Daily Post 0100: Healing / Recouping

Not much to report. I made it through Saturday. Having to work helped. I gamed most of Sunday. My character is almost to the point of getting her mount so I won’t have to run around like a peasant for much longer. Woo. Too bad there’s like… a billion hours worth of cutscenes to get through first because it’s Final Fantasy and every Final Fantasy game has a billion hours of cutscenes. ;-;

Right Brain: I don’t care about your storyline. Give me my mount damnit!

I woke up feeling less heavy today. I showered and had an egg sandwich, not caring about eating bread and how carbs are bad and blah blah blah. I wanted an egg sandwich so I had one. I wanted to cook a warm breakfast instead of heating up premade stuff in the microwave so I did it. It didn’t feel like a horribly heavy undertaking to “do” something, so I did what I felt would make me… content? Happy isn’t the right word and I’m not sure content is either.

It helped warm a part of me that’s been hurting for the last week or so. I did something familiar. The routine of cracking the eggs, adding garlic, toasting the toast as the eggs cook so things progress smoothly and efficiently. Unfortantently there wasn’t coffee made yet and I don’t like messing with the coffee maker since it’s not mine, but even without a cup of warm coffee, it was still a nice breakfast which I enjoyed.

The kids weren’t here. Papa Ox was in the computer room and even though Mama Ox was home since she’s not feeling well, she was in her room watching TV so I got to sit by myself at the dining room table instead of standing in the kitchen like I normally do. It was quiet and I… enjoyed my morning. Yes… I think enjoyed is the right word and though it’s not the first morning I’ve enjoyed since Saturday and Sunday were also enjoyable, it was the first time in a long time that I’ve been able to enjoy it alone. I enjoyed the solitude of it as much as I enjoyed eating something relatively healthy and warm and familiar and comforting.

I went to training today which is the main reason I ate breakfast. It went well. The beginning was rough since my muscles were stiff from not doing a whole lot since Thursday. By the end of my session, I was warmed up and ready to go. I was sort of disappointed when it had to end. It felt like I had just hit my stride. I can still go to the gym near home and run or do weights or a workout through one of the apps I have, and I might, but I’m also aware that right now my energy levels are very tentative and fickle and I don’t want to give myself an obligation that could turn around and make me feel bad later for not getting done. I would rather leave it open-ended and see how things go.

I’ve already put the clothes away. That happened before leaving for the gym since I needed to find workout clothes. It’s a nice feeling to know I’ve already been slightly productive this morning. The only thing I have left which “should” get done is cooking the roast that I cut up for my breakfasts. Currently, I’m waiting for the oven to preheat all the way. From there it’s simply a matter of putting the roast in the oven and waiting. Not much else is required on my end. So, in theory, today should be a low key day, which I’m perfectly ok with and I think would do a lot for me as far as continuing to recover from the most recent struggle with my grief.

The kids are back now, so a lot of the whole recharge thing sort of depends on how occupied they’re able to keep themselves. There’s a part of me who knows that when they leave again I’ll be hard on myself for not being more involved. For not handling my introvertedness better. For not being a better parent even though I’m not one. It’s confusing, but in this moment, I’m ok with them doing their own thing while I do mine.

One of my patients had a seizure yesterday. It was the first time I was on the front line for an emergency situation. In Orlando, there was the rest of my team who had way more experience than me. It was easier for me to tend to the other patients, respond to machine alarms, prep for the next shift, and so on. I was more helpful by not being in the way and making sure everything else didn’t fall apart while my team members were busy handling whatever situation was going on.

At my current clinic, it’s just me and the RN. There isn’t anyone else. I have to help. So yesterday was my first experience of being involved rather than watching from a distance.

At the time it wasn’t scary. I think I handled it well. I feel like I was helpful. Once the situation was stabilized I went back to making sure everything else was taken care of. Post weights were charted. Machines were wiped down with bleach rags and reset for the next patient. I had done the most I could do so I went back to taking care of what needed to get done. I did what was within my scope of practice.

It wasn’t until I had finally driven home and called Jon that I broke down into tears. This particular patient is one of my favorites. He’s so quiet, but every once in a while there will be a joke and he’ll smile or give a small laugh and you know it’s genuine. It warms something inside me. I know he doesn’t want to be at the clinic. I know being on dialysis is hard for him. I could see it in his eyes every time his needles would act up in the beginning when his fistula was still new. The look of hopelessness. Of borderline despair that you have to keep hidden because you’re not at home and you can’t break down in front of people. You have to be strong and hold it together but you’re so tired of being strong and why can’t it just work? Why did it have to be you?

Getting him to smile means that I made his day just a little brighter. I made the whole situation a little less shitty.

I felt him not be there. The absence of whatever energy it is that people have within them. Using words like “feel” and “soul” are very INFJy and make me feel vulnerable because I know that leaves me open for people to say things like it’s in my head or not real. At the same time, I know myself and I know what I felt and coming home to process through the situation was something I needed to do even though it sucked.

I called Jon because I needed to talk to someone who could understand. I don’t have nursing friends. Most of the people I talk to aren’t in the medical field, and so when I need to talk about work stuff I don’t have much of a support network aside from my brother. I never got a chance to talk to mom about things like this because when she was an RN I was teaching Computer Animation and still passed out at the sight of blood. In a way, it’s humbling to realize how far I’ve come, how much I’ve changed, in such a short amount of time.

While I was on the phone with Jon he mentioned that I most likely really wanted to talk to mom right now, to which I answered yes. I wanted to ask her how she did it. How many times did she come home and cry over a patient dying or having a shitty diagnosis? How many times did I not know she was having a hard day, a shit day that there was nothing anyone could do to make it better because sometimes that’s just life? As a healer, you can only do so much. Everyone is still mortal and to an extent, you have no control over anything. All you can do is your best and understand that even though it doesn’t feel like enough, it is.

I want to have her perspective and insight and I can’t. I can never have answers to those questions now and it sucks. At least, I can’t have her answers and those are the ones I truly want.

Jon said he was the second best I could get. He didn’t mean it in a bad way even though second best sounds bad. He was being honest and he’s a pretty damn good second best. We both understand no one will ever be able to beat mom. Ever. That’s just the way it works, and he gets it because I’m the same way. He calls me when he wants to talk to mom because I’m the closest he has just like he’s the closest I have.

He said he’s never been in a situation like what I was in, but having been a CNA on an oncology floor, he’s seen patients go from “good to dead” as he worded it, so while he doesn’t know the exact feelings of watching someone you care about experience a seizure, in a way he understands the feelings of “why this person?”

It helped to talk with him. It helped to hear him say that it sounded like I kept my cool and did what needed to be done and that in his opinion I handled the situation professionally. It helped to hear his voice and to move on to talking about normal life and what he’s been up to and our upcoming trip.

By the time I was off the phone I was more ok with going back inside and figuring out dinner and being around the family without having the weight of “no one knows about this thing I went through today”. Aside from Ox and Jon, no one here knows still and I don’t think it really matters. It’s not their job. It’s not their life or their burden. I was still able to sit down at the table and have dinner and smile and joke to the degrees I was able to without it feeling forced or soul-crushing. I was able to handle the situation at work, but also make peace with it in my personal life and I think that’s the biggest thing. I’m at peace with the situation and it’s not eating away at something inside me.

Ox and I are doing well I think. We’ve had some deep conversations since my race. I don’t know what else to say on that topic. He put the butcher block onto the rolling cabinet yesterday. The pull out drawers that I had bought won’t work the way we want them to, so at some point, I need to return them. I’ve kept the receipt just in case something like this happened, so hopefully, I’ll be able to get my $100 back. Now that we know how tall the cabinet is, we can make the counter to go above it. That will be the last stage of this particular project for the time being.

Ox has agreed to let me make an Excel sheet/budget thing for his monthly expenses, similar to what I have for mine. I’m not sure why, but there are warm feelings associated with that. Trust maybe. He trusts me enough to let me know about his finances rather than keeping that area of our lives hidden from one another. Less walls maybe. More openness and transparency.

One of our conversations over the weekend was how I am spending the money he’s paying me back with to buy food for the house. To him, it seems counter to his intentions. He says the money is supposed to be mine. It’s supposed to be used for my tattoos or things for me, not being invested back into providing for everyone.

In my head, it’s not fair of me to not spend the money in such a way when I’m staying aat the house rent free. What’s $50 or so in groceries when I’m not charged for the electricity to power my computer so I can sit and play video games instead of unloading the dishwasher?

That led to a conversation about him giving money to help with the groceries, which I was uncomfortable with. That led to introspection about why it made me uncomfortable which led to another conversation while he was on his lunch break today.

I’m glad that all of our conversations are that; conversations, discussions. Not fights or yelling or cursing. It makes it easier to have conversations about touchy topics. It makes it feel safer even though the fear and mild anxiety are still there. It’s easier to pacify the hurt aspect of myself, the part that’s been mistreated through so many relationships, when there’s so much data to support that this one is different from my past.

It’s been almost six months, and though there are things we’re still working through and figuring out, that’s six months of stability and acceptance and discussions and support and troubleshooting and problem-solving.

I think Ox and I are ok, and I think we’ll continue to be ok and that’s a nice feeling in a weird way that I’m not really used to anymore, but it’s one I want to continue to experience.

I’ve been eating more consistently. I’m still taking care of my chores and bills. I still need to drink more water, but I always need to drink more water so meh on that one.

Overall I think I’m healing and recovering the best I can from this latest wave of grief. I made it through it. I’m still here. I still don’t have answers and I still don’t have a goal I’m consciously working towards, but things are less heavy and pointless feeling which is sort of odd because I still don’t have a point for doing them so doesn’t that keep them in the pointless category?

