Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Natural Causes (of pain and insanity)

Self Portrait As A Stressed-Out Bride To BeImage by BrittneyBush via Flickr
I'm pretty sure I'm dying.

Yesterday, I woke up after two overnight charley-horses.  The first one was in the middle of the night and struck my hamstrings; the second hit my calf just as I was getting out of bed.  So, I brilliantly decided that I needed potassium and took one along with my morning vitamins and Prilosec OTC.

Then I got to work busting my ass cleaning the house cause it looked like a ghetto shack, a tornado landed and did all it's damage inside my house, somewhere CPS would take children from, a disaster, and I also had to work on my 15-20 slide PowerPoint presentation for medical language class...

Which, btw, I thought I had a week to do.  Cause I'm logical like that I don't plan for shit nowhere in the syllabus that I read briefly the first week of class and have barely looked at since did it ever say that a rough draft of this presentation would be due on TUESDAY after a separate, completely different 12 slide PowerPoint presentation assignment that was due on Sunday.

I was a little stressed... I thought.

It turns out that I was a lot stressed.

So I went through the house like Mr Clean on crystal meth for about five hours straight.

My new House Beautiful came in, and I didn't even open the cover!  That's serious dedication yo!

When I was down to the last three or four two loads of dishes that were just cups I totally cleaned out all the coffee mugs and that's all that matters any damn way, and the last of the laundry was in the dryer never to be seen again, I stopped the housework and got to working on my presentation that I hadn't even started yet around 6 pm.

I worked on it for 5 hours straight.

I didn't notice that hubby was watching Avatar again are you fucking kidding me?!? or that the A/C was blowing dead on me as I collected pictures and their references to create my big-ass, 250 point, 20 slide presentation.

Until about 11:30.

When my right trapezoid muscle contracted...strongly.

For those of you without medical terminology under your belt, the muscle between my neck and the back of my shoulder knotted up so severely that I wanted to kill myself immediately cry and it felt like my arm would drop off my body.

I stopped the computer work and took two Tylenol cause we've been out of Advil for two months weeks and two more potassium because I figured that my shoulder locking up like a Brinks truck was an extension of the charley-horse thing I had in the morning.  After two more hours of pain, and a massage from hubby that didn't help at all and you're fucking hurting me you ham-handed Goliath, I said rub out the muscle, not pinch it together more *bleeeeeeeppp*!!! was very sweet of him to do, I went to bed.

A little side note here.  I got new pillows at Anna's cause they were cheap and because the old ones were completely collapsed, and because the first time I went to buy them, hubby told me, "No." so I decided that the collapsed pillows were the Antichrist and went back and bought the new pillows as soon as I had money in my hot little hand.  Except I bought king-sized pillows cause I'm an idiot and they're too big for the queen-sized bed, and they slide out from under my head and there is no way that I'm going to admit that I hate hate hate don't like the pillows cause they were a revenge purchase.

So when I woke up this morning, my head had slid off the pillow there's a fucking shocker *grumble* piece of shit pillows *grumble* and I was laying on my right side.  So now I have a crick in my neck and my left shoulder has locked up too cause it didn't want to be left out.

Did I mention that although I got the images and the general idea for the storyboard, I have about ten slides left to write.

Ten little scripts that include no less than 3 medical terms from each of the other 8 chapters and I need to incorporate a total of 45 (minimum) medical terms into the presentation, so that actually equates to 5 words apiece from each of the nine chapters.

And I've only had about 6 hours of sleep and now I can't remember if I took my vitamins and Prilosec and Tylenol and potassium with my first cup of coffee because I'm on my second cup.


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Monday, June 21, 2010

Dragged by Wild Facebook Horses

Wild HorsesImage by gem66 via Flickr
Do you ever just feel drug-out?

Like maybe you forgot to take your B vitamin this morning, but you are sure you did, cause you pulled a total witless-wonder by getting your Prilosec pill out of that blister-pac over the garbage can and it popped right into the trash so you vividly remember being super-careful with the rest of the vitamins and Excedrin that you had to take for the Headache That Ate Manhattan you woke up with.

