Time flies when you're having fun.

APOLOGIES - I THOUGHT I HAD ACTUALLY POSTED THIS AT THE BEGINNING OF JUNE...

Holy crap, it's been a month since I got around to posting anything!

To be perfectly honest, the month has just whizzed by.  I'm not sure I have anything particularly insightful to offer you for stopping by, but I'll give you a run through of what we've been up to.

We went to May Long Weekend this year; the first time I've gone in a long time.  I should explain that this "event" has been going on for years, and involves a group of friends who get together every year on the May Long Weekend to partake in ridiculousness, debauchery and other activities.

And drinking.  Lots and lots of drinking.  And other stuff, but we don't need to go into all the details here.  There is generally some sitting around, playing a life-size game of Jenga, horseshoes, frisbee golf, card games, neggling (pounding a nail into a stump with the skinny side of a hammer - much more fun than it sounds), drunken sing songs but most importantly, the GAMES.  Every Saturday afternoon consists of games.  So the 40-odd of us split up into two teams (this year was Batman vs. Spiderman, complete with masks) and participate in whatever evilness Mike and Dan manage to come up with for that particular year.

I would like to point out that my team has never lost.  Just sayin'...

Anyway, this year the games were definitely up to par.  There was the team "dress your blow up doll" competition (your team had to blow up and dress a doll with the clothes they currently had on between them; yes, including underwear and bras), the team "let's all get joined together by a rope and run around and drink" game (can't remember the purpose or outcome of that one, but it was fun), the mystery food eat-off (face off against a member of the opposite team - first one to open and eat whatever was in front of them wins; folks that got the habanero pepper were in world of hurt and WHY wouldn't you just not eat that?), the human beer pong competition (see below) and I think there were other games after that but I seriously can't remember.

But I do know we won again!

Mystery Food Face-Off

Human Beer Pong

Life-Sized Jenga

So that was a great time.  Except as soon as we got home Husband ended up in the hospital with Pancreatitis due to too much fun.

He is fine now, though.

Then I promptly put my back out doing gardening.  Still in pain from that one.  It sucks getting old, but it is really my own fault.  And man, physio is EXPENSIVE.

I don't really have anything too insightful to post this time around.  I'm too f'n tired from having fun.  It's a sad truth, but I have to pace myself now.

Too much fun can have serious repercussions.

To all of my May Long Weekend friends - thanks for the good times and hospitality.  It was much appreciated.  And also for making up stupid games where I have to drink too much.  Great way to justify my ridiculousness.

I promise I will post something sooner and  more "cerebral" next time.  Just too hung over at the moment.

Time flies when you're having fun. :)

Be careful what you wish for...

Firstly, sorry.  It's been awhile.  Many things going on over the summer that sucked up all my time.  New job, house renos (no, not done, still a loooooooong way to go on that front), small man on summer vacation, planning dad's retirement/birthday party, camping and some days of generally feeling shitty.  I have to say, I have noticed my MS a lot more this summer.  I can't tolerate heat much at all anymore - it causes me to feel like I have the flu and get really run down.  So the heat and humidity as of late are killing me.  I am lucky, though, as I get to spend most of my days in an air conditioned office building.  Which is a luxury some people in my medical situation don't have.

Ok, so on to the subject of this post...

"Covet not what others have, for it may be a curse in disguise".  I have no idea where I first heard that.  But for some reason it has always been stuck in my brain.  I also have a vague recollection of a Star Trek episode, the moral of which was the same I think.  Anyway, for a lot of my life but especially since my son was born I have had a rule of never wanting to be someone else or have what someone else has or to have made different choices in my life that would have resulted in things being different now.  Sounds like I'm being morally superior?  Nope.  Completely selfish, really.  Read on...

The reason this all came up was awhile back someone mentioned in a conversation that they'd really like to trade places with someone else.  I couldn't help myself - I butted in and asked if that was really true.  Did they REALLY want to be that person?  "Sure," they said, "that guy has it all - good looking, great job, well paid, nice house, nice cabin, boat, hot wife, vacations twice a year, etc etc.  Why wouldn't you want to trade places?"

"Do you love your kids?" I asked.

"Of course!" they replied.

I pointed out that if they traded places with that person, then their kids wouldn't be their kids anymore.  In fact, if they traded places with that person, they wouldn't even know their kids existed.  Nor their spouse or their friends or their family.

They looked at me like I was crazy.

"No, I only want to have what they have, not actually BE them" they replied (still looking at me like I'm nuts).

"It doesn't work that way"  I said.  "They have what they have because of all the circumstances that got them to this point."

Again the crazy look...

I went on to point out that people are where they are, who they are, have what they have because of a combination of a billion things that lead up to where they are now.  Wishing for only part of that is just stupid.

We agreed to disagree on the subject.  Eventually.  But the one thing they still bring up every time I see them is that they are absolutely astounded that I really, truly do not want to be anyone else, have what others have, or change anything about my life.

