Blah
It's been so long since I wrote anything here that I forgot that I'd already told you that I suspect I am depressed because of the accident. I definitely am, and until all this mess gets straightened out, I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do about it.
I'm sure the fact that there's a little trouble in paradise doesn't help. I'm just about over it. I hate to say that, but I am up against a wall and I don't know what to do. I can't support three people on what I make. Maybe I should be able to, but I have a lot of bills. I could with no problems if I hadn't bought a new car, but I did. And that was probably a good thing, because I drove my old one the other day and it's making some very unattractive noises.
But really, I shouldn't have to support three people. I have two jobs. When I didn't have a job, I looked everyday and worked in places I didn't want to just to make ends meet, which is why I still have two jobs now. Would I like to make enough so that Chris could just stay home and have Shelby all the time? In some ways it'd be nice, but in other ways it would make me resent him. I hate to say that, but somedays it pisses me off that I work two jobs to buy cigarettes that I not only don't smoke, but make me a little sick...
I need to get back to work. God knows I need to keep my job right now. I have something in the hopper, but I don't know how that's going to work out. All I really know is that I am in a funk. I have to meet the trainer today and I don't want to at all. I don't care, and I don't want to spend my money on a trainer anymore. I don't enjoy it anymore. It doesn't matter at the end of the day. Oh well. I just don't have money to piss away anymore, and I'm all about resenting people that make me spend money. I didn't used to be like that, but maybe the recession is finally getting to me.
When life hits...
Lately, I've often said I feel like I have it coming at me from all directions. And really I do.
I got new bosses at both jobs and both have their -- how do I say this politely? -- challenges. I barely get any hours at Toys R Us now, which would be good if I didn't have a car payment that I have to pay every month. Of course, that's my own fault for buying my new car.
So, I have a lot of work challenges lately to say the least. (That is, if you consider sitting at your desk and crying a "challenge.")
But, really, honestly, I think most of my funk is because of this stupid accident. I am finally to the point where I don't have a lot of pain, so that's good. However, my teeth aren't fixed, and my insurance company still wants their money back. The bar owner seems hesitant to give it to them. So, today I e-mailed an attorney. I think it's all ridiculous, but I really have no choice. Much like half the things in my life, I'm up against a wall on this.
Personally, life is still good. Chris still needs to get a job, but he will eventually. I'd like for him to get a really good one, so I wouldn't have to worry so much about the inevitible hammer dropping around here.
I know everything will work out. It always does. I just have to get through the rough patches, and there seem to be an awful lot of them lately.
Coincidence?
I just read an article that the reindeer and caribou populations are plunging. This article, which is at livescience.com, blames global warming and industrial development.
That's interesting, because my Republican friends told me that global warming was something that crazy, old Al Gore made up in his brain when he was inventing the Internets.
So, surely it can't be real, right? And it can't be damaging the habitats of animals living in northern climates.
And, of course, this decline in these woodland creatures could have nothing to do with the fact that Sarah Palin not only has a helicopter, but also promotes killing woodland creatures from helicopters.
I'm not pointing my finger, I'm just saying when we have a VP candidate who thinks it's humane and necessary to hunt wildlife from a helicopter, we're bound to have some unpleasant population issues and a blatant disregard for animal rights.
Of course, with the Republicans, it's often more than just animal's rights we need to worry about.
One more game
I just got this in my e-mail...
A TRUE DETROIT HOCKEY FAN
It's Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final, and a man makes his way to his seat right at center ice. He sits down, noticing that the seat next to him is empty. He leans overand asks his neighbor if someone will be sitting there."No," says the neighbor, "The seat is empty."
"This is incredible", said the man. "Who in their right mind would have a seat like this for the final game of the Stanley Cup Playoffs and not use it?"
The neighbor says,"Well, actually, the seat belongs to me. I was supposed to come with my wife, but she passed away. This is the First Stanley Cup we haven't been together since we got married in 1967."
