Today was my 11th annual jaunt to one of the local middle schools to judge [School Name] Project presentations. It's one of my favorite days of the year. All the 8th-graders in town have to do a semester-long project on a topic of their choice that culminates in a written paper AND a presentation in front of community members posing as judges. We rate them 1-to-4 on various things (not just the writing, or the actual speaking, but like 10 different specific things: tone of voice, extra 3D/show-and-tell stuff, ability to recover from errors, etc.) It's extraordinarily rare for me to give anyone a 1 for any part of it. Today was a LOT of 4s. And they were actually a pretty good collection of presentations this year. Some years I feel like I've stepped into Lazy Teenage Hell. Not much of that this time, thank God!

So here's the topics they presented today, with commentary as appropriate:

• Creating video games (a good start; he had some technical difficulties getting started, but he's obviously interested in the subject and juiced about studying for this career, so that always helps a lot)
• Computer programming (another job-related one; not too many people get excited about writing code, but this kid is one of them!)
• History of tractors (yes, really, chosen because he's "been driving tractors since I was, like 7, and my grandpa used to have, like, 48 tractors"--and it was actually fun to listen to him gabbling on about John Deere and Allis-Chalmers, etc.)
• Renewable energy (well done; I wanted to ask her how she feels about the current policies in D.C. but I didn't want to start WWIII in the judges' area....)
• New Orleans (we should all go, and here are some Voodoo chips and Mardi Gras beads--it's ALWAYS good to feed the judges!)
• Childhood in Nazi Germany (this was absolutely fascinating--the kid's babysitter/nanny when he was little was a woman who grew up in Germany during WWII; she was 7 when the war ended; he did an absolutely wonderful job integrating her stories with historical research)
• Jamaica (we should all go to Jamaica, which is a constitutional monarchy without a monarch where their favorite drink is rum; I think this is the first time they were allowed to do vacation destinations as a project, and I got two of them)
• History of [the city in which she lives] (barely phoned it in, and ended with "it was hard to find information because it's not a very big town"--my first question was "Did you GO to the public library?" Kid: "Oh yeah, I got a book there." Me: "I work there. We have file cabinets FULL of stuff about the city's history." I was pissed. Don't expect me to believe you started this project prior to May 10, dude!)
• Schizophrenia (nicely done, though she talked so fast I'm not entirely sure what she said--but she had a LOT to say!)
• Hockey history (first 6 professional teams; surprisingly interesting, despite my overall lack of interest in ice hockey)
• [state north of us] university sports (fun, and interesting reasons for doing this topic--neither parent went to college at this school--and he's stoked about getting an athletic scholarship there in a few years)
• How did WW2 start/end (ah the obligatory WW2 talk...yawn--seriously, kids, it's interesting but find a different angle--see above re growing up in Nazi Germany)
• Large animal veterinarian (another one that gets done often, though usually not specifically large animals--however, she raises pigs and her sister has horses, so she's motivated, and interesting)
• North Korean human rights (this was a split-personality presentation: the kid had a speech impediment and maybe some other, cognitive, issues, and he pretty much just read his slideshow to us; BUT he knew his stuff, he did research (he's not Korean), and it was topical and I learned a BUNCH of stuff from him. BRAVO!!)

LUNCH (I brought a cheese sandwich and walnuts and almonds and begged a bottle of pop from the teacher's lounge--and I read about books while I ate)

• History of basketball (another topic about which I have zero interest, but the kid made it fun to listen to)
• Animal shelters (yet another perennial--she didn't kill herself with research, but it was clearly presented and heartfelt. And there were no pictures of puppy mills, which was a blessing; there are usually horrible photos that go with this subject)
• Pediatrician (possibly the most professionally-done speech of the day. She kicked ass in terms of speaking and researching, citing sources in the speech itself, and just generally Doing It Right)
• Volkswagens (who knew there were VW hobbyists? And this kid is specifically into VW buses! He had me hooked--and then he started explaining all the engine specs...yawn...but his enthusiasm was palpable)
• Airplane piloting (this was one of those kids with the "modern" hairstyle that mimics the kids -I- went to middle school with 40 years ago; he wasn't all that into the whole academic thing, but he wants to be a pilot and has actually co-piloted a plane, so that was cool)
• Law enforcement (unfortunate: very quiet, pretty much never looked up from reading his notecards, obviously scared out of his mind; and he wants to be a cop)
• Cosmetology (she wants to do makeup when she grows up, or model; I know what you're picturing, and she's not any of those things, but she definitely has presence and poise)
• The Holocaust (what a way to end the day: a dispiriting and dispirited talk on genocide; I'll eat my hat if she did more research than opening her history textbook; too bad, really--she has a wonderful speaking voice)

And then we ran for the parking lot to beat the lines of parental cars. On the way home I stopped at Aldi's--where I had to be physically SHOWN where the refried beans are, since I still can't find them on my own because I'm apparently BLIND--and Walgreen's--5 Rxes for Beast.

Oh yeah, because I'd set this day up in March, and last week Beast scheduled his cortisone injection into his lower back for this morning. So I took him over to the office for that, and he'd set up a ride to come home. I'm a horrible wife. But really: he's had something like 10 of these things now, and it's pretty much all show for the insurance company. Maybe it'll help with some of the pain, but it hasn't been much of a winning option yet (since 2011, mind you), so we all know the doctor will see him, post-cortisone, next week and (hopefully) schedule surgery for "soon" which realistically means June sometime. For those keeping score at home, this will be #2 on the lumbar region. The first time was in 2012 where he had a laminectomy, ablation, and other fancy words (the doctor told me immediately post-op that there was "scraping" of the nerve off the vertebrae--hurrah for technical jargon). Then he had similar stuff done inside his neck in December 2015, after the debacle of our vacation in October when he ended up in the ER waiting room for 9 hours in St. Louis.

He's in bed asleep, which isn't shocking at all. He warned me it was likely he would be. I have no idea if I'm supposed to wake him, so I probably will just let him sleep. Maybe the pain level will be such that he can actually rest for a change.

So, yeah. Just another day in the life of.