Annoying brain is annoying. /sigh

I don’t want to say that I’m on the upswing, or that things or good or going better.

I feel less injured. I feel like I’m recovering. Those words have a different connotation than good or better. I’m healing. And right now, I’m ok with that.

Letters To Mom 021: Goddamnit

Goddamnit, mom.

That was the thought I had ricocheting over and over again in my head as I left the gym today.

I know you’re still here. I know you know all of this. I know you see everything, but goddamnit. This is the only way I can talk to you, other than talking to myself and wondering if I’m crazy. This is one of the few physical things I feel I have to represent our connection. It’s not just words in the air, carried away by the wind, never to be heard again.

This is lasting. This can be printed out and held and hugged and cried on, and so I need to write it even though you know it. I need to make it physical.

It’s worse this year. And maybe worse isn’t the right word. I didn’t understand it as I left the gym. I haven’t understood it every time it feels like I backtrack to square one. What’s different this time is I’ve had time to talk to Jon and Ox and I’ve had time to be home and to read posts online and to try to figure it out because in my head there’s a problem and so I need to find a solution to fix it, only there isn’t a problem according to the internet. It’s normal. Worse is normal even though it’s not actually worse.

The first year you died sucked. It sucked so much mom. Every fucking day. Yet at the same time, it didn’t. I didn’t feel much of anything for the longest time. There wasn’t a point in feeling anything. I was on auto piolet a lot of those days. The only thing I had to do was survive.

I had to eat. I had to drink. I had to care for my body enough for it to not break down. And when I started taking CNA classes I had to study and learn and make good grades. Things I have always been decent at. It didn’t take effort. More auto piolet. Just do what needs to be done. No thinking. No emotion. Just do.

In a way, it was simpler than it is now. I cared about things less. I didn’t worry about a lot of things because I didn’t have the energy to care.

I’m past the survival stage. I’m past learning how to meet my basic needs without you being here. I’ve learned how to wake up with the pain. I’ve learned how to cope with the hard days where I want to break down and cry. I’ve learned how to breathe while I tend to an invisible wound I can’t touch or show anyone.

I’ve done all of that, and so now we’re going into year three. I made it through Mother’s Day. But Saturday is your birthday and goddamnit, I’m back to crying and feeling directionless and hopeless and alone and angry and sad and it sucks.

It sucks worse then it did the first time because the first time was about surviving. It sucks worse than the second year because I was in the middle of training for work and worrying about paying my bills and having a roof over my head and enough gas in the car and food in the kitchen since Warren was a dick and not paying rent. So, really, the second year was still the survival phase for me, maybe moreso than the first because at least in the first year I had the money you left me to cover my needs. It was more about figuring out how to drive to the store without screaming in emotional agony over doing it while knowing that you were dead.

The second year I had to donate plasma just to keep making ends meet. While I still had hard days, I was still more focused on becoming stable. I had to figure out all of my shit for work and not quit because there were a lot of days that I felt like I wasn’t good enough. I had to worry about becoming a stronger member of my team so no one dreaded working with me. I had to figure out how to support two adults on a single paycheck because Warren wasn’t holding up his end of the deal. It wasn’t emotional survival the second year; it was actual survival and I did it.

I moved to Nebraska because I was done figuring out everyone else’s crap. I moved here to take care of me, and I guess this is part of that process. I’ve been stuck in the first year of grieving for two years because for two years I’ve had to worry about survival.

I’m past that now, though, and so now I get to move on to phase two, which are the emotions.

I actually feel the pain this time and so now I have to cope with a whole new aspect of my grief and I guess a lot of people go through this.

There’s the expectation that surviving the first year means it will make coping with the countless additional years easier or more manageable or doable or something. It will be more “something” but painful was never on my list. That’s the reality of my grief over your death, though. I feel the pain more now because I don’t have to put all of my time and effort and energy into merely surviving. I have the energy to deal with the emotional aspect of it all and I almost wish I didn’t because I’m supposed to be doing better. I’m supposed to not cry as much. I’m supposed to be more ok and not have people worry about me or darken their days with my sadness and that’s not what’s happening.

I’ve gained two pounds of muscle and two pounds of fat since my last weigh in two weeks ago.

When my trainer asked how my eating has been going I said I’ve been inconsistent. On my days off I have the tendency to skip breakfast. If I eat breakfast I normally forgo lunch. I don’t eat my snacks like I know I should. Dinner usually happens, but it’s a crapshoot as to when. The days I work are a bit better, but not by much. I’m still not really drinking enough water, though I am doing better than I was last week.

So it’s not that I’m eating poorly, it’s that my body is freaking out and thinking that it’s never going to be fed so it’s holding onto what I do give it. Which, to be fair to my body, it’s not wrong at the moment.

When my trainer asked if I’ve gone to the dojo I said no because I haven’t. When he asked if I’ve gone to the gym near home I said no because I haven’t. Since my race two weeks ago, I haven’t done anything extra. I go to my training and that’s it and even then, I missed one of my sessions because I didn’t want to go.

I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to talk to people. I don’t want to pretend to be ok when I’m not. I don’t want to explain why I’m not ok because it’s no one’s fucking business and even if I did, a vast majority of people wouldn’t understand and just feel awkward so it would be a waste of time and energy.

I mean, really, when someone asks you, “What’s wrong?” What are you supposed to say? “Oh, nothing. It’s just that my mom died. It’s cool though. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get over it.” No one is prepared for a super heavy answer like, “My mom died.” That’s not the answer they want. It’s supposed to be something small and manageable like a breakup or a bad day at work. They don’t want a real answer so why give one?

It’s like when people ask, “How are you?” “Fine” or “Ok” or “Good” feel like the only ok answers because 99.9999999999999999% of people are only asking out of social obligation, not because they actually want to legitimately know how you are doing emotionally.

I want to be left alone. I want to be alone. I want to make it through this hard time and I don’t want outside input on how I should or should not be getting through it.

My trainer has goals for me, but I don’t care. My work has expectations of me, but I don’t care. I don’t have goals for me. I don’t have expectations of me.

It’s almost your birthday. Nothing else matters right now. Everything else is insignificant and trivial and meaningless when held against the fact that you’re dead.

I woke up today. I showed up to training instead of canceling again. I need that to count towards something. I need it to matter that I’m trying as much as I am when I don’t have an answer for “What’s the point?”

If none of it matters, if waking up doesn’t count, then why even do it? I showered. I had breakfast. I got dressed and drove like a diligent, responsible adult. I parked within the lines in the parking lot instead of like a douchebag who doesn’t care. I need all of those stupid, small, little things to matter because if they don’t then why bother?

I want to know why there’s more anger now. What is there to be angry at? There wasn’t a drunk driver. There wasn’t malpractice. It was a shitty situation and we’re both doing the best we can now. What good does anger do? Why is it here, within myself? What am I supposed to learn or gain from it? Where is it supposed to go?

All of the posts I’ve read have helped. There was one about loving through separation. All of the posts were things I can relate to. They’re things that I feel now. It helps, knowing that it’s worse in future years for others, too.

It’s not regression. It’s not abnormal. It’s not a fuck up on my part.

The first year is about survival. The other years is about figuring out why you survived in the first place. What was the point of that horrific struggle? You’re still not here. You didn’t magically come back. You’re still gone and I have to go through all of these days all over again, without you, still, and they’re not magically easier because fairy dust doesn’t fix anything, so why? Why go through it all again, and again, and again, and again, and for forever again?

Goddamnit, mom, I wish I had an answer, for you, for me, but I don’t, and that makes me angry and frustrated.

I don’t want it to be your birthday again. I don’t want to not be able to call. I want an address where I can send a card and know that it will reach you and make you smile and feel loved because I still love you so goddamn much it hurts.

I want to be better even though I never will be and I really don’t want to be because that would mean whatever it is we still have will be gone. In a way, I love my grief because it’s you. It’s the result of our connection being changed by your death. If my grief wasn’t there or if it changed or didn’t hurt as much it would mean our connection when you were alive had been different and I would never want to change what we had. I’m ok with my grief because it means I had you in my life for as long as I did the ways that I did.

I’m in another wave, mom. I’m getting through it. At least I think I am. And I think it’s ok that I’m here. I have more hope that I’ll get through it than I did when I left the gym.

I don’t really know what else to say right now. I don’t have answers for you or myself. I guess I just wanted to let you know that what I’m feeling is ok and that I’m angry but I’m not angry at you. I’m sorry that I’m angry. I’m sorry I’m having a harder time than I think I should be. And I’m sorry I put that expectation on myself.

I’m trying to be understanding with myself and after reading the things I have, I think it’s easier for me to do that.

I love you, mom. Forever and for always.

With love ~ Your Angry Dragon

Daily Post 099: Taking Care of Business

Today has been a decent day.

Last week I got another notice from Spectrum about the internet account I’m “no longer associated with”. Let me tell you how happy I was to receive a late payment notice…

So that was the first thing I started my morning with, aside from breakfast and a cup of coffee. Mentally preparing for battle and everything. The guy I spoke to was super nice. He listened to my story.

Bullet Points:
Went to Spectrum location with roommate before move
Worked with representative to switch the account over
Contacted about a month later because original representative fucked shit up
Filled out paper emailed to me
Emailed paper to Warren
Warren, theoretically, filled out his part of the paper and turned it in
Still receiving messages about the account

According to the guy on the phone, I was still connected to the account.

Right Brain: Burn everything to the ground! /rage

Left Brain: Has this been messing with my credit since all of the letters have been about late payments?