Do you?  Or is that just me?

Along with just realizing that you haven't accepted a single facebook request since Thursday, and now it's Monday so you have what seems like 1400 of them to go through.

I know that's not just me.  

Every facebooker has had that experience.

And it takes so unbelievably long to go through all of those requests, that you swear you're NEVER EVER EVER EV-AR going to let them pile up again as long as you live, or until facebook deactivates your account; whichever comes first.

But then a  week few months go by and you do it again.  And you realize on day two that those requests are piling up, but it already seems like too much work, so you don't even bother till day four and then it takes longer to answer all the requests than it does to slow-cook a 30 pound brisket.

So, you already feel all blah, then you say to yourself, "What the hell, it's not like I've got anything more pressing to do, let me get rid of these *bleeping* requests before it gets any worse!"  And the blahness of answering a buttload of facebook requests makes you feel even more blah,and this is where the whole cyclical blahness comes into play.

Because let's face it, requests stop becoming 'gifts' when they number more than 10.  After that, they're a pain in the ass.

And that's even for games you like to play, or networking or any of the other billion apps that looked like so much fun or seemed like such a good idea when you started doing them... you know back when you were in the full throws of health and caffeine and vitamin B-complex. 

Which only exacerbates the recognition of how blah you feel today as opposed to other days.  Until you feel like you've been dragged by wild facebook horses through your 'relaxation' time, and it turns out to not be all that relaxing, but more like another chore on the to-do list.  

And relaxation time that isn't relaxing in the slightest sucks basketballs through a garden hose... and not in the good way.  

Cause blah feeds into more blah and before you know it you're clinically depressed and eating entire tubs of Breyer's and telling yourself that it won't effect your ability to fit into your mu-mu.

OK, that too, might just be me.

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Friday, June 18, 2010

This Year for Father's Day...

This year for Father's Day, I'm going to give hubby the best presents ever.

I'm going to wash, dry, fold, and put away all of the laundry so when he takes a shower he won't have to dig in the hamper of clean clothes to get dressed.  

I won't even complain about the condition of the bathroom when he is finished.

I'm going to give him the big cup of coffee.

I'm going to clean the house on Saturday so he'll have dishes to eat off of, glasses to drink from, a clean floor to walk across, and somewhere to sit on the couch.

I'm going to take him to Denny's so he can eat all the eggs and sausage and bacon he wants without hearing me bitch about doing the dishes again.

But, I'll let him drive so I don't give him heart-failure.  I also won't ask where he's going or correct him on how to get there.

Then, I'll take our son out for a while so he can jam to his music at airplane-engine decibel levels without having to concern himself with the future deafness of the boy.

When we come back, I'll cook for him so he can dine on something other than leftover microwaved BBQ.

I'll let him choose a non-animated movie.

And I won't vacuum if he takes a nap.

I'll take Jas every 4.3 minutes to the bathroom because he says he has to pee even when he doesn't because he just wants to flush the potty.

I won't kick him off the computer because I have to "do something right quick, and it's important".

I'll let him know that sex is an option, but by no means mandatory.

I'll kill my own spiders and tree roaches without screaming like a limb is being amputated without anesthesia.

I won't eat potato chips in front of him, because he's on the Atkins diet.

I won't roll my eyes and make little huffy noises when he makes me crazy.

All that, and a card too.  What more could a Dad want for Father's Day?  See, best presents Ever!

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Thursday, June 17, 2010

Somewhere Between Dedicated and ADD

Tomb Raider's Lara Croft become a video game s...Image via Wikipedia
I want to update my blog.  I even had a couple of ideas, but they all stemmed from other things that I had written for various reasons to various people or for various assignments.  OK, now I've overdosed on the word various.

I think I operate somewhere between ADD & dedicated.  It may depend on the people I'm surrounded with... or it's just cause sometimes I'm really obsessive! No, neurotic. No, well yes, but not in this way... wait maybe I am. Obsessive is actually more accurate but overused. interested (such as when I read a Malcolm Gladwell book in 24 hours or less), and other times I couldn't give a shit if I had 6 bran muffins and a pot of coffee.