"Oh . I'm sorry to hear that. That's terrible. But couldn't you find someone else, a friend or a relative, or even a neighbor to take the seat?"
The man shakes his head. "No. They're all at the funeral."
Writer's block
I get e-mails from Writer's Digest magazine because I am trying to become a legitimate writer, slowly but surely. And today I don't feel like a writer, because I have a massive case of writer's block.
They say the best way to get over writer's block is to just start writing. I have a cube-shaped book that Toma gave me called "The Writer's Block." This book is a whole bunch of writing prompts to get you inspired and back to writing.
My Writer's Digest e-mails have writing prompts, too. And since I can't figure out anything to say about the Youth Fellowship Group's visit to one of our nursing homes, I'm going to use the prompt and see what comes from that. Already, I am feeling my creative juices start to flow. I'll be writing about the winner of the nursing home beauty pageant in no time!
Writing prompt: If you could spend your birthday doing anything you wanted, what would it be and why? (Please limit your response to 500 words or fewer.)
I wake up to the sounds of roosters and the vision of the sun rising over Cruz Bay. I’m not sure who made the coffee, but I can smell it. Mmm…Kiss of the Jumbie, my favorite flavor from St. John Spice.
I head into the kitchen and grab a mug left by a tourist from many trips ago. I grab my daily fix of joe and head out to the deck to watch the ships cruise by.
This is my morning ritual on St. John, the closest place to heaven that I have ever been.
As I sit in the Caribbean sun, it is tempting to ponder the answers to all of life’s questions. However, that would be too much work in this lazy island haven. So instead, I decide what beach I will go to and where I will pick up my lunch.
Since it’s my birthday, we will go to Cinnamon Bay, which is my favorite beach on St. John even though I have to schlep all my beach gear through the campground. As for lunch, I make the executive decision that we will pack our lunch in the cooler and then stop for happy hour on our way back to our villa.
Someone will need to go to Baked in the Sun to get my birthday cake. And they’d better hope they ordered chocolate. The mango filling is always tasty. It sounds odd, mango and chocolate, but it’s absolutely delicious. But then again, everything’s delicious with an amazing view.
We journey through town to the beach, and, as always, I have about three heart attacks on North Shore Road as we make our way to Cinnamon. I always think I’ll get used to the driving, but when it’s only one week a year, you always seem to forget what it’s like to go around a blind curve, on a hill, with a water-hauling truck coming at you. At least he remembered to beep his horn this time to warn us.
The beautiful blue waters of Cinnamon Bay are calling as we trudge through the campground toward the beach. The thought briefly enters my mind that it’d be fun to stay here sometime, but then I remember the lovely villa with its infinity-edged pool that’s waiting for me. We take our lawn chairs, beach bags, coolers and pool noodles and set up shop for the day. I pour a glass of some sort of fruity rum concoction, grab my chick-lit novel and turn on my iPod.
Yes, this is as close to heaven as we get on earth.
After a day of floating in the ocean and napping on the beach, we stop by Cruz Bay for happy hour. It’s my The Beach Bar.
It’s amazing how a chocolatey, rummy treat, shared with your dearest friends in paradise, can make you forget you’re another year older.
No, seriously.
So, I wake up in the middle of the night with excruciating eye pain. It was so painful that I willingly put on my eye patch. I wanted to call in at work, but it's pretty lame to call in on the first day back from vacation. So, I kept my eye patch on and headed off to work, where I have sat in the office and went through weeks of newspaper clippings for various things. It doesn't involve looking at the computer, although I seem to be doing better.
I left work to go to the eye doctor, hoping she would give me some eye drops to numb my eye. And besides, I didn't really understand why my allergies would bother just one eye.
Well, they wouldn't. It's not my allergies bothering me; it's some sort of infection. And if it's not improving by Thursday, then I'm going to a specialist.