The representative took all of my information out of the account, including my banking and card information. I am no longer legally responsible for the account what so ever. I have it on recording. I have the date of the conversation on my Google Calendar, so if anything comes of this in the future I can hopefully refer back to it.

And, according to the guy, since the account never went to a claims agency, it shouldn’t have affected my credit, and definitely wouldn’t going forward.

So that’s off my to-do list. I’m glad it went smoothly. I’m glad it’s done.

I messaged Warren to let him know I spoke with Spectrum and that I would like to talk to him. I still haven’t heard anything back from him. I’m not surprised. I’ve sort of given up on anything from him which saddens me. I would like to think I still matter to him. As one of the few people left in my life who knew my mom, it sucks to feel like I’ve lost his friendship as well. I’m tired of trying, though. I’m tired of reaching out asking to talk and receiving nothing in return.

Not an, “I’m busy.” Not even an acknowledgment that I messaged. Just silence and a notification on the message saying it was seen.

Whatever. Maybe one day things will be different. But right now, I’m tired of wasting energy on it.

After the phone call with Spectrum, I called the hospital I’ve been trying to become a new patient at. I need to have a physical done for work so I can get a discount on my insurance for the coming year.

To recap the story on that… I found a place that’s in my circle for my insurance. I called and tried to make an appointment. As a new patient, they needed me to fill out a bunch of paperwork before they would schedule said first appoint.

Fine… I’ll fill out your paperwork.

They mailed it to me. I took a while to fill it out but finally did. I was even diligent and eventually went to the place to turn it back in. They said everything was filled out properly so they would send the medical release form to my old provider and once they received my records I would be called to schedule my first appointment.

Well… that was like a month ago…

So I called this morning to figure out what was going on with that. In addition to needing the physical, my birth control is going to need to be replaced soon.

The person I spoke to at the hospital was also extremely kind. She looked in their database. They already have my records so she’s not sure why I wasn’t called, but if I wanted, I could go ahead and make an appointment while I was on the phone. So that’s done and taken care of. My appointment is for August 30th since I’m going out of town and I had agreed to pick up a day at work, but couldn’t remember what day since it wasn’t written down anywhere. Lame.

So it’s a ways off, but at least it’s going to happen now. Yay adulting. We even set up my preferred pharmacy while we were at it.

That left figuring out my paycheck correction. I wasn’t at work so I didn’t have access to my paystubs, but I figured I would try calling and see if anything could be done.

That phone call sort of sucked. The person I spoke to was pretty bitchy. She wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise. I also felt berated for “not having any useful information to help her solve my problem”. Sorry that I’m at home on my day off and that your system won’t let me access my information unless I’m at my clinic? Needless to say, it was frustrating and nothing got solved. In fact, she said she wouldn’t explain anything about my paystub to me unless I had it in front of me because I wouldn’t understand anything she was saying.

I hope that call gets pulled for one of her reviews.

From there the day was pretty chill. I talked to Jon for about an hour. He got to unload all of his drama on me and I got to inform him about mine. After that was a phone call from Ox while he was on lunch break.

That didn’t leave much time before I needed to head to the gym for training. I showered and got ready. I made sure all of my stuff was packed then loaded it into the car and headed out.

Training went well. We’re in a new phase now, so was a lot of new stuff. Ninja jumps are pretty cool. I got to push the sled again, which was fun. He asked how my eating went last week and I owned up and said it had been shitty. I explained the discontent with work and my schedule and how when I feel things are unresolved that I have a tendency to not eat.

I also got to explain that I felt like I had that side of it figured out and that I wasn’t going to let work win. I’ve resolved to stick it out for a little bit. I had another conversation with my FA and found out that the Cap City location has hired several people. The South Lincoln location also hired another person. There was a promising interview with another tech, and our clinic specifically has two nurses which should work out.

It’s going to take a few months to get everyone through training, but things should start improving as long as I can stick it out for this rough patch. So that’s what I’m going to try to do. Instead of jumping ship I’m going to wait and see how it goes.

With that settled inside my head, it’s been easier to eat and drink the way I need to. I still haven’t made a decision on the dojo membership. I don’t think I’m going to do anything this month since I’m about to go out of town. I might just stick with training and the gym and biking here and there while it’s summer and turn more to the dojo in the winter months once things, in theory, settle down again with work.

Which, speaking of bike rides… I didn’t go on one this weekend. Instead, I stayed home for most of it and gamed and it was nice. No regrets. I got to chat with friends from Orlando and run dungeons with them. I progressed my storyline so I’m closer to getting my character’s mount. I also finally bought the game so I’m out of the free trial restrictions.

Basically, this weekend was mostly me not being an adult and it was the break I needed I think. Yesterday and today I’ve felt better and more able to take care of what needs to get done. I actually had something to give at the gym without struggling with the feelings of “what’s the point”.

The point is, the gym and the dojo are what I want. I don’t really have to have a reason other than that. I don’t have to understand the deeper side of it, even though I know there is one. I feel better when I workout. I feel better when I push myself to do things I didn’t think I could do, or things I’ve been told I can’t do. I like proving to myself that I am good enough and I’m not going to let work take that away from me. I’m not going to let emotional discord over what my work schedule may or may not become keep me from taking proper care of myself or keep me from enjoying the things I have in this moment.

In this moment, at home, we got the insulation for the roof of the addition. I got to move a lot of the bags and stack them so it’s organized and compact so when we get to the stage of actually putting it up it will be easy to get to and move. I started putting up the cardboard in the rafters last night so there’s that much less to do. I didn’t make any further progress on that today, but I’m mostly ok with that.

I don’t mind how today went. Lil’ Ox and I biked to the gas station when I got back from the gym. Once this is done I will have written, another thing which is important to me and takes time to do. I have plans to make a decent dinner for myself and after that, I will shower before going to sleep so I’m rested for my workday tomorrow.

Work has been going smoothly so the thought of going in tomorrow doesn’t kill a part of my soul. Our AA should be back before too much longer which will be nice.

I don’t think there’s a whole lot else to report. I’m sort of counting down the days ’til I get to see my brothers. I’m sort of looking forward to my weigh in on Thursday. I’ll be happy if I’ve maintained during my week of feeling meh. I’ll be pleased if there’s any forward progress, and if I’ve gained I’ll be understanding with myself and know that this too shall pass and the only thing I can do is make choices more in line with what I want going forward.

So with that, I’m going to go forward with the rest of my night because I’m hungry and sleep sounds amazing.

Daily Post 098: Blarg

So I’m going to try writing again and hopefully, the Internet doesn’t eat it this time. Not that I’m still miffed about my last writing or anything…

I’m still low energy. I canceled training today mostly because I have a sore spot on my foot, but also because I didn’t want to go anywhere today. I messaged my trainer and asked if it would be possible to rescheduled to Saturday. We’re going to see how my foot is feeling tomorrow and go from there. He gave me advice for taking care of it, so we’ll see.

It’s been… nice… not doing anything. I’ve been in bed nearly all day with small bouts of “up-ness”. I sat outside for a while this morning before going back to bed. I dug through the Warrior Dash event photos and found mine since those were posted. I’ve talked Jon and messaged a few people through Facebook. I talked to Ox during his lunch break. But that’s been about the extent of my day.

No chores. No shower. Not even really eating. My first meal happened at 1 pm. I’m picking away at what should have been my breakfast right now, but only because of a few posts I’ve read online.

I’m still pretty low energy and though today has been nice, feeling this low, still, is sort of annoying.

Dehydration is a possible culprit. I haven’t been drinking anywhere close to the amount of water that I “should” be drinking on a normal day. With running my race and the general heat level outside and sweating through my days at work, I’m most likely bearly skating by and my body is having issues with that, fatigue being one of the symptoms.

Not eating enough or the right stuff is another possible factor. I haven’t wanted to eat lately. With the news about work on Monday and with the conversation I had the following Wednesday, I’m not really motivated to eat. I don’t have the issue of stress eating like some people do. If I’m stressed for feel like things are out of balance and unresolved, I tend to skip meals which throws everything off.

On the subject of Wednesday… I talked to my FA and asked if they had any idea of what I would be working this coming schedule. She said no. It would be taken on a week by week basis and they couldn’t guarantee anything. I asked, at a bare minimum, could I not close on Mondays at Cap City because that would prevent me from going to the dojo on one of the few days they offer jiujitsu.

She said they would try. They think they hired someone specifically to close on the late days, but again, she couldn’t promise anything.

It’s hard to feel appreciated or like me and my life matter when I feel like I’m now the doormat / catch-all for everyone else’s schedule. When all of my mental and emotional energy is going into reassuring myself that things will be ok, the thought of having to go make food or even heat something up in the microwave feels… I don’t know… not worth it? It’s easier to stay in bed and sleep through the hunger. When I wake up maybe I’ll feel better enough to care about food AND to do something about it.

So… That’s sort of where I am right now. I think I know a few things to fix at least the physical side of the imbalance, but I don’t really have anything that can fix what I feel is causing the issue, other than maybe not giving a fuck about my schedule but I’m not sure if I can do that. Not caring about my schedule means I don’t care about the gym and the dojo, and I do care about those things and I’m worried that they’re being threatened by work and I have no reassurance that they won’t be.

It sucks.

On a more positive note… My Concur report from work was approved for the whole amount and has been deposited into my account. So now the only thing left on my to-do list as far as paychecks go is to make sure they fix the fuck up they made while trying to fix my missing 15 hours. I’ll find out tomorrow if that was resolved.

