Daily Post 094: Cleaning Up

Today is Saturday; the first day of two that I have off. After the few weeks of working overtime that I had, I have a new appreciation for having so much time off in a row.

The morning has been quiet so far. I’ve already loaded up the dishwasher. I’m waiting to run it until Ox is done installing the water filter for the sink.

We sat last night as a family and talked about one of the projects going on with the kitchen. I’m looking forward to starting it today. I’m looking forward to being another part in something that makes this place a little more my own.

Mama Ox even mentioned changing the way some of the things in the kitchen are organized so it’s easier for me to get to my containers. I like the change she recommended. I think it will make me feel like I have more of my own spot rather than eeking out space around everything else. I would have my own shelf with only my things on it rather than crowding in on the Raman noodles.

I’m hoping to get the interior of the kitchen drawers painted today since that’s been on the list of things to do since I moved up here, basically. Since the project for the rolling cabinet will have us going into Lincoln, I also want to be ahead of the ball and already have my grocery list mapped out so I can do the grocery shopping while we’re in town.

It would be nice to clean up a bit, too. The kids’ clothes need to be put away. Vacuuming the rug in the bedroom would be nice. Putting my own clothes away would mean there’s a place for the dirty clothes to go since the laundry basket would be empty.

There’s a lot of little, easy to accomplish things that I could do today that would help me feel better about my environment; not that I’m feeling bad about it. It’s weird… Cleaning makes me feel better. I like making things pretty and organized.

Ox and I are doing well. We talked about my last post since he reads them. I don’t know what else to say about that topic. I like that I’m able to write and that, for the most part, I still feel safe while I do it. The blank page is my canvas for figuring out myself. It sucks when it feels like I can’t do that; when it feels like it’s been taken away from me because of the fear of disapproval or future conflict.

That hasn’t been the case. though. My writing doesn’t break us or cause fights and I think that goes a long way into alleviating those fears. I still have this avenue. I still have this outlet. I still have this corner of the Internet and I’m grateful for being allowed to keep it.

Yesterday was a good day at work. I was tired, so the two incidents that happened hurt more than they should have. Like… contemplating quitting and giving up.

Rage-filled, self-righteous Right Brain: I’m sorry I did something wrong but why does that make it feel like I don’t do ANYTHING right? Do none of the other fifty tasks that I’ve already done, on my own, because you were late, matter at all? Do all of my “rights” count for nothing just because of this one wrong?

After stepping off the floor and having some food I was better able to deal with the emotional side of things. I had the time and space to recognize why I was reacting the way I was. Everything was fine I just needed to breathe and let it go rather than letting it loop inside of my head or eat away at me like acid.

Logical Left Brain: Ok… so you messed up. You know You messed up. Learn from it and move on. It was just a piece of paper. An important piece of paper, sure… but it’s not like you infiltrated your favorite patient. You already filled out a new sheet. The issue is taken care of. Try not to do it again. And try to have a better day. *hugs*

I stayed after work to finish my compliance training. I also called People Services and asked about my paycheck. They weren’t sure why I was given a retention bonus only to have it removed from my check. The assistant I spoke with put in a request to have my check looked at. She thinks maybe it was a mistaken entry but she wanted to get clarification because there weren’t notes anywhere about what had happened.

She did tell me that my backpay for March 14th hasn’t happened yet. That’s nice to know. I will be addressing that issue next week. That’s what I thought the bonus was for. I thought it was my backpay, which is why I was confused about it being removed and leaving me short $300.

I also plan to finish my Concur report so I can be reimbursed for all of the travel I had to do while I was working overtime during June. That will be close to another $500 back. Plus the 15 hours of overtime I was short…

Yeah… This paycheck was supposed to have been pretty freaking amazing, so I was pretty not ok when it wasn’t. I was still able to cover everything I needed / wanted to. But I wasn’t able to make the progress I was hoping to.

I got my hair dyed on Tuesday this week so I’m back to being purple. The roots had grown so far out that you couldn’t tell my hair was dyed anymore. I feel more like me. I also got about an inch cut off the tips so the ends aren’t icky anymore. : D

I also went ahead and ordered my new set of Vibrams for my race on the 14th. According to the tracking information they’re already in Omaha. The delivery date is set for Thursday, but I’m really hoping they come in sooner than that.

I’ve been wanting a bike rack, but alas, I haven’t felt like I’ve been able to get one. Or rather, I’ve been prioritizing other things ahead of it.

There’s a bike trail that goes all the way from Lincoln to Kansas. It’s something like 70 miles. I know I can’t do all of that in one go, but I’ve been wanting to go and bike for part of it. Maybe down to Cortland at first. Then working my way all the way down to Beatrice. That would be about 30 miles on its own. I haven’t felt like I’ve had the extra spending money to get the bike rack though, so I don’t have an easy way to get the bike to the trail. Maybe once everything gets figured out with my check I’ll be able to look into it.

I was pretty angry with my trainer on Thursday, but I think a lot of that had to do with me rather than him. I pushed really hard on Tuesday; harder than I thought I did maybe. All Tuesday night my IT bands hurt. Hurt to the point where I wanted to cry when I was getting out of my car when I got home. Wednesday wasn’t much better and I’m sure work didn’t do anything to help them relax and rest. Thursday still hurt but it got better as the day wore on and I moved around, loosening the muscles up.

When I got to the gym the first thing my trainer said was that I was over my calorie count.

I got on the scale. I’m down another two pounds. I’m officially the thinnest I can ever remember being.

But that doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter that I survived the two weeks of the kids being here. It doesn’t matter that my mom’s birthday is coming up and I’m constantly having to work through the pain of her being dead. It doesn’t matter that I’m constantly having to teach new RNs how to work in my clinic because we’re short staffed. It doesn’t matter that I work 12 hours shifts where I walk six miles and that I’m dead at the end of my days but still push myself to go to the gym and run and extra mile. It doesn’t matter that I’m doing better than I was when I first moved to Nebraska. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t call out; that I showed up to training in the first place even though I didn’t want to.

I’m over my calorie count so I’m a failure.

I’m down two pounds of fat, but I’m a failure.

My workout sucked. I did it. I didn’t skimp out on any of the sets or running, but it sucked.

I cried on the way home because I was so frustrated with everything feeling like it didn’t matter.

I like that my trainer is number and data-oriented, but at the same time I’M A FUCKING HUMAN. I have emotions and shit that I’m having to deal with. I don’t really have a health goal that I’m working on. I don’t care about how many calories I take in. I’m doing awesome with carbs and protein. I’m doing awesome with not compromising or giving in and actually making it to my workouts and doing extra on my own.

Acknowledge some of that. Acknowledge that I do things right instead of making it feel like all I do is wrong.

Wrong this. Wrong that. Wrong everything.

Irrational Right Brain: Fuck you. Ok. Fuck you. And the horse you rode in on. And the one that sired it. Ok. Just… arg. Fuck everything. /flips shit.

So yeah. I cried frustrated, angry tears as I raged at the Universe for about 15 minutes during my 30-minute drive home and I felt better for it.

No, I don’t do everything wrong. No, that’s not what he meant or what he was trying to convey or make me feel. All of this anger and angst was all just internal bullshit within myself that I needed to address. All of this was MY reaction to impersonal information.

This reaction, these emotions were most likely the fallout from not taking care of my internal self. This was build up from not writing and not having alone time and not working through the ickiness of my daily life. This was finally having an external target to rain down the fireballs of death and destruction that had been building up inside me with no place to go.

I do enjoy working with my trainer. I do feel he is worth the money I spend. I do feel I am getting results and I’m grateful that he wants me to become a better me. I understand that he can only do so much while we’re at the gym together and that most of my progress has to come from me being diligent about what I eat and when. I understand that most of the work is out of his hands and the only thing he can do is hold me accountable, which he does.

If I’m making this much progress, then I’m sure it’s frustrating to know that I could be doing even better if only I would be a little more diligent. But it’s out of his control and all he can do is watch as I make choices that he would rather I not make.

And I guess that’s the biggest difference between him and me. He has a goal in mind for me and I don’t.

I’m training more to keep myself in a routine and to make forward progress even though at the moment I don’t know what I’m working towards.

In Orlando, my driving force was the potential of MMA fighting.

Here… I don’t know. I still haven’t found a dojo yet, though I do have a few I want to look into. None of the dojos I am interested in are very close to where I live so I feel like it would be the same issue I faced with the YMCA. I would have the best of intentions but I would end up not going because by the time I get to the end of the day I’m done. I want to go home. I don’t want to drive further into town or be out longer or around strangers who are “clearly doing better in life than me because look at Mrs. Gym Bunny over there prancing through her workout while I feel like I’m dying”.

Where are the q-tips when you need them? >.<;

But maybe I would be better about going to the dojo than the Y. I didn’t like the YMCAs because they were so busy. I couldn’t make it to the classes I wanted. I wouldn’t have really been doing something that I wanted to do. If I had gone to the gym it would have been more of a “well at least it’s better than nothing” sort of feeling. It would have been an investment of my limited energy into something that I really didn’t care about. It wouldn’t have been fulfilling and therefore closer to a waste than an investment.

Maybe the dojo wouldn’t be like that. One of the dojos offers Judo in addition to Jiujitsu and Aikido. I think Judo would be fun to learn. If it’s something I want to do then I’m more likely to push through the things, like tiredness, that were holding me back. I’m more likely to think it’s worth it to drive to be there.

I don’t know. I can see it going both ways.

I still want to fight. I still miss that aspect of Orlando. I miss the feeling of family and belonging that I had. I miss the guys who became my friends and mentors. I miss sparring and pushing myself and proving that I’m better than I think I am. I miss learning.

I’m “training” for my Warrior Dash but even that I haven’t really been focusing on. It wasn’t until last week that I started running and I don’t really think you can call one run “training”. My goal with my race is to simply do it. I’ve run that race for two years now. I don’t want to feel like I lost it, that I gave my race up, because of the move. I can still have it even though it’s a little different than what it used to be. Instead of being in February in Orlando, it’s in July in Nebraska, but it’s still my race and I want to prove to myself that I am still able to do it. I didn’t lose it. It’s not gone for forever.

I don’t care if I weigh a certain amount. I don’t care if I have a certain percentage of body fat. I don’t have an end goal. I wanted to get back to the point where I wouldn’t be dying at the end of the warm-up if I did go back to a dojo, and I think I’m there. I think I am to the point where I can say I’m at square one again. I’m back to where I was before I got my job in Orlando; before I started working 16-hour shifts and had to give up the dojo and training and the gym and everything that made it feel worth it to live the life I had.

So, if I’m back to the beginning, then I need to figure out where to go from here since every step I take now is a step forward. A new step. A step I’ve never taken before to a me I’ve never been before. A stronger, healthier me that I have to come to terms with and understand. A me I need to sit down and talk to and negotiate with.

I do want to keep losing weight and part of that means I need to be more mindful about calories. I’m doing well with what I’m eating. I’m not eating donuts or junk food, mostly… that giant tube of mint chocolate chip ice cream is still in the freeze… STILL… And I want to point out the amazing amount of restraint I have to NOT have any of that when every night I have to look at it as I pull my burger patties out for dinner.

Fucking bastards…. buying my favorite ice cream… It’s so not fair. ;-;

Anyway… Part of the issue is I get so hungry between 7 am and noon at work. I think I’ve figured that out though. I’ve been trying the Wheybolic shakes from GNC. And you can give me shit all you want for buying something from that store. Right now I don’t care. Once I have it figured out I can worry about “the most bang for my buck” or not supporting a giant corporation of inherent evil that feeds off the tears of orphans… Seriously, with some of the posts I’ve read from people, you would think this is the worst store on the face of the planet.

Regardless of the orphan tear issue, having half of the shake for my morning break and then the other half right before change over starts kept me from wanting to eat the countertops while I was working. It kept me full until I was able to actually eat again. So instead of doing the homemade almond bars, I think I’m going to be doing protein shakes during that part of my day. That will cut out a lot of calories while increasing my protein intake, and if it keeps me full, in theory, it will keep me from eating more during the day.

I’ve also poked around online and found some new recipes to try since I’ve been eating roughly the same things for about a month now and I’m getting disenchanted with them. It sucks to look in the fridge and to see the containers of premade meals and to not want any of them. That’s when it’s hard to say no to the evil voice whispering about the pop tarts on the counter.

Why is the house full of all of the things I like and can’t have? Oh… That’s right… because there was an eight-year-old and a thirteen-year-old here for two weeks… The struggle is beyond real sometimes.

I haven’t had anything Mexican in forever. Or Italian. So this week I’m fixing that. I’m still allowed to eat tasty food. It doesn’t have to just be burger patties and chicken breast.

So… while I still don’t have a goal in mind for really anything in my life, I think I’m doing a bit better than I was.

Writing definitely helps with that and I’m going to actually put in effort to try to write more often. Having time away from work helps. Having a small list of projects to improve my home environment helps. There’s just a lot of little things that add up to making today feel like a stronger more stable day.

So with that, I guess I’ll go so I can make my shopping list and shower since nothing can really happen before the shower because I’m ~~weird~~ awesome.

Daily Post 092: Being Right

I’m doing well today and I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I got a full night of sleep last night. It’s the first night since last Saturday evening that I’ve gotten more than three hours of sleep. It makes me realize, once again, how important sleep is in regards to the equation of Life.

And, once again, as seems to be the case so often this past year, it has been a while since I’ve written.

Work is going well.

The patient I infiltrated the other week is doing well. His arm bruised a little, but he said it didn’t bother him and he let me cannulate him during his next treatment. He’s been extremely kind and understanding and I’m grateful for him trusting me enough to still be his tech. We still smile and chit-chat. He still lets me spread his blanket out over him after his treatment is initiated. We’re still ok and that makes me feel ok.

I ended up having a surprise 12-hour shift this past Saturday, which is why it feels like I’ve been playing catch-up until today. I was scheduled to close the South Omaha clinic, which went surprisingly smoothly. While I was in the middle of closing the clinic I received a phone call from another FA saying she, “knew it was a long shot, but would I be willing to close another clinic in the area.”

I guess their tech was sick and then stopped answering her phone and they were pretty much screwed because no one else could close the clinic for them.

I really didn’t want to. I wanted to go home. I was supposed to go to the gym and the grocery store. I was supposed to prep for my five day work week and recover. I ended up accepting the shift, though, because I know what it’s like to work short-handed.

I hadn’t changed into my sandals yet. I was still in work mode. I was still in the area rather than being halfway through my drive home. There was no real reason for me to say no, especially since I was already getting overtime pay and there was a double incentive added for the hours I would be working at the other clinic.