Updates

I feel like this has become my Vent Blog.

So, last Monday I took Beast to a treatment facility about 45 minutes from here--we are fortunate that we have several options from which to choose within an hour or so--and left him there for the foreseeable future for rehab. He got blitzed about 3 weeks ago. He can barely walk and can't drive, but somehow he managed the 1/4-1/2-mile walk to the nearest mini-mart and bought himself a bottle of vodka. I worked till 9 that night, so came home to find him "asleep" in the chair with half a bottle left. He finished most of that before going up to bed. And STUPID ensued.

Next morning I told him to pick an option: he moves out, I move out, or he goes to rehab till it sticks.

He made all the calls and did most of the legwork on scheduling and organizing. Because we have private insurance, there was a bed available right away. They took him back to do the intake interview, finished that up, came back out with the meds he's NOT allowed on site (they're opiate painkillers, so pretty unsafe to have around, so we get it completely), and that was it. No interview for me, just "say goodbye" so we did. Weird. He has called a couple of times, and I took one of his AA sponsors over Sunday with me for Family Education and Visiting Hours. I told someone the place is like a combination of tiny college campus + prison: lovely setting, nice housing, and extremely scheduled time. And no money. Bartering is done with hard candy and food in the cafeteria: my breakfast eggs for your toast, my tuna sandwich for a haircut.

He's been fighting for a week to get his back pain addressed. Because he was taking opioids, they wanted him drug-free to assess whether it was an addiction to painkillers. [It's not.] In the meantime, he was getting OTC Tylenol by the handful. Not good. I think, as of Friday, they've finally figured out that the pain, she is real, and are giving him something else that's at least less-addictive (or non-addictive). He was pretty dire Sunday still. Lousy sleep, bad pain, lots of bounce-back from changing meds, and just crabby about everything.

Saturday was my birthday. He tried to make me a present the day before he left. It's a total failure. He didn't get a card, can't buy or mail anything from the facility, and so the day passed completely without fanfare. Sparky IM'd me to "sing," as did Jen, and I got a card from my sister, though I didn't pick that up till yesterday because it went to the P.O. box. Oh, and Beast called and wished me happy birthday in a 2 minute and 27 second call. I helped with Operation Christmas Child packing during the day as I do around this time every year, so that was a good-enough birthday present to myself.

My other me-gift was a note to everyone in both immediate families detailing what's been going on. A couple people knew some of it, but others had no idea. I'm done hiding out in my family. Just so very done. I heard from several people, all messages of support and even a couple of phone calls. I've missed being able to talk straight with everyone.

I'm debating whether I want to send Beast a card--his birthday is Friday--and I'm thinking not. Not out of retaliation exactly, but he bailed on Valentine's Day, anniversary AND birthday this year because he's so wrapped up in his own drama. I'll see him on Sunday. Or Monday. But I'm really tired of the universe spinning around him. For our counseling visit on Sunday, "we" talked about his pain relief issues and frustrations. The counselor asked me to start if I had any questions or concerns, and I mentioned the pain thing and he took the ball and ran with it for the rest of our allotted time. He's such a middle-aged-white-guy. Welcome to how the rest of the world has to interact with bureaucracy EVERY DAY!

Part of that last bit can be attributed to the horrific election results and all the White Boys on both sides of the political divide moaning and whining about how upsetting something is to them. SHUT THE FUCK UP, men! Really. You've had your centuries to talk and run things, but you have managed to do nothing but fuck things up. Let some women and minorities in the door, sit down and LISTEN.

OK. So last week sucked. It's pretty strange that with all my crying skills, I really have yet to shed many tears over anything this month. Once it all actually hits, in my usual delayed reaction awareness, it's going to SUUUUUCK!!

This weekend, I over-indulged in junk food and for the first time in my life actually made myself sick. I had to leave work early yesterday with a gurgly stomach, and--work being as it has been for awhile now--I'm not sure I'm up to ever going back. I suppose I have to, since I'm the sole breadwinner now. I stayed home today in any case. There are sheets in the dryer, I've looked at the bank statements to be sure I don't have any late bills, and I've caught up on Facebook. I'm going to finish this up and read some Beowulf. Clean out the fridge. Look for my P.E.O. pin. Figure out Thanksgiving planning. Vacuum the basement--which Beast was going to do before he left but ended up spending hours on this stupid project for my birthday. Put shit way. Figure out how to manage 2 toddlers in this not-child-proofed house. Take a nap. I'm supposed to be taking care of myself, right? So that's my nod to those directions that everyone has given me!

The Saga Continues....

No, not that one.

This is the one about Beast's shoulder/back/pain.

Shortest possible version: we saw the surgeon who did his lower back surgery a few years ago on Monday morning at 8 a.m. Due to holidays etc. the doctor warned us that the earliest possible date for surgery would be the second week of January but his scheduler will call and get it set up. It's Thursday late morning and Beast has called 3 times and left messages and we still haven't heard from this fantasy creature. Today he stopped on the way home from another errand for a refill on his pain Rx (prescribed by this doctor). Walgreen's wouldn't refill it because he was too early: he's been taking 4/day for two months, but for reasons unknown to us at this point, the last script was written for 2/day. Without letting us know. Clearly an error. But as it's a controlled substance, we have to dance around the office staff to get it sorted out. As I was typing that, Beast called the office and they didn't pick up. Apparently, they're at lunch, at 11:30.

Mind you, the slightly longer version is that we've had to drive an hour (one-way) TWICE in the past month to get this prescription refilled because ... Controlled Substance, new script from doctor needed for every re-up (i.e., no refills), whatever whatever, and he wasn't at his nearer-to-us-office for 4 days either time. Obviously, the last time they fucked up the dosage and neither of us thought to check, and Walgreen's didn't catch/mention it. Neither did the doctor on Monday when we were there.

So frustrated. So very very tired. And the pain that Beast was in on October 13 when we went to the ER has not abated, in fact has become worse over the intervening 2 months. He's lost the feeling in over half his dominant hand and forearm so he can't write, he's got no stamina or strength (compared to the norm), and he's lost nearly 20 lbs. because of the medicine eating his stomach. He's hanging by a thin thread, and I'm not feeling overly secure either. Not feeling very Christmas-y at all.