While I was on the phone with People Services I asked about my back pay for my CCHT. They’ve back paid it as far as they’re going to. The week and a half that’s missing was in the middle of a pay period and they’re not going to retro back to it. That sucks, too, since that’s not how I was told it works, but at least they back paid anything at all. I think this is one of those moments that it doesn’t matter what I want or what I was told or what I think is right. They’re a company and they’re going to play by their rules and I can either waste energy into feeling something over it, or move on with my life because it’s a battle I’m never going to win.

I started looking at things on Indeed last night. Job postings and such. There were some things I was qualified for. Normal hours. $14 an hour.

It would be better if I had my phlebotomy certification or my CNA. I don’t though. I took the classes and never went through all the way to get my national certifications. I have my EKG, but there aren’t postings for that. So… I can look at taking another class to get those things, which would be hard to do with work about to become inconsistent. I could tough it out for a bit at work, save up money, pay down the credit card, then put in a two-week notice and do the courses over again and try to find a new job, all while maybe or maybe not having the dojo…

I don’t know. It all seems messy right now. At least I have a year and a half of dialysis going for me. And the 10+ years of customer service.

There wasn’t much in the way of teaching positions. Or tutoring. Nothing CG related in the area. I could try to see what freelance is out there, but that would be a lot of digging and hunting on my part and I don’t know if I would want to do that constantly.

Blarg.

Ox should be home soon. It’s already 5 pm. I have work tomorrow. Then one of my now numbered double day weekends. The kids will be here starting Monday. I’m back to wondering if I should get an extended stay in Beatrice.

Things aren’t bad. They’re just different than how I want them to be and I’m not doing myself any favors with how I’m coping.

Oh… One happy moment. I got to show one of my patients some of the pictures from during my race. My name is now Mud Monster at the clinic. Warm fuzzy feelings. :3

just-keep-swimming-swimming-swimming-when-life-gets-you-down-11242371

Musing Moment 115: Making Work Work For Me

I’m sort of beyond furious right now.

I had just spent the past like… three hours figuring out EVERYTHING in regards to my discontent with work. And then the internet fucked up and copied over what I wrote with something else and since I write in Grammarly and didn’t realize it had messed up my writing, when I closed the window it saved the incorrect writing and there’s no way for me to get back what I originally wrote.

So much rage. If I could break the Internet right now I would. Without remorse even because it deserves to die a horrible stabbity death.

INFJ righteous rage at its finest.

So this is going to be a much more condensed version of what I wrote before, with more curse words, because I’m not going to rewrite everything as it was and cursing makes me feel better.

Firstly… Fuck you, Universe.

Moving on. My original writing started with me talking about how I’ve been low energy since my race and identifying a multitude of factors which could have or currently are contributing to the prolonged lull.

First big event with a bunch of people
Dehydration
Eating carbs and having to get back into ketosis

I think I did a lot of help myself as best I could

Sleeping
Prepping everything beforehand so Sunday was a light day
Actually letting Sunday be a light day instead of doing a bunch of shit
Writing and whining to mom because it gave me stuff to think about

I’m going to take a moment here to say that I do appreciate the relationship I have with Ox. While sex is important to me, by writing I realized that there are a lot of aspects about our relationship that I value, and that no, sex isn’t everything and though we do have our own self-imposed difficulties, we have a lot of really positive things going for us.

Ok. Sappy emotional moment over. Moving on since I’m still rage-filled because fuck you, Internet.

I think the conversation I had with my FA on Monday is the biggest factor to my continued low energy. I was told after my vacation I would have to start covering shifts at Cap City so other techs could be more familiar with how our clinic is run, since Friday was a cluster fuck of disaster with both me and my FA going out of town at the same time.

Right Brain: Great. Just when I’ve found my dojo and am about to drop $130 for a monthly membership, you’re going to take it away from me. Thanks. I feel like everything I love is being taken away from me again. You do realize the last time I felt this way I moved halfway across the country, right?

bucket

To be fair, I’ve been thinking about new work for a bit. Upon thinking deeper on it I’ve realized there are a lot of downsides.

New boss
New team
New environment
New schedule which may or may not work with what I want
Most likely less pay when I already have issues with making less than what I was making at Full Sail

Not a lot of positives other than not having to work at Cap City. In reality, a new job would most likely fix none of the issues I’m trying to solve.

There’s also the facts of:

I don’t want to leave my clinic
The clinic would be fucked without me
I don’t want to leave my patients
I like my boss
The schedule could work as long as they’re willing to work with me
I secretly want my retention bonus even though, push come to shove, it’s not enough to make me stay

I want to sit down with my FA and talk to her about it because I don’t think essentially saying, “Your schedule’s about to change but I can’t tell you what it’s changing to because I don’t know. K. Thanks. Bye,” is very fair. It left me feeling like my entire personal life is about to get screwed over. I can’t plan or problem solve with information like that, but I also can’t really go to her yet and help come up with solutions when I don’t know what would or would not work for myself.

So even though I knew she was at the clinic when I got done with personal training today, I decided to come home instead because I needed to have a meeting with myself first to figure out my side of the equation.

That’s what all of the previous writing, which I no longer have, was. It was amazing. It was perfect. It was done. And then it got messed up so here I am, still rage filled that I’m repeating it.

Basically, I identified a few things.

Monday: Dojo days. I can get up to four hours at the dojo in the evenings. Not so if I have to close at Cap City because I wouldn’t get out until around 9. That puts me home at 10ish which would also mean I get no time with Ox. Essentially working late on Mondays sucks and has no compensation for what would be my personal loss. Boooo late Mondays. Early out Mondays are negotiable, though.

Tuesday: It’s ok to work at Cap City because even if I close I would be out around 4 or 5, which would still leave me able to get to SCA combat practice, which I’m not going to today because it’s a rainy and icky day. Working Tuesdays would fuck over personal training which rescheduling is “doable,” but would be harder the more inconsistent my schedule is because I’m essentially at the mercy of my trainer’s schedule at that point and he may or may not be able to work with what I’m able to do.

Wednesday: Normally an off day as far as personal training and the dojo go. At the moment these are gym days after work. If I worked Cap City I could do something either before or after, depending on the shift I’m scheduled for. If I work in Beatrice I could move my personal training to happen after work, assuming my trainer is available. Basically, Wednesdays have options.

Thursday: Another heavy dojo day with up to three hours worth of classes I could do. Another personal training day as well. Working Cap City wouldn’t interfere with the dojo, but it, again, makes personal training an issue that would have to be figured out. Not the best case scenario, but not the worst either.

Friday: An off day from personal training and the dojo. Set to be a gym day at the moment. Normally scheduled to work at Beatrice. Could potentially do Cap City without fucking shit up.

Saturday: Would be a Cap City day. Out by around 4 or 5 if I close. Earlier if I open. Could let me do the grocery shopping and any errands I might have since I’ll already be in town. I’ve been thinking about offering up my Saturdays anyway since it gets me out of the house. Could still hit the gym if I wanted / needed to.

Sunday: Always an off day from work. Would be left open for my bike rides while the weather is still nice, which those days are numbered since winter is a thing in Nebraska. Also would have to start investing into sacrificial chickens to ensure the gods are pleased so it doesn’t rain on the one day I can get out on my bike.

So there… everything in a condensed nutshell since my first writing was so unsatisfactory.

/wtb sacrificial chickens

I like the idea of having Mondays off completely. I could move personal training to Monday. I could have it as a buffer day to finish anything that didn’t get done Saturday evening / Sunday.

Preferably I could keep Thursdays off as well. That would let personal training on those days stay the same along with ensuring I have both my dojo days.

Everything else is sort of whatever. I “like” having set days in Beatrice, but as long as I can have my two dojo days and my two personal training sessions, that I’ve already paid for, then I think I’m fine. Combat isn’t an issue and would let Ox and I still have our mini date night after practice where we get dinner before going home.

If I can’t have Thursday as an off day, then I want at least one day set for Beatrice where I can switch my personal training to the evening after work.

I think that’s fair. I think that gives everyone options.

I’m done. I’m going to go smoke now because I’m still angry. Grr.

Letters to Mom 020: Relationship Rambling

I ran my race.

I didn’t run all of it. I didn’t really try to run all of it. There were two points where I met another runner and walked with them while we talked about life and our past race experiences. I could have run more, but I don’t have this pressure or feeling that I should have run more. I did what I wanted and I’m ok with that.

I’m surprised with how recovered I feel. I know I ran more this race than I did on any of my previous races. I still did all of the obstacles. I still crossed the finish line and had my victory beer.

I’m… happy… with my race and that makes me feel sad in a way. I wrote about it at least once that I can remember. I never thought success could be painful, but it is now. I did well and so I hurt because I did well when mom isn’t here. Maybe one day I’ll grow past this point in my life where everything comes back to her death, but right now I haven’t and so this is where I am.

I did well and I can’t show mom any of the pictures. It hurts even though at the same time I have all of these positive feelings. Ox went with me. He was there when I crossed the finish line. He even gave me a half-way hug while someone else took our picture for us. He drove me to and from the race. He went to dinner with me the night before where we got subs and had ice cream from a local deli near the race location.

We had a mostly serious conversation about our relationship, and though nothing was really solved or figured out, I feel like it was important that we talked.

It’s hard to want to go back to work. I want to see my patients but I really don’t want the stress that goes with my job. I don’t want the annoying hours. Maybe part of the discontent is from being tired. Maybe I’ll be more ok with the thought of work tomorrow, but for right now, I would be ok if I didn’t have to go back. I have too many tangled emotions right now to want to be around people.

I’m glad that almost all of the obstacles felt easy and that the hardest part about the run was running uphill. I’m glad my new Vibrams performed well. I’m glad I didn’t get super sunburnt. I’m glad I went to the race.