I’m not saying that I accepted it purely for the pay, but I can’t say that it didn’t feel nice knowing that my time was being compensated pretty fairly.

Because I worked so late I was tired by the time I got back to Hickman. The shopping didn’t get done and the gym for sure didn’t get done. I was still tired Sunday when I woke up, too, so I didn’t really start doing much until later in the day. I also had a pretty deep, emotional conversation with Ox that day about our relationship.

I needed the rest in the morning and I feel like we needed the conversation to happen as well. It just sucked that the results of those choices meant I was up pretty late cooking. Since I wasn’t able to get through all of my cooking Sunday, Monday, after working 12 hours, after going to my rescheduled training at the gym where I died a little bit… I came home and finished up most of the cooking which, again, put me getting to bed way later than I should have.

Tuesday sucked. I was exhausted before I even got out of bed. I covered my shift at Captial City and was grateful that the last hour I was there they had me in the back room making needle packs, alone, away from people, doing a mindless task that didn’t require mental effort.

I came home and slept for a few hours in the afternoon. I didn’t have combat practice this Tuesday because the first Tuesday of the month the group travels to Omaha to practice with people up there. I woke up from my nap when Ox came home. I wasn’t able to fall back asleep until later in the evening since everyone was home and awake and watching TV. It’s one of the downsides to roommates or living with other people in general. I don’t get alone time very often and it will never happen in the evening.

I slept alright Tuesday night once I could finally get back to sleep. I slept more than I had any of the previous nights, but with a 12-hour shift ahead of me I knew it would still be borderline brutal by the time my day was done.

I made it through it, though. Working a normal day at my clinic with my FA was nice. It helped that I had a day off in my future to look forward to.

I submitted and have been reimbursed for my travel expenses for the month of May. I have a report already created for the month of June. As I cover extra shifts I’m adding the expenses to it so I don’t forget anything at the end of the month or have to spend a billion hours filling it out.

I talked to my FA about my position at the clinic since that’s something I’ve been worried about. With the new tech going through training and living in Beatrice I’ve been worried about being pushed out and having to work in locations I don’t care for.

Beatrice is what I think of as “home”. I like my patients. I’ve been there for four months now. I have systems in place. I know where things are at and how they’re organized. I’m confident with the machines they have. I like my ride to work in the morning even though it’s early. I don’t want things to change all that much.

During my conversation, my FA explained that the new tech would have precedence over me at the clinic until we opened the TTS shifts again so I would float to other places until that happened.

After some time alone to process that information I realized I was angry and hurt. I found this out Monday before I went to the gym. I talked to Jon on my way home and he agreed that the information was pretty shitty and that I should tell my FA how I felt.

He jokingly told me not to kill the new tech to which I replied that I didn’t want to kill her, I just wanted her to quit. I wanted her to realize how hard this job was and to realize she wasn’t cut out for it and to quit before she started.

I had met her for a few hours a while back. She had come to the clinic with her trainer. I can’t explain why, but I didn’t like her. It was a feeling. Some sort of itch in the back of my mind that said, “You won’t like working with her.”

As an INFJ I have learned to trust those unexplained feelings. I don’t have to have a logical reason for why. She was nice to me. She seemed well put together. But there was something… dark? about her. Snake-ish. Back-stabby. I could work with her if I had to, but I would never trust her to not throw me to the wolves if it would save her own skin.

That evening I ended up getting a phone call from my FA. She wanted to reassure me that she wanted me on her team. She didn’t want me to feel kicked out or like I didn’t matter. She also said that things change very quickly and that the new tech had just given her notice and would not be working at the clinic.

I’m still trying to figure out those emotions. I had said I wanted her to quit only a handful of hours before getting this information, but I hadn’t really thought she would. I hadn’t meant for my words to actually happen. So there is a small measure of guilt. Sort of like I wished for something ill to happen and it came true and so now Karma is going to be looking for payment.

On the flip side, the reason she gave for quitting was that she “didn’t have enough time to sit down.” Totally in the wrong field if you ever think you’re going to do anything less than six miles during your shift. “Sitting down” is not a thing that happens. When it does you’re grateful for the unexpected blessing. You never go into the day expecting quiet, smooth, non-stressful. You prepare for battle with your most comfortable shoes and accept the day is not going to go how you envision it. Patients will not show up. Patients’ blood pressures will bottom out. Patients will get sick. Patients will be late. Patients will want off their machines early. Patients will want another cup of ice. Patients will want you to get something out of their bags for them.

On top of that, you’ll still have to prepare for the next shift or the next day. You’ll still have to do water checks. You’ll still have to count dialyzers or make needle packs. You’ll still have to generate treatment sheets. You’ll still have to do a million other things.

“Sitting down” isn’t one of those things.

So I can’t say I’m heartbroken over her leaving before she even got halfway through training.

I’m saddened that we will still be running three days a week for a while now. We’re still down two nurses and now a tech. It’s just me and my FA dedicated to the clinic at the moment and my FA honestly shouldn’t be on the floor. She should be doing FA work, not nurse work, but since she’s also an RN she’s filling that gap as best she can until we can get a solid team together.

I’m saddened that it didn’t work out but I’m also relieved that she didn’t get hired on, that we didn’t open back up to six days a week only for her to turn around and quit on us later. I would have rather it happened now rather than in the future where it could have done more harm.

It leaves me feeling more secure in my place at the clinic. I still feel like I made the right choice and I think things will go differently during future interviews as they look for another tech. When Mrs. Quitter was hired on we were still open six days a week. She negotiated during her interview that she would not float to other clinics; she would only work at the Beatrice location.

That’s why things were looking icky for me since we moved down to only three days a week. That’s three 12 hour shifts. She would need all three days to meet full-time standards. That means I would have to go somewhere else since she was specifically a “non-float” team member.

I don’t think they will let that fly during future interviews. I can’t say they won’t for sure, but I think they will consider me a bit more during the process.

I think that’s about it for work. Lots of actual working getting down. I’m up to 56 hours of PTO so the trip in August is looking good. I’ll have the time to cover it without having to starve. Hooray.

Ox and I are doing well. I don’t know what else to say in that regard. I think me working so much is putting strain on me which in turn is straining our time together. I think I do need more alone time then what I am able to get. After next week I think I will refrain from picking up days during the week. I think if I pick up extras it will only be on Saturdays because I need the silence and space I get on my Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I’m grateful for the support and understanding that Ox gives me. I’m grateful that he tries to help me through my stress as much as he can. He lets me cry. He lets me talk. He lets me make my own choices and he helps me get through the consequences.

He answers all of my silly questions like, “Can I still come home?” He encourages me to get my tasks done when I’m feeling low and tapped out and would normally let them slide, leaving my next day that much worse off.

I’ve started to make his lunches. He went to the store and bought gym clothes yesterday. He worked on the addition Sunday. We bought a window AC unit for our room yesterday along with going out to dinner together.

I think that helped me sleep deeply last night; having the cool air circulating around the room. I feel like we’re doing pretty well with adulting the shit out of Life. We got the countertops for the kitchen done finally. We got a new sink that I absolutely love, and we’re in the process of installing a water filter for it as well. That’s currently needing some tweaking, but it’s in the works. There’s still more work to be done with the kitchen, but it’s progressing, as are other areas in the house, and it’s visual progress so my brain is more ok with what’s going on.

I might not get all of the alone time I need or want, but I am fortunate enough to live in a safe and caring environment. I still enjoy living here, even on the days I feel overwhelmed, and I still think that moving was the best choice I could have made for myself.

I had a “weigh in” at the gym today with my trainer. At first, he was giving me a bit of a hard time. According to My Fitness Pal, I’m usually over my calorie intake. He wants to keep me around the 1700 mark, but if I’m under 2000 I feel ill. Since it’s not a “want” but more of a “need” to eat, I haven’t felt bad about eating. I burn roughly 3k in calories at work. I deserve a burger patty damn it!

Well… I got on the scale and it said I was up a pound. More talking from my trainer. More looking at what I’m eating and when. Eggs don’t last long enough. I’m starving by the time I’m able to have lunch…. blah blah blah…

We hooked me up to electrodes to get my body composition…

I’m down one pound of fat and up two pounds in muscle.

Yes. I am a badass and I will still have my burger patty and I will stare you down while I eat it because I’m a bawce that’s why.

It’s one of the reasons I hate scales. The body comp makes me feel validated for all the times I said I was hungry and still ate regardless of what the numbers were. I wasn’t eating carbs. I was eating protein and veggies for the most part. I was trying to be smart about what I was consuming while still listening to my body when it was telling me it wasn’t getting enough.

I think my trainer has a different opinion of me after today. He knew I used to workout hard with jiujitsu and stuff, but I think seeing a two pound gain of muscle shows that I’m not playing games. I’m for real doing this and my numbers can’t be cookie cutter like everyone else, and just because I gain doesn’t mean I’m gaining the “wrong” stuff.

It’s just like all the other times in the past where people would ask me, “You look great! How much have you lost?”

Me: Well… funny story… I’m up 5 pounds even though I’ve dropped 2 pant sizes… Sorry… No awesome, “I’ve lost 50 pounds in four weeks” story here…

It can be demotivating depending on the numbers you look at. The scale sucks. No. Seriously. Fuck that jerk.

That’s the best advice I can give anyone who’s struggling with self-image or letting numbers convince you “you’re not doing good enough”.

If your clothes are fitting better that’s all the proof you need that you’re making progress. That’s not something that’s made up inside of your head. Pants zipping up easier, shirts fitting looser… That’s real. More real than the scale telling you that you’re failing.

All the scale can do is tell you that you are heavier than what you were. It can’t tell you if that’s from fat or muscle or a 20-pound backpack on your shoulders. The scale is stupid.

So yeah… My words of wisdom for the day… Fuck that guy.

In general, I’m feeling better and I’m doing pretty well today. I’ve already killed it at the gym with plans to go to the Anytime Fitness here in Hickman to row for a bit since I have T-Rex arms. ;-;

I got that membership Tuesday after my craptastic day of exhaustion. One of the biggest things adding friction to getting my workouts done is how far away the YMCAs are in relation to where I live. I have to drive further from home or past home to get to them, and after working a full day that is a really hard hurdle to overcome. I want to go home. I want to change out of my scrubs. Adding an extra hour to my day just in travel time is normally a “nope” by the time I get to that point in my day.

With this gym, it’s literally within walking distance. The classes they offer happen at 6:30 so I could always make them after work. They’re 24 hours so I don’t have to worry about them being closed during the time I want to do something. They have nice, new equipment, including jump boxes. So much excite : D

I’m hoping it works out and that I utilize it more than what I have been with the YMCAs. If I do, then I’ll most likely end my membership with the Y, and pay the increased fee to work with my trainer. In my mind, it would be worth it. I don’t like paying for things that aren’t being used and I’m getting really good results with him so I know he’s worth it.

So yeah… I’ve cleaned the kitchen. I’ve done a load of laundry that I still need to fold and put away. I’ve washed the sheets and need to switch them to the dryer so I can wash the blanket. I’ve talked to my brother. I’ve written. I’ve napped. I’ve eaten. I’ve cleaned the room and the kids’ toy shelf…

I’ve been a badass for most of the day. I’m going to try to keep it going by getting up to do things now.

Until next time.

Daily Post 091: Another Summery

This is most likely going to jump around a bit. I guess the easiest way to write would be to break life into sections and write about each one since, once again, so much has happened.

Work

Work has been going well. I got my paycheck with my first bit of overtime. That was awesome. I also got the payback for the Concur report. Surprisingly I got all $400 for that. I got my wage increase finally for my CCHT test. I haven’t received the back pay for that, though, so it’s not 100% off my to-do list. Currently, I’m waiting to see if the back pay lands on this paycheck. If it doesn’t then I’ll be contacting my FA to see what needs to happen in that regard.

I need to figure out how to fill out Concur reports for traveling to different clinics since I was told I would be compensated for travel time and gas. I also ended up paying for the hotel room the last time I worked at the South Omaha clinic, which is another thing I can be reimbursed for. So, one of these days when I’m not super busy at work (which is never) I need to figure that out.

I haven’t started on the VAM training. I haven’t forgotten about it. More it just hasn’t worked out since I’ve been doing overtime elsewhere. This coming week seems like it will be a good week to start in on that, though.

I’m still waiting to hear back about finishing off my NFACT training. All I need in that regard is to get checked off on the skills list. Since one of our patients just got orders approved to use his fistula, now-ish would be a good time to get that completed. It’s another thing I’m waiting to hear back on. That task is close to being done, though, so I’m content with where I’m at with it.

The days seem to be going better. The one patient who was unstable for a while seems to be doing better. We switcher her dialyzer and everything is going well now.

Another patient has started having issues. Switching her dialyzer didn’t seem to resolve anything, so I’m not sure where we’re going with that at the moment.

Mr. Non-compliance got a fistula placed last week. Because of that, he was in the hospital for a while, but he was at the clinic on Friday for treatment. It was good to see him after so long. I hope he begins to show up more regularly. He’s an awesome guy. I can’t do much to help him live if he skips treatment, though, and that’s a shitty reality of my job. I can only do so much, and a majority of that depends on the patient actually being there.

Friday was a day from hell. I loved the RN I worked with. I’ve worked with her a few times at the Capital City clinic while I was in “training” after my move to Nebraska. She doesn’t work at the Beatrice clinic often, though. In the past six months, she said she’s been there three times. Because our machines are so different from all of the other clinics that meant it felt like I was on my own for the most part on Friday.

I set up nearly every machine. That meant we were running behind for first shift, which snowballed into second shift. Even though my FA was on the floor helping out we didn’t recover from the slow start.

There were soooooo many people at my clinic on Friday. I guess there was some uber meeting going on in the conference room. I didn’t understand how there could be that many people and yet leave me feeling like I was the only one working the floor.

The new tech who will be working the clinic with me showed up later in the day with her preceptor. I wish I could say I like her, but my first impression is that I won’t. She lives in Beatrice which worries me. I’m scared that she’ll get priority for the clinic even though I’ve been proving myself to be a good worker. I’m worried they’re going to have me cover more shifts elsewhere, especially at Cap City, which I don’t want to do.

I like my clinic. I want to stay there. I would rather go down to part-time than float to different places. Except maybe South Omaha. Or maybe even the North Omaha location, but that’s only because that clinic has the same machines as mine. I haven’t been there, but I could see myself being more ok in that environment because I would have a better idea on how to function there.

I don’t know what’s in the future and stressing over something that’s still two months away is a waste of energy. I’m trying to not let it eat away at the inside of my brain. Since it’s only been two days since I met the new tech I don’t think there’s enough information to say if I’m doing a good job in that regard or not yet.

