Let me start by saying, I love Google Calendar.  So much that I (almost) didn’t want an iPhone for fear it wouldn’t sync properly…oh, wait.  There’s an app for that!  GooCal, and it’s free!  I have 4 kids, one husband, two dogs, and myself to keep track of.  One kid is in college, and the other three are in two different school districts (long story… read back a post or two).  Mr. W is in the reserves, so drills once a month, not on the same weekend every month, and travels a LOT with his regular job.  The dogs are, well, dogs, so don’t take up much calendar space except around shot time.  And me? Well, I have doctors appointments for my perpetual state of being sick, work meetings that I hate, but have to go to, the occasional work trip and plenty of scheduled overtime. 

Beyond all that are doctor’s appointments for all 6 of us, driver’s ed appointments, field trips, visits to the ex-men, holiday plans, vacations and trips, birthdays, and anything else under the sun that we should probably remember but probably won’t.  I also track all our bills on a calendar.  Due dates are input and recurring and bills that are the same every month are input as such.  It is a lifesaver to help me remember due dates, amounts due, and budget.  I can also change the color of each “event” to show that the bill has been paid. 

It’s a truly invaluable tool for anyone who, like me, tends to the side of chaos, but is something that could be handy for anyone at all, especially when you can access it from any computer, tablet, or smart phone.  Each topic can have its own calendar, and can be shared (with see-only to full privileges) individually with any other google account holder.  And each one can be toggled to display or not in your master calendar.  This is handy if, like me, you have a cacophony of colors spread across your screen every time you pull it up.  Let me give you a picture;

• My calendar – dark blue
• Mr. W – purple
• Mr. W’s drill sched – blue
• the boy – dark pink
• the girl – light pink
• the step-boy – dark purple
• the step-girl – light purple
• birthdays – yellow
• bills; acct #1 – light brown
• bills; acct #2 – dark brown
• paydays/rent – green
• vacations – light green
• holidays – dark green
• anything important – orange
• the end of the world – red (12/21/2012 – hee, hee)

I’m considering adding another color for Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts events (which have started this year), but the whole thing is becoming a little too much.  See, every month, I have lines and lines of color across my calendar for all the things we are slated for.  Appointments are scattered here and there, but the color bars, that’s where that cacophony I mentioned comes from.  We average 28 out of 30 days having something in each calendar block, and about 7 of those have so many somethings that I have to access a pop-out window to see the full extent of overextension that I have that day.  Granted, our busiest calendars are the bills calendars, but it’s still an eye-sore to look at. 

And the girl wants to do ballet.

And the boy wants to play basketball.

And the step-girl is full-time with us.

…so many colors….

All kidding aside, it is a wonderful tool without which I may possibly go crazy, or bankrupt, or both…

And on to my next sponsor: if this post seems a little disjointed, it’s because it is.  Thanks to the wonderful newbie status in my office, contributed by the fact that I’m generally pleasant at work, I have been honored with a very high level challenge…yeah, can’t even keep a straight face with that one – for the last week, I’ve been scanning. And nothing else. Page after page after page of really old, only in paper copy mishap data.  4 boxes total, and I’m on box 1.  So far, I’ve scanned 423 pieces of paper, and did I mention I’m only on box 1? I’m armed with my staple remover, stapler, and scanner – sans document feeder.  It’s such fun. It’s totally mindless (my full potential obviously being recognized and put to use on this one!) so I could theoretically get other things done in the meantime with all my mad multitasking skills.  Except that each scan takes 30 seconds. And then I have to change the page. *switch* And once each document is scanned *switch* it takes about 90 seconds to re-staple, decipher, sort, label and file*switch* each document. And since my computer is really slow (lovely government computer) *switch* it take about 3 seconds for it to register that I want to scan, and allow me to switch back to whatever window I was *switch* previously on.  So. Much. Freaking. Fun.  The scanner is on the right side of my desk, so my right shoulder is getting a *switch* heck of a workout.  Then occasionally I’ll get a call or email I have to respond to, and my whole groove, if that’s what you could call it, gets *switch* interrupted and I can’t remember if I scanned the page that’s in there, or if I still need to. Of course *switch* the lovely government-restricted program I have doesn’t allow me to see the document and add to it. I know, you are jealous of my fun, aren’t you?  I can see it in your eyes! *switch*