There’s so much I want to write about but I don’t know how right now. It’s why I didn’t write yesterday or before the race.

Mom, I miss you. I know you would be so proud right now. I know you would listen to every word if we were talking. I’ve already been cornered by Mama Ox and talked about all the different obstacles and how I felt I did and was the time with my trainer worth it and all of these other questions and side tangents…

But it wasn’t you. She wasn’t who I wanted to talk to and though I knew it was a conversation that I had to have, I didn’t want to. I wanted to talk to you. I still do. I still need it to be you that I gush and ramble to. I need this to be for you right now.

The “race day” adventure started Friday evening. Ox came home after getting off from work. We packed the car up and said goodbye to his parents so we could try to out drive a storm that had the potential to hail on us.

We stopped at a gas station before getting on the interstate to fill up the car and get snacks. He helped me scrub the windows clean of bug guts since that’s a thing I have to deal with here in Nebraska. We ate pretzels and beef jerky while listening to music as we traveled. We were able to beat the storm because we’re badasses like that.

We made it to the town of Blair, home of the bears, which is where I had been able to get a hotel room. We were still about 30 minutes from the race location, but that was the closest hotel I could find. Nebraska is so spread out and a lot of the towns are small. I was sort of surprised we ended up as close as we did.

Blair is quaint. It’s bigger than Hickman, but it has a lot of mom and pop type places. The deli we went for dinner is a good example. In a way, it reminded me of Ye Old Fashion in Summerville. The food wasn’t anything crazy or out of the ordinary. I had a roast beef sub. It wasn’t anything that I couldn’t have made myself at home, but it was still good and I enjoyed eating carbs at night guilt-free, knowing that I would run them off during the race. I even indulged and had a waffle cone with cookie dough ice cream.

It had been a choice between driving to the race location so we could see where it was at and getting food since we didn’t get to Blair until 8pm. Food won out and I’m glad it did. I enjoyed sharing a nice meal with Ox. It was datey feeling, getting ice cream with him.

This was our second road trip together since he flew down to Orlando to drive with me to Nebraska when I moved. It was nice to feel like we got away together.

I wish I could ask you about sex advice, mom. I know Ox says it isn’t me, but it’s hard to feel like it isn’t. We were finally alone. Away. I’m losing weight, again. I’m doing well at work. I cover my bills. I’m domestic with doing laundry and cooking and cleaning.

I don’t know what else to do to be a better, more attractive or enticing mate.

I have been told it’s not me. I’m doing everything right. But that doesn’t change the feelings of “It is me”. This issue has followed me through all of my relationships. I have a higher sex drive than my partner and I don’t know how to change that or to come to terms with the feelings of loneliness that go with it.

Did you ever experience relationships like this, mom? How did it make you feel if you did? What happened? How did you cope?

I’m told I am sexy. I am beautiful. But I don’t feel those things, mom, and I don’t know how to change that. When I say them, when I say, “I am beautiful” it feels like a lie. That combination of words isn’t one of MY truths. I know my truths shouldn’t be based on another person’s opinion or actions or feelings. It should be based on mine, but in my head when I hear “You’re beautiful” I think, “No. I’m not. I’m just me.”

Just me…

That’s a lot of things, though. I’m “just” amazing and fantastic and compassionate and empathic and logical and emotional and structured and spontaneous and fun and funny and outgoing and reserved. I’m an INFJ and there’s so much that goes into “just me”. I don’t know why having sex less often than what my nervous system wants causes so much strife within myself.

Why does it make me question my self-worth? What does it make me wonder if there’s something I should be doing, or doing differently, or not doing? Why does it make me feel like the problem is within myself?

I don’t know if you would have any insight, but I wish I could talk to you about it. I wish I could hear your voice assuring me that Ox and I will figure it out. He’s so many things that my past relationships haven’t been. Why can’t I let this one thing go?

It made Friday night hard. I had packed a piece of lingerie with me. We were alone. We didn’t have Life breathing down our necks with obligations or responsibilities. Sexy time wasn’t in our cards for that night, though. The lingerie went unworn.

It was hard to not feel unattractive. While we were outside smoking before going to bed I asked if there was anything I could or should be doing differently.

In the end, I asked if it was like my grief and how it can’t really be explained. Was it similar to how I wish my grief could be something like the memory orbs from Inside Out where I could let someone else hold it and say, “This. This is what I feel.”

Ox said yeah. It was like that. He could try to explain as best he could, but there wasn’t really a way to explain to someone else what it feels like to want to please your partner and not be able to.

I know we’re more than roommates or good friends, but it’s hard to feel or support that fact inside my head. It feels like a big part of the relationship is missing or withering away. We both come home from work. I do chores. He plays video games. We go to sleep. We wake up and repeat.

We ended up sleeping cuddled close together which helped keep the lonely feelings from winning. I still didn’t feel sexy or beautiful, but I didn’t feel alone.

When we woke up we checked out the breakfast bar at the hotel but decided to go to a local diner instead. It was another decent meal of nothing super facey. I had rye toast with a mushroom omelet. I even had some of the hashbrowns. We drove to the race site. Ox helped spray my back down. I wore the top he found for me. I had my new shoes. He was at the start line taking pictures and watching me raise my hand for Nebraska even though I had been giving him shit about still representing Florida.

He was there at the end, mom. He was there when I crossed the finish line covered in mud and he didn’t make me feel bad or weird for doing it. He held my bag and let me have my beer and… goddamnit, he’s awesome and I feel like shit for having such a shallow hang up.

He didn’t have to drive two hours to sit for an hour and fifteen minutes out in the sun surrounded by strangers while I ran a circle. He didn’t have to sit there and worry about me not finishing the race because I hurt myself on an obstacle he couldn’t see or twisted my ankle while running. He didn’t have to go. He didn’t have to give me a partial hug. Hell, a partial hug is more than what Zane would give me when I got home after biking to and from work so he could use my car and all that was was sweat.

Ox didn’t try to stop me from going or try to talk me out of it. He doesn’t make me feel bad for spending as much time at the gym as I do or the nights I’ve spent a majority of our “together” time at the dojo instead of being home. He goes to SCA combat practices with me even though he doesn’t fight. He wakes up at 3:45 on the mornings I work just so we can have a cigarette together before I leave even though it almost always fucks up his sleep. He lets me sleep on the couch when I feel the need to have space. He lets me write. He always says thank you when I do something. Making his lunch. Doing the laundry. The small, trivial, unnoticeable things of everyday life aren’t unnoticeable to him and he acknowledges those actions.

Through our conversations of Friday night, he told me he thinks it might be low testosterone. Having been in relationships where I’ve been told I need to be on medication to “fix” myself, I feel awful about the thought of Ox feeling like he needs to take or do something to “fix” himself.

He’s human, so I can’t say he’s perfect, but the thought that I might be making him feel pressured to do something like taking pills or medication sucks. It didn’t make me feel good when it was done to me, so I don’t want to do it to another person, intentionally or unintentionally.

He said taking supplements is something he wants to try; for me, but for him too. He said he’s noticed other things which could be related to low testosterone. I guess it’s something he’s thought about since before our conversation.

I guess there’s not much else to say in regards to this. I wish I knew your opinion, mom. I wish you could tell me if I’m making mountains out of molehills. I know sex is important, yet at the same time not, yet at the same time is… I wish it wasn’t such a big part of the race but since all of this talking happened the night before, it’s tied into it and so there’s no way I can talk about one without the other. It’s the part that’s unresolved in my head and so it’s the part I need to talk about first.

The conversations I have with Ox always bring us closer. In the end, we agreed that we’re ok. We cuddled close together, his arms wrapped around me, and slept through the night. I woke up rested even though I was in a foreign environment and usually have a hard time sleeping in a bed other than my own. I was with Ox and we were ok so it was ok.

We had a nice breakfast in a cute town. He let me have my day. We drove back to Lincoln and we went to our Mongolian Grill and he let me wear my fuzzy warrior hat inside the whole time along with my medal. He went out in public with me while I was still grimy from the race. He even looked up other events I could still sign up for this summer while we were eating.

He let me be grouchy and sad afterward when my headache from dehydration started setting in and I came down from the high of my race. He let me sleep for hours once we got home.

And today, he’s let me be whatever it is that I am. I’m not as sore as I expected to be. Physically I’m doing pretty well. Emotionally I felt frayed, though. I’ve wanted closeness and contact and I think a lot of that has more to do with the runner’s high than anything. It felt a lot like sub-drop after an intense BDSM scene.

We ended up going to the movies since they have the dream lounge chairs. I was able to sit cross-legged the whole time while we watched the new Jurassic World movie. We were close and touching the whole time. Being out of the house helped. Not being the “responsible one” was nice. I didn’t have to drive. I didn’t have to choose anything. I didn’t have to talk to anyone. All I had to do was be present and watch dinosaurs attack shit. I was able to be low energy and quiet and near him and it was nice.

We were able to stop at GNC before going home so I could have my energy drink in the morning since my stockpile was out. So not only did we get cuddle time with dinosaurs, we were also productive.

You would really like him, mom. He honestly does take really good care of me. We take good care of each other.

I want to run another race before summer ends. I want to meditate more on the sex issue because I do feel like I need to explore that more within myself. I need to figure out why it is such a big deal for me because as much as I don’t want it to be one, it is and I can’t expect others to understand it if I don’t understand it myself. I want to keep training and losing weight. I want to figure out why I have such an issue with the words sexy and beautiful. And I want to figure out what I want.

That doesn’t seem like a lot, but I know on the emotional “figuring myself out” level it’s going to be a lot of work. I guess it’s a good place to start, though.