I do think it’s something I should talk to my FA about. Knowing what their game plan is for the future would be nice. Where do they see me? Where do they see her? Stuff like that.

For the most part, things are going well with work and I believe that’s a majority of what’s been going on.

The new schedule is out. Next week I only work three 12-hour shifts. The week after that I picked up a shift on Saturday for South Omaha. The following two weeks I work five days since I’m covering a morning shift both Tuesdays at Cap City in addition to covering the Saturdays at South Omaha.

Yeah… we’ll see how that plays out…

SCA

In other news, Ox and I have been pretty active with the SCA group. We went to combat practice again this past Tuesday. I’ve purchased McDavid knee and elbow sleeves to wear under the loaner armor I’ve been using. I’ve also ordered groin protection since that’s a thing that’s required. It’s supposed to be delivered Monday so I’m hoping to have it for Tuesday’s practice. If I do I’ll be sure to leave a review.

I’ve also purchased a new backpack specifically for my combat gear since the backpack I’ve been using for everything is getting kind of cramped.

Typically I keep my workout gear along with everything I need for work in my backpack. I’ve recently added the knee and ankle braces due to training at the gym. I already had a bathroom kit for when I need to shower at the gym or travel overnight for work. And though I do have another gym bag, currently it has all of my fighter gear in it. My gloves and hand wraps. My shinguards and gi. My belt with my single stripe.

There wasn’t much extra space in either bag. Add to the equation that I now have stuff specifically for combat… It just wasn’t working for me. I like keeping my things separate, which meant another bag was in the near future anyway.

So now I have a softball/baseball backpack which I think is going to work amazingly well. It has two pouches that run the height of the bag where you can put a bat, theoretically.

Wouldn’t you know they’re the perfect size for two pieces of ratan? : D

So I have a bag for my gear AND I can keep my swords in it. And… AND… it’s purple. : 3

So much happy.

I really like it and as I begin to construct my own armor I’m fairly confident that it will be able to hold everything aside from my helm, which I wouldn’t want to put in there anyway since the helm has to be constructed from steel while the rest of the armor I want to make will ideally be leather.

We went to the meeting on Wednesday with Ox, which I think I would have enjoyed more if I hadn’t been so tired. It was a new social situation with new people on nearly no sleep after a 12-hour shift and no food. There were a bunch of people doing weaving and needle crafts so I plan to bring my own project with me next time, which should help with not feeling so out of place.

We went to dinner afterward, which was nice. I enjoyed the conversations I had and being able to connect with people on a more individual level.

It seems like a bit of a routine that Ox and I are forming. Tuesdays are combat and afterward, we go to my sports bar for dinner. Wednesdays are the meetups and afterward, we go out to eat with the group. I buy Tuesdays. He covers Wednesdays.

I’m glad we’re finding a group of people to interact with and that even though we both have our own interests within the group, that we’re able to share something together.

Health

I’ve been doing well with the gym. I actually made it in twice this week to do arm day since that’s something I need to start making more of an effort with. My lower body is definitely outpacing my upper body and I don’t want to be stuck with T-rex arms.

Or do I…

ddb

I’m down roughly four pounds. I’m up a little on muscle. I can feel a difference in myself. I’m doing well with sticking to my macros as far as carbs and protein go. I’m usually under my calorie count, but I really don’t care all that much about it since I’m logging around 6 miles on the days I work.

I can feel how I have more energy during the days I get adequate sleep. I’m coping with stress better. At least, I think I am.

My trainer is out of town this coming week, which means instead of going to training I’m going to try to find classes at the gym to do. it would be nice to make it to Zumba or yoga, or both. There’s a Core and More class that would be nice to make…

More planning is required. But yes. Things are going well in that department.

Life

I finally went to the DMV and got my Nebraska license. It’s more official now than not now. I’m officially a resident. The last thing I need to do regarding my move is switch my car tags over, but that’s a multi-step process with multiple fees and I’m not really all that worried about getting it done during this month’s schedule since I’m going to be working so many extra days.

Part of it, too, is that I don’t know how much it will be financially to switch over. Switching from South Carolina to Florida ran me over $600. Once I have all of the money from working overtime then I’ll look into taking care of that task. If it ends up being cheaper, awesome. Having 1k worth of extra to cover it would make me more comfortable with taking care of that task. Not that I want to spend that much, but I would rather have that much saved and not need it, then need it and not be able to do anything about it.

Finances

On the subject of money, I’m doing well. I was once again able to overpay on all of my bills and still have extra for buying the combat gear and bag. I was able to get the car looked at and tuned up since it felt like it was driving weird.

I like to think that mom would be proud of me. Instead of waiting until there was a problem I was proactive and took the car in to get looked at while it was still a “concern” rather than a “problem”.

I ended up getting an alignment and an oil change since that was something I’ve wanted to do since moving to Nebraska. Go me.

I’ve already bought groceries. The car has gas. This coming Friday is payday which will once again have a decent amount of overtime on it. Next month is when I reach out to Warren to see if he’s in a spot to start paying me back.

My immediate financial goal is to pay off my car. It’s the closest thing to being taken care of and would free up $300 to put towards something else. My rule right now is any overtime I work goes towards the car. I do want to take a bit of the money to put towards buying materials for my armor, but mostly the overtime money is for bills.

My “Me Fund” is back to where it should be. Actually, it’s a little over what it should be, but that’s in preparation for my trip in August. It’s looking more like I’ll be going to Vegas for a bit then flying to Orlando. I want to make sure I have the funds to support the trip. With working overtime, I should have the time available to take off without affecting my pay. I’m still waiting to solidify dates with my brothers, but it’s looking good so far.

I still don’t have much in my savings account, which might be something I address before pouring all of my overtime money into my car. That seems like a responsible thing to do… But since that’s still at least a week away I’ll worry about that when I have numbers to work with.

Let’s see… what else…

Relationship

Ox and I are doing well. We’re going to have the kids for roughly a week. In preparation for that, we’re going to flush out my nest a bit more. I know he did some stuff up there today which I wasn’t allowed to be there for. My tv is upstairs along with a tv stand that I bought today and a beanbag chair so I can set up my PS4. We’re going to try setting up an air mattress as well which, in theory, will let me be able to sleep at home without everyone having to tiptoe around me on the nights I have to go to sleep early for work.

All we can do is try and see if it works. If not then I guess it will go back to getting a hotel room on the nights I need to. I like the way things feel, though. We talked a lot about how we see the addition being set up in the future. We’re most likely not going to be able to do much of work on until the weekend after next, but we have a solid idea of what needs to be done.

He actually went as far as spray painting the lines for where the walls are going to go. I was having a hard time “seeing” the set up for the room because right now it’s all open space. The lines helped me see what he sees. I like it. I want it to be real and not just lines on the plywood floor.

I like the idea of having our computer area and the TV on the wall with a couch and a little work area for chain mail and armor making. I like the idea of having an alcove for the bedroom with windows to let the light in.

I like the way the future feels in that regard.

I’ve been sleeping better next to him. Part of that may be that I’m getting used to sleeping next to another person again. For so long I’ve slept alone. That might have factored into some of my sleepless nights in the beginning. Being sick as long as I was didn’t help anything, but I do wonder if being overwhelmed by so much new didn’t contribute to it at least a little.

I met Ox’s brother and sister-in-law on Saturday along with their two kids. I had slight anxiety on the way to their house, but they’re both nice people.

The thought of having to go back and socialize doesn’t seem heavy or dreadful. I would be ok with seeing them again, and I think I would be welcome in their home. They didn’t instantly hate me for my tattoos or purple hair.

It makes me aware that Ox hasn’t met my family yet, but there’s not really an easy way to fix that. He can’t meet mom. Jon doesn’t want to see him yet. Jason is in Vegas and dad is in Ohio.

I don’t know what else to write in that regard because I guess this is where I get scared and start looking at deep, dark, scary relationship things that I haven’t addressed in a while.

We’re coexisting well. It’s coming up on four months. That’s still really early in the relationship. I still get overwhelmed with the kids because I don’t know how to be a parent and I’m not used to kids being around all the time. I’m not used to not having my own space or quiet time. I still don’t know if I’ll ever want one of my own. I still don’t know where I want to go career-wise or what I want to do with school. I still don’t know if I’ll be able to run all of my Warrior Dash in July, which I need to request off from work.

I don’t think I want to delve into the deep, dark, scary world of “relationship” right now. I’m still not used to having it not fall apart. I’m still not used to things not being arguments.

I want to be happy with the small victory of being able to sleep well next to him. I want to be happy with feeling comfortable cooking in the kitchen. I want to feel happy that I feel like I belong even more than I did in the beginning. I don’t feel awkward coming home and being the only person here when Papa Ox is in the living room.

One other thing Ox and I have started doing is playing Final Fantasy 14 together. I’m enjoying the game so far. It’s allowing us to game together which I think is something that Ox misses. While I was in Orlando we spent a fair amount of time on WoW chatting and questing. Since I’ve been in Nebraska my gaming life has been non-existent, but gaming is something important to Ox.

Since I’ve been so disenchanted with WoW we decided to try a different game and so far I am extremely enjoying it. I’m only level 10, but I like my character and I’ve been enjoying exploring a new world and reading the questline.

I’ve been enjoying it so much so that I think I’m actually going to stop writing for tonight so I can get another hour of gaming in before having to go to sleep for work tomorrow.

In Summary

Overall, things are still going well, even on the hard days, and I’m glad for that.

Daily Post 089: A Mini-Meltdown With Planning

I’m tired. I have training at 3 which means I have about an hour and a half before I need to leave. I have combat practice which I still want to go to that I’m scared of not making due to the tiredness.

I don’t want it to win, yet at the same time, the thought of going out to my car feels heavy. Knowing that the dishwasher needs to be unloaded reminds me that it will then need to be loaded afterwards and that my clothes still aren’t put away and that I’m running low and prepared food and that I work the next three days and won’t have a chance to cook or clean because one of my shifts is in Omaha again and that alone is two hours worth of traveling if traffic isn’t bad.

It feels like a lot even though I know it’s not that much. I know it’s doable with planning and conscious, thoughtful intention, but right now staying in bed and just… not… is so much more appealing in the short term.

I’m finally eating my breakfast even though it’s noon. It’s warm and tasty and I think that’s helping. I know I need to drink more water since I haven’t had any since last night. I know once I’m at the gym and moving around that I’ll be better and that thought is what I’m holding on to. If I just start, if I can just get myself there, everything will work itself out, but that’s the hardest part, isn’t it?

That’s the part that doesn’t get done; the “getting there” part.

Yesterday was a decent day at work but even that had its own issues which kept me from doing things I had been looking forward to.

I worked with my FA for the first time on the floor by ourselves. It went well except for the morning because she didn’t know how to unlock the door properly so the patients could get inside on time. That put all of our patients behind by a few minutes, but once you’re behind there’s no way to really catch up and it dominoed into the rest of the day.

I spent most of the day making needle packs so now I have a proper setup; at least one that I think will work for me. There are two bins of 15 gauge needle packs. When one runs out there’s the second to replace it and the first can be refilled without causing a breakdown in the chain of supplies or the worry of old supplies never getting used and buried under the new stuff. I still want to make another bin worth of standard packs, ones without needles, for the times we need 17, 16, or 14 gauge needles. It’s easier to grab a premade pack and add the needle lines into them since very few of our patients use anything outside of 15s.

And since the clinic is down to three days a week, I’m able to keep all of the packs I need for the week in one of the drawers at my station, so I don’t have to worry about making sure I have the packs out of the stock room for the next day. I can reset on Friday for the coming week and be good to go. So far it’s been working well; the system I’m developing, finding, fine-tuning. It’s making things run easier for me, and because they’re running easier for me that in turn makes it easier for my RN and our patients because I’m able to do more. I can be more present rather than trying to take care of tasks that also need to get done. It’s an efficiency thing, and that’s something I’m good and figuring out, given the time to do it.

So yeah, yesterday I spent a majority of my downtime working with supplies. I also got to talk to our BioMed for a while after lunch which was fantastic. He answered a lot of my questions and I feel I’m more comfortable with the machines. That was another 15 minutes or so where I wasn’t on the floor prepping for the next day, though.

Once all of our patients were off the machines my FA wanted me to walk her through the “closing” tasks, so even though there were two of us doing them, it still took a bit longer because I had to explain what I was doing and why.

I had been hoping to get to the gym for a spin class along with doing the workouts my trainer wants me to be doing on my off days; the days I’m not working with him. The class started at 5:30. I didn’t leave the clinic until six. I had been looking forward to the gym all day. I’ve been eating better. I’ve had more energy. At lunch, I felt like I would have the energy to do it; to do to the class and maybe not crush it, but at least do it which would have been better than the previous week where I didn’t go at all.

After I clocked out from work, though, all I wanted was to go home, which was another thing that changed.

I had been told early in the morning that North Omaha still needed me to cover for them Tuesday morning. I was supposed to be at their clinic at 4:45 and work until around noon. I didn’t find out until 5:30 pm that they no longer needed me.

I’m not complaining about having time to myself, but it would have been nice to have had more warning that things were going to change.

Since I no longer had an hour drive ahead of me with a full day of work in my future, all I wanted was to go home and shower and eat and go to bed. So that’s what I did. I didn’t go to the gym and there’s a part of me who’s not happy about that fact. The difference between reasons and excuses are perspective and I can see both sides of my situation and it sucks. I made a smart choice by caring for myself and my introvertedness and getting proper food and rest. I’m also a slacker because I’m sure I really did have enough reserves to make it to the gym and do the things my trainer wants me to be doing.

Flipside… I haven’t stopped or had any length of downtime to myself aside from the two nights where I slept at the hotel and while I know that counts towards something, I don’t really think it counts as much as the time I have had this morning, right now, to myself. It’s the first morning where I’ve woken up and haven’t had to do anything or really plan for the immediate two to four hours after my initial wake-up.

Since I was supposed to be in Omaha, my at the gym training was moved to later in the day, so I had the ability to go back to sleep after Ox left for work, which I don’t know if that was a good call or not with how slow and tired I feel now.

I’ve been asked to cover a few shifts at the downtown Lincoln location in the coming weeks. I’ll be an opener on the TTS shifts so I’ll be one of the first techs to leave. I don’t want this to become habit or routine. I liked the South Omaha clinic so much more than the downtown Lincoln one, and maybe that’s because I was still in “training” while I was at DTL. It would be nice to see some of those techs again and a few of the RNs. It would be nice to see some of the patients I had in Beatrice since they had to move clinics temporarily while my clinic is down to only three days.