Of course, if it's not improving by Thursday, the pain could possibly do me in. I'm sure I'll be better once I start my antibiotics. It already feels better, but I have been eating advil like candy and wearing a very sexy eye patch all day.
I think the worst part is that the new contacts I put in on vacation get to be thrown in the trash because they are contaminated. That sucks.
Updates
Let's see...what happened while I was gone?
I turned 33. It wasn't bad, except that the Cheesecake Factory made their slices of cheesecake smaller.
I had a cookout. It rained all day but cleared up in time to grill. Not a lot of people came, but my cake looked like a beach. That was cool.
Chris and I went to Florida to go visit my brother and sister-in-law. That was awesome. I will write more about that later. I have lots to say. Maybe tomorrow because Chris is building a porch and might not get over here tomorrow night. I was hoping we could have movie night, even though we did manage to curl up on the couch and watched "Knocked Up" one night in Florida.
One thing we know for sure: Our next trip to Florida will definitely include Shelby. She waited up for us Friday night when we called her from Atlanta and said we'd be home in a few hours. I'll post a picture of her in her Key West "pirate chick" t-shirt when I get it off my camera.
When I look at my life over the last six months, I am just amazed how much it has changed, how much I have changed. I am so happy with Chris and Shelby. All because someone was cool to me when I wished him a happy birthday in December. So, I decided that it was time to move on.
Of course, this past weekend I was staring my most ginormous crush of all times right in the face, and I made it out alive. I'm happy where I am. Not that he wanted to change that anyhow. He's always known where I was. And no matter what those guys say, there's a certain image in that world, and I don't have that image.
Nope. I'm just a kinda-sorta stepmom with her SUV/truck/station wagon/crossover vehicle with sippy cups, strollers, toys and car seats in the hatch. Last week, I held hands with my boyfriend on the beach and ate romantic dinners at beach-side cafes. I'm pretty damn happy, and I don't even wonder if the grass is greener on the other side.
Yep, love. It's a lot like Miracle Grow.
On Saturday, despite my claim that I was never getting in another car as long as I live, I headed to Louisville with some friends to see the little singing man. (Best to not say his name in case he googles himself again. Lol.) Anyhow, we had fun and it really wasn't a bad time. The show was different this year. Of course, the drive was long, I was tired and after walking miles in South Florida, the last thing I really needed was to stand in one spot trying to keep the crazy asses from stealing our spots near the stage. I finally gave up with about 30 minutes left and got a security guard to get me a chair. I don't need to get a high five or an autograph (although I would like to get something for that charity event next week!) to enjoy a concert. He doesn't know you're there (OK, he knew I was there, but that's a whole other therapy session) and you don't earn any points in heaven just because you're up by the stage. And besides, no one wants to have to help hold up Jennifer Nettles' mosh pit ball.
Of course, now I feel like hell because those crazy, inbred Kentucky mountain folks were smoking in the sandbar. Not just smoking, chain smoking. And nothing floats out of that pit. So, being that I am allergic to smoke, I can barely open my eyes today. I feel absolutely miserable. So much so that when Paul called my broke ass to work at Toy Hell today, I told him I needed to go home and rest. I can't wait to take out my contacts, take a benadryl and go to bed.
I have to go to work tomorrow, and I am dreading it. One of my coworkers felt the urge to tell me someone got the can while I was on vacation. I know I do a great job and have no performance issues, but it always makes me nervous when someone gets the can, especially because the economy is in the toilet and I know the budget at work is already blown for the year. Chris might just be fixing to get a really good job, and he tells me if that happens that I won't have to work anymore. I'm not going to hold my breath, and it's not like I don't want to work anyhow. At least until I have kids.
But, I guess if something does happen to my job I can work on the Great American Novel, because at some point I need to do that. So, I'll be OK, as long as my new car doesn't get repossessed.
I'll do a better job of keeping you posted. I'm not going to post at work, but I'm going to try to get on a few times a week and write for at least just a little bit. It's hard sometimes, but I'm going to try better.