So what’s going on? i hear you ask urgently…well, a lot of the same and nothing really new, I suppose.  Work is work.  It’s not ideal.  It’s not something I jump out of bed and look forward to on a daily basis.  But it still pays the bills, so I still show up, albeit more and more tired, and recently in more pain.  I’m thinking the Lyme is flaring up again, but intently driving that thought from my mind because I really don’t want to deal with all that.  Instead, I am convincing myself that it is a combination of my lack of sleep (even 7 hours a night isn’t cutting it lately), my lack of exercise (aka, totally my own fault), and my poor diet (again, totally my own fault).  That way, I can believe that if I choose to change those controllable variables I will feel better.  That makes my pain my choice which sounds strange, I know.  But if it’s my choice, I can change it whenever I want.  If it’s simply a symptom of a deeper, unfixable health issue, I can’t do a damn thing about it.  Choice seems better.

Like the choice to walk away from your kid and a great opportunity for a reason that you don’t want to share…yeah.  That’s a choice.  Not me…Mrs. X.  In our latest adventure, she has given two weeks notice that she is moving “back home,” which in this case is a 14 hour drive away, and leaving the step-girl here with us.  The latter part of that I’m simply thrilled about.  I love her to pieces (the step-girl, that is) and can’t wait to have her be a full time part of our household.  I truly believe the stability and family dynamic that we hold dear will be nothing but positive for her in these last couple years of her developmental youth as well.  However (comma) I am not thrilled about Mrs. X apparent abandonment of her daughter in these previously mentioned developmental youth years.  Expecially when the step-girl is 1) very attached to her mother, and 2) very convinced that the step-boy is favored over herself at every turn.  Enter the smack in the face when mom sticks around just long enough to see him off to college, then books it to another state, and another family (the boyfriend has two school age kids of his own) to “start her life.” <—–her words, not mine.  I understand that Mrs. X has gotten herself into a very difficult situation, the key words being gotten herself into,  by leaving her second husband, not having a job for the last 18 years, getting used to a certain lifestyle…but just as she has the silver plattered opportunity to turn it all around….she’s out.  See, she tends to spend more than she makes, and quite frankly she makes whatever child support we give her, so shopping sprees, week-long trips, and nights out with the girls go waaay over that.  So now she can’t afford rent.  Ok.  But she just graduated from a local program which paid for her college in exchange for 2 to 3 years of well paid service to a local hospital as a respitory therapist…which should have started 2 months ago…which she put off for 2 months in lieu of the previously mentioned leisure trips…which she is throwing away completely now…which she will have to pay for now.  Did I mention she hasn’t worked in 18 years and can’t afford to pay her rent?  And with the step-girl moving in and the step-boy off to college, 99% under our financial support, btw (she bought him 1 set of sheets and some flip-flops for the shower), she no longer gets that child support check. I wonder if boyfriend knows what he is getting himself into.  All I can say in the end is I hope the step-girl ends up doing ok with all this…

…and that I don’t end up stuck in a conversation with Mrs. X anytime soon, as I can’t guarantee I can hold that teeth-clenched fake smile for very long. 

Mr. W feels kind of helpless in all this.  It’s all pretty forign to him…this ex-drama thing.  Sure, they’ve had their moments over the last 10 years, but nothing like what I’ve dealt with, or what most people deal with.  They’ve always gotten along abnormally well.  That always amazed me.  But over the last two years or so, I’ve watched it go downhill at an alarming pace.  I’ve wondered to myself if it’s me.  I still do…but I want to believe it’s not.  She has a family (and personal) history of mental illness, and maybe that gets worse with age.   Plus, Mr. W hasn’t actively “fathered” on a daily basis in years, until we moved in together…so maybe the renewing of those KSAs (knowledge, skills, and abilities) has brought him to a different place.  And maybe I have something to do with it somewhere along the lines.  But whatever it is, he’s stressing.  He’s actually having anxiety attacks on a weekly basis, usually immediately following a phone call or interaction with Mrs. X.  He wants to crawl back in his dark hole of non-concern, but I keep draggin him back out.  Is that wrong of me? 