I would still get overtime and travel compensation for helping at the clinic, but there’s still, once again, a part of me who isn’t all that happy that I was asked to work there. It’s confusing and I don’t think right now, while I’m tired, is the time to try to figure those feelings out.

Instead, I think what I need to do is to figure out how to be ok in the coming days.

Combat practice doesn’t end until 8:30 which means if I stay for the whole thing I won’t be home until roughly nine, and I’ll need a shower, so I’m looking at a 9:30 bed time at the earliest while still having to wake up at 3 am for work. I think it might be better to only stay until 7:30 and have a larger time frame to prep for tomorrow morning.

I know that I need more burger and chicken. At least the burger patties since those are easy meals that I don’t need anything else for. I can precook them and take them with me if need be. I’ve been doing well with my metrics, even with having two bites of chocolate cream pie last night. I’m fully expecting my trainer to say something about it today but I would rather be honest about logging it than hiding it and I’m not going to regret my choice. Instead of having a whole slice I got to share it with Ox. It was a compromise. A halfway happy. I didn’t deny myself, but I didn’t do a full-on “zero fucks given” free-for-all either.

I will have a very brief window between training and combat practice where I could try to cook something as long as it’s fairly quick. It might be good for me to figure something out now because I won’t have much of a chance tomorrow if I’m driving up to a hotel in Omaha in the evening and that would leave me with no food for Thursday, and I won’t be leaving Omaha until 5 pm, so roughly a 7pm home arrival time with work again in Beatrice at 4:30 so there’s not much time in the evening to do anything that day either.

If I can survive until the weekend I’ll be ok. I just don’t know how to do that at the moment.

I’m going to need to do laundry since I still only have three pairs of scrubs and I work four days a week for the next three weeks it seems. It’s something I mentioned to Ox this morning while we were texting the first time I woke up. Even if I don’t use them, I think it would be smart to get more scrubs so the issue of laundry is no longer an issue. Maybe even another two pairs of socks so I can avoid that being a thing as well. And maybe that’s something I can look at today while we’re in town. I’m sure there’s a scrub store. I can look online to see if anyone carries the ones I want. Maybe even call and see if they have them in stock. I still have time. I can figure all of this out instead of sitting here and feeling like it’s all a disaster waiting to happen. It will only be a disaster if I sit passively and do nothing. I need to be proactive if I’m going to solve the issues that I know are problems.

I’m not going to be a helpless bystander who gets run over by Life. I’m going to be a bawce and take care of this shit because I refuse to let it make my days harder.

So I think that’s what I’m going to do. Instead of having a breakdown, I’m going to plan and take action. I have an hour before I need to leave.

I need to figure out a shopping list for after the gym. I need to figure out my scrub issue. I need to go to training. I need to stop by the store. I need to cook one meal since I still have enough premade breakfast left to get me through the week. I need to potentially pick up scrubs and socks. And then I need to meet with Ox so we can eat before beating each other with sticks at the SCA practice.

I will make this a good day.

It’s my one day off. I won’t let tiredness win. I WILL do the things and it WILL be a good day.

Daily Post 081: Recap Attempt #1

I wrote this yesterday evening but only got so far before the net crapped out on me. I will continue in a different post because this post’s time has passed.

It seems to be a trend to have to recap my days rather than writing daily, but I want to take a moment to acknowledge that I have written more consistently in the past month than I have in the two years since mom died. Maybe that’s a sign of recovery. Acknowledging this fact hurts while at the same time feels good.

It feels like I know she’s happy for me; for me writing and doing something that gives me peace and fulfillment. Like she would have one of those small smiles of pride that would make her glow from the inside. One of those smiles that she would smile whenever she knew I was doing something I didn’t want to do or a task that didn’t feel worth it in the beginning or sucked or was hard. The pride of knowing I accomplished something that I struggled with but I didn’t let the struggle win.

This post is for you, mom. This post is for all the times I haven’t written; to you, for you, for myself. This post is for not writing on your death day. This post if for every time I never sit and make myself write to you when I know you’re the one person I want to talk to. This post is for all the times I’ve struggled with the feelings of loneliness and lostness and have thought about giving up but didn’t.

This post is for us.

Wednesday – April 4th

This was the last day. The first day. This was our last, “I love you,” in person. This was my last hug from you. This was the day I woke up to Lio saying that I needed to come to the hospital because you had died while I was at your apartment sleeping before I took what was supposed to be my shift with you in the hospital room.

This was the day Jon gave me your mother’s ring. This was the day I called the funeral home.

This was my first day without you to tell me how to be an adult. How to cope with all of the shit life was going to force me to go through.

I talked to my therapist on Wednesday. I didn’t stay in bed all day. Instead, I got to tell her about all of the amazing things that have happened since I’ve moved to Nebraska.

It’s been probably the best thing I could have done for myself, mom. I can’t put into words how much more ok I feel here. I don’t hate work anymore. I don’t feel burnt out. I’ve been sick for almost a whole month, coughing and having issues breathing, but even that can’t take away the fact that I don’t hate living life as much as I was.

It was a good conversation and it helped me not sink into the darkness I could have so easily disappeared into on that day. There were so many “lasts”. So much sadness. None of it has gone away. None of it hurts less.

I guess it’s because I survived your death, because I kept living, I was able to experience things that make me grateful that I’m still here. April 4th, 2018 wasn’t awful even though I still missed you as much as I do every day I breathe.

After my phone conversation, I took a shower and went into town. I had to buy a flower for you. I had to keep up with my tradition; a tradition two years in the making. There are two roses in your vase now and writing that sucks. I hate that I had to buy that stupid flower, mom. I hate that you’re not here and I’m tired of being sorry for feeling that way.

I think that’s something I have to come to terms with; that I’m allowed to miss you even though I know you’re still a force in my life. I’m allowed to wish you were still alive. Having a spiritual connection doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to long for what we had.

So yeah, I hate that I had to do something because you died but I’m glad I did it. I’m glad I pay my respects to what this day meant for us and our relationship. I bought you a rose. I wish I still had the china hutch set up the way I did in Orlando. I wish I had a better way to honor your urn, but right now I’m doing the best I can.

I wasn’t able to connect with you the way I wanted to on your death day. I don’t feel like I get much quiet time to do that, or maybe it’s that I’m avoiding doing it because I know it will hurt. I don’t know. I know last year I knelt in front of your urn and wrapped my arms around it and cried my eyes out. I wanted to do that this year, but I didn’t it because I wasn’t alone.

Instead, I cooked dinner for everyone and when I had a moment alone in the room I added the flower to your vase as I placed my hand on your urn. I had a small moment with you and until now, sitting here, writing, that was the most I felt like I could give because giving any more would cause people to ask questions and I didn’t have it in me to deal with that on top of my emotions. I wanted to survive and I did and that came at the expense of our connection.

That I am sorry for. I shouldn’t let things like that come between us. I’ll try to be better about it in the future.

Thursday – April 5th

I worked this day. I don’t remember much about it, workwise. I got a message from Nasse. He and I haven’t talked much since I saw him at your service. He sent me a picture of a shirt you bought him at one of the color guard competitions he and Jon were part of. He said he still treasures that shirt. I had tears in my eyes as I replied, “thank you for that” because it meant so much to me to know that you still matter to other people, not just to me.

You didn’t touch just my life, mom. You influenced so many people and we all still miss you. We are all, still, forever changed for having known you.

Thursday did sort of suck in one regard. Ox messaged me while I was at work saying that his car payment was two months behind. He asked if he could borrow $400.

I had just gotten my tax return. I’m still waiting on the check from Full Sail along with a billion other things money related, but I finally had one thing. I had a check for over $800 that was money I had earned. I was going to do so much with it. And then suddenly I’m faced with the same situation I’ve been in so many times before.

What is it that I’m not learning to constantly be put here?

I was angry. I was hurt. I knew I wasn’t going to say no and that sucked. That felt like defeat.

I sat in my car and cried angry tears as I smoked a cigarette, thinking about what I wanted to do with my life.

I decided that I wouldn’t let it fuck up my day. I still went to the gym like I wanted to. I ran and I did pretty well. I like the gym in Beatrice more than the ones in Lincoln. It was quieter, emptier, smaller. It was homier and “lived in” feeling. It’s not new and ritzy and flashy. It has a dry sauna which I love. It has an area where I could do yoga by myself. I would never be able to make it to any of the classes they offer, but I think I’m ok with that.

Going to the gym made me more ok. After the gym, I drove into town. I went to the bank and withdrew the money for Ox. From there I went to my new wing place for lunch. If I was going to do something I didn’t want to do then I was going to reward myself with something that I did want and I gave zero fucks about it.

Left Brain: We’re having money issues… I don’t think spending anything is the best…

Right Brain: Go fuck yourself. All of the things!

Funny-Money-Meme-Thought-I-Had-Some-Money-And-Its-Gone-Image

Yeah… INFJ shadow traits at their finest…

The wing place isn’t as awesome as my sports bar in Orlando, but it’s passable. It’s something I think I could grow to enjoy. I read through some posts online while I waited for Ox to get off of work. He met me in the parking lot, I gave him the money, he drove to the bank and I drove home after stopping at Star Bucks because I wanted one of their coffee drinks that I hadn’t had in what felt like forever. It was another moment of, “Fuck it. I’m getting this and I’m not going to let the Universe make me feel bad for getting it” moments.

Daily Post 061: Ending A Long Day

Today has been a long day.

It started at 3:30 am. I showered, changing back into my night clothes afterward because I refuse to wear my scrubs or a bra any longer than I have to.

It’s part of my morning routine now. Wake up. Shower. Redress since I’m not actually dressed yet. Go downstairs, and yes that is on the “to do” list because that action sucks at 4 am and deserves a gold star for being accomplished. Brew coffee. Heat breakfast. Pack lunch. Fill water bottles. Clean dishes if there are any. Eat and drink, basking in the 15 minutes of silence and stillness I’m able to experience. Sigh when my alarm goes off. Actually get dressed. Make sure I have my cell phone, wallet, keys, and sunglasses not that I actually see sunlight on the days I work. Also check to ensure I have socks and my shoes packed in my gym bag since I wear my flipflops into work; yet another example of my defiance. I refuse to wear my shoes longer than I have to.

I enjoy having my cup of coffee still. I’m glad I haven’t given it up and that I reclaimed those moments for myself rather than trying to drink coffee on the way to work like I was for a few months. There have been times where I’ve let those moments, my coffee moments, last a bit longer than I “should”. I allow myself five more minutes of silence, sometimes ten more minutes. If I’m going to spend the next 16 hours giving and interacting and caring and being fully present, then I deserve an extra five minutes. I’m allowed those five minutes. On those days I still arrive to work on time, I’m just not as early as normal.

Today I didn’t do an extra five minutes. Today I woke up tired, but at the same time refreshed. I knew it would only be three hours at work. I KNEW when I would be leaving and that in itself did wonders for my perspective. I knew everything I was about to experience was voluntary. I knew I had the rest of my day ahead of me and I was looking forward to it.

Work actually went fairly smoothly. Everyone got on the machines on time aside from the one person who showed up late. One person called out from second shift so we were able to arrange for one of the third shift patients to come in early. While my fellow teammate was on break I was able to do ALL of the chores on our side. Before I came back from my own break I stopped by the stock room to load up on the things we needed.

Honestly, there was very little interaction with people today. Aside from treatment initiations and communicating with my teammates it was fairly quiet. It was nice. I even got to have the breakroom to myself since I was the last person to go.

The only shitty thing about work today was leaving my lunch box in the fridge at work, and even that isn’t really shitty so much as it is annoying.

Once I left work I drove to the gym for training. I changed out of my scrubs. I took off my ring and necklace and I committed myself to actually training today. I would make this a good day and with that in mind I took my water bottle and met up with L.

She had me start off by running a bit on the treadmill since I was early. I haven’t been running all that much but I’m pleased that I ran fairly well. I continue to feel stronger and better which I guess is a testament to how I am continuing to improve physically.

Today was intense at the gym. L didn’t hold back and neither did I. I told her how my core has been sore the past two days and how it was a good sore. It’s the type of sore that lets you know you’re getting stronger. The same with my arms.

We focused on legs today. There was a lot of jumping and burpees and inchworms and hating L’s next client for messaging that he was running late because that meant L wanted me to run my obstacle course a third time rather than only doing it twice. I beat my time each time, though, so I guess there’s that.

I was exhausted when I got home. By 10:30 I had already been awake for 7 hours on 4 hours of sleep. There’s some perspective that makes me feel better about my next action…

I curled up on the couch for an hour. I’ve felt bad-ish about that almost all day until the last sentence I wrote. No wonder I was as tired as I was. Not only had I gone to the gym. I had pretty much already done a full day and very little sleep. I totally earned that hour of rest. I take back all of the guilt I felt.

After my hour of rest, I ate then showered so I could donate plasma.

That’s been going well. My account is flagged since I got a tetanus booster shot on the 28th. I’m still allowed to donate, it just means it’s slightly more annoying to check in.

My arm is still sore this time. I think I might end up with a bruise again. I haven’t bruised up since we stopped using my median cubital veins. I was hoping those days were behind me since we found the awesome vein that we’ve been using, but alas, it too might be getting tired and want a break. I don’t blame it. Getting stabbed twice a week with a 17 gauge needle must suck.

The phlebotomist who normally sticks me even mentioned how the vein wasn’t popping as much is it normally does. I asked if that could be a hydration issue and she said that’s what she was worried about. The donation itself went well though and I can’t imagine drinking more water than I already had. I did over a gallon yesterday and was close to a gallon before donating today since I was awake so early in the morning.

I think next week I’m going to switch back to my right arm and see if we can find a better vein on that side. If not maybe using my medians again for a little while would be good. Site rotation and all that jazz.

Anyway, I ended up being pretty hydrated after all. Donation went well and by the time it was over and my arm was taped up it was time for me to head out to go to therapy. I haven’t been in a while. I think my last session was a week or two before Thanksgiving.

I cried a lot during this session.

I talked about my blow up fight with Warren over him ignoring my messages about rent. I talked about getting tired of Kyle. I talked about Jon’s situation. I talked about work and how school is starting.

We talked about mom a lot. I talked about how I felt bad realizing how little I’ve written to her, how little I’ve written this year in general. I talked about how this was supposed to be my year of stability and how I actually think I haven’t done half bad for myself.

She asked about the plasma donating and I explained that I felt better about it then I did in the beginning. I said since it feels like something I’m choosing to do rather than an obligation I’m being forced into that there was a sense of confidence and independence that came from it.