Can only get better

(she says, knocking wood)

Tonight has sucked. At least primarily. Sparky's home for the holiday, so that's excellent. And my reservoir of "Don't Give a Flying Peanut" is full to overflowing, which might be good for tomorrow.

But one of our sweet guinea piggies died tonight, after a few days of being sluggish and just weird. And that precipitated a fight with Beast who felt it was up to him to hold Ruka till he passed, even though he (Beast) was cratered on painkillers and nerve-blocks. And because he was cratered, he wasn't capable of being lucid or seeing reason about going to bed rather than sitting and dozing hunched over a dying guinea pig. So then he wanted to argue, which is a losing proposition for everyone when he's in this situation; I know this because this situation happens easily once a week. That's an improvement on when he was drinking a fifth of vodka--or more--every night, but dealing with it is exactly the same: he's mean, nasty, incoherent, argumentative and just generally a big asshat.

So Sparky comes home, and once again gets to watch his parents fight. We can go weeks when he's gone without even raising our voices, but it seems like when he's here, Beast needs to prove he's The Man and...yeah.

It's officially 6 weeks now that he's been in pain nonstop. We've gone several rounds with multiple doctors, had 2.5 MRIs, taken 4 or 5 different meds...and still we are just now (yesterday) reaching the action stage. He goes in next week for a cortisone shot directly into his neck near where he has a herniated disk, and then since we're pretty sure it won't fix anything, he'll schedule an appointment to talk about surgery with the same guy who did his lumbar surgery about 4 years ago.

I'm at wits' end. He's a lunatic, emotionally/physically/psychically all over the map in any given moment. He goes from fully adult to age 4 in 20 minutes and I don't always know which person I'm dealing with at any given moment, though I'm remarkably good at judging his mood. By and large, we've been ok, but tonight--and to a lesser degree last Sunday night--just about did me in. He's pissed that I made him go to bed to be rested up for company all day tomorrow. So he went to bed...but when I went up to wake him for his last pill of the night he was still awake. Still steaming. No intention of going to sleep. Because that will show me who's in charge here. And tomorrow he'll be miserable and crabby to the 11 people coming for Thanksgiving. Perfect. Because I wouldn't let him stay up till all hours holding a dying guinea pig and ruining his sleep and his body.

I am, indeed, the Evil Queen.

R.I.P. Ruka.

Ruka (rt.) in happier days

Well, we're home.

I drove the RV back to the house day before yesterday. We unloaded after we arrived, in the dark, and I did a quick wipedown of everything. Then yesterday morning we took the RV to the car wash and then back to its home. So, we are done with our trip, officially, now.

Beast's shoulder is still really sore. The oxycodone and fentanyl is keeping him functional (and sleepy). He will see his regular doctor on Monday first thing. I'm trying to figure out if I'm going back to work early or not. I'd prefer 'not' but we'll see.

This might rank up there as one of the weirder weeks of my life. I'm glad Beast is ok, I'm glad we're home safe and sound, and I'm glad nothing was worse than it was. But it was pretty bad--though I keep sugar-coating it for public consumption.

Sparky was able to come visit today after meeting some friends for lunch not to far from here. He is doing well, I think. He's excited about a date he has set up on Monday, someone he's had his eye on for awhile, I guess.

Laundry from the trip is done. Most of the stuff from the trip is out of boxes and bags and replaced where it belongs. The shot glasses I thought I bought at the antique shop apparently didn't get included, which is irritating as they were gifts. We are blessed with wonderful friends who brought us homemade Indian curry for dinner. It was delicious, and there's enough left for lunch for me tomorrow. I sound the first of Sparky's used and no-longer-needed/wanted books on Amazon today. We're watching OSU and Penn State...until Beast falls asleep anyway. The "s" key on my laptop is flaking out, so typing is annoying.

Vacation at the ER

Whee. Beast is having terrible pain in his left shoulder. It was bad enough that for a few minutes he though it might be a heart attack, which meant a fairly quick response from the EMTs who transported him to SLU Med Ctr. Where we sit.

They've established it's probably NOT a heart attack but the pain is bad. Very bad. Honestly, though, he seems a little better in the last few minutes. It might be that he's just getting used to it.

The waiting room is emptying out a little now, at least.

And we wait.  Whee.

I did manage to drive through downtown St. Louis in the RV without incident. And managed to find a spot to park eventually too!

Whingey whinge McWhingester

I haven't been feeling great. Free-floating nausea since Monday, and I finally gave in and accepted that the stuffy nose all weekend is actually NOT allergies but a low-level summer cold. I left work early Monday over Miss W's objections to having "no one" to cover the hour I had left in the children's room; there were four people off-desk that hour, so WTAF, woman?

I worked all day yesterday, feeling cruddy and spastic from the meds I was taking to feel less cruddy. I had to leave at 4 to rehearse the initiation ceremony for P.E.O. and then went back to work. Since I was supposed to be on-desk for just that hour, Miss W. put me on the schedule for the next two hours after I got back. So, I traded one hour for two because....she's vindictive.

So today at 3:30 when I realized that I wasn't going to make it for 8 hours, I bypassed her and went right to the boss to say I was going home. It left us with a very light staff for the evening, but seriously I feel like hell. And I'm pretty sure I picked this up from Sparky last week, so I know it's contagious. Beast is at a workshop this week, and he was up all night last night throwing up. Fun times.

After getting upset yesterday about the scheduling thing yesterday, the last thing I wanted to do was go to my meeting, but I swung through McDonald's for a cheeseburger and forced myself to go. Thank God. Last night's topic was "Jealousy" so I didn't think I'd have a lot to contribute, but I'm glad I went. However, upon returning home, it became quickly apparent that getting up for 6:30 Bible Study was probably not a great idea. I was awake for a couple of hours in the early morning hours (3-5) as has become regular, especially this week. I finally dropped back off at 5:15 and woke up again at 8, got up, showered, had breakfast and headed off to see Dr. Patel to see about scheduling a sleep study. Beast informed me a couple of weeks ago that I'm snoring louder and louder and stopping breathing often. I did wake myself up last week sometime with a loud snort, so....yeah. CPAP here I come, yay, not.