One bright spot is we rarely fight about the ex-men anymore.  He has a better understanding of what I go through on a regular basis (yep, still going on) and why and how I pick my battles.  Although, he still has more of the methodology to learn…not just how to pick the battles, but what to do with the stress associated with the whole process (hence the anxiety attacks).  i had medicinal help to get over that point in my life, when I simply couldn’t step out from under the stress and would often find myself in a ball on the floor under that dark cloud.  He’s not ready to aknowledge that depth of a problem, but he also doesn’t know how to step out from under the cloud.  So…we sit at the crossroads, together (always) and I wait for him to decide which way he wants to go. I’m leaning towards east, but he has to decide for himself, I suppose. And either way, I’ll be with him…

Mr. W’s first wife, step-kids’ mom, (let’s call her Mrs. X) wanted to throw her son, my step-son a graduation party sometime in June. 

Awesome thing to do. 

Unfortunately, she lives in a small apartment, and we live in a big house, so she decided the party is to be at our house.

Ok, still on board.  Makes sense.  Still awesome.

We payed (she’s in a financial hard place, ok, I get it, still ok).  We planned (it’s for the step-boy, she’s a little scatterbrained at times, still ok).  I cooked/grilled (gave me something to do, I like cooking and grilling, would have been nice if someone offered to help, but whatever…not as awesome, but slightly acceptable) The guest list consisted of her cousin, husband and baby; her dear friend and two kids; and about 15 of her other friends. 

This is where I stop being ok.

My best friend, as awesome as she always is to me, made a fantastic graduation cake and stuck around for moral support.  Our neighbors also stopped by for awhile.  But they got there a little before 3 for a 4 o’clock party.  Mrs. X showed up at 330 (even though she was supposed to be over at noon to “decorate”) with the out-of-towners (cousin, friend and kids), hung up some streamers and spend the next hour or so in my house socializing with her people…the people who walked right past me into my house as though it wasn’t.  Mrs. X did come out once to query about what kind of baby food I had around for the little one (my kids are 5 and 7, btw) and was exasperated when the best I could do was applesauce.  Really? 

As 430 came and went, I asked Mr. W when I should start the grill…and when the rest of the people were going to show.  Our (her) starts-at-4pm party apparently turned into a starts-at 630 party, and she forgot to fill us in.  So people start rolling in at 6, 615, 645, 7…the crowd gets bigger.  The kids get more tired.  My stepson is nowhere to be found because he doesn’t actually know many of these people at “his” party.  Exactly 2 of the guests asked to meet to lady of the house, and took time to talk to me and thank us for inviting them…one of which was a gentleman who didn’t know anyone there but his wife and his own son who had been invited by Mrs. X and decided to bring his folks along to the house of someone he didn’t know, for a 17 year old’s graduation party…oh, and he also brought a box full of about 10 bottles of various liquors and recipes for mixed drinks…to a 17 year old’s graduation party…

Around 730, someone brought two bags of corn on the cob and a package of hamburgers to me to cook.  I had turned the grill off, after cooking about 50 kabobos and 20 burgers, but went ahead and relit it, shucked all the corn, wrapped the corn and started to cook, again.  I think someone ate 1 ear of corn that night, and we threw away about 10 burgers.  Meanwhile, the mixed drinks had been dispursed and the “guests” were enjoying my back patio and all the chairs…while Mr. W and I were standing, runnning around, cooking, and basically being treated like the caterers/help.  A couple of the “guests” thought it was funny that one of my dogs was drinking a blue hawaiian.  Mr. W (very politely, I must say) asked that they (the 30 something to 40 something year old guests) not do that.  About 15 minutes later, they did it again.  About 20 minutes after that, my dog was drunk and trying to be part of the probably very entertaining party (I wouldn’t know since I apparently wasn’t invited to my own house) going on out back.  I guess Mrs. X wasn’t thrilled with him being there and began yanking him away by his collar.  Last straw for me.  No more cooking, cleaning up, playing hostess/servant girl to these obnoxious people.  No more corralling the random 2 year old who, during the night, had tackled my daughter trying to take her chalk from her, claimed every one of my kids’ toys were hers, ran up and down the middle of my street, and ran at the cars with a shovel in her hand.  And those were only the things that I personally stopped in the total absence of her parents (who were out back drink ing with the rest of them).  I had Mr. W put the dogs in my step-son’s room for the remainder.  Of course, they whined and cried for the rest of the party, and at some point the drunk one peed on the floor.  Awesome. 