I don’t feel as frayed anymore. I feel more ok with the thought of going to work. I have a battle plan for figuring out some of the stuff that’s bothering me.

Thanks for listening, mom. Maybe next time I’ll be able to gush about the obstacles and which ones I liked and which ones were annoying and about the two runners I met and winning my free water bottle and all of the things that went into making my third Warrior Dash the warm memory that it is.

I love you, forever and for always.

Musing Moment 114: Inching Closer

I don’t do well on the days where I go back to sleep after I wake up, and though I know how to fix this, I sort of don’t.

Today is my first day off of four. I have my race on Saturday so I requested Friday off. Thursday, today, is a normal off say and so is Sunday. It’s like a mini-vacation.

Today is also a day where I am truly alone. Papa Ox has a field project he needed to go out for. Mama Ox and Ox are both at work. I don’t have training until 2:30 this afternoon. I have no other obligations unless I’m alive enough to go to the dojo after training for kickboxing, krav, and jitz, in that order.

When I go back to bed after Ox leaves on my days off it’s hard to not feel apathetic. It’s better on the days that I have training earlier in the day. I have a reason to get up. To shower. To eat. I have things I need to do and so there’s a level of motivation I guess that gets me up and moving.

Today I didn’t have that.

I went back to sleep. I woke up again. I had a cup of coffee for the first time in weeks. I had part of my breakfast but not all of it because I wasn’t super hungry.

I pretty much passed out right when I got home yesterday. I’m not nearly as sore, but I’ve also slept for somewhere in the ballpark of 16 hours. Small wonder I’m not really all that hungry. I haven’t done much.

I still really don’t have much motivation for anything. I “could” clean my computer desk, but I really don’t want to. There are clothes that “could” be put away, but again, I’m not really feeling it.

I made myself eat lunch since my trainer would give me shit later today for not eating. Saving myself from future heartache I guess; maybe that’s a mild form of self-preservation. I feel like he’s going to push me pretty hard today since I did so well on Tuesday. We did sled work at the end. My chest hasn’t been that sore in ages. I haven’t had to dig that deep on the emotional side in a while either.

I feel like the times where I have to fight against my grief and the darkness are the times that really matter. When I pushed the sled down the gym the first time I knew I was going to struggle more emotionally than physically. When my trainer turned the sled around and said I only had to do it three more times I wanted to cry.

My Brain: You say it’s “only” three more times. But that’s THREE MORE TIMES. THREE. I’m already fucking burnt. I can’t do three. No. It’s not that I can’t. It’s that I don’t want to do three. What’s the point? Why do three, or two, or even one? What’s the point in doing any of this when mom’s dead? You know, it’s so easy for you to say it’s “only” three. It’s “only” something. It’s so fucking easy for the rest of the world to just keep going like everything is easy and “only” three when just waking up is sometimes the hardest thing to do and then not only do I have to do that, but then I have to get out of bed. And then I have to shower. And then I have to do all of this other bullshit and interact with all these other people and pretend that living isn’t hard and doesn’t feel heavy and hollow and pointless. It’s already “only” fucking hard, ok? I don’t need to do your three. I don’t NEED to do anything because I’ve already done more than you can even imagine just by standing here. I don’t have to prove to you I’m strong. I’m already strong. Being here, standing here, makes me strong. So you know what? Fuck you, Life. No. Seriously. Fuck you and you know what? I’ll do three more just to prove to you that you can’t win. I won’t let you win. I WILL NEVER LET YOU WIN.

The last three pushes were some of the hardest pushes I’ve ever done, more because I was trying to breathe and control the urge to break down into rage-filled tears, though my body was totally ok with not having to push the sled anymore once I was done.

There’s a part of me who likes being pushed to that point. My mental and emotional breaking point I guess. It makes me confront my grief and the harder emotions that lurk in the dark, dusty corners of my mind that get ignored during everyday life.

I had a thought Tuesday as I sat outside recovering from my training.

I wonder if mom hurts, too.

I talk about my wound and what it feels like for her to be dead. I wonder if she hurts from us being apart, too. I wonder if being dead is hard for her because she can’t be here. I wonder if she has her own wound in her chest where she aches for one more phone call. One more hug. One more, “It’s ok”.

I wonder if I’ve been selfish and small and inconsiderate of the other side of the situation. Maybe it sucks just as bad for her as it does for me. Maybe worse since she lost so much more. She lost Jon and Jason and Jace and Lio and her coworkers and her brothers.

I only lost mom. Mom lost everything.

There’s a sick part of my brain that feels a little bit better thinking that mom and I are struggling together. I’m not alone in my hurt. I’m not alone. It sucks for both of us and we’re doing the best we can with what the Universe will let us have.

It sucks that I have to go for now so I can actually shower and get to the gym on time for training where I’ll have to push again when I don’t want to. I don’t know why I do this. I don’t know what I want. Or maybe it’s that I keep forgetting or losing sight of what I want and so it’s easier to say I don’t know what I want rather than to look for it or remember.

I miss you, mom. I miss you so much. I’m going to go to training and I’m going to run my race and I know I’m doing these things for me, but I’m also doing them for you. That’s why I’m able to do three more. Because I tell myself it’s for you. That’s why I get out of bed sometimes. That’s why I eat. Because I told you I would. Sometimes the only reason I’m able to do things is because I say they’re for you and I don’t want to let you down.

Today isn’t a hard day, but I guess with finding the dojo and everything else that I’ve been doing recently, I’m inching closer to… I don’t know what. Closer to something, though. The emotions are there, near the surface. They’re not the raging, chaotic, swirling beast they were in the beginning. They’re calmer now, more settled. They don’t overwhelm me in the same way anymore even though they’re no less powerful.

I don’t understand that foreign aspect of myself any more than I did before I started writing this, mom, but maybe I’m on the right path to understanding it.

I love you. Thanks for being there for me. We’ll get through it together.

Daily Post 097: My New Dojo

I’m tired. I’m sore. I think I’m fighting off a dehydration headache.

And I’m completely ok with all of it because today was pretty awesome.

I woke up for work like normal. Each morning starts off with me groggily opening up a can of Cotten Candy Bang because that stuff is addictive and I neither need nor want intervention. I showered. I had breakfast, which I don’t know if breakfast is what you can call food at 3 am when you still eat at 7 am… but that’s a tangent for another time.

I got dressed. I had my morning cigarette with Ox. I drove to work. I started setting up the clinic a little early since I was there a little early.

I got a phone call from my boss saying she would be late.

And you know… I think I would have been more not ok with that fact if it hadn’t been for my bike ride on Sunday.

This morning though, I was fine with it. I told her it was cool. I was already setting up. I would see her when she got there. I knew the day might be a little rougher, but I was ok with it. She’s human. We all make mistakes. It wasn’t intentional and we would do our best and we would survive and everything would be ok in the end.

She got to work. We got everyone on the machines at their normal times. It was a smooth day; at least as smooth as it can be in dialysis.

I got to talk to several of my patients about my upcoming race. I got to tell them about my weekend ride. I got to explain that I was going to the dojo after work, which led to conversations about my previous experiences and my “history” as far as the evolution of my combat training, which I don’t know if that’s what it could or should be called but that’s what I’m going with.

It was a decent day. We closed the clinic down pretty quick. They have someone to cover for me on Friday so I don’t have to go in, and it’s a tech who’s worked in the clinic before so I don’t have to worry about the clinic burning down to ashes as much as I was. I’m still waiting for my Concur report to be approved. I still haven’t called to figure out what’s going on with my paycheck. I also still need to finish yet another training course before the end of the month.

Mr. Non-Compliance showed up today for the first time in about a month. It was good to see him again. I got to tell him I had been worried about him and that I was glad he was there. I got to cannulate his fistula for the first time. I might be able to get my NFACT training completed since it is a new fistula and then I’ll be an “expert cannulator” which doesn’t give me a pay increase, but it will look good on my yearly review. I’m accomplishing a lot of things, work-wise, and that’s a good feeling.

Another patient brought a gift bag full of goodies for me and my FA long with a remarkably touching card expressing how grateful she is for everything we do for her. There are a lot of moments that make my job worth it. The “Thank you, ladies,” as my patients leave for the day, able to enjoy whatever it is they’re about to do because they were able to get their treatment. The “Good mornings,” and the stories about how their weekends were. The smiles. The jokes and bantering.

This is the first time I have received a card from one of my patients. It makes all of the crazy days and the stress and the sweat and the walking six miles inside the same room worth it.

After work, I drove home and showered super fast since I only had about 20 minutes to get to the dojo for class. As I sort of mentioned before, I sweat when I’m at work and there’s no way to not do that. I didn’t want to change into my gear for the dojo while still having the grimy feeling from my workday covering me.

Maybe it’s a bit of a ritual in some regards or maybe I’m just really weird… but… I want to start off clean. The gym, the dojo, working on the addition… it doesn’t matter that I’m going to get gross and sweaty. I want to start fresh because it’s a start and in my head there’s some sort of honor tied into it. You don’t show up to important things icky. Training is important to me. I want to be clean when I walk through the doors. I want to be clean when I bow onto the mat for the beginning of class. It didn’t help that this would be my first impression for everyone I met. I wasn’t going to go looking raggedy from work.

Kickboxing was at 5:45. Jiujitsu was at 6:45. Krava Maga was at 7:45.

I only stayed for kickboxing and jiujitsu.

It was pretty awesome. The dojo is smaller, both space wise and population wise, then what I’m used to from Orlando. It still felt homey and welcoming. There was only one other guy with me for kickboxing so it was pretty personalized work.