From the doc, I stopped at Walgreen's for an Rx and cold medicine and then hit McDonald's, again, for lunch (a salad) which I ate in the break room at work. And then felt like death the rest of the afternoon...and still now. I don't think I'm going to work tomorrow, not unless I feel a helluva lot better.

I'm fed up, beyond that really, with work. Home is better; Beast seems to be working the program for the last few weeks. I'm trying to keep the focus on me. Sparky's got about 6 job offers, all non-chemistry things, but I think he's going to be ok. He's been a real help the last month around the house, and pleasant on top of the helpfulness.

Right. I've blogged. I've whined. Life isn't as bad as it feels right now....it could always be worse. But I'm simply not motivated to knock myself out about putting my hours in at work. That's another post. Maybe. Also whiney. So, enough. Time for some sort of stomach-calming food, and then bed.

Home repair

Today's been a weird day. It doesn't feel like Sunday--I worked yesterday, and I have tomorrow off. I went to church, but even that was weird as our pastor is on sabbatical for the summer so we are having guests and backups while he's gone. Like the Supremes but no Diana. Anyway...it was a good sermon.

Then I came home and we started moving the smaller things out of the living room and dining room in preparation for the guys' arrival on Tuesday to repair the damage from Beast's last escapade. Tomorrow Katherine and Alan and baby E are coming over for a few hours of family time, and after they're gone we'll move out the big furniture: couch, dining room table, etc.

Sparky graduated two weeks ago today, so he's been home since then trying to get his "adult life" started. Going through all the crap in his bedroom, sorting and tossing out stuff, and on the phone endlessly about jobs, apartments and friend drama. There's a girl...young woman. He has been a trouper, but he so very desperately wants to be O.U.T. and on his own. Not enough to be going door-to-door looking for jobs, though; that's notable. And he still has to finish one class this fall, so he can't get a full-time 'normal' job unless they're ok with him bailing for a few hours a week for 16 weeks.

This week, Beast is back on the road. He'll be in Michigan all week visiting the Mother Ship (his term for this site). The following week he's doing a swing through L.A. and surrounding areas. I'm honestly kind of glad to see him go. Life is much less stressful and worrisome when he's not around.

Meanwhile, this coming Friday, my brother Del is coming to visit because he's got business visits to make in our area. So he'll be using us as Home Base for those for ....some period of time. The day after we found out about this, my nephew James called after 7 months of silence. I wasn't able to pick up the phone, so he texted: "call me omg" which could mean anything from "I'm engaged!" to "Dad died!" to "I just crushed my hand between a forklift and a wall and I'm calling from the ER!" None of the above as it turned out; he is closing on a house, moving in this coming week, and has invited us up to 'inspect' (a.k.a. ooh and ahh over) it next Sunday. Del wanted to see him and Don while he was in the area anyway, so we'll just make it a family thing.

(It just occurred to me that I'm probably supposed to let Katherine et al. know, which is tricky since Del surely wants nothing to do with seeing her, so I wasn't going to tell her that he was here, but now that James has this house thing, I have to tell her that...holy shit, I'm still in high school! This is why [my?] family is so fucking annoying. Guess I'll just lay it all out tomorrow and let the chips fall, etc.]

Work is...work. Frustrating. Explosively irritating. I'm doing better at Keeping My Mouth Shut and Being Nice to Coworkers (smh) and I got a decent annual performance review last month at the end of our fiscal year. Aside from the BS that I have to be nicey-nicey while other people can bark and snap, it's actually going pretty well. So behind in cataloging it's no longer an issue to anyone but me, I guess, but I think that's just life. We're under a city-wide hiring freeze due to our new governor's political maneuvering, and we're short about 1 FTE person which means we're all pitching in more than usual. Life goes on. And on

Beast informed me late last week that he's pretty sure that I've developed apnea. He says that since my surgery in early February, I've gotten substantially more snore-y and stop breathing briefly at night only to start back up with a snort. So I've called my doctor to schedule a sleep study. I think the doc is also going to make me start taking insulin or at least start monitoring my glucose level very closely. It would be useful if I would stop eating so much crap. Maybe I'll take him up on signing up with the medical practice's diet-and-nutrition program.

Two of my nieces--Katherine and Marguerite--are pregnant again. M is due in the next 3 weeks and K is 'officially' due in October, but she will probably go in early and be induced because of this.

So that's the update.

New baby in the family

Welcome, Elias, to our family!! Weighing in at 5 pounds, 11 ounces and 19 inches long (and slightly over two weeks early on purpose), he is totally gorgeous. Mom is fine, baby is fine, there was very little drama at all, and that's a very good thing after last time.

Then I came home (arriving about 6:30) and got to be the heavy, making Beast stop working in the yard--he could barely stand on both feet without weaving in place--and then making him a sandwich that he fell asleep while eating. After waking him up, for ten minutes, he got crabby ... but also went upstairs, fell into bed, and had a muscle spasm in his left leg for 20 minutes. Once it settled, we got his CPAP on and going and he's sacked out for the night.

Whee.

Still and all.

New baby. 

W00t!

Strange day, strange week

It occurred to me yesterday that the past two weeks are the first two Mondays I've worked at 9 a.m. in almost 20 years. When I was working part-time at my current place of work, I never worked Mondays. When I went full-time a couple of years ago, I was scheduled to work 11-7. That was the pits. So, now I'm (finally) working normal hours.* And it feels weird.

I got up this morning at 7 so I could go do my volunteering at my son's (former) high school. At 7:45, they called to say, "Don't come!" because they're setting up for foreign language AP testing in the library there today, so shelving is not really possible. So, ok, I'm up early for no reason in a really busy week. Which means I'm blogging, so there's that.