Like now, I have an assignment due for my medical language class.  The thing about this particular class, since I'm taking all of my classes on the Internet, is that I have to do audio submissions to particular questions and the responses to my classmates.  I am sure this is because the teacher needs to make sure that we are capable of saying the words correctly.  I mean, some of these words are uber-super-complicated with syllables that make my tongue tie into knots worthy of waist-length, conditioner-free blond hair.  You know, words like choledocholithiasis... or nostril.  It really just depends on the chapters we're doing that week.

And right now, because I detest the sound of my own voice, I have six tabs open and just realized I need to open another to check my email and yet another to make sure the house I want is still listed, and when I get the dialogue script written in the Word document I have open in the other window, I will have to open another window to record it.  Oh look!  Calista Flockheart and Harrison Ford got married.  I should send them a congratulations email and a gift.

I may have situational ADD.  It's a highly specialized form of ADD; probably not, but that's what I'm telling people.  It's SO special, they don't even make drugs for it yet... well, not legal ones anyway. Take that Bloggess!

And I know why so many kids are diagnosed with ADD now; They're In School!  Fucking Duh!  If they were tested by having to sit in front of a Road-Warrior-of-Stolen-Cars-and-Guns-and-Hot-Lara-Croft-Looking-Drug-Whores-on-a-Search-for-the-Princess-and-the-Treasure-While-Eluding-Cops-and-Goblins video games, the numbers would be much, much lower.  Someone is going to take that idea and make a million bucks off that game; I better copyright this.

And would you look at this house?  I just Wonder-Woman cleaned it on Monday, how the hell is it such a disaster already?  Oh, yeah, it's Thursday.  I need to hurry up and get off this computer and clean this ghetto shack.  And damn, I stink!  I need a shower, but I should clean first cause housework makes me all sweaty.  But first, I really need to update my blog so I can comment on Bloggess and get the backlink and do the homework and update my facebook status and call my sister and it's already almost 3 pm.  

I'm exhausted.

Maybe I should just go back to bed.

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Monday, June 14, 2010

A Good 'Ole Gibbs-Style Slap to the Skull

NCIS - Leroy Jethro GibbsImage via Wikipedia
I think I may have to start a new series.  Those that need a good old, NCIS Leroy Jethro Gibbs style slap to the skull.

I know I've mentioned before that my idea of relaxation is perusing the real estate ads.  

Online is SO much fun, because now I can go through the listings and check out the multiple pictures and map where the house is, and really figure out which home I can obsess over for weeks want.  

However, I have a few problems with the way a lot of homes are being built.  And the super-kicker is how much they want for these homes that contain, to my mind:  Major Design Flaws.  As in, spending serious money to remodel, design flaws.  Now whenever I see one of these I stop looking at the house.  Hey Jack, it's not edgy, it's stupid.

Take this for example:

Do you see the problem yet?  It might take a minute, but as a mom of a toddler, it hit's me the second I look; you got it...   


I see second or third-degree burns in my son's future with that set-up.  And they're popping up All Over!  What dumbass came up with this idea?!?  Whoever they are, they need to go to designer hell.

Or how about this slick 'modern' bathroom:

Do you see the problem here?  They have spent all the time and money on creating this nice bath area, which is fine, I like a bath a few times a week...  


And here they've given the occupant a shower the size of a sardine can!  If you wash your butt, you're sure to hit your elbow on the door and pop it open, or with the other arm, slam your elbow against the tile. I am not Twiggy or Kate Moss, people!  I want room to put my arms above my head (you know, for shampooing my hair!) without damaging myself.  And God forbid I put a detachable shower head in there!  It will come out so far that I'll be unable to stand under the spray unless I back all the way against the wall.  

And I see hundreds of homes with both of these problems Every Time I Look!  Is it really too much to ask for a stove away from where my children will sit or a shower big enough to change my mind in?  Edgy doesn't mean, make it so dangerous that the occupant walks the edge of damaging themselves every time they use one of the main functions of a room!

Can we line up everyone who has designed a home with these particular design flaws and give them all a huge NCIS Leroy Jethro Gibbs style slap to the back of the head, please!