I don’t have to ask people for help. I’m helping myself and fuck anyone who stands in my way. Maybe there’s a level of defiance with it. I refuse to back down. I refuse to work overtime. I refuse to be more scared of an inch and a half piece of hollow metal versus 200 pounds of pure muscle trying to choke me out on the mat.

I refuse to be a victim and if donating helps me change the situation I’m in so I can eventually get out of it, then fine. I’ll do it, and I’ll still train and go to school and work full time while I do it.

That sounds all good and big and bad until I cry my eyes out in therapy and still have to drive myself home, get gas, and figure out food, all while I’m trying not to pass out behind the wheel.

Ok. I wasn’t that tired, but I was so ready to be home and done with the day. I stopped by a Taco Bell after donating but didn’t have time for a full meal before going to therapy. I think eating something helped, but it wasn’t enough, and I certainly didn’t drink enough.

I was tapped out and I knew it. I stopped for gas since I had 5 miles left on my gauge. I went to Publix since it was in the same plaza as the gas station and picked up a rotisserie chicken with coleslaw and a box of mac and cheese. Totally not the healthiest dinner but I wasn’t looking for health. I was looking for warm and tasty and on some level, comfort.

When I got home Kyle was watching something on the TV. I didn’t have it in me to care. I put my stuff down on the kitchen counter since opening the fridge was too much in that moment, then went directly upstairs to my room. For once I couldn’t hear the TV in my room. I normally can, even with my door closed. But today I couldn’t and it was amazing. I cuddled up with Scarlet and let the “not care” flow through me. I dozed for a bit, waking up to find Scarlet snuggled in the crook of my arm.

Eventually, I went back downstairs to eat. I wasn’t hungry but I knew I needed to do that. And drink. More drink than eat, but both were on the list. And switch the laundry because I started that before leaving the apartment to donate.

Kyle was in the middle of turning off the PlayStation which I was grateful for. He tried talking to me and showing me a facial rig some guy made in Unity, but I really couldn’t have cared less. I didn’t want sound. I didn’t want another person’s presence and eventually, he went back upstairs to do whatever.

I devoured most of the chicken barbarian style while I stood in the kitchen with the lights off and no sound. At some point, I managed to start the mac and cheese.

I watched a few episodes of Fate/Stay Night. I think I’m about halfway through the series now. I like the characters but the storyline is pretty weak, which is lame.

And so now here I am. Writing.

Jon wants to play WoW. To be fair I asked him earlier if he would be interested in gaming tonight, but right now I don’t know if I have it in me. Maybe if we were just running around doing easy quests but I really don’t feel like healing our way through dungeons. I don’t want to have to think or do anything important.

I guess I’m going to go for now and see what can be done as far as a compromise. Maybe it will work out that we game on Sunday instead. I do know I have another liter of water to get through before I’m happy with my water intake. So much water. Oh my gawd. >.<;

Seriously. I don’t understand how my eyeballs aren’t floating around inside of my head with how much water I’ve been trying to drink.

Oh. No studying happened today, but I’m ok with that. I’ve done really well this week and I still have two days of work to survive.

I got this.

iQBQTwv

Daily Post 058: Better Then They Have Been

Written earlier this morning.

I’m physically tired right now. It’s taken me about an hour to recover from my training session with L. We worked inner thighs pretty hardcore today since I told her that’s where I feel weak. Tuesday was shoulders and back and I can still feel the tiredness there as well.

I suppose a lot of my tiredness comes from being so active this week after such a hard lull the previous week.

Thanksgiving was pretty good for a shitty day. All of the days leading up to it sucked. I watched Fate/Zero in its entireity in two days. I didn’t feel back about taking over the living room for those two days. I’m hardly ever home. No regrets or remorse.

The show was alright but I didn’t really connect with any of the characters. I watched it more because I wanted to watch Fate/Stay Night which I’ve been told is good. Since I made it through all of Zero I started watching Stay Night Wednesday evening and continued throughout Thanksgiving day with my brother.

I have to admit that one of the reasons I’ve avoided watching these anime for so long is because Zane watched them before we dated. I can remember him having conversations with other people about the show and so I’ve always associated the Fate series with him. Sort of like how I associate Burn Notice with Corey. I don’t know if it’s really overcoming anything to finally watch the series, but it feels less like Zane’s and more like any of the other story lines in my head.

Jon actually took care of most of the cooking, which was a fantastic change from last year where I did all of it and then no one ate anything.

I actually woke up thinking about ditching and just staying home and being sad. I didn’t want to get out of bed. The thought of having to take a shower was borderline too much on top of having to drive the hour up to Daytona. I didn’t like the idea of having to stay with my roommates even less.

Instead, I made a compromise. I would stay in my pjs, get in the car, and make it to my brother’s place. That’s all I had to do. The only “requirement” of my day was driving. Everything else was icing on the cake that I didn’t “have” to do. My brother wouldn’t care if I was in pjs or not. He cared if I showed up. If showering compromised my energy levels for completing the trip then it was ok for it to not happen.

So that’s what I did. I got in my car and drove up to his apartment. There was a hot cup of coffee waiting for me and a hug and no judgment. Only acceptance, and understanding.

I helped a bit in the kitchen when he wanted/asked for it. I helped load the dishwasher a few times, too, so I wasn’t a total slacker and mooch. The turkey was brined which was the first time I had anything like that and it was amazing. Jon is now Lord of the Turkey and we have plans to do pretty much the same thing for Christmas since neither of us can get out to Vegas to spend it with our older brother.

Jon did have a friend come over for Thanksgiving. I guess he didn’t have anywhere else to go and Jon didn’t want him to be alone. It was super socially awkward and Jon even sent me text messages while we were all in the living room asking me not to kill him for inviting the guy over and saying he was sorry. He essentially begged for my forgiveness which I thought was cute.

I told him he owed me and he agreed. Jon said he had forgotten how “off” the guy had been the few times they had hung out. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t all that bad.

Towards the end of the evening, Jon’s roommates came back home and said that their family was going to show up to play board games. Roughly six people in total. That totally went against all of the plans they had agreed to previously with Jon, leaving the apartment empty so he and I could have a place for our own Thanksgiving. When we asked when their family was supposed to show up his roommates said they weren’t sure. Just that they would be there at some point.

I didn’t have a bra on… There was no way I was going to be ok with being in the middle of surviving my second Thanksgiving without mom and dealing with six strangers having a good time while not being “presentable”. Fuck that shit. Like, for real.

I ended up leaving before they showed up. In fact, I’m actually not sure if they ever did. Jon hasn’t mentioned it in any of our conversations. I was sent home with leftovers, a big bear hug, and the whispered words of “You’ll be ok” echoing in my ears as I cried the whole drive home. The leftovers are what got me through the next couple of days because I didn’t do any sort of cooking or prep work on my days off due to being sad.

I don’t remember which day I started feeling better. Maybe it was when I came back home Friday. I know that day at the clinic wasn’t bad even though I thought it would be. One of my coworkers called out sick so we were short a person. My boss came out and worked the floor on my side of the clinic, so that was pretty awesome. The times he’s worked on the floor he normally takes my spot to see how the changes they’re making to the schedule work. This was the first time we worked closely together and he was very complimentary at the end saying that I did what had to be done.

I was expecting that day to totally suck, but it ended up being one of the smoother ones I’ve worked. It was good to see all of my patients and to hear about their Thanksgivings and how they got to see their friends and family and eat good food and enjoy their day. It was nice to share that mine had turned out better than I expected and that I spent it with my brother who made a fantastic meal for us.

I guess going to work forced me to get up. It forced me to not sit at home in the dark where the only things to keep me from thinking about the pain are anima, alcohol, and cigarettes. It made me go out and see people who care about me and who are grateful that I’m alive and do the things I do. It made me go out and connect to things that feel worth it, so for that I am grateful. I may dislike my job, but I’m glad that I have one that gives me purpose.

Warren and I had a fairly friendly conversation. He’s paid full rent for this month. That’s the first time he’s paid fully two months in a row. I’m hoping that December continues with this positive change. This is the month where he should be able to start paying in advance rather than having me use my own money to cover for him and then him paying me back. It would be nice to not feel tension and tightness in my chest when I pay bills. It will be nice to feel secure in the fact that I know everything will be taken care of.

My main mission is still to survive until January. I feel more confident in my ability to do that, especially since it’s only two and a half weeks until my week off. I haven’t figured out anything that I want to really do that week. Maybe getting my hair bleached again since the roots have grown out so far. Maybe it would be good to talk to Big Bad and see if there’s anything he would like to do and if he still plans to take that week off with me or not.

I had thought of giving up personal training for the coming month and solely focusing on work and my certification. I have since decided against that. I want to keep training the little bit that I am, which leads to this week and why I’m so tired right now.

Sunday started with messaging Big Bad. It was light and playful until he asked me if I had had a cigarette since our last time together. I said yes, less than what I normally would have done, but more than none.

His reply message of “I’m disappointed in this behavior” was more soul-crushing that I expected it to be. I actually sat crying at my computer for a little while. I know a lot of people don’t like me smoking and I have always acknowledged and accepted that fact. I don’t like it either.

I decided, after my cry session, that I wouldn’t smoke anymore. I went outside and had my last one and while I smoked it I asked mom to help make it my last one. I wasn’t prepared for those emotions either because asking that made me feel like I was losing a part of her all over again.

Yeah… Sunday was a day full of emotions after a week of already heavy emotions. So tired of emotions right now…

I hadn’t realized I was using smoking as a way to feel close to her. At least I didn’t realize it as consciously as my awareness became during that last cigarette. I cried during it but stuck to my word and threw the rest of the pack away.

Once I was back inside I sat down and wrote an email to Big Bad explaining why I had been smoking these past months and how his message had hurt because I don’t want to let him down. He’s been so supportive and accepting throughout this past year that the thought of letting him down feels like a betrayal in a way.

I haven’t had a cigarette since Sunday. I know that’s not a lot to go on, but I’m content with it so far. The first month is going to be the hardest, especially towards the center of it. So really, this coming week and the week after are the ones I want to really get through.

Big Bad responded to my email saying he was proud of me and that I can do anything. I felt better even though I was emotionally tapped out. I felt more solid and stable. It felt like I had finally made a stand about the whole smoking thing and confronted some heavy things I had been avoiding.

Jon came down and we had lunch together while studying for his Anatomy test. We started with the section for the brain, which was amazing, and then moved into the spine. I think we were both in need of some more time together. We agreed to start playing new characters in World of Warcraft. Horde side this time so I have more drive to actually play. Since Monday was a day off for me we spent most of Sunday night leveling our characters.

While I waited for him to drive home I cleaned my room and the apartment. I ended up doing four loads of laundry to wash all of my blankets and sheets as well as my clothes. Kyle cooked a chicken alfredo dinner and let me have some. It was a pretty low key night after what ended up being a pretty intense day.

Monday went well. It started with canceled breakfast plans. I had made plans with Mrs. G, a former classmate from DaVita’s training program, to meet since we haven’t seen each other in almost six months, if not longer, but she’s been having headaches and asked if we could raincheck out meeting. Though I really do want to see her, I was ok with the cancellation.

It meant that I was able to go to boxing instead, which I think I needed. I didn’t do as well as I’ve done in the past. I was also late because I stopped to pick up my new glasses first. I didn’t let that stop me from going, though. I still went in while everyone was warming up. I put on my shin guards and gloves even though I knew there wouldn’t be any kicking. It’s part of my ritual, just like taking off my necklace and ring. I always do these actions and I will not compromise them just to get onto the mat fast enough to make someone else happy.

I pushed myself pretty hard. I can tell there’s a difference in my core strength. I can feel how my punches, especially my hooks, are stronger, harder. It’s a good feeling. I stayed for all of the core section of the workout, which I sometimes skip out on. For not having done any sort of workout for a while I was happy with my effort. It was a total body sweat. I got to talk to the instructor who was one of my favorites. In January he’s going to begin working with me on footwork and how to move around in the ring with an opponent. I’m looking forward to it.

I took a nap when I got home. I did some cooking. A lot of things were already taken care of due to my burst of motivation Sunday. I ended up going out and finding a new nightshirt to wear at Salvation Army and having a sandwich for dinner at Arby’s.

I spent the evening with Big Bad. We watched a few episodes of Stranger Things. He said he tried watching some of it without me but it wasn’t the same. That gave me warm fuzzy feelings. I got to wear my new top while we cuddled on the couch. It was another quiet, relaxing night after a fairly productive day.

Tuesday was a busy day. I knew it would be and I knew I would be tired before it even began. With how productive I had been Sunday and Monday I knew Tuesday was going to be rough, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I wasn’t going to back out of any of my obligations so instead, I tackled everything head on.

I trained for the second day in a row which is a first for a very long time. That’s where L tore up my shoulders. We did some box jumping as well. Only the red box, but that’s what I wanted. I told her I would rather warm back up into things successfully rather than trying to push too far too fast and compromise my confidence. I’m ok with being on the low side this week.

After training, I donated plasma. I wasn’t as hydrated as I wanted to be, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the one donation where I almost passed out twice. After donating I had a doctors appointment. I had been instructed to fast for the blood work I needed to get done for my bio screening, which is supposed to save me something like $800 on my healthcare premium. So even though I trained and donated, I hadn’t eaten for eight hours. I was edging towards a bitchy mood and I could tell.

I made it to the appointment on time. Didn’t have to pay anything since it counts as my yearly physical. Had to get a tetanus booster shot, and then drive over to the place where they actually do the blood work to have that done. So I got stabbed three times on Tuesday. All while not eating anything. So hangry.

I’m grateful I was able to get the blood work done and out of the way, though. Since I went to the clinic so late there wasn’t a wait time. I was seen pretty much immediately and was assured my results would be in by Thursday, which was perfect. Thursday was my next day off, so my doctor said to come by the office during the afternoon to let her complete the form I needed to be filled out. So I was able to get most of my healthcare stuff taken care of. The only things left were to have the paper filled out and to submit it via the online portal, both supposedly easy things to accomplish on my next day off.

Tuesday was also Nicole’s birthday. We were chatting throughout the day and eventually made plans to meet at a Cracker Barrel for dinner. It was roughly 40 minutes away, but since she drives up to see me all the time I felt like even with how tired I was it was the least I could do to drive halfway to see her on her birthday.

Well… that ended up taking an extra 30 minutes to do because of rush hour traffic and car wrecks. I was super bitchy by the time I sat down, but luckily Nicole let me bitch while we ate our fill of biscuits with apple butter. I even got to order my Country Boy, “there’s no way you could possibly finish all of this food” breakfast. And yes. I did actually eat all of that food. Fuck anyone who thinks poorly of me for doing it. You try strength training, donating, doctor appointments, and driving through Orlando hell on no food for almost 10 hours and see if you don’t devour everything, too.