Beast is headed to load up Sparky's dorm this afternoon. It's going to be strange having the boy back, but he's only home for about 3 weeks before summer classes start. Probably not long enough to get to 100% annoyance. ;-)

Tonight I'm being inducted (?) into a sorority. Yes, as a matter of fact, I am eating crow as part of that process, and I'm also a late bloomer. Kinda fun, kinda flaky, kinda silly. But long-term: good.

I've been to the doctor twice in the past couple of weeks. Nothing to worry about: just a physical, parts 1 and 2. I got orders to lose weight, and get a mammogram and a bone density scan (both prophylactic). Meh. Hello, Weight Watchers, my old frenemy.

Friday, my day off this week, I will be spending the day at one of the middle schools judging 8th grade projects. I have done this now for 6 or 7 years and it's one of my favorite days of the year. However, I don't usually do the whole day, so this will be a marathon. Unfortunately, it also means that I have to reschedule the hair and massage appointments that I made before I realized I'd be tied up all day.

And I NEED that massage: my right shoulder/neck/collarbone/skull have been one giant knot since  Sunday. Maybe Saturday. I had a headache the past two days. I'm hoping some of the stretches I did last night will ameliorate the headache today at least.

And then there's work, which hasn't been bad, just busy. And the usual regular weekly commitments. Beast is hitting the road again tomorrow. The weather has been amazingly beautiful. Life could be worse. Life is worse for a lot of people. I have no complaints, not really.

__________
*My previous schedule, as worked out with the previous director, should give you some insight into her psyche:

Mondays 11-7 (no lunch break, my choice)
Tuesdays 12-9
Wednesdays 8-4 (no lunch break, again, my choice)
Thursdays 9-6
Fridays OR Saturdays, alternating 8-5

And occasional Sundays 1-4. Every . Single . Day . Was . Different. So confusing.

What a week...

Talk about an emotional rollercoaster...

Christmas was awesome; completely boring with lotsa good swag for all.

Work this week was about as close to vacation as work could be. It's gonna be hard getting back into this whole "having a boss" thing in two weeks, but Techie Librarian is looking like she's ready to be OVAH-WITH this interim director gig.

Thursday morning I found a post from one of my college profs about one of his colleagues (another prof in the same department) who has been a joy to get to know outside of prof-hood, and who has been battling cancer for several years. It sounds pretty bad--the war is nearly over.

Thursday night sucked for other nonbloggable reasons.

Yesterday, the check from the sale of FIL's out-of-state condo arrived.

My eyes have gotten quite bad this week, especially in the shifting from one distance to another. As in...it doesn't happen.

Beast has been very occupied this week with getting the house wired to legally and safely be able to plug in the generator to power the house if/when we lose electricity the next time. He's done a lot of research to make sure he knows what he's doing, purchased several new parts, watch a gazillion videos, showed Sparky (irony much?) some basic and not-so-basic wiring tips, and hasn't electrocuted himself. Plus, he installed an automatic battery-powered light next to the fuse box that will come on when the power goes out.

Yesterday I had a headache all day. Took aspirin at about 10:30, Tylenol at 1, and Advil at 3, and then worked a manic-busy 2-hour shift at Reference. Two other reference staff had already left sick, and the only other one there was trying to wind things up to go on vacation, so I really couldn't leave. The headache was one of those perfect storm headaches: tension, sinus, and eye-strain all at once.

Went and picked out new eyeglass frames for the Rx I got last month. It's a new procedure since last time I bought glasses (new insurance), so it took awhile longer. But people were super-nice at the new place, which is off-set by the fact that I probably won't get the glasses for about 10 days. Back up the truck: I'll be chugging down the painkillers this week.

We got the @*%^ing paperwork for the last step in settling FIL's estate from BIL today. After three weeks of him being a Class-A dick about it.

Tonight I got a text from a former youth group member asking if I was busy tonight. Well, it turned out she wasn't able to leave the house, but she texted me the "gist" of things. Her mom and step-dad are ultra-conservative, which makes me rather insane since they are blessed with some pretty awesome kids. R is simply one of the most conscientious young people I know, and has been since I met her at age 15 when she started coming to youth group. The "gist" of today's problem: she came out to her mom & step-dad on Wednesday. They are not handling this in a very enlightened way at all. She didn't go into details, but I can imagine that their response would be the most rancid "Christian" spewage. She spent Wednesday night at someone else's house--a friend, I can guess who, but she didn't say. Friend, in the case, meaning friend, period.

So let's see: this week, medical issues, the vague threat of electrocution, general family strain (holiday edition), work weirdness, good fun, lots of sleep, and someone asking for support.

Basically, life is full of good and bad. I'm sadder than sad about Dr. H. and R.'s parents. I'm grateful she has taken that step and that she trusts me (and Beast). I'm getting more and more concerned about my eyesight, but hoping the new glasses sort that out. I'm looking forward to the new year with some good positive feelings about work, household, and financial stuff. And the guinea pigs always make me giggle, even when I'm shouting at them to stop squeaking already, I just gave them food for cryin' in the rain!

Oh, and I have another great-nephew, as of December 5:

And on that happy note, I will close.

Time passages

• Yesterday was Homecoming at Beast's & my (and Sparky's) college. Sparky was sick, but the weather was gorgeous.
• Our team lost. Booo...
• Thirty years ago this fall I was more homesick than ever before (or since) and also exhilarated by college life.
• It was fun to go back, weird to sit in a dorm and listen to boys/men shout swear words in the halls (not to mention the 100 dB rap music), and good to see the campus looking great.
• The campus library hasn't changed except for some of the books moving around. And there are more computers, of course.
• We had to come home last night because I work today. And teach Sunday School, too.
• Some of the people I work with SUCK BALLS!
• Most of the people I work with are simply awesome, even inspirational.
• The Head of HR for the City--and thus us--informed us that we full-timers should all be working 45+ hour weeks until a new director and children's librarian are hired. Excuse the FUCK outta me but, with one exception (see above) we already DO work over our hours on a regular basis, beeyotch.
• Last week is over. Thank God.
• I'm afraid to get a flu shot because so many people around me have been sick in the past week; what if the shot along with their germs makes me sick!? 
• Pinto, the youngest guinea pig, tried to commit seppuku Friday when I cleaned their cage: he leapt out of my arms onto the top of the cage and nearly fell off the back. Maybe we shoulda named him Spaz....
• I met someone for the first time last Sunday who was sure I worked in the same community as him (he's a firefighter several towns to our east). Nope. Really. NOPE!
• Beast and I got to new cell phones on Monday. They are officially smarter than us. lol
• I'm glad the professional refs are back. A week too late for the Packers, but...oh well, right?
• Having badgered Beast into making a doctor's appointment to get his cough and his "numbers" checked out, I think I need to get in to see MY doctor as well about some weird new not-so-fun things my body is doing.
• Time to get going: Sunday School, breakfast with Beast, work (post-upgrade, I hope everything works!), then home for the Packer game (and pizza?)