The instructor is a chick who gave me pretty good advice for my kicks. She was complimentary on my work. It was a moderately intense class and I think most of my soreness comes from that first hour.

I didn’t know if I was going to stay for jiujitsu. I was already tired, but I was there, on the mat. I wasn’t exhausted or overly hungry so there was really no reason for me to not stay, but I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.

The instructor for kickboxing introduced me to the instructor for jiujitsu. It seemed silly to go after that. Jiujitsu is the thing I’ve been missing most. This was my chance to see if the dojo would really be what I’m looking for. The instructors themselves even said that I could stay for as long as I wanted and if I needed to leave it was ok. They were glad to have me.

So I stayed.

We practiced getting out of standing headlocks.

It was pretty awesome. I was paired with two girls who were half of my weight which sort of sucked. I felt like I could break them if I hugged them too tight, let alone have them in a headlock bracing my weight on their back.

When the instructor worked with me one on one it was better because I was able to do the moves with more intention, more force, more strength. He was a better match for me, size-wise, as an opponent, and he didn’t treat me like a delicate flower. He pointed out where I was leaving myself open for counter moves. I think he was surprised at how quickly I picked things up and by the types of questions I asked.

It was a good practice even though we didn’t get to sparring. He said we would make up for it during Thursday’s class so, of course, I really want to make it to Thursday’s class. XD

I didn’t stay for Krav Maga, more because I was hungry and out of water than because I was too tired to, though with having training at 10 am tomorrow, I think leaving was the smart option.

I had already met a lot of new people in a new environment after working a full day at the clinic on very little sleep since sexy time happened last night. No regrets.

It was a good day and I’m glad for all of the moments that happened. I’m taking advantage of the dojo’s offer for a free week at the moment. I would like to check out the other location just to see what it’s like. The north location offers more classes but since it’s further away I don’t think it will be my main dojo.

I have information about the membership. It would be hard to swing it while still paying extra on all of my bills. I could volunteer to work on Saturdays to help maintain / cover the added expense… At least I would know what I’m working for so it would be worth it.

I haven’t gotten that far, but I’m fairly certain that I will be becoming a member of this dojo.

I drove home and showered after my classes, so yes, I’ve showered three times today. I ate. I’m still working on trying to drink more water to fend off the headache.

I’m looking forward to being able to tell my trainer that I got two runs in and a bike ride and two hours at the dojo. I think it will make him happy to hear that I’m going out and doing more on my own and that I’ve found something that I like and that I finally got my bike rack.

I know I’m pleased and content and I guess that’s really the important aspect of it.

I guess that means I have some soul searching to do and some decisions to make in the near future, but for now, I’m going to finish my water and go to bed. If I wake up overly sore tomorrow I plan to go to the gym here in Hickman to do some yoga to loosen up before my session in Beatrice. I also plan to explain if I’m in any sort of pain so my trainer can adjust our session as he sees fit.

I’m less worried about my weigh in on Thursday. I don’t care about the numbers anymore. I think I’ve found my new dojo. Numbers can’t take away the level of ok-ness that adds to my life.

I’m going to skip out on the SCA combat practice tomorrow to try to get to more of the classes at the dojo while they’re free. I want to feel like I belong there and the more I go the more I’ll feel that way.

I’m looking forward to all of it. I’m glad I have this in my life again.

Musing Moments 113: Reflecting On My Ride

I thought I would be able to just log into Final Fantasy and play my character, but with not having logged in for so long I really should have expected to have to download content first… Lame. :/

So that’s what I’m currently doing while I take a moment to type and reflect on the day.

I was able to go for my bike ride. It was… awesome, yet at the same time not. I went at noon, which means it was super warm and sunny. I loved it, yet at the same time, I know it most likely wasn’t the smartest option for me with having not done a whole lot outside since I’ve moved here.

I biked just under 11 miles; from the trailhead at Saltillo to Hickman Road. I had been hoping to get all the way to Princeton, but I also knew shortly after Roca Road that I wouldn’t be making it that far. At least not there AND back and I most definitely had to be able to make it back because there was no way in hell I was going to call someone and admit defeat.

I was getting down on myself for not being able to make it to Princeton by the time I made it to the overpass. I took a break and a moment to reflect on how I felt I was doing. While I recovered I drank one of my bottles of water and had a Nature Valley bar.

Right Brain: I’ve earned these carbs! Omnomnomnom. :E

When I got back on the bike to head back the way I had come, I was pretty surprised by how much easier it felt. It couldn’t have all been mental. It had to have been more than the break I took and the realization that I was headed home. I seriously think for most of the section from Roca Road to Hickman Road that the trail is at a slight incline because going back was so much easier than going south.

As I was heading back I passed by a couple who were taking their wedding photos. The wife looked amazing in her dress and it made me smile to see their reaction when I said congratulations as I passed.

It was a good ride. I enjoyed being out in the warmth and I liked how away from society it felt. I loved being surrounded by the trees and crossing all of the bridges over the streams.

I’m proud of my ride. Yet at the same time… I don’t know. I didn’t make it to where I wanted to go. My legs were more sore than I had been hoping they would be. I had wanted to do a 20-mile ride, not just a “close to 11” mile ride. I had wanted to do more, but wouldn’t it be more positive to focus on the fact that I went at all, rather than bashing myself for having limits and airing on the side of caution rather than pushing myself too far too fast? Wouldn’t it be better to focus on the positive rather than the self-imposed negative? Can we try to do that, Brain?

What were the positives?

Nature. Sun. Music. The kind stranger who stopped while I was taking a break to make sure I didn’t need help. The relative solitude of my ride. The strangers who waved as we passed each other; the unspoken comradery between humans as you acknowledge the other’s existence. The fact that I went. The fact that my bike didn’t fall off my car on the way to or from the trail because I might have been mildly freaking out over that happening. Seeing the happy couple.

See, Brain. Positive shit. More good things happened than not good things so chill with the “It wasn’t a good ride” thoughts.

I’m glad I went. I’m glad I know what the trail feels like going out and coming back. I’m glad that I did it rather than not. I feel like from this point forward I’ll be able to do better each time. Now that it’s not new, I’ll be more ok with pushing myself harder and further.

Currently, I’m not overly sore from the ride though I’m still waiting to see how I feel when I wake up tomorrow. I’m still under my carb count even with going to SubWay for lunch after I got back.

The bike rack worked amazingly well and I’m looking forward to trying to make my bike ride a weekly event. I know during winter that most likely won’t be able to happen, so I want to do it as much as I can now. Not this weekend since I have my race and will most likely be dead on Sunday.

I’m nervous about my weigh in at the gym on Thursday. I feel like I am doing a lot more recently. I did my runs on Thursday and Saturday. I did the bike ride today. I’m going to the dojo on Monday…

I’m worried the numbers are still going to be lame. And there’s a part of me who doesn’t understand why that bothers me when I don’t really have a goal in mind to begin with. If I’m not actively striving for something that can be quantified then how can I feel frustrated or saddened when I don’t achieve that quantity?

I don’t have an answer for that and I don’t really think I want to delve too far into it at the moment, to be honest.

I’ve finished all of my cooking for today. I want to make Ox’s lunch before I go to sleep, and it would be nice to start my laundry so it can be dry for tomorrow. I want to pack my gym bag so I can drive straight to the dojo if need be. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to stop at home first, but just in case, I want to have it ready to go and with me.

I think the place I need to start in regards to myself is addressing my health goals. I think once I experience the dojo it will be easier to clarify those things to myself, so I don’t think a whole lot can or should be done right now.

I know one of my goals is to bike all the way to Beatrice. I want to set that goal for the end of summer but I don’t know how realistic that is since I’m not honestly sure how far that would be on the trail. I know by car it’s roughly 30 miles, so I would imagine it would be in that ballpark for the bike.

If I’m already biking close to 11 miles then I’m already 1/3 of the way there. I don’t think biking there and back is a good goal to set, but then I’m not sure. I think I would rather talk to my trainer about that and see what he feels would be realistic. 60 miles seems like a lot. At that point, I would be able to pretty much bike the whole trail all the way to Kansas, which that goal is on my radar. Along with eventually doing a century ride at least once, just to be able to say I can and that I did.

Achievement Unlocked: Spending way too much time on your bike.

That’s along the lines of being able to do 20 pullups… I’m still working on doing one, ok Brain? Can we not take things slow and just get to step one before you plan out the next four billion moves? No? Oh… well… You suck. Thanks.

Anywho. I’m pretty sure the patch is done.

Today was a good day. My ride was a good ride. I’m not as worried about work. I’m not as stressed as I was. And you know what? After writing… All of my ride was a good ride, so screw you, Brain. I did better than I did yesterday. I did better than I’ve done in five months.

I didn’t let the Universe, or you, stop me.

I made this happen. Finally. And I have the pics to prove it. So now I’m off to run around in circles mining lightening crystals so I can level my weaving rather than actually killing monsters or progressing through the game because who needs storyline when you can make things?

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Daily Post 096: Bikes and Races

I slept like crap last night. I woke up with a headache and feeling like today would suck. Luckily things seem to have turned around. I took migraine pills, so the headache seems to have gone away and the tiredness has burned away the longer I’ve been awake and moving around.

I’ve already talked to Jon for about an hour where I got to bitch about some of the BS going on at work. That was nice. After I got off the phone I realized it was a pretty one-sided conversation, but as Ox pointed out when I started worrying about that fact, Jon calls me all the time to vent, sometimes multiple times a day, so I “shouldn’t” feel bad. I also fully believe that if Jon didn’t want to chat or listen to me, he would say something to that effect.