The neighbors left at about 730…when we had estimated the party would have been winding down, not picking up.  And my friend took her little boy home at about 8 and I put my kids to bed.  Of course, both of them were up again as the getting-louder-as-time-went-on party was going on outside my son’s bedroom window and people kept running in and out of the house, being loud.  At 930, I told Mr. W he needed to do something.  I had a migraine from gritting my teeth for the last 4 hours.  My back hurt from standing all day between cooking and serving and not getting a damn chair to sit in… We (including the kids) had to get up early to drive to the airport for my son’s 11am flight to his dad’s for the summer.  And I’d about had enough of the 40 year olds acting like it was one of them that just graduated.  So, Mr. W talked to Mrs. X and I don’t know what she said, but they all  cleared out like it was a police raid to continue the party at someone else’s house.  (I know this because she was yelling from the middle of my street that she “wanted to dance” and everyone “better get to her place,” etc etc)  Of course, only two people said anything to us on the way out…the same two who I had met earlier.  And not one person did anything to help clean up…not even put their own cups or plates in the garbage, not even Mrs. X, which left Mr. W and I cleaning up our front yard, back yard, and garage at 1030 pm.

*whew* Ok, I got it all out.  It may be disjointed, but it was like word-vomit that just needed to come up.  Never again!  I don’t particularly care for Mrs. X.  I don’t particularly know her, admittedly.  But in the last 3 years, I’ve observed what she does to her kids: plays obvious favorites, forgets birthdays and Christmases, puts more priority on her social life than their anything, is intent on being their friend instead of their mother, will not take part in financing either of their college efforts….and what she does to Mr. W: stress, stress, argue, undermine, stress, argue, stress, take advantage of, stress.  She also waltzes in my house on a pseudo-regular basis without so much as aknowledging that I’m there, she calls to ask if she can come by for whatever when she’s already on her way but doesn’t hold back any irritation when I tell her I’m not home or have plans or anything else, she assumes my truck, my van, my house, my husband are at her disposal whenever she wants them.  She is currently using our basement as her own storage closet…which might be ok, maybe, if it wasn’t a bunch of crap!  Seriously, there are boxes of old, broken easter baskets and unopened bags of 25 cent easter grass in there!  And the toys?  My kids aren’t allowed to play with them.  There is a dollhouse and legos that my two are drooling over, but, nope.  Not allowed.  Seriously?  Seriously?? 

But I think I’ve been on my tirade long enough here.  Don’t know if anyone will ever read this, but at least I got it off my chest and out there for the blogoverse, and I feel better.  Thank you!

I got the iMac about two years ago, and boom, now there is Lion, iOS 5, and iCloud…huh?  Every time I get on my iPad, there are updates to my apps staring me in the face.  Phones…well, no, they aren’t phones anymore….they are smartphones, or pda’s, or entire lives trapped in little (not so little) plastic shells with no phone buttons on them…phones are obsolete before you get them home from the store and even waiting two years for that oh-so-crutial upgrade, you still have to shell out a couple hundred dollars to get something new.  My voicemail at work is getting upgraded.  Every website I go to on a regular basis is advertising some new build, version, function, upgrade…  It’s everywhere!  Even simple things like the coffee cups at Starbucks.  Why? 