Post-surgery

All is well. Beast survived and in fact as soon as he woke up the leg pain and some of the numbness had disappeared. Like magic. Seriously.

He came home about 24 hours from the scheduled start of his surgery on Monday. The only remaining pain is from the incision. His stamina is still in the dumper, but that'll improve over time.

And Sparky is home. W00t w00t!

So that's the latest. I'm so freakin' annoyed about stuff at work that I don't want to go to even be there tomorrow. Or, frankly, ever.

Saturday

I got a stellar massage this morning, after over two months since my last one.

Then I came home and picked up Beast before we headed to Sparky's college to bring home a load of his stuff. including the (way-too-freakin-big) TV and his bike. What I hadn't thought about until we started loading the car is ... uhm ... who's getting this shit outta the car at home?!

Yeah, I'm a stellar planner.

I called our neighbor when we got home, but they're at a soccer thing till...sometime. They'll stop by when they're headed home and it will take less than 3 minutes for J and me to get the TV and one giant (heavy) box out onto the floor in the garage.

Meanwhile, we watched the Derby. Now we're watching what happened with NASCAR while the horses ran. Holy cats: major wreck into a wall, so trying not the check the site to see what happened with everyone.

And the drama continued today at work, apparently. No one had called the boss about Crazy Cat Woman's medical update, so by 2 when Techie Librarian realized that and made the call, she got lambasted. No good deed goes unpunished.

My eyes are goofed up again, both itchy and sore as well as not seeing properly. Beast's back seems better than yesterday (not saying much there). I'm so tired. Tomorrow is laundry and general cleaning once we get home from church. At least I don't have to face work on Monday....

Erk

Aside from poetry, I haven't been around much. There are several reasons, but the Big Two are Work and Beast's (lack of) Health. I'm slowly getting my head around working 40 hours a week and being a Responsible Adult, but next week is going to be pretty horrible: I'm involved in putting a coworker on official probation, and I'm fairly certain she won't be able to maintain the baseline work changes required. There will be angst, and not just from her. Another coworker essentially has begged me to do whatever I can to keep the other woman from losing her job. Well, that's just fine but she has to carry her part of the load. And she's not. Hasn't, really, ever. Sigh.

Beast's back has been fubar since last August when he was hospitalized, and I have quite literally lost count of how many times we've been to the ER since then. The ambulance has picked him up three (four??) times in the last two months or so. Long story short, he is scheduled for a laminectomy on Monday. Tomorrow is pre-op testing day for him (I work), Saturday we drive up for load #1 from Sparky's dorm room, Sunday is...Sunday (i.e. busy in the morning, not-so in the afternoon). This is slightly faster than we had expected, but OMG-Thank-God for that!

The difficulty is that I need to go pick up Sparky and the rest of his stuff from school at some point--Wednesday or Thursday--and bring him home for the summer. And work. And bring Beast home from the hospital. And...yeah, see? Life, she is destroying next week completely. I really do hope this surgery goes smoothly for Beast, resolves the majority of the pain issues, and that Sparky can find a summer job.

Don't know why...

...but I feel a blog post inside of me, one that doesn't involve memes or poetry for a change.

Having said that, all immediately comes to mind to write is, "Why does my left hand hurt?" My thumb hurts to move--from the center of my palm down into my wrist--so something I did yesterday was wrong, but I can't think of any actions that were particularly unusual. I will say that last Wednesday at bell choir rehearsal, that same wrist locked up in the middle of a song and I had to drop the bell and crack my wrist. Which hurt quite a bit.

I think I'm falling apart. Between this and my now-constant right shoulder pain, I believe I'm getting an inkling of how Beast's back felt before all hell broke loose inside it this year.

In spite of the aches and pains, I'm going in to shelve books today at the high school. I do love this little bit of volunteering. Being around the kids, talking to teachers, seeing what books are used...I just enjoy the whole thing.

Then, it's off to work. Where I will spend the day trying not to kill anyone or say anything that can't be unsaid. Right before leaving last night, I worked through a plan to get a better handle on our collection size; we have been going along for years (decades, really) judging our collection size by the statistics we keep on additions and withdrawals. Last summer, on a lark, I did a quick list of how many records we actually have in the database. I wasn't particularly shocked to find out that the numbers are substantially off.  The challenge has been trying to figure out how to drill down past the total collection size and recalculate the individual sections. And I didn't really want to do this in the middle of a fiscal year, which runs May-April (don't ask me--I have no idea). Guess what I'll be doing next Monday, Tuesday and perhaps Wednesday?? It's going to be rather nightmarish, but once it's over, I'll feel a whole lot better about reporting our numbers to the Board(s) and the state.

I've come to understand that projects like that are little games I play to keep my mind off the Big Picture stuff -- dealing with the dysfunction of the boss and staff, for instance.

At home, there are a million things I'm avoiding as well. I guess I need to make a decision about whether I'm going to my 30th high school reunion this summer. I need to call about scheduling a thorough spring house-cleaning. And we need to figure out what's going on in terms of yard-work this summer. And meal-planning, which has dropped so far off the radar that we are reduced to eating cheese sandwiches for dinner many nights.

All of which is depressing. I'm going to get my socks and shoes on, go fluff my hair, and head to school.  Where I don't really have to think about anything because I'm not responsible for anything but locating the places on the shelves where the books belong. Yay.