It was nice to get some of that stuff off my chest and to have someone listen. There isn’t really anything that needs to be fixed, I just want to know that I’m heard and that the mild frustration of day to day existence is understandable.

Yesterday was an extremely nice day even though in the beginning it wasn’t.

Ox and I had made plans Friday evening to work on the addition the following morning. Our plans ended up changing though due to his parents. They want to buy different insulation for the ceiling, so instead of working on the addition, we decided to work on the back porch. That was the game plan as of Friday night, after what felt like hours of back-and-forth. I’m not good with tentative, nebulous stuff. So when something was finally decided, that was sort of my stack in the ground.

Right Brain: Ok. It’s going to be different. But that’s ok. We have a game plan. We’ll be arlight as along as we stick to the game plan.

So Saturday morning, when his parents wanted to sit down again and talk more, I wasn’t ok.

Right Brain: Stop fucking with my game plan! /rage

I sat and brushed all three cats while things continued with the back-and-forth, eating away into the morning as it got hotter and hotter outside.

Inside my head, it turned to, “All of this talking is just that. Talk. Not action. Nothing is going to get decided or accomplished today. It’s just going to be more theory and things are going to stay as they are and no progress is going to be made and this is why projects never get finished because it’s all talk and no actual action to follow through.”

So by noon-ish, when still nothing had been accomplished I was more not ok than when we had first sat down to talk.

Ox and I had plans to go into town for lunch and to run errands, but I didn’t want to do any of the “fun” stuff when no work had been accomplished on the one of two days where things could actually get accomplished.

It’s hard to explain how the situation played out without being there to see all of the non-verbal aspects of the interactions, but essentially he knew I wasn’t ok. I knew he wasn’t ok. He went to the restroom. I went to the room and curled up in bed to sulk in my feelings of frustration and uselessness because none of the projects that need to be worked on are things I can do on my own. I stayed stuck inside of my head for a while, waiting for him to come back so we could go into town, which I didn’t want to do and was worried about because I knew I wouldn’t be able to get out of my funk to just enjoy our time out together.

When he eventually did come back into the room he was hot and sweaty, so I knew he had been working on something without me. We went outside to have a cigarette, which yes, I’m still smoking, and he asked what was wrong because something was very clearly still wrong with me.

He had been working on the back porch without me. Good to know because otherwise, it would have been concerning to have been in the restroom for that long. But still not ok because I had wanted to help. I don’t want it to be “Hey, go do all of this work. K. Thanks. Bye.”

I want it to be us working on something, spending time together. I want to be part of it. I don’t want it to be an obligation for him to work on one of his few days off while I relax and do nothing. I like working. I like being helpful. I like being a part of the process, the progress. It would be us making memories together so once it’s done we can remember something that we did together. Something we can look back on and smile about a silly joke that was made or the frustrations we overcame or any number of seemingly small things that you don’t realize are important until you reflect back on them and realize it really was actually worth it and made life a little more meaningful.

Sort of like those small moments where you have a cup of coffee with someone. You don’t realize how much it warmed your soul until you’re sitting one day, remembering that time and it makes you smile.

I want things like that with him. I want to feel like I’m part of the house and that I belong here, but it’s hard to feel like that when I’m kept in a box on the side, not allowed to do anything, or invest in anything, while everyone else goes around and gets stuff done. That’s not how I want it to be. I don’t want to be a nagging force harping about stuff and having other people do the work.

That’s how I felt while we sat outside. I nagged and sulked and so he went outside and did something without me just so I could be “happy” only it didn’t make me happy. It made me frustrated because I was denied my memories and warm moments.

He said I wouldn’t have liked helping with what he did. I guess there were a lot of bugs and spiders when he moved the stuff that was piled on the porch. I can’t deny that I would have been a total wuss when it comes to the spiders and I fully accept any shit anyone gives me for that. Spiders are gross and we’re all allowed to have our “one thing”. Spiders are mine, so suck it.

I still felt like crap for not having been there and we talked about it as we drove into town.

A lot of progress was made with the back porch and it’s pretty awesome to see that much space. It just would have been nice to feel like I had done something other than nothing. Maybe this could be a learning moment for me. Instead of getting caught up inside my head, maybe I should have communicated more. Maybe a lot of the icky feelings could have been avoided if I had expressed why it was important to me to work with him beforehand rather than afterward.

I don’t know.

I do know that we’re still ok.

We went to a Greek restaurant for lunch. It was amazing. I had a gyro and totally didn’t feel guilty for eating the pita bread because it was fantastic. I also didn’t eat anything else the rest of the day until around 11 pm that night because there was sooooo much food. My trainer is going to be so frustrated with me for skipping my snacks. #worthIt

After lunch, we went to a bike shop where I finally, FINALLY, got my bike rack. Hooray. The sales associate was extremely helpful. He looked up the different types of racks that would work with my car, explaining the advantages and disadvantages to each along with the prices. Once I had settled on one, which they had in stock, he even helped Ox and I get it attached to my car so we didn’t have to worry about getting home and not being able to figure it out.

I was extremely pleased with the experience and will most likely continue to go to that store as I need work done on the bike, which will hopefully happen now that I can use the bike rather than letting it collect dust like it has been.

I also bought a tire patch kit and a portable tire pump while we were at the shop since Ox wanted me to. It’s sort of sweet how he doesn’t want me to get stranded on my bike in the middle of nowhere.

We stopped at a Sally’s as well so I could pick up hair dye. I like the purple in my hair but it’s not as dark as I would like for it to be. It’s more of a bright purple and I want something closer to a deep violet. So I picked up some blue dye to mix with the purple to hopefully give it a darker hue. It’s what I used to do with Manic Panic. We’ll see if the results turn out the same with this new brand.

From there we went to Dick’s Sporting Goods. I wanted to see about getting a new top for my race Saturday. Less than a week until that happens. Oh god. >.<;

It’s something I’ve thought about since signing up for the race. I want to be able to see my tattoos while I run. With the current compression gear that I have, I can’t. The shirts cover my biceps, which isn’t a bad thing when you’re rolling around on the mats during a no-gi practice. But they aren’t what I want when I’m on the bike or running. I know this is pretty much a trivial issue, but I also know I would mentally feel better if I could find something that fit what I wanted.

The compression gear I wear is stuff I find in the guy section, so that’s where I looked first. They had a sleeveless style, but it wasn’t really what I wanted. I can never find stuff in the girl section so I thought I would be doomed to dissatisfaction. When I stepped out of the changing room, rejected options in hand, Ox was there were two new choices that he had found while he waited.

I didn’t like one of them, but the second option actually turned out to be exactly what I was looking for. And I’m not just saying that because he picked it out. The only downside to the top is that it has a mesh back. I like being covered, so all of the tops I get are solid, but if that’s the only issue with the top then I think it’s as close to perfect as it can be.

I like the thought that even though I’ll be running the race alone, in a way Ox will still be with me. I’ll be wearing “his” shirt. Maybe that’s overly sentimental or INFJy of me, but I like it. It makes that soft, squishy, girly part of my brain happy.

We stopped at Best Buy so he could pick up a new game to play. From there we went grocery shopping before heading home. I stayed within my budget for food so that’s nice. I also found a glass bottle that I really like for mixing my protein shakes in. I haven’t tried it out yet, but in theory, it meets all of my requirements. Today will be the test day since I was still too full from lunch for a shake when we got home.

I spent the remainder of the evening in the kitchen prepping food and doing some of the cooking.

The cauliflower mash I’ve been making turned out pretty awesome this time ’round. I ended up with way more than I need for the week but according to the Internet, it can be frozen, so that’s what I did. I should have enough for my meals next week, which is a nice feeling.

I tried a homemade marinara sauce. That wasn’t exactly a failure, but I can see where I want to try to improve it for next time. The sauce I made last night is another thing which can be frozen, so I plan to use it next week, rather than this week, so attempt number 2 won’t happen for a little bit.

A while ago I found a dry rub mix for venison which is AMAZING. I’ve used it on chicken a few times since then and it goes great on steak, too. Since the venison roast was so good I wanted to see if a beef roast would be similar. So that’s currently what’s in the oven baking. I’ll know in a few hours how that experiment turned out.

So, lots of things are getting figured out food wise.

Oh. Saturday I also increased my run time. That was successful. I stretched pretty well after my run so I’m glad to report minimal soreness.

I got a call back from the dojo. The owner seems extremely nice. We had a fairly lengthy conversation about the different classes. He explained the Krav Maga class to me and their BJJ / MMA stuff. He won’t be at the dojo on Monday, but he said he would let his instructors know I would be coming in so they can get me set up with a free trial week. I’m completely, totally stoked.

There’s still an issue with my paycheck. Surprise surprise, right? I got all of my bills paid along with all of my extra “me” stuff, so I’ll figure that out on Monday. I also submitted the Concur report, so I should be getting that money back in the next few days. Jon will be buying his plane ticket for the trip either Tuesday or Wednesday, so while I have the funds to do that, I’m going to wait to see what he gets before making my own plans.

It’s only 10 am even though it feels later. That might be because I’ve already spent so long talking to Jon. I don’t think there’s much planned today, which I actually feel ok with.

For once, I don’t want to really “do” anything.

I want to go for my bike ride. I want to dye my hair. I want to finish cooking my meals because it makes me feel good about myself to take care of my self. I want to cross stitch more because I’ve actually stitched for the past two days and it hasn’t been painful to hold the fabric in my hands. I want to not worry about who’s covering my shift Friday because that’s not my problem.

Today, I simply want to just be. So that’s what I’m doing to do. I’m just going to be.

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Warrior Freya

The Earth Dragon Who Could

Month: July 2018