Now, all that said, if there is some viable reason to upgrade (years since the last one) or make a change (make something better) or fix something…then by all means.  New technology?  I’m all for it, but not at ridiculously inflated costs or extreme inconvenience to my day.  My work voicemail “upgrade” is going to erase everything on my current voicemail, change the access number, and has about 12 more steps to set up.  Really?? 

Funny enough, as I type this, there are people standing in the hall outside my office talking Android and iPhone and next generation this and that.  HA!  That’s another thing that irritates me…now that there is a significant investment involved in all this new-best-thing shopping, how many people waste time weighing whether to get the one that’s out now, or wait for the “next generation” one, or worse than that one of the dozen or so options.  And how do you even know if you will like it?  And how do you know it doesn’t just generally suck??  I have friends that are Blackberry people, and friends who are Windows/Android people, and friends that are Mac people.  But how do you know until you shell out a couple hundred bucks on something that you either love or hate, but are stuck with for the next two years?  And then, there are 5 billion different Windows/Android phones out there…and some of them really suck.  But how do you know until you shell out that money and get it home?  And then it’s too late.  The world of technology has us over a barrel here! 

I just want things that work and work well, and work long enough for me to get bored with them.  I want to dictate when it’s time for an upgrade for me, not because the advertising devils in cahoots with the tech companies said so.  I want my operating system to be compatible with anything I want to use with it.  I want my phone to make calls and access any other app I want, when I want it to.  I want to go on a web page and not have to spend half an hour trying to find something because it’s been “improved.”  I want to walk in a store and find what I’m looking for by sight, not have to read each label to figure out the “new looks” that fill the shelves.  And I want to be able to get all the things I want without having to take out a loan or have an internal debate over waiting for the next-greatest-thing or getting something now. 

We are all overtasked, overstimulated, overindulged, and there isn’t enough time in the day for the “have tos,” let alone all this searching for things and researching new things and figuring out how to use things.  There is much to be said about simplicity and reliability and I’m willing to bet the next-greatest-thing doesn’t have either….

….unless we are talking about Apple products, in which case it’s totally worth it. 

*Keep It Simple, Stupid!

So what’s up with me?  Well, I’m tired as all hell.  The menu (I prefer not to use “diet.”  It sends the wrong message.) is going the way that most of my efforts for self-improvement…straight down the toilet, to put it delicately, of course.    I’m kinda sticking to it…but it’s hard people!  I do so love my carbs.  And with most of our weekends away from the house lately, it’s near impossible to find a place to eat that caters to my menu, my sorta-picky husband, and my very picky-because-they-are-young kids.  Since Mr. W is good with anything the kids like, we basically eat pizza when we are away from home.  Previously: a wonderful thing.  I mean, who doesn’t loooooove pizza?  But now, no processed carbs = no pizza.  (Also, no spaghetti, no burgers, no sandwiches, no chocolate, no soda, no….  in case you were keeping track, because I sure am!)  Also, just regular eating at home and work is a royal pain in the patooty.  Mr. W has limited me to grocery shopping only on the weekends, which is for my own good and I thank him for it.  But that means, with our weekend travel, there has been little to no shopping done.  I haven’t even been able to hit up the Shwan’s guy in over a month!  I have a few carb-less staples lying around, but there is only so much salad and tuna I can take!  Actually, I think I may go off eating altogether if I have to choke down another salad.  And I so used to enjoy my veggies…*sigh*  …but at least we are saving money in that area…

…Mr. W just called…from Midas…apparently the brakes need done, the tires need rotating and balancing, the belts are worn, and the thingy that keeps them tight is just broken.  (That would explain all the noise coming from under the hood, I suppose.)  $500+ later… And that’s only my car.  The van, well, we know that needs some work.  The oil change is about 6000 miles overdue, the rear passenger door automatic locks are no longer automatic, the overhead/dome lights are out, and the blinker-turn-off-after-a-turn function is no longer functioning.  I’m sure there are at least one or two more things to add to that list once a mechanic gets hold of it.  All that gets added to the $1500+ that we spent on it this past winter for brakes, tires, and other stuff.  Awesome!  Just when we think we have a handle on the money stuff… well, not too much of a handle.

