am that those were doing nothing, so I started doing research.

Oh jeez, the diagnosis adventure I have been on this week. The list of possibilities laid out by me and several nurses, a doctor, and coworkers covers a wide, entertaining to alarming range. Let's just summarize this one by telling you I still have pain in my belly and back, but the symptoms have improved greatly. I've got an appointment with my doctor next week and we'll just deal then. And yes, I will go back in if things get all crazy again. It's been miserable. I stayed home on Tuesday after my early morning ER visit and (don't be alarmed- that's kind of like urgent care) and again on Wednesday when I was still in awful pain and couldn't wear pants. My boss said she knew it was bad when I didn't come in to teach my class. My coworker was prepared to cover it, thankfully. Thursday I went in and was doing pretty well- did my writing presentation in an oxycodone cloud, then made the dire mistake of eating actual food for lunch, and had to run home to get rid of it. I went out and stocked up on Gatorade, diet ginger ale, saltines, tea, and bread for dry toast.

But today... today was the class I'm taking- the one I can't miss. If I miss a class, I'll have to make it up next year and graduate with that group. To hell with that.

Oh god, I wish I could tell you about the last 24 hours, but it's WTMI. It was so awful, and I was up sick all night. I dragged myself into class, though, and it wasn't looking good through the first half of the day. People were checking on me, and the nurse in class told me she was worried. My boss and a classmate brought me crackers and tea, which was the kindest thing ever, and I paced in a small circle in the corner. It got better as the afternoon wore on, and by the end of class, the nurse informed me that my color had returned. I got called a trouper, which always feels nice.

I'm feeling like a trouper lately- for being afraid and checking out the crazy heights on my trip anyway, for keeping myself calm in a prop plane landing in Reno on a very gusty day, for doing my 45 minute presentation while hurty, and for dealing with today. I had a scary, panicked moment last night when my symptoms seemed to align with appendicitis (they really don't, but it was late and I was stressed) and I was convinced that I had screwed up royally and was going to rupture that thing. I found the weirdest solution ever, which was to allow my brain to follow that through and say ok, if that did happen, what would happen next?

It's odd- I don't seem any good at stopping the anxiety, and maybe the key for me is to just not. I love this saying that the only way out is through, and I read recently that that's a big component to PTSD. People get stuck in the trauma when they don't get a chance to work through it.

I have things on file that I keep in my brain for bad times. I saw a funny video compilation on YouTube years ago, and one clip was a truck that overturned, sending a bunch of cows rolling out onto the road. It horrified me, not only because I felt terrible for the cows, but also because who the hell thought that was funny? Maybe you just did. Sorry. It's not meant to make you feel bad, and maybe you're of the mindset that it already happened and it was funny surprising more than funny ha-ha. It just made me feel really bad, long after the cows ever did. When I feel awful about the world, I add whatever self-flogging I'm currently doing into a file called Things That Make Me Feel Awful and review everything in it while I'm there. The cows are imprinted because I keep accessing that memory.

On the other hand, perhaps you remember me writing about the rat that I watched get run over. That made me feel really bad, and you know how bad that felt, because you read about it here. The rat is not in the Awful file, though, because I processed it. I wonder if (and hope that) the cows leave the file now that I have actually taken that thought out of my head and written it down.

So I have always loved drama and trauma stories, and what pulls me is not morbid fascination, but that one desperate, human moment where everything either works out or doesn't. I love the details of that moment- slowing it down and looking at it from every direction, and weighing the decisions made- the whys and the what ifs. Following through on my appendix fear and creating a mental screenplay allowed me to imagine a dramatic moment where I could be heroically stoic. It took me away from panic and into a game plan. If it really had been my appendix, the plan would have immediately veered off in another direction as plans do (definitely one that involved me crying), but thinking about any game plan is better than panic.

In my class today, we were doing a listening exercise that involved sharing a problem and receiving suggestions. Someone told me to make a pros and cons list about mine, which might seem obvious, but it was an interesting challenge to have to quantify my concerns. Are there really that many reasons not to go after this thing that I want, or am I just conflating a bunch of fears? Instead of trying to stop all anxiety or allowing it to stew, maybe the thing to do is give it a voice. It seems the worst that could happen is that I end up with writing fodder. Maybe I can write fiction after all.

Look at me processing and learning and growing and doing hard things. Last night was truly awful, and I knew I'd be exhausted today, but I was going to class anyway. I finally got to sleep around 5:15 and got up when my alarm went off at 6. I took a shower and thought about not washing my hair because I'd just washed it yesterday, but decided to be as put together as possible while being a disassembled mess internally. I was all impressed with myself for functioning on no sleep and making it out of the house, but just at the point when I started feeling like a smart and capable adult in control of her body and mind this afternoon, I reached up and ran my hand through my hair and realized with horror that I never washed the conditioner out. At least I looked as bad as I felt.