I will say it was amazing to finally get home. I slept deeply that night, though it wasn’t enough before I had to wake up for work on Wednesday.

Yesterday was rough. I was on my normal side at the clinic but I was paired with the newest team member, who works extremely slow because he’s still new, along with the preceptor who trained me, who is extremely thorough, but also a slow worker. That ended up making things extremely rough. My preceptor went and complained to my boss about the new guys which I didn’t think was fair because she also could have done more than what she did throughout the day. I am actually glad that he came out onto the floor later in the evening because it meant that I got to talk to him and give him my opinion.

I said I didn’t think it was that the new guy is a bad worker. I said I felt like everyone at the clinic has their own strengths and weaknesses and that right now, two slow workers together was not a good idea. He needs to be around two strong workers until he gets his confidence and speed up.

My boss was grateful for my input and I think it helped give a more unbiased opinion about the situation since I also voiced my opinion on how my preceptor handled/didn’t handle the day.

I was pretty dead by the time I got home. It was roughly a 14 hour day and six miles. Maybe closer to 15 hours, but once you get to a certain point it really doesn’t matter. A long day is a long day regardless of how many hours it is.

I ate dinner and checked my mail in Warcraft since I’m back to whoring the auction house. I showered not long after that and went to bed. I slept for a little bit but woke up around midnight hungry and thirsty.

I logged onto Warcraft and chatted with my brother who also happened to be on. I stayed up until around 2 before going back to sleep.

Since then I’ve woken up, gone to training, and am about to go back to the doctor so she can finish filling out my paperwork. After that, it’s donating plasma. Then lunch with maybe some light studying. Then back home to chill for the rest of the evening. I do need to cook one last meal. Doing a load of laundry would be good. But overall my requirements for the day are mostly done.

Speaking of, I’m going to cut this short so I don’t miss my appointment. I’m glad I took the time to write. It was nice reflecting back on everything that’s happened. I’m also glad things feel better than they have been.

Daily Post 056: Meditation Needed

Things have been ok. More ok than not.

My brother might be seeking therapy. He’s having a hard time and I can only do so much. I think it would be good for him to see a professional. Since he doesn’t have health insurance he’s having a hard time finding someone who doesn’t charge $120 an hour. Seriously… My brain can’t even…

I asked my therapist if she had any resources for the Daytona area. She mentioned a few and also offered to work with my brother if I was ok with it.

I am. I think she may be able to help Jon work through his self-worth issues and the feelings of abandonment and rejection he’s struggling with. I think there’s a lot of stuff still buried from mom’s death and his time in the Army. Maybe even from his divorce.

I need to send him my therapist’s contact information, but we’ve already talked on the phone and he knows that he has options now. I think that along helps him feel less lost.

Big Bad and I didn’t end up seeing each other. That sucked and is part of why I’m mostly flatlined today.

We were supposed to see each other Wednesday evening. He was feeling under the weather and I was exhausted from work. We decided to rain check the evening for Thursday instead.

I went to training Thursday. I stopped by the Salvation Army before going home to donate some odds and ends. I also found a swimsuit I liked so I can make use of the jacuzzi at the gym. I donated plasma later in the afternoon. I went to my sports bar afterward to eat and study for my certification. I went to the dojo that evening.

I didn’t do very well. And I guess I need to rephrase that. I did fantastic for already having trained once that day and donating plasma on top of all the other things I got done. I was fatigued before I even stepped on the mat.

We did a lot of cardio for the warm-up with rolls and cartwheels. I was paired with a newer guy I’ve never met who was also about half my size. It made performing the techniques hard. I didn’t want to be paired with someone I didn’t know. I really didn’t want to be learning a new technique. I would have preferred focusing on something I was already comfortable with.

Towards the end, I was paired with a purple belt. I explained why I was so tired. He said that was fine. We could spar for as long as I felt ok, but as soon I started feeling bad to let him know.

We did a few sort rounds alternating from starting in back mount. He was complimentary when I wormed my way out of his holds and answered my questions when I wasn’t sure about something.

I left before the class was over. I didn’t care if it looked bad to others. I haven’t been there much. I didn’t do much during the class. I didn’t stay for all of the sparring rounds.

Irrational Right Brain: Fuck you, Imaginary Judgemental Person. You have no idea what I have or have not done. You have no idea what my days are like or what I’m going through.

I messaged Big Bad once I was in my car. We had joked around earlier in the evening about playing video games but nothing had been definitively said about me coming over.

When I asked if he wanted company he said he was going to sleep soon and that maybe it would be better to hold off until Monday to see each other.

I’m proud that it didn’t feel like rejection or abandonment on my end. I do think that shows personal growth. My past hurts and insecurities have less sway and influence over my present emotions.

It still wasn’t a good feeling. I had been looking forward to seeing my companion more than once in a seven day period. I was looking forward to being cuddled with him and breathing in his scent. I was looking forward to not being alone.

It didn’t work out that way, though.

He sent a text message saying he missed me. I texted back saying I missed him, too.

Since I ended up with time to myself I went to the gym, put on my new swimsuit and alternated between the pool and jacuzzi. Cold helps with inflammation while heat helps promote blood flow and healing. I went back and forth a few times until I was ready to go home. My body felt better. I know I’ve been pushing it hard this week, especially since I did basically nothing last week. Compared to how I trained before I got this job I feel like I’ve been pretty inconsistent.

It’s weird. I know I’m at a higher level than what I was, but I also know I’m not where I want to be. I guess it’s like how I feel about my writing right now. I’m inconsistent. I let things get in the way. I’m tired of that.

I’ve been sort of sad since last night. Since not being able to fall asleep in Big Bad’s arms. It’s not the same type of sadness as when I hurt over mom. I haven’t thought too much about these feelings to understand them fully. I know what I feel is not rejection or abandonment, which is good. But there is something there that I need to figure out.

I had thought about not doing anything today. I thought about letting that sadness fuel a rest day. Stay home. Chillax. Be anti-social.

Irrational Right Brain: You’re not wallowing. You’re just indulging in not doing anything… Shhh… It’s ok…. Come to the dark side… we have cookies…

Instead, I ended up going to the gym for a HIIT class my trainer was running. Yes, my body was still sore. Fuck it. At least I could spend the rest of the day knowing I didn’t let sadness win.

Only one other person showed up to the class. It was nice to not have to deal with eight or more other people. It was just one other new person and she was pretty cool.

She said she had seen me on Tuesday doing my box jumps and that she was super impressed. I got to talk about how I’m training to be a fighter.

The class itself was pretty intense and I’m glad I went. Afterward, I came home and curled up on the couch for a while. Eventually, I was recovered enough to go upstairs and shower. I put away the clean clothes that were still in my laundry basket before filling it with all my dirty stuff and taking it downstairs.

I started a load of laundry and ran the dishwasher before heading out to my sports bar again. I’ve made it through another chapter in my certification book. I’m trying to make that a requirement on my “off” days. I need to get this certification out of the way, preferably before January so I can focus on school.

I paid rent. I had enough to cover all of it, but that only leaves me with $150 to my name with an electric bill, internect bill, car insurance payment, and phone bill to pay. I messaged Warren asking for his payment so I could pay all of my obligations. I haven’t gotten a reply from him yet. We actually haven’t spoken to each other since Kyle moved in. As long as he pays what he owes I don’t care. My opinion is still that he’s a man child and that our friendship will never be able to recover to what it once was.

My reward for studying and paying as many of the bills as I could was going through my email and catching up on the blogs I’m behind on. I’m also allowing myself the time to write.

There’s a randori session later today at the dojo. I know Jim will be there since he’s running it. I don’t know if I should go or not. I don’t feel like pushing myself. I think Jim would train with me if I asked him to. I haven’t made up my mind. If I don’t go I feel like it would be because I’m sad from not seeing Big Bad.

This is one of the few times I can make it to the dojo and yet I’m not going?

Maybe I do need to sit and meditate on a few things instead. Maybe doing a bit of emotional work would be better in the long run. My shoulder was giving me issues this morning, too. It was more of a sharp pain rather than a muscle pain. I had to modify a lot of the push-up work because it hurt to put weight on my left shoulder.

Blarg. I’ll figure it out.

For right now I’m going to go. I need to run to the store for laundry detergent, also a bottle of Fireball. At the moment drinking a little at the end of my nights is how I’m staying away from cigarettes.

I work tomorrow. Here’s hoping it goes smoothly.

Daily Post 053: This Feels Like a Long Post

A lot has happened in the last week so I’m going to start this off with a bullet list so I can remember to write about everything.

Apartment – Fight with Warren, K moving in
Social Life – Big Bad, Blacksmith, Mother Earth, Nicole
Work – Certification, Praise from RN
Workout – Yoga, Running, Jumping, and a Busted Knuckle
School – Because that’s a thing

Alright.

So…

The apartment…

I mentioned in my last post that Warren and I got into a spat. We still haven’t spoken to each other. I think he purposely ignored my messages on Facebook last night asking for the printer, but that’s fine. I went into his office this morning and got it myself. I’m not going to let the silent treatment prevent me from printing papers for college. If he didn’t want me in his space he should have given me my printer when I asked for it.

I guess it was Wednesday last week. I worked that night. A sixteen-hour shift. I swept up dog fur and vacuumed on Sunday. I had also cleaned the kitchen. I was frustrated to come home and find dirty dishes in the sink with Warren not home because he was out hanging with his new girlfriend.

On top of going out to play before being what I consider an adult, I happened to look at my bank account for the first time in a while.

Warren hasn’t paid rent for the past three weeks.

The agreement, now that his job pays him weekly, is that every paycheck he makes a payment of $150.

He’s given nothing in three weeks and didn’t tell me anything about not paying me.

I was beyond pissed and betrayed feeling after finding that out in addition to still having to do his dishes.

I made myself a drink and sulked in the dark living room for a while. I had work the next day but was too spun up to sleep. Fuming silently seemed like a better investment of my time.

Warren ended up coming home while I was still in the living room. He asked if I was ok. I asked if he had planned to tell me that he hadn’t paid rent in three weeks. He said that hurricane Irma really messed with his finances. He said he had meant to tell me but that he kept forgetting. I said he could have sent me a text. He said it was something he wanted to discuss in person.

I asked him why I should renew the lease with him. In a solid year, he has yet to pay rent reliably and still doesn’t take care of his own responsibilities even though he’s repeatedly told me he would. What benefit is there for me to be his roommate?

He said he was sorry and that I would get my money. He went off to the kitchen and started doing whatever he did. I went up to my room and cried my eyes out because I was so frustrated.

Here I am, again, in a shitty living situation with a guy. Doesn’t matter that he’s not my significant other. I’m owed $8k and all of the promises of “I’ll pay you back” are still empty words that mean nothing.

Later that night I got a text message saying I would have “my money” by the end of the month. As of right now I still haven’t been paid.

I sent a reply to his text message.

Me: Tonight wasn’t about money. Tonight was about how I’ve told you since you’ve moved in to just let me know what’s going on and you still leaving me in the dark. It’s about me finally getting to the breaking point where I’m done feeling like I’m being used. If you’re not going to pay rent reliably then at least sweep and vacuum up the dog fur. Or load the dishwasher with the dishes. If you have enough energy to get a new car and go out with people then you have five minutes to clean up after yourself before you go have fun.

I didn’t get a reply to my message until the following day at work. Warren sent me a novel of a message through Facebook saying I’m a hypocrite and dropping curse words all over the place.

Since I haven’t been able to think of anything nice to say to him I haven’t said anything at all. As far as I’m concerned at the moment he can go burn in hell.

I’m not his mother. I’m not going to remind him, weekly, that he has a dog. He’s had one for at least four years. Long before moving in with me. He doesn’t “forget” to feed Burno. He doesn’t forget to take the dog outside to use the bathroom. “Forgetting” that his dog shreds like a German Shepard is an excuse to be lazy.

I’m not going to say, “Now, Warren. Remember to sweep the hallway. And don’t forget to brush your teeth before you go to sleep.”

He’s an adult. Just like me. No one reminds me to pay my car insurance on time. Or to make sure I clean Scarlet’s litter box. I’m not going to make sure he “adults”.

Fuck that. He’s older than me. Get your shit together or find someone who’s willing to have a man-child.

So that’s where we’re at. My friends don’t curse at me. My friends don’t use hurricanes as excuses to not tell me “oh, by the way, that money you needed to pay the power and internet bill, you know, those things I use for work, I’m not going to give you”.

I had to go out and buy provisions for the hurricane, too. That didn’t make it ok for me to not pay bills. That still had to get done. And the hurricane didn’t last for three weeks. Zero fucks given about whatever “reasons” he has.

We’re both in victim mentalities right now I think. Me with, “he’s not being fair,” and him with, “she’s a hypocritical bitch.”

I’m fine with that. I’ve been doing the dishes and taking out the trash on my own and you know what? The apartment looks the way I want it to without having to wait on someone else to hold up their end of the agreement.

I’ve had less stress at home this past week then I have for a while and it’s mainly because I’ve stopped caring. I’ve come to the conclusion that I can rely on Warren to be unreliable. With that mentality, I’ve let go of a lot of things. At the moment I’m ok with renewing the lease, mostly because I don’t have a choice.

Karen and I are meeting tonight for her to sign the application. That should be squared away by next week. Then it will be a matter of getting Warren to “make time” in his ever so busy schedule to vacate the two smaller rooms and move into the master bedroom.

Yes, I am still in bitch mode. I know he’s going to have “anxiety” over moving stuff around, and our schedules aren’t going to line up, and it’s going to end up being a clusterfuck that I take care of on my own. If it doesn’t go that way then at least I can be pleasantly surprised. If not then at least I’m not disappointed. That whole reliably unreliable thing…

So that’s the developments with the apartment. Fun times.

On to my social life…

Things with Big Bad are going well. We spent last night together. Last week there was a development that added another dimension to our relationship; the addition of consensual non-concent play. We’ve always had an element of BDSM in our dynamic but this was something we / I have stayed away from. Even with my blacksmith, I haven’t really done anything with it, mostly because I still have flashbacks sometimes.

The experience I had with Big Bad was amazing and something we both enjoyed and though I don’t think I’m cured or anything it is liberating to be able to explore this side of myself again after so long. It’s been four, maybe even five years now.

BDSM rape fantasies aren’t something you can talk about with most of the populace, let alone role play with a partner. It feels like we’re closer. There’s a level of acceptance between us that is more solid than it was before last week.