Steps to the Second Floor

There are 16 steps leading upstairs from front hall to bedrooms.

How long does it take to go up (or down) 16 steps? Ten seconds? Fifteen? It certainly takes me less than half a minute to get from the couch to my bedroom most of the time.

I took Beast to the spine surgeon's office today. He saw the surgeon about two weeks ago, and after the doc had time to look over Beast's records, he wanted him to have one more cortisone injection in his spine with his needle-guy. So, that was this morning. This doctor didn't give Beast any general anesthetic (unlike every other one he's ever had), so he was fully awake and had only (very) local anesthetic. When they came to the waiting room to get me, he'd only been back there for ten minutes, at most. He was in absolutely the most pain I've seen him in for the past week or more, because there's so much inflammation and the addition of a syringe or so of liquid in a space where it had nowhere to be. But we got home ok, and I headed off to work.

When I got home at about 6:30, I started collecting the household garbage before I realized that Beast needed to get upstairs to bed NOW.

"NOW" means that at 7:45, I was finally dragging the garbage can and recycling bins to the end of the driveway.

• Ten minutes, and a Percocet, to get out of the recliner.
• Five minutes to cross the living room, front hall and reach the bottom of the stairs.
• Approximately 25 minutes later, Beast was sprawled on the floor at the top of the steps.
• About twenty minutes after that, he had made it to bed and was sitting on the edge of it emptying his pants pockets.
• And ten minutes after that, I told him I was going to go do the garbage and I'd bring his cell phone and some water upstairs.

When I came back in, he had dropped off to sleep.

I let him rest for about half an hour and then went back up to make sure he got his CPAP going.

I've been home two and a half hours and it feels like either 30 minutes or all day.

It's too early to go to bed

I woke up this morning at 9:15, so it's far too early for me to hit the sheets. However, the rest of the humans are already in bed, and even the guinea pigs are eerily quiet. I'm a little bored. A little antsy. And little...piqued.

My mouth hurts. I wasn't able to get hold of the dentist today, even to leave a message, because their phone tripped right over into that fast busy signal that indicates problems on the line.

I can feel several things hanging off my shoulder to be worried about soon: new insurance in 6 days, new prescriptions need to written and sent for mail-order delivery, new schedule at work, family arriving this weekend. And there are the more immediate worries that I'm adamantly trying not to dwell on because they are more serious than any of the above, with no real good solutions. I'm in a quandary about some stuff and don't like any of the outcomes I see. The fact that I can't control any of it, not really, is making me cranky, bitter, sad, and defeated. And it's all just in time for the onset of the worst part of the year in terms of SAD. This must be the part of middle age that just sucks: the reality that the easiest years of life are over and everything to come is complicated and potentially difficult, with traps and mires everywhere both visible and sneaky. I don't like it.

This week is going to be a little bumpy at work as well. There are quite a few people on vacation, so I'll be pulling more public hours. The boss is probably back in more regularly after several weeks off on vacation and then ill, so she'll need hand-holding as she gets up to speed. My desk is a mess--I haven't properly cleared it off and cleaned it in months, possibly over a year, and it is making me a little nuts. {And let's not even discuss the state of my desk at home...because it's at the point that a lit match may be the only way to deal with it...}

I want to get my plane ticket and hotel sorted out for ALA Midwinter next month. It's another one of those things hanging off my right shoulder about ear level, floating, waiting to pounce and cause a total mental meltdown.

I miss my dad today, too, and Beast's dad. And, more unusually, my mom. There are a lot of days that I think of her--this is one of them--and wonder how the hell she did it. As fraught as our relationship was, I knew she didn't have a particularly easy life. How did she manage to keep her body and soul together when things were falling apart around her so often? That is something I never thought to ask her, and now, when I need to know the answer, it's a little hard to hear her voice. Yeah, right: my tooth hurts, so I want my mommy, OK?

And all of this on a day when I actually accomplished some stuff: Sparky has two new pairs of shoes (Christmas presents) purchased at Famous Footwear this morning, I have 'provisions' in for the week, I actually cooked dinner tonight using a new recipe for something I can't find my old standby recipe for--and even though I boiled over the white sauce in the microwave, I managed to salvage dinner well enough for it to be edible--and we watched Harry Potter...Hallows...2 so I can return it to the library tomorrow FINALLY. It's only 2 weeks-ish overdue!

Perhaps it is time for me to go to bed. I think two Tylenol PMs should help me immeasurably: take away the tooth pain and relax me enough to banish the bogeymen (i.e. worries) for a few hours.

Old haunts

I can't remember if I have mentioned that Sparky is attending the same college that Beast and I went to (independent of our wishes, by the way--he really wanted to go there more than either of us wanted him to). The school is about an hour from our house, so it's quite easy for him to get home and back on holidays, unlike either of his parents who were both at least 1000 miles from home and only got home on the Big Ones: Christmas and Spring Break.

We took him back last night after I got home from work, leaving the house at about 5:45 and dumping his stuff in his dorm room and heading to a nearby pizza dive establishment that also serves up a local specialty: p0nz@r0tti. It's inside-out pizza, deep-fried. Probably the worst food on the planet, and SO FREAKIN' GOOD (till you're done and spend hours burping...).

Amazing: biting into the crust was like biting into College. It brought every p0nz@ I've eaten right back to mind. Crazy-good. Also, last night was the first time I've ever finished one in one sitting. My eating, uhm, skills have increased over the past 30 years, I guess. hah

So we were enjoying the ambiance (ahem) and watching the people coming in to eat or pick up orders. There was a high school-ish aged couple that came in right after us with her little sister; they sat in the booth behind ours. There were families and groups of friends, some stereotypical people, some not-so. Mostly just a busy pizza spot for all intents and purposes.

This being the state that it is, a guy came in and ordered a (small) plastic cup of beer. I am not sure at all whether he ordered anything else, but bear in mind that this is NOT a bar, but every place in that state serves beer. It's required, possibly even state law (I think they have to serve milk too, FWIW, lol). He was clearly already off on his own little spirit-induced planet, which became extremely obvious when he began to play air-guitar licks along with the hard-rock station providing the background music.  This was baroque, visually noisy guitar-playing, very flamboyant. Sparky and I could barely keep straight faces.