The step-boy is going to college!  Yea?  Well, yeah, yea!  But a little ? too…he’s chosen in all his worldly wisdom (mostly influenced by his mom) a private college in New York.  And at $40,000+ per year, out of the Mr. & Mrs. W pockets, yeah, that should be fun.  Not so bad in and of itself, however, there are three other children in the Mr. & Mrs W household which will also be college-bound-and-funded solely from the Mr. & Mrs. W pockets, one of which is two short years behind her brother.  The other two, well, I don’t even want to think about what college will cost then!  (Oh, and that $500 spent today, and the $1500+ spent last winter…that’s all college fund fodder spent on not-college, btw.)  So, $160,000 times 4 kids (and that’s being optimistic), anyone want to do the math on that one?  Better question: anyone want to donate to that one?! 

And as the proverbial cherry on top…I am a government employee, ergo, I may not be receiving a pay check starting next week!  Yep, government shutdown = employee furlough = Writebrite doesn’t get paid!  Mr. W works in a government facility supporting government folks, but is a government contractor…so hopes are that he will still bring home some bacon since the contracts are paid upfront.  We shall see.  Hopefully our landlords are understanding…and our bill collectors…and our utility companies…….  And it really kind of blows since next week was supposed to be a mini-getaway for Mr. W and I.  There is a within-driving-distance-but-far-enough-to-justify-a-hotel conference that I’m going to near Mr. W’s workplace.  Arrangements for the kiddos have been made for the week, so it is/was supposed to be just the two of us in the evenings, in a civilized area with *gasp* restaurants and stuff, and the conference should be pretty cool too.  Interesting topic with an added bonus of MASSIVE networking opportunities for me for finding a job up there in civilized world with Mr. W.  Then we move to the city, make lots of money and live happily ever after.    …theoretically…  But now, with this “government shutdown” possibility looming, I probably won’t even get to go to that.    I can’t even remember the last time I was excited to go to work, and suddenly even that has been ripped away…maybe…possibly…

So, yeah.  That’s what is going on here.  I guess even in all my brain-gone-ness I can still bitch-n-moan with the best of ‘em!

But every now and then, just when I think I’ve got them separated from my life, I find myself face to face with someone who slipped under the radar.  That dicernable, and waaay to familiar look comes over them as they stare back at me.  I find myself asking “how did I get here, again?  How did I not know?  How the heck am I going to get out of this gracefully?!”  Interior dialog, of course.  It’s a little scary, I’ll admit.  In the past, I’ve been shoulder-deep in the situation when it happens and then there is some serious floundering to get out of that dark water.  At other levels, I usually smile it off, as I do in most uncomfortable situations.  Maybe not the best approach, but it has worked out fairly well for me so far.  But the whole thing still leaves that shadow of ickiness all over me.  Maybe it’s memories.  Maybe it’s survival instinct.  Either way, the shadow is there, and I loathe it. 

I get that sometimes people are just crazy.  I get that sometimes people just have moments which are fed from external sources.  Lord knows, I get that!  But it feels like such a slap in the face when I’m on the recieving end.  Like, seriously?  What makes you think that you can do this to me?  What gives you the right to cross into my life and take such liberties with my comfort?  Who the hell do you think you are?!  My “zen thoughts” of “maybe they are having a bad day or maybe they’re dog just got hit by a car or maybe there’s been a death in the family,” a.k.a. excuses for others’ bad behaviour, go right out the window as soon as that sick feeling enters my stomach; as soon as I start looking for my way out while watching my words and actions waaay to closely.  As soon as that shadow starts creeping over me.

But, it happens.  It will continue to happen, I’m sure.  And I will walk around with random shadows of ick and deal.  But, really.  You think I would have learned!