We don’t think either of us is a weird, sick fuckup for getting enjoyment from each other. It works for us and we’re the only people it has to work for because we’re the only people in our relationship.

I keep waiting for my relationship with him to have some horrible flaw that cripples us, but there hasn’t been one in over a year and it doesn’t feel like one is on the horizon. I’m just so used to there being one that the lack of one feels foreign, almost wrong.

So far things are good, though. Beyond good. They’re stable and warm and caring and supportive and everything I had given up on finding after Zane and I broke up.

My blacksmith is going through a lot right now. I don’t remember if I wrote about it or not. They found a growth. It’s non-cancerous. He’s on medication for the next three months to get rid of whatever it is. I don’t have details. I know the medication makes him sick and that he has to fight through exhaustion while still working doubles at work.

A tree fell on part of his house during Irma. One of the house’s bathrooms, closets, and part of the back patio are messed up, but none of the living spaces were damaged. Insurance is supposed to cover everything. Until it does part of his house is boarded up.

I don’t know when we’ll be able to see each other again. I’m guessing not for a while. Four months at least. Enough time for the medication to hopefully work. I’m not sure what will happen if it doesn’t.

It’s humbling. I left my previous career partly because I spent two weeks in a hospital holding my mom’s hand. Two weeks of sitting there with a Bachelor’s of Science and being unable to do anything other than worry.

Here I am, in the medical field, and I still wouldn’t have been able to do anything during the biopsy. I still can only sit and wait and be patient and hold my shit together even though all I want is to be told that things are ok. That they will be ok. That nothing bad is going to happen.

But that’s not how life works. No one can promise that because no one has that type of control. Those words are a lie and I refuse to tell them to myself and even though other people say them to me I don’t allow them in. I don’t accept lies.

I say things like, “It will work out how it’s supposed to,” and maybe that’s just as messed up. Maybe that’s just another lie.

It’s the one I listen to though. It allows me to accept that I don’t have control. I don’t have control over what is happening or what will happen. All I can do is accept what Life deems “right”. It doesn’t take away the fear of “this is the end”. The fear of “this is where he’ll release me because he can no longer be my Master.”

It sucks. I know he needs me to be strong. He has enough going on without having to worry about making sure I’m ok, too.

I’m fine, even with the annoyances of work, the apartment, and Life in general. I survived mom’s death. I can survive this. I can survive his death, too, if it comes to that. I know I can. He would want me to.

Mother Earth and I have been doing well. She reads my blog. She mentioned that I don’t write much about when we hang out. I know I haven’t and some of the reasons are intentional while other reasons aren’t.

Part of it is I know other people in our mutual lives read my blog. I don’t know why that has anything to do with anything, but it does. Maybe it’s because I feel like they’ll comment about what I write rather than having a discussion with me.

Part of it is a lack of writing in general. The days I’m able to write are often long after Mother Earth and I have spent time together, and so the more imidate things on my mind are not our moments together. They’re also not moments that I feel I need to work through. I mean, there are emotions, and there’s still stuff in our past I need to make peace with, but overall I feel accepted and restored when we’re together. Our moments help keep me sane and mostly stable. They’re also something I want to hold close to myself, like a precious piece of something that isn’t meant for everyone. It’s mine and it’s ok for it to stay that way; to not be shared.

She’s my Mother Earth and I’m her Earth Dragon and nothing further needs to be explained to anyone.

I do feel like she gets the short end of the stick when it comes to my social life. Big Bad is actually the only one I am consistent with. The only one I make a real effort to work my schedule around for. Other than that I spend all of my time trying to train at the gym or working. Other social obligations feel just like that, like obligations.

I know Nicole wants to spend more time with me. She messaged me just this morning wanting to go to the beach and all I can think of is how I would much rather NOT go. I could sleep instead. I could spend all of that time not traveling. I could save all of that money instead of spending it.

The pros for the trip do not out-weight the cons for me and so I find myself extremely reluctant to take steps to make it happen. I don’t really want to drive the hour to visit her either which isn’t fair.

Nicole likes being in my neck of the woods more, so it hasn’t been an issue, but I’m aware of the imbalance in our relationship. I don’t drive to see her. I don’t go out of my way to “hang out” even though I enjoy our time together.

I feel like it’s similar to Mother Earth. We have this relationship, this dynamic, whatever it is, and yet I’m not sure I’m fully present for it.

I am present when we’re together, but I’m so focused on my calendar; when can I train, how early to I have to be to work, will I be able to squeeze in grocery shopping…

And now I’m looking at adding school into the mix. Is any of this fair to the people in my life? I want to do the things I want to do, but that doesn’t leave much time for downtime where I can recover, or social time for anyone else.

It’s something I need to meditate on and figure out. I don’t want to add scheduled date nights onto my calendar but I’ve already done that for one person, so not doing it for others seems unfair. And none of this even touched on the topic of spending time with my younger brother or figuring out traveling for the holidays or what to do for Thanksgiving this year since last year sucked as far as my vote goes.

Blarg. Overall I think I’m doing alright with my social life and that it’s really just stuff I need to figure out for myself. No one is putting pressure on me. It’s all inside of my own head.

Work is going well. I got a text message from my boss earlier this afternoon saying the census will be low tomorrow and to take the day off. Don’t mind if I do. I was looking at four days this week, three of them being 16-hour shifts. I’m cool with not working one of those.

I’m going to begin studying for my certification. I also will be going back to school and there’s reimbursement from the company I need to look into since I’m most likely going to be going for a Nursing degree…

Yeah… I know… more on that later I promise.

I’ve officially been out of training for three months. That’s a nifty feeling. I still haven’t heard about when I can take the CVC class or when I’m allowed to actually take the certification, but I’ll be prepared for that day whenever it ends up being.

There was one particular moment this week at work that I want to reflect on. I’ve written about this particular patient before. Mr. A. He’s the patient who didn’t want to come into the center for his treatment. The one I hugged and told him I hoped he felt better. The one who said the reason he came inside was so he could see me.

Mr. A is awesome and he’s one of the patients I enjoy seeing even though other people I work with would describe him as “needy”. He asks for a lot of stuff. He likes the interaction. He likes to talk and do magic tricks like pulling a dollar bill out of his hat. I don’t know why but I like him and he’s one of the people I don’t mind doing things for because I like seeing him smile. I like making him feel like there’s still good stuff in the world to experience, even if it’s just a simple cup of coffee that I bring for him while he’s on the machine.

Mr. A used to be a CVC patient, but his fistula has been deemed mature enough to use for his dialysis treatment. That means he has to be cannulated with 15 gauge needles.

I don’t care who you are, getting stabbed sucks.

He didn’t want to have the needles for his treatment. He wanted to use the CVC. I explained that we could use the CVC but that it had more risks associated with it and that the better option would be to use the fistula even though it hurt more in the beginning.

He said he would do it for two cups of coffee. I smiled and said we had a deal. One cup for each needle.

He said ok. I could use the fistula then but to try to make it not hurt. I put my hand in his and squeezed, saying I would do my best not to. We were quiet for a second as I held his hand. I was debating saying something further. Should I say it or not? Should I keep going with the procedure or be vulnerable, too?

I decided to be vulnerable.

Me: It hurts me, too, Mr. A.

I said it in a small, quiet voice. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes because it does hurt me. It makes my heart seize every time I see one of my patients flinch in pain as I insert a needle. And I have to do it, not once, but twice. I have to hurt them. I’m paid to hurt them, and thinking of it in those terms makes me feel like the shittiest human being.

I squeezed Mr. A’s hand again before setting up what I needed for the procedure. I felt his arm before I cleaned the area. His fistula is a little deep, but not too bad. It feels solid; like it won’t roll much. I can tell it’s fairly new with how small it feels in comparison to some of the patients who have had their fistulas for years.

I had a moment of self-doubt. Maybe I should call someone else over. Maybe I wasn’t the right person to do this. What if I fucked up?

No. I would do this. I would try. I know I’m not the best, but Mr. A agreed to use the fistula because I was his tech. This was my procedure, my patient, and I wouldn’t let him down.

I took a deep breath as I stretched the skin on his arm. I said a silent prayer to Freya asking for my aim to be true and inserted the needle. I let out my breath as I saw flack back within the needle line. I was in. I advanced the needle. It went smoothly. I secured the needle with tape and allowed myself in inhale again as I stood back up.

Mr. A: Is it in?
Me: Yep. Only one more to go.
Mr. A: That didn’t hurt at all. You know how to treat a man.

I smiled an uncontrollable smile. He’s too cute sometimes. The second needle went in just a smoothly. Again, Mr. A mentioned how it didn’t hurt “too bad”. I completed the procedure and got his treatment started.

Mrs. Flo, the RN I’ve written about before, the one who’s approval is the end-all be-all to my medical career, came up to me afterward and congratulated me.

Mrs. Flo: Very, very good.

I know Mr. A can be a handful. I know he almost always refuses to come in for his treatments, or constantly asks for things, but I don’t mind. I don’t mind listening to him and letting him know that I hear him. I don’t mind taking an extra 10 minutes to get him on the machine if it means I can hold his hand and admit for the first time to someone that it hurts me, too.

It filled me with pride to know Mrs. Flo had been watching and that she approved of how I handled the situation. It made me feel even though I might still mess up that I’m doing well. Her approval means so much more than anyone else’s I’ve received so far. I’ve got this.

So that’s work. It’s going well and I’m hoping for it to continue to improve. We just requested our days for the new schedule. I should be capped at three days, and with the changes I made to my tax information I should be alright for a little bit; even better once I get my certification and the dollar increase to my wage.

Onward to talking about workouts. : D

I’m pretty sure I typed about the yoga class I did last week. It was awesome. I enjoyed it. It met the quota of “at least one yoga class a week”. I failed hardcore on the running aspect, though, so that was kind of lame.

Part of it was I went to dinner with Mother Earth and Josh one of the nights I was supposed to run. The other was I didn’t push through my tiredness on the other night. No one to blame but myself.

Yesterday I went to Title Club Boxing instead of the dojo. Since Big Bad and I had plans for the evening I felt it would be better to go there since they have a shower and are already halfway to his place.

Since at the time I was waiting for Warren to not be a dick and to give me the printer, I decided to go to what was listed as a “technique” class. It ended up being more of a boot camp conditioning class. I was ok with that. It was 30 minutes of intense workout and super fun. I stayed for the boxing class afterward which was an additional hour.

Once it was done I showered then went to Big Bad’s. It wasn’t until this morning that I really noticed the first knuckle of my right index finger. It hurts-ish. More a low level of discomfort than real pain. There’s a popping / grinding feeling whenever I curl my fingers and if I extend my finger out like if I’m pointing at someone, I can feel a sharpish edge of something poking into my skin. It’s swollen in comparison to my other index finger and I can see a difference in how the skin folds when my finger is extended…

Yeah… not cool bro.

After reading different articles online and talking with my trainer I plan to wait and see what happens. A lot of things say it’s most likely inflammation and overuse, not like I was using it all that much aside from my one boxing class in weeks…

I can tell the swelling has gone down as the day’s progressed. I plan to get some ibuprofen while I’m at the store since that was something mentioned in the forums. If the pain increases or if it doesn’t continue to get better as the days progress I will, undoubtedly, go get it looked at. I want to see if my body can take care of itself first. If I were in more pain I would be more worried. At the moment I’m being cautious.

My workout with L today was awesome. She’s very supportive of me gearing up to be back in school (again, more on that later). When I mentioned my knuckle she looked at it and told me modifications I could during my workout so I wouldn’t have to grip things as much.

Next Tuesday she’s going to have me try jumping the red box… that escalated faster than I thought it would. She’s confident I can do it. She said I’m clearing the blue box with a fair amount of room to spare. She said jumping the red box is more of a mental hurdle than a physical one. Physically I can do it. Mentally I need to tell myself I can do it rather than looking at it like an impossible task. But it’s the red box… >.<;

I can tell my core is continuing to improve. I could tell last night at Title Club while I was throwing hooks how I’m able to generate more power within my torso. It’s a cool feeling. It’s also helping me with the plyometrics L is having me do. I’m able to do the core workouts better, for longer, and faster; definitely with less of an “I’m dying please kill me” feeling.

I also happened to dig out my long sleeved stuff to see what would fit this year. Two shirts I’ve kept since I graduated high school fit me again. Actually, one of them I was never able to wear. I bought the shirt while I was working as a stocker at JCP. At the time I had been working on losing weight and it was my “reward” shirt. A super pretty, deep purple oriental type shirt with long flowing sleeves.

I was able to fit into it for the first time last night. I don’t know when I’ll wear it out. I want it to be for something special. I want to feel pretty while I wear it. Makeup and everything. No icky faded hair. Nope. Fresh dye, eyebrows waxed. The whole nine yards.

I’ve waited six years to wear this shirt. I’m going to make sure I’m the hottest thing this side of the sun when I go out in it.

That’s it as far as working out goes. Trying not to fuck up my body too much while still making progress. I still need to sign up for the Spartan race. Before I do that I need to make sure Big Bad really would be ok with me running without him. He has his daughter’s that weekend and wouldn’t be able to go with me. More meditation is required.

The last thing to talk about is school. Not that I haven’t written a small novel already.

So school has changed a bit, again.

I applied to Seminole State College. I found out Monday, yesterday, that I was accepted. I dropped a pretty penny on getting copies of all of my transcripts. I had copies sent to the college, but also to myself since I’m tired of not having that information when I need it. I mean really… who remembers and/or cares about exact day of their graduation? >.<

That’s essentially six transcripts I had to pay for. I guess it’s worth it. I mean, if it gets me to where I want to go then I’m cool with it, and it will be nice to have “unofficial” copies to keep in my “box of important stuff”.

I was looking further into the Sports and Exercise Science degree and realized that it’s a transfer degree to UCF’s Bachelor’s program, so I wouldn’t really be getting what I want for a while… Lame…

That got me thinking this morning though… Maybe I should do the Associate RN degree first since a lot of the classes for the Nursing and Sports and Excercise Science degrees crossover.

That would let me vertically move within the company, or potentially leave for something else, while still working towards my SECD (sports and exercise science degree because there’s no way I’m going to type that out every time).

That would give me time to figure out if I really want to pursue another Bachelor’s degree. I’m pretty sure I do, but I’m also pretty sure I want to make more money while I do it. Basically, after getting my RN degree, I would do the SECD. After completing the degree at Seminole State I would transfer into UCF I would be a junior. I would be in the Human Performance path and I would be working towards a minor in fitness training.