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Thursday, June 10, 2010

What I'm Supposed to be Doing... *UPDATED*

The film's famous sequence where Jack sticks h...Image via Wikipedia

I'm supposed to be writing my introduction and conclusion for my final essay in research writing. I'm having trouble concentrating because hubby is watching some horrible movie with either aliens or dead people communicating with 'normal people' and there's a whole lot of screaming and scary music. Predictably, the cop doesn't believe the victim and her world is ending.

I hate that crap.

Scary movies are not my thing.

I have trouble concentrating on writing about anything, much less the propaganda machine that is American media when I'm confronted with terrified shrieks and music that reminds me of The Shining.

That movie scarred me forever and ever, Amen.

Hotels kinda freak me out, especially if I'm the only one walking down a hallway. Rum instantly translates to redrum in my mind. And you couldn't pay me enough to go into a shrubbery maze, unless you paid me enough to buy the land it was on so I could have it torn it down while I recuperated from my mental breakdown.

Halloween made me scared to babysit.

Omen made me leery of 10 year-old brunette boys with blue eyes and doberman pincers.

The Exorcist turned me off pea soup.

Poltergeist made me set the sleep timer on the television so there would never be snow on the screen, and check all my meals for maggots.

Scream made me afraid to go out to the garage for more beer, and thankful that I didn't need to go into school bathrooms anymore.

Thanks to Silence of the Lambs, I assess the motives of anyone that invites me to dinner.

And yet, I wound up in Texas with a man that owns a chainsaw.

Hubby loves those movies.

I, however, love Godfather I & II and Goodfellas and Casino. Hubby hates those movies. He doesn't 'get' them. I understand that he has no context for those movies. I understand that movies these days require an explosion every 3.6 seconds, and by comparison, Godfather seems 'slow'. Because back when those movies came out, the storyline, the dialogue and plot progressed the story, not the number of times things could be blown to smithereens or how many of the central characters could be made to bleed or scream.

I gravitate towards comedies, because I want to fill my life with laughter and use movies as happy escapes.

Maybe if I focus my essay on how the word 'terror' was used by the media during the Bush administration I could write my essay. Or maybe I should just wait till this movie is over and insist on watching The Hangover to rid my mind of the ugliness that is currently forced upon me.

Or maybe, when he goes outside to BBQ later, I will confiscate every scary movie in the house and hide them somewhere he'll never find them... with the dish detergent.

**UPDATED** OK, not really sure what the heck just happened there, but this post disappeared and I had to re-post it~ Which is why, kiddies, you always email yourself a copy of your blog posts! Since I had to go all deja-vu this morning, I decided to enhance the post with a picture that will make your skin crawl for the rest of the day. Cause I'm AWESOME like that!

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Monday, June 7, 2010

For a While I Didn't Think I Was Still Me, But I Totally Am

So I had the big revelation. And the vision. And got the purpose.

And I'm still here.

And that bright, shiny, happy person lasted about a month ~ give or take a week or two.

And then I read Barefoot Foodie and The Bloggess and got inspired, but didn't want to write here cause I said that I was done here.

I started a controlled, cuss-free, spiritual blog for the new me, that I didn't really publicize cause I had no idea what the heck to write there.

I wrote two posts.

One was an introduction; the other said I'd quit smoking (again) forever.

I'm smoking again. I'm irritable again. I yell again. I laugh inappropriately at things that aren't funny to anyone with a sense of common decency. I'm a little less angry. Kind of. I argue with my husband again.

My vision hasn't come true yet. I still haven't hit the lotto. I still hate housework and have no dishwasher. My give-a-damn depends on the day. I'm getting sick of facebook.

I'm still me. My 'reputation' may be more tarnished toward the crazy side, but I'm still me. And I miss writing something other than research papers... and the processes of the different systems of the body (criminitly! It's a medical LANGUAGE class, lady, not med school!)

So, I'm back, if y'all will still have me. I can't promise punctuality. I can't promise weekly rants or features, but I'll be around.

And, fair warning... I'm still me.

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