I put my name in at IHOP, affirm that I am a party of 1, go sit down. Another woman comes in, puts her name in: Jen. How many: 1. The hostess asks, "Are you with Jenny?"
"Uh, no."
"Oh my god, that's so weird! Someone else came in just now- also a Jen, also alone!"
The other Forever Alone Jen raised her eyebrows in a JesuscanIjusteatbreakfast kind of way.
I feel you, Jen.
My PERC people came out tonight to say goodbye to me. We had a really fun night and nobody would let me buy anything. We had a showing of about 14, I think. I love these people, and I'm going to miss seeing them every day.
This week's road is turning out to be much bumpier than I had first anticipated. It was so bumpy today that I fell out of my chair. I was scooting back and forth between my desk and my co coworker's- trying to accomplish many things quickly before the next interruption- and at one point I scooted and the chair did not. I actually just knelt down to check on what Riley was chewing on and wondered why my knee hurt. It hurts because I fell on it, and also did a number on my wrist. I ate like shit today, I need some fruit and a salad, I need a bath. The new boss for the PERC is returning tomorrow and she does not know what awaits her. We only found out Friday and she was already on vacation and nobody wanted to ruin her vacation. We're all expecting the shit to hit the fan tomorrow, but I do understand that this situation is not as big or important as it feels. There's always drama and things will eventually be fine and people will figure it out- I may understand it but it is so hard to keep that perspective from the the middle the middle of it. I have gotten a lot of compliments in the past few days at work. My fear is that no one will miss me- that they will say: What did we ever need her for? It feels really good that people seem alarmed that I am leaving. They tell me that they will miss me, that they will miss the environment I have created, they'll miss my capability, my organization, my knowledge, my management, my cleanliness, and my company. They promise to visit me and bring me Diet Cokes. They promise to invite me for lunch. They warn me that they'll call a lot with questions. They giggle about how often they ask me questions now. They can can tell when I'm just angry because I am sleep deprived or needing sugar. They know I like dark chocolate and silly sticky notes. They know that I am always half listening and can jump in with information when they are answering questions at the window. They giggle at me good-naturedly, and I do feel like I will be missed. I have invited a lot of the regulars out for a drink on Friday evening, and so far, not one person has said no.
The new place will be fine and it will be good and it will be bad and everything in between and I will like some people a lot more and I will like others a lot less and I will be in a different place and I will have to focus on what's good and try not to focus on what is sad or worse, but I do look forward to being able to focus. Today felt like trying to draw a portrait being while riding in the back of a pickup truck down a poorly maintained dirt road full of ruts. At 4:15, I had a contractor and a volunteer standing in the office asking me if I would like them to stay and help me finish something. I'm thinking I am going to go in early tomorrow because the only thing I desperately need is 20 minutes of silence. I'm trying to prepare a contingency plan for the person taking over because she's about to get hit with a shit storm. I know I cannot prepare adequately or prevent said shit storm, but my friends are taking over and I do not want them to be left with anything less than an reasonably oiled machine. I know I can't keep that place afloat for long and I have been informed that it is not my concern. I do not expect to be able to carry both places, but once everything is moved and the calls quiet down and all of my folders and sticky notes are put away and I am left with a quiet digital library, I am going to miss the hell out of that chaos.
I've been up for an hour already. I wonder why I am not sleeping well lately.
Yesterday I took a half hour brisk walk for me and then brought Riley out for a two hour meander. We enjoyed the time outside and mostly just sat in the sunshine. We saw our neighbors on their way to walk the hill with their dogs and I felt sad that Riley is not as interested in such trips anymore. As it was, I carried her the last half block. I'm telling you- I'm going to end up getting a dog stroller no matter how stupid it looks. I'd love to be able to get my exercise walk in with my Riley walk instead of choosing one over the other. Crazy cat lady, crazy dog lady, or just plain crazy lady.
It's too late now to go back to sleep, and later I'm going to pine for my bed.