It lays out like this:

• 430am – wake up
• 530am (or within an hour of waking) – breakfast: drink an Ultra Meal shake (meal replacement stuff)
• 830am – snack 1: nuts and fruit
• 1130am – lunch: as many category 1 veggies as I want (picture just about anything green, oh, and tomatoes), a legume (peas or beans), a lean protein, and oil/vinegar dressing, if needed (think big salad)
• 230pm – snack 2: same as snack 1, or string cheese and fruit
• 530pm – dinner: as many category 1 veggies as I want, a protein, and one category 2 veggie (potatoes, carrots, or squash)
• 830pm – snack 3: hummus with a category 1 veggie OR 100% whole wheat crackers (my only saving moment)
• Drinks: all the water I can drink, of course, or decaffeinated, herbal tea (no sugar).

Sounds ok off the top, I’ll admit..but day 1 made me rethink that.  WHERE ARE THE CARBS???  The bread, the rice, the pasta!  Oh, woe is me!  No chocolate, no dessert, no coffee (ok, I’m cheating here a bit in the morning), no soda!  And my lists of approved foods in each of the above areas?  No bananas, no corn, and who knew carrots were so high in sugar that they qualify for a category 2 veggie, which I’m only allowed at dinner.  Oh, and that baked or sweet potato at dinner?  No butter, no sour cream, probably no cheese but I’ve been sprinkling on a bit anyway.  And to top it all off, I have two little kids and a husband already on a diet that are in no way willing to give up all those yummy things.

My doc said if I’m starving each day to call him and we’d tweak it a little, but I’m not.  After all I can eat as many veggies as I want at lunch and dinner.  It’s the comfort factor I’m not getting.  The texture in my mouth of that yummy, starchy, carby stuff I so miss.  The overstuffed, gorgefest fullness that is missing.  But I’m not hungry. 

And the very worst part?  I. feel. better.  Yep.  I admit it.  I do feel better.  Mornings are still rough, but not as.  I’m still not sleeping great, but better.  But during the day is where it really shows.  I don’t feel as moody.  I’m more cheerful (except at dinner time when I’m making my salad and potato, and some carby yum-fest for the rest of the clan).  I’m not falling asleep at my desk or on my drive home, or even on my drive to work in the morning.  I haven’t had a headache since I started, and my body feels good.  So much so that Mr. W noticed the change in the first couple of days.  Dammit!  I can’t even justify chucking it all and eating a pb&j.  And I have never wanted a pb&j so much in my life! 

I have a follow-up with the doc on Friday at which point he allows me to add some of that yumminess back in to my diet.  Fingers crossed!  I don’t think I can choke down another salad if my life depended on it!

But what do I do?  I make really good money here.  And it’s government, so the job security is phenomenal.  How do I walk away from all that and start over?  But then again, how do I stomach this for the next 20 years or so??  I long for change, for sunshine, for creativity, for like-minded people to spend my 8 hours a day with.  (Of course sitting my ass at home all day as a SAHM would work just fine too…COME ON POWERBALL!!)  But really.  Starting out all over again in something new, albeit better, is downright scary.  Of course, there is also the consideration of where I live.  Washington DC and the surrounding areas are not exactly a hub of creative culture.  New York, California, Chicago…I bet I could do just fine there.  But DC?  Not so much.  When I think of DC I think of black, or at the best dark grey suits, government officials, politics…what is fun, sunny, or creative-minded about any of that?  Even my monster.com search supported my theory.  There are exactly 6 Graphics Designer jobs listed in the surrounding area.  And exactly ZERO of them are entry-level.  Oh, and 2 of the are GOVERNMENT Graphics Design Jobs and 1 is political.  Not exactly what I’m looking for. 

I visit the Academy of Art University’s site at least once a week (usually for a break from my homework) and fantasize about their offerings.  I dream of working for Google, or Disney, or Apple…ooooh, Apple!  And how I would never wake up in the morning searching for any minute excuse to stay home for the day.  I dream about having a satisfying career, not just a secure, well-paying job.  I dream of giving my kids a happy mommy and positive role model for their future career choices, not just someone who brings home a check and buys them stuff.

But then I think, “who the hell am I up on my high-and-mighty horse?”  How dare I complain about what I have when there are so many that are struggling to survive in this economy, and in life!  How can I fathom the possibility of cutting our family income with 4 kids to support and put through college?  How can I justify giving up the job security and all the work I’ve put in to get where I am today?  I guess I’m moderately selfish in a way.  I want happiness and job satisfaction along with my security and paycheck. 