Dude then offered his partially-eaten back of pork rinds around to the people behind him (two booths from us), then made a general incoherent announcement that he was willing to share: "Anibod' wan eni? Ann-nee-bod'?" At this point I noted that his beer was only down about 1/2" so he hadn't GOTTEN drunk on-site, but he was (as I told Beast) well past 12 sheets to the wind.

And then he noticed Beast. And Sparky. And came over to push Beast's shoulder and tell him that he could tell that Beast is "a grea' mutha-fuckin' dad!" then point at Sparky and say, "You oughdda be ... yer dad's a good fugg-kin' dad, I can tell! My dad was an asssssss-ho' but this guy....." prod, push "is a GOOD fuckin' dad."

Silence had fallen in the restaurant at this point. Everyone at all the tables was watching avidly from under their hats and half-closed eyes, ever-so-grateful this guy had leeched onto us instead of them, gauging what the chances are of getting out the door without him seeing them and following them out. No one moved.

Beast took it in good stride, keeping his eyes on the guy's face, but watching the rest of the room (that he could see) as well, agreeing with him, not encouraging him, but letting him ramble on. And ramble on he did, mostly in a language I don't speak aside from the frequent "mutha-fucks" and "bu'SHIT!" interpolations. Thankfully, he was so stereotypical of the area that I wasn't even in the room as far as he was concerned, so I could pay attention to the rest of the room (that I could see) and Sparky--who mostly looked shell-shocked but was following his dad's lead and nodding agreeably whenever the diatribe seemed directed at him--until Beast finally said, "Well, we need to get going." Another minute or so, and we were standing and putting our coats on and moving slowly towards the entrance. As soon as we stood, the high school-ish kids behind us were on their feet and moving, using us as shields to get out the door at the same time. I caught the girl's eye in the doorway and she said, "We were just waiting for you to leave so we could!" Yeah, they were the next in line to be 'advised' by this guy.

Sparky and I got to the car with Beast following a few seconds later; he had stopped at the kitchen door because he had been able to see the staff watching from there and wanted to let them know that the guy wasn't really hassling us, but he was right on the edge and could easily get to be a problem if he took something just the wrong way.

This sort of occurrence used to happen occasionally when we lived in the area; it was quite weird to have it happen again last night after living where we do now for 17 years. I don't think we've had to deal this directly with a drunk in eons. Maybe because Sparky was little for most of that time, but I think really it's a whole cultural thing; people around here have a whole different take on drinking than people in that area.

Aside from the nerve-wracking, somewhat humorous aspects of all this, I just felt so sad for the guy. He probably isn't any older than Beast and me, possibly younger, and his life is so small. Sigh.

Sparky...didn't really say much. It probably re-confirmed his lack of interest in drinking, though. I hope. Thanks, God! :-)

Today, Beast is feeling horrible--sort of food-poisoned--and he's wondering if, while shaking the guy's hand goodbye last night, he picked up some kind of bug. The guy's hands were NOT clean; we discussed that last night in fact, and Beast went and washed up at the dorm when we dropped off Sparky. In any case, he's crashed out "watching" Scott Van Pelt on ESPN in his recliner under a blanket.



Oh, and our garage door spring broke over the weekend. It's been a very bizarre few days.

So, here's the deal:

Beast has had two more shots in his spine since he left the hospital. He started physical therapy, finally, last week as he was starting to feel a little better.

Then, last Friday, his dad was sent from his regular dialysis appointment to the ER because he just "wasn't right." He has continued to be "not right" in spite of doctors trying everything they can think of to figure out what has gone wrong. He's had dialysis three times since admission, they've weaned him off all meds that could be making him tired, and they gave him IV steroids to keep pulmonary issues at bay. Except, yeah, he doesn't tolerate IV steroids; they make him hallucinate. So, he's been  completely flaked out for the last couple of days, leading to a distinct lack of appetite today. This is really not like him, to say the least. He is fading.

Beast has medical power of attorney, so if FIL is really unable to make decisions for himself, Beast has to. He's already refused--twice--to have him intubated as that is something FIL has repeatedly said he doesn't want. So, yeah, Beast is ...rough.

Beast's back has gotten substantially worse as the days have gone by, so that tonight he's in the most pain he's been in since the hospital, I think. Some of that can probably be attributed to the stress of the past five days, but he's also been sitting in bad-for-his-back furniture at the hospital, standing on his feet too much, pushing himself. Because this is just exactly the way he rolls. And much of what is going on can really ONLY be done by him.

And my job...omg, so awful. Two professional staff members have given notice in the past 9 weeks; they happen to be the youngest librarians in the building. OK, no, they don't "just happen to be" anything; they couldn't work with our boss, who is truly unworkable-with in many ways.  There is a mutiny afoot as a result. Even I, who haven't had nearly the number of issues with her that other people have (for me, she's mostly just pesky, like that fly that won't stop buzzing around your head for hours), went in and told her I was really, really angry about not being asked about picking up extra hours; I've only been asking for full-time for 5 fuckin' years! She is not professional about her job, either. But, I'm leery; I know how easily things could be worse. So, a little of the ol' rock <--> hard place for me.

Did I mention the last ten days has been the worst allergy season I've been through in the past several years? I feel like warmed-over shit, tired from all the Benadryl and Zyrtec I'm downing to keep me from tearing my throat out. It doesn't help that I'm not sleeping well because of all the other shit going on. At least the Benadryl at bedtime knocks me right out for the night. Last night is typical of the nights I don't do that: slept 11-3, rolled around for another 90 minutes pretending to sleep, gave up at 4:45 and did a crossword until it was time to get up at 5:30. At least I'm not bugging Beast; he can't lie flat, so he's sleeping in the recliner in the living room.

This is why I'm offline. I've dug out the old CD for The Sims and I'm playing that again, as escape. Gah.

THANK GOD Sparky isn't around for this. He is blissfully unaware of how dire things are back at home. Which is just fine.