I have been ignoring the dating website, but I will venture back in. I got word at work on Friday that my move is the 30th, so I'll be leaving my post in Chaos Central for a quiet cubicle in one of the standalone buildings. I'm very sad about leaving my new found family. There's no word on the one I applied for yet, so I'll go pester HR today. I don't know which one to hope for, honestly, but Dad said to just envision the things I want, like working with good folks, a boss that supports me and demands high standards, an environment that encourages creativity and promotion, a situation that fosters healthy decisions... envision these things and let the rest go, as the universe is still sorting things out.
I'm having an easier time with that lately. My to do lists are less insane, or if they are not, I understand that they are only suggestions of what I COULD do. This weekend felt productive and full even though I did not check off my whole list, or even half.
My alarm just went off, so it's time to start my week. Of course, now I feel ready to sleep.
For the last three days, I have been sick with food poisoning. I know what it was, and I am doing better, but I am here to complain about one particular aspect of this nightmare. I can deal with the stomach distress and the BRAT diet, I'm ok with the lightheadedness and cabin fever, I'm fine with the simultaneous period cramps, and I can even handle the heartburn or acid reflux or whatever the hell is going on there, but Jesus H. Christ, the blood sugar crashes are killing me.
The worst was the first night, when I was throwing up for hours. That finally stopped at 2, and I spent the next hour and a half sipping juice and emergency soda, just barely keeping myself at 70. I was too nauseated to eat anything, which makes me think about how to prepare for such problems in the future. Sparky brought me Gatorade and applesauce and saltines the next day, thankfully, and I have been maintaining with that.
I have been wobbling downstairs just enough to let the dogs potty. I had Jasmine for the week- Chris just came to pick her up last night. Thank god my neighbors were at work and that dog loves to chase a laser pointer. I can't wait to make it further than the parking lot before having to sit down- I am desperate for a walk. I'm hoping that's today. For right now, though, I'm sucking down the rest of the applesauce and hoping that's enough to keep me afloat, because my stomach rejected the idea of the saltines. I cannot even consider a granola bar. My options are limited. I'm gonna have to make it out tomorrow. I feel like a pioneer in a silly version: Little Apartment on the Prairie, and I need to hitch up the team and get to town, like it's this long, arduous journey.
Applesauce consumed, I now have to sit up for as long as possible to avoid the heartburn. I have been conscious of this for a long time, before I had any problems. It just seemed likely to happen if I was eating in the middle of the night due to crashes, so I would always try to sit up for a while, then prop myself up when back in bed. It occurred to me yesterday that whenever I have the room and the money, I should probably buy a recliner, so I can rest upright.
Yesterday, when I was finally able to get up and dressed and get the dogs downstairs, I made it to the wall by the carports and had to rest. We sat there, all of us enjoying the fresh air, when some guy jumped over the wall behind us. It scared the hell out of me and both dogs, and my blood sugar promptly crashed. Jesus.
These are the things that make diabetes so fun. Sparky did a nice job this year of shooting down my guilty notions that I brought diabetes on myself. The food poisoning, he hangs squarely on me. (I should not have risked that salad- I was a big dummy.) It is interesting, though, to let go of horrible beliefs and find that I'm not bad, I didn't do anything to deserve diabetes, and to recognize that it forces me to pay attention and take care of myself. Adrenaline and illness and stress all have an immediate effect on my blood sugar, and that doesn't mean I'm weak. It's just a symptom of a disease I'm still learning to accept.
I'm so tired. When my heartburn can stand it, I lie on the floor with my legs on the couch and let my back scream. I am constantly burping or hiccuping, lightheaded, nauseated, low, or conked out. If this doesn't let up, I'm going to have to have somebody drive me to the VA because I am too tired to keep up the vigilance. Maybe they could give me some anti-nausea medicine, something for the heartburn, or just stand watch over my blood sugar and let me get some sweet, sweet sleep.
Her entire purpose for being in the basket is to guard the small piece of dog treat behind the door. The girls are playing the cookie game, and when they come into the room, Mini ducks down out of sight. If they get near the door, Mini pops up and swats them. The dogs make the funniest startled noises, but they are so focused on competing for cookies, they just move on. What a cute little asshole.