I finished the application process for the college so now it’s really just a waiting game. I get to talk to my advisor next Tuesday. That’s where I’ll be able to really battle plan everything out. I want to see if I can take one of the B Session classes this fall. That’s essentially a fast forward class. Instead of taking 16 weeks and doing a full semester. I would only be doing about 6 or 8 weeks for the class. If I could get through English II or another Gen Ed that would be nice. Go ahead and get it out of the way.

I’ll be finding out what, if any, of my previous classes, transfer on Tuesday as well. I’m hoping for at least two. Four or more would be better but Full Sail is lame with how they label their classes so my Public Speaking and Physics might not count.

I applied for financial aid though I’m not expecting to get much if anything. Right now all if it is “wait and see” so since that’s the end of what I have to write about I guess I’ll go ahead and get going to I can grocery shop and do the cooking before meeting Karen tonight.

Life is going, some areas of it smoother than others, but I’m pretty ok with how I’m coping. Go me.

Daily Post 052: Mostly Caught Up

I wrote this the night before last (Tuesday evening) but didn’t have the time to proofread so it’s being posted now. And just a heads up, Warren and I had a spat last night about him not paying rent, again, and not telling me about it… so yeah… that’s going to be a super fun time hashing out all of the emotional fallout when I write tomorrow morning.

It’s whatever though. I survived mom’s death. I can survive this. I’m going to enjoy my night with Big Bad tonight and beat Life into submission later.

Until then, here’s Monday and Tuesday.

I’m finally caught up with writing. It’s a weird feeling. Everything is fresh. I can put the emotions and experiences away properly, reflecting on them, analyzing them and then letting them go to where they belong.

Monday was a good day. I opened so the clinic was quiet and empty. The other opener was already there so the machines had been turned on. I like starting the day like that; at square one. I know everything that needs to get done and I know how to do it. There isn’t anything that’s “gone wrong” yet.

Changeover for second shift was a little rough because one of my coworkers was late. We got caught up though and everyone started their treatment on time. At least, everyone who showed up on time, that is. We’ve been having issues with transportation being late, so people aren’t able to get their full treatment. One of the cool / good things about being the lowest person on the totem pole is I don’t have to worry about fixing admin problems like that. Woohoo for not having to make phone calls.

During lunch, I stopped by my FA’s office and asked if we could make an arrangement to sit and chat on Friday. He said he had time now if I wanted to. Since I don’t like waiting and neither does he we went ahead and hashed my issues out.

I started off with explaining how I wanted to go back to school and that’s the main reason I wanted to wait until Friday because I didn’t have much information about it. I explained how I wanted to go for an Exercise Science degree and that at the moment I don’t actively plan to use it for a career change. The thought of going to school and learning about something I’m interested in makes me happy. It makes me want to get out of bed in the morning.

When I asked how school would work with work he said they would do their best to maintain my full-time hours in regards to my classes. Essentially I let them know what days I can’t work and they give me what they can.

So that’s pretty awesome to know. Work will be flexible with my potential future inflexibility.

I went on to talk about how one of the things I’m trying to do is find better work/life balance and how I’ve been having a hard time finding it on my own. My true fulfillment comes from the dojo, but working long shifts so many days out of the week keeps me from being there even on my days off.

Before I said anything further he offered to reduce my days to three. I said if it was possible to do that and not adversely affect the team that I would be beyond grateful. He said it wasn’t a problem. There are teammates who want more hours so it, in theory, would actually help for me to work less. As long as I meet the minimum requirements to qualify as “full-time” then everything is good.

I can still have my Monday/Tuesday arrangement so I can have my evenings with Big Bad, which is great because I can keep that small bit of consistency along with always having Sunday off.

I also disclosed how my rent is going up and asked if there was any way for me to make myself more valuable to the company to receive an increased wage.

He said unfortunately because I’m still such a new hire, there wasn’t much I could do.

I said I understood that because I do. I haven’t even been out of training for three months yet and here I am asking for a raise. It was a long shot and I knew it.

I did ask about completing my certification. I asked if completing that was a possible raise or a guaranteed raise once it was achieved. He said it’s guaranteed so it’s something I can take steps towards. Mainly studying and making a fuck ton of flash cards like the nerd I am.

I asked if there was a time restriction on taking the test since originally I had been told there was, but later heard there wasn’t.

He said he wasn’t sure but he would look into it. He actually wrote it down on a notepad so for once I believe I’ll actually get information back about something.

As we were talking, since it was a pretty laid back and conversational atmosphere, I mentioned how I sort of screwed myself over by claiming zero allowances for my taxes, so there’s a large part of my paycheck I’m not actually receiving.

He said I could actually go into the computer and change a number of allowances I claim if I wanted to. I had no idea. For some reason, I thought tax stuff worked like benefit enrollment. You could only change it during certain times of the year or if you had a “qualifying” life change.

I guess not though, so that’s going to be something I look into/do. I want to do some calculations before actually changing it over. It’s nice to know I have that option available.

That pretty much covered all of my issues so I closed with asking how I was doing as an employee.

He said I’ve been doing great. No one has any complaints about working with me.

I asked if it would be possible to schedule myself for the CVC classes since I feel like a liability to my team by not being about to do catheter care. I’ve become secure and confident in my abilities as a tech to feel comfortable enough to learn something new, especially if it can help my team members out.

He said he knew it was a six-month waiting period but he wasn’t sure if it was six months from my hire date or six months from my “out of training” date. I said whatever made it happen sooner was cool in my book. I told him it would be cool if it could be “six months from when I was desperately look for a job” date. We both laughed.

There was actually a lot of laughter during our conversation despite how heavy my topics were. I really am lucky for having such an amazingly laid back supervisor.

Anywho, I’m tired of not being able to work with our CVC patients. We had five CVCs Monday morning. Five. That’s almost half my patients and the only things I can do with them were figure out their fluid removal goal, take their temperature. Oh. And get their blood pressure. Other than that I’m useless because it’s like I’m not even allowed to look at a CVC without having this “one day and now suddenly you’re an expert” class.

Arg. I may or may not have strong feelings over this. >.<;

The good news is my FA is totally on my side. He’s going to see about getting me into a class as soon as possible. Hooray.

He also said I could start learning how to mix bicarb, which would allow me to open the clinic more often. I’m totally cool with that. I want to learn more and I want to open more often. Learning bicarb hits both of those goals, so I’m totally down for it.

Other than not being able to touch CVCs apparently everyone is ok with me. That’s a relief to know. I haven’t crossed any lines or stepped on any toes, at least not that my FA’s aware of. I’m doing well and the issues I talked to him about aren’t new or unsurprising.

The meeting took way longer than my lunch break. When I got back to the floor I explained I had been in the FA’s office talking about potentially going back to school. That sparked a really interesting conversation that lasted for most of the second shift.

The third shift started and the change over was pretty smooth. I was able to leave the clinic shortly after 4 pm.

Originally I wasn’t scheduled to open so I was supposed to stay at the clinic until around 8pm which totally screwed over my plans for seeing Big Bad. I was able to switch shifts with a coworker on Saturday, which is why I did end up working my “normal” shift, but because I wasn’t able to switch with her pretty much the day before I worked, Big Bad and I had already rescheduled our evening together to Thursday.

That meant I had all of Monday evening to myself, so I went home, showered, had a quick snack, then went to the dojo. It was something I had been looking forward to the whole day.

They’ve changed the class schedule at the dojo so every hour they run two classes instead of one. I chose to do the submission grappling (no-gi) class versus Muay Thia.

One of the black belts ran the class. He’s a super cool guy. I was actually at the belting ceremony where he ranked up into black. I enjoy it when he instructs. Because there was an odd number of people at class that night, with me being the only girl, the instructor paired with me so I got one on one training essentually.

It. Was. Awesome.

He’s always super chill and answers all of my questions, which I normally have a lot.

Me: Why do you do it this way? What happens if they do this? Could you do this instead and it still be effective? Where am I supposed to be putting my weight during this movement?

He seemed genuinely pleased with how engaged I was so hopefully I wasn’t too annoying.

During the first two sparring rounds he was my partner. There was one point where he got butterfly hooks on me. That’s where his feet are on the insides of my thighs. It’s a way to control your opponents hips and to limit their mobility.

He ended up rolling onto his back and essentially lifting me off the ground since I had grips on his forearms. I could feel my weight shifting too far forward, giving him an advantage, so I straightened my legs out behind me while I’m balancing on his feet in the air.

It was one of those moments where neither of us thought we would end up in that position, with me in the air like Superman. We both smiled and kind of laughed even as we continued to struggle for a position of advantage.

There was a point early on in our first match where he got my arm and smiled saying, “It’s my arm now.” Later on, I got his arm so I taunted back, “Now it’s my arm” and we both shared a genuine smile as we continued sparring.

Both rounds with my instructor weren’t about winning or losing. It wasn’t about being competitive. It was about comradery and fun and I absolutely loved both rounds even though I was pretty wiped afterward.

For my third round, I was paired with a guy I’ve sparred with before. It was a good match but nothing overly special.

My fourth match, because yes, I did do a fourth one, was against a guy I’ve never seen before. It was brutal. He tapped me out three times in our five-minute round, but I liked that. He helped show me what I’m doing wrong by not letting me get away with stuff.

If I left my guard open he took advantage of the opening. If I overextended my arm, he went for an armbar. It’s not like he was mean or overly aggressive. He was doing what he was trained to do, take down an opponent, and I appreciated that.

I can honestly say it was one of my hardest sparring sessions to date. There was one point where he had me in an armbar and he raised his eyebrows at me because I hadn’t tapped yet. He hadn’t pushed me to that point and I wasn’t going to just give it to him. I shook my head no so he pulled further back and I tapped in a hot second because when it’s a legit armbar the only thing you want is to cry uncle and get out of it.

Just like he wasn’t going to go easy on me, I wasn’t going to tap unless it was a legit tap. No softcore shit here.

Once the timer buzzed he laid back on the ground arms extended, breathing heavy, like it had been a struggle or something. I was trying to remember that breathing was a thing I was supposed to be doing because the only thing on my mind was how I felt like I was dying. Holy fuck was that a hard rough.

Him: You’re strong. That’s good.

I had thought I would stay for a second or even third class, but after my last round, one where I gave all I had, I decided going home was the better option.

I can say I slept amazingly well that night and I think part of it has to do with being so physically exhausted from the dojo.

I woke up at six in the morning since I wanted time before meeting with L for training. I used to meet with her in the afternoon, but we’re switching it to the morning so my day isn’t as broken up.

It worked out extremely well today. I was able to go have breakfast and to type up my last post. I already had my gym bag with me, so once it was closer to go time I packed up and headed to the gym. I got there a bit early so I was able to stretch before my session.

L was very pleased with my “homework”. She liked the conclusions I came to about the terms strong and fit. As she took me through my training we talked about the dojo and how my rounds went.

She explained how she’s going to start incorporating more polymetrics into my workouts, which is where I got the goal for jumping the red box. We both want me to get to that level. Jumps are super fun so it’s only a matter of time.

We did a bunch of burpees in between my sets of weights. It was a much more intense session this time ’round and I thoroughly enjoyed it and made sure to say as much. I was pleased with how well I did during the core section. The “jack-knife” movement she had me to previously didn’t hurt/burn nearly as much. I could have gone a second round I think and been fairly ok.

We set up our appointment for next Tuesday at the same time. We said goodbye to each other, I got my stuff out of the locker room, then went home to begin looking into classes.

I’ve decided the school I originally was looking at isn’t one I want to go it. It’s a for-profit school and the reviews on Google aren’t very flattering. The community college near me doesn’t have what I’m interested in, so that blows.

I looked at UCF just to see what they had since it’s literally on six miles away from me. They offer a minor for fitness training. It seems pretty interesting, but I want to talk to someone about it in person. I called and left a message asking if I could arrange a meeting with someone to discuss the degree further and left it at that.

By that point, I was recovered enough from the gym to be hungry. I showered and went to my sports bar where I actually proofread through my writing and posted to my blog. I also wrote my Musing Moment post. I had my favorite server so I was also able to spend a bit of time chatting with her and getting caught back up since we haven’t seen each other in a while.

I ended up being at my sports bar for almost four hours between all of my writing and researching. My Surface actually died because I didn’t have it plugged into anything and that’s really the only reason I left. Otherwise, I’m sure I would have stayed there longer because I do tend to get caught up in things.

As I was driving home I contemplated the idea of going to the dojo. It was one of my days off. One of the few days I am guaranteed to make it to a class.

I was still pretty sore from my morning session with L, not to mention the no-gi class from the night before. I wasn’t feeling all that social either. I thought about going to Title Club Boxing instead, but that didn’t solve the whole “being sore” thing and most likely needing to do something less intense.

I was mulling it over in my head. Was I being a slacker or should I take the night off and do something like cross stitch?

I decided to check out the gym’s class schedule, just to see if maybe something was being offered that would satisfy my itch to do something else without leaving me dead for work tomorrow.

Wouldn’t you know, there was a yoga class scheduled for 7:30. Since it was only 5 pm I was able to cross stitch a bit before changing back into workout clothes and going to the gym for the second time that day.

The class was fantastic. With each movement I could feel my body relaxing further, releasing more. I’m still not where I was last year, but I could feel a huge difference at the end of the class compared to the beginning. I’m definitely glad I went and it helped confirm my goal of doing at least one yoga class a week.

With how hard I push everywhere else, I need to take at least an hour to relax and stretch.

There was a move during that class that was super cool. We started in down dog before flowing into three-legged dog. From there we bent the knee of our lifted leg and “opened our hips” which means we rotated the lifted leg over our grounded leg. From there we planted our lifted leg back onto the ground so we were in this weird bridge/back bend sort of posture.

It felt soooo amazingly cool. I had no idea I was able to do something like that, but I can. Wooo. One day in the hopefully not so distant future I’ll be able to do Standing Bow Pose, or maybe even King Dancer’s Pose.

Once yoga was done and I was reunited with my phone I saw I had a missed call from my younger brother. We chatted for a bit. It wasn’t anything important, just him bitching about work which I was more than happy to listen to.

From there I came home, ate, drank, and am now done with my writing and ready for bed.

I didn’t find out as much information as I wanted to about the whole school thing, but I wouldn’t be able to start classes until the Spring semester anyway, with March being the deadline for my application. I would like to talk to someone on Friday since that’s my next day off. If not Friday then hopefully next week. I want to get this figured out as soon as possible so I know what I can expect and what I can look forward to.

I might end up taking classes at the community college if they’re able to transfer. I don’t know yet and right now it’s not a major concern.

I’m happy with today. And today is done. So I’m off to sleep so I can wake up and kick ass at work tomorrow.

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