So I put it out to the universe (and the web-iverse):  What do I do?  (Comments on this one will be greatly appreciated…)  Do I do the best I can with what I’ve got, quit whining, suck it up, and just be the best darn Safety Analyst I can be?  Or do I chuck it all and explore my creative side, gambling all I’ve got for a bit of sunshine in my day?

So the other night, the boy was being a royal pain in the ass.  Attitude galore.  All night.  Whatever I said to him prompted something just short of an eye roll, a sigh, and a whole lot of back talk.  Mr. W and I went out on the porch for a smoke.  True to form, the boy popped his head out the door about 30 seconds after we lit up to ask if he could play on the computer.  I said no, since he already knew he would be going to bed shortly.  And the sighs and arguing began, to which I responded…are you ready for it?  “Stop giving me shit.”  Yep, I said that.  To my kid.  What the hell?!  I looked at Mr. W, who was staring at me in disbelief while gathering his fallen jaw from the floor, and said how I couldn’t believe I just said that to  my kid!  It just fell out! 

Then, last night, I’m pretty sure I called the boy a douche bag.  I didn’t mean to.  I think I meant to say dork or something of the sort.  He was being totally goofy and cute at bed time.  But again, it just fell out.  “Ha, ha! You’re such a douche bag!”  Really?!  Mother of the year right here! 

My son’s going to have a complex!  Well, one of many.  He may also grow up to believe being smart is a bad thing, because mommy constantly tells him to “stop being smart.”  I intend to say stop being a smart ass, but luckily, I guess, the ass rarely makes it out of mouth. 

I used to watch Bill Cosby’s old standup when I was younger.  I loved it, but never really, really got all the jokes until I became a mom and a wife.  Now, yeah, I get it.  The chocolate cake for breakfast.  The husband who does everything wrong just so he won’t have to do it ever again.  And the crazy parents who can’t complete a sentence because they are editing out all the bad stuff.  Yep…I get it.  I just haven’t gotten full proficient at the editing part.  Douche bag! 

I haven’t cleaned anything…except the dishes. Once. And that was mostly because I was hungry, we were out of paper plates, and two forks and a cup had already grown legs and run away together.  And I’ve read.  Oh how I’ve read.  Two Christmases ago, when Grandma and Grampa visited for the Holidays, or alternately when Santa first discovered my love for laziness, I read 3 of the 4 Twilight books in less than a week.  This year, it’s been the Hunger Games books.  Yes, yes, I know.  I pretend to be cool, but deep down I’m some girl-geek who thrives on teen angst books, vamps, and the occasional Sci-fi series thrown in..Ender’s Game anyone? 

Of course, last night I kind of flipped out on the step-kids about the state of the house, even though I totally acknowledge that I am as much to blame as anyone, but then again I’ve been at work all week, but not really all week because I was snowed in on Monday and have left early every day since, but still I’m getting up early for a hard day, well not really hard since there is no one in the office and I’ve just been searching for the end of the internet and reading.  See.  Reading is the downfall of humanity.  Maybe.  Or it’s groundhogs.  Seriously, think about it.  They are everywhere.  Under ground.  Burrowing and such.  They could be under you right now, plotting the world’s destruction.  “Just one more tunnel, Captain, and the whole thing will collapse.”  Isn’t that a scary thought?  Groundhogs creep me out.  It’s like the end of the Incredibles, with the evil mole villain with the voice of that guy from Cheers that’s in every Disney/Pixar movie…Hamm (Toy Story), Mack (Cars), John (Wall-E) The Abominable Snowman (Monsters, Inc), the flea guy from Bugs Life…anyway…the Underminer, obviously evil.  Like groundhogs.  Whatever happened to The Incredibles anyway.  I liked that movie.  The mom yelled a lot and made me feel better about myself as a functioning mother…..

…See, this is what happens when I get lazy(…er).  My mind wanders.  I should go chase it now.  Or finish my book.