Now don't get me wrong - I do covet things.  Like shoes.  And handbags.  And beaches.  But only because I like them, not because others have them.  On occasion, I do get jealous that others have advantages that I do not, and it irritates the hell out of me when stupid, lazy people get away with shit.  But I never want to trade places with others.  Ever.

So this had got me thinking - how many people actually DO wish they were someone else or had what others have?  Do they not understand how insane that is?  Maybe it's the scientist in me, but perhaps I can rid some folks of this ridiculousness by explaining why I feel the way I do.  And also point out why it's not some moral high ground I'm occupying by thinking this way; I'm just keeping the paranoia at bay...

A small part of it is that I am secretly afraid that if I wish something was different, one morning I will wake up and it will be.  And I will be powerless to change it back.  Yup, I'm a wee bit nuts.

But the other, larger part of it is that fundamentally I believe that you cannot wish for PART of something.  The guy who wanted what his colleague had... the colleague has what he has and is where he is in his life because of all the circumstances that got him there.  Sure, some people are "lucky" but really, it's an entire pathway that ended them up where they are.  Unless you want the entire pathway, you shouldn't wish for what they have.  Because you may not like some of the other things that go along with being that guy and having what he has...  some people go through a lot of crap in their lives that isn't visible from the outside.  I'll take the crap I know, thanks very much.  And some people aren't who they appear to be.  What if you wished to trade places with someone and they were secretly a psycho?

"The grass isn't always greener on the other side."  Seriously.  It's not.  They don't just say this shit for no reason.

I will admit there are times that I flop down in a quiet corner somewhere (usually the bathroom - the only place I get any privacy) and ponder how it is my life got itself into whatever state it is that I am bemoaning at the time.  But I never wish for it to be different.  Honestly.

I thought about wishing that I had made different career choices because if I had, there is a good chance I would be making a TON more money right now.  But what if I had made different choices?  What if I had taken something different in school?  Would I have made the friends I made?  Went travelling the world?

If I had a different job, I never would have met the wonderful friends I have made where I have worked.  I would have never moved to Kelowna - and I truly believe I would not have had my son.

If I had taken something different in school, would I have had to work at Costco to put myself through my second degree?

If I hadn't worked at Costco, I never would have met Christa.  We would never have been roommates.  And she never would have invited my future husband over to crash on our couch.

If I never met my husband, I would never have had my son.

There are a million other scenarios I have come up.  But the underlying theme is that if one teeny, tiny detail of my life had changed along the way, things might be completely different.

I have had the argument with people on occasion that take the counter-position of "well, you'd probably be perfectly happy with the life you ended up with because you wouldn't know any better."  Likely true.

But I DO know what I have now.  Would I gamble on having something better with the possibility (however slight) of ending up with something worse?  Not a chance.

To me, it's never about that.

If I had changed one thing about my life, there is a very real possibility that I would never of had my son.  The thought of that makes me want to rip my heart out because it hurts too badly to even THINK about that.

So I don't.

It's not just about my son, though.  It's about everything I do have.  Even MS.  What if I didn't get MS?  Sure, I'd like it very much if I didn't have this disease.  But if I didn't, would I have slowed down?  Taken better care of myself?  Paid more attention to my health and stress levels?  What if I didn't do that and it ended up causing me to be more sick - the kind of sick that cannot be managed with medication?  The "you end up dead" kind of sick.  Thanks, but I'll stick with the evil I know.  And yes, that is a righteous position to take considering I have a relatively lesser form of the disease as compared to some.  I see your "wow, what a sanctimonious bitch" card and raise you an "I'm not perfect so fuck off" card.

Where was I?

Oh, yes.  Ok, so I will admit the one thing I do wish for on occasion is NOT having eaten that extra cookie at work or skipping my workout.  Or buying shoes.  And I do wish sometimes that I had the willpower of certain people to do the things I regret not doing.  But then I go through the cycle of "what if I did have the willpower?  It would be something that would have affected who I am and where I'm at, etc...."

And down the rabbit hole you go...

So, the next time you're looking at someone and catch yourself wishing you had what they had, were who they were or that things in your life were different, remember that you are where you are because of a billion little things that got you to this point.  If you changed just one, you might not be who you are.  Would you risk that and potentially end up being some asshole?  Because I wouldn't be friends with you if you were an asshole.  Even if you had a boat.

Be careful what you wish for... :)

Two steps forward, one step back…

Or, “Random Acts of Kindness and Bomb Threats”
Or, “One Woman’s Quest to Deal with Anxiety”(It was hard to pick a title for this post…)

Revelation:  I have determined that most people are NOT stupid assholes.

I know, I know, those who know me personally are likely shocked by this statement.  Believe me, it has thrown my universe into turmoil, as you see now I have to re-think my base assumptions.  It would seem I’ve had an epiphany of sorts.  And this is the random, twisty, pot-holed road I took to get there (you may want to grab a beverage and a snack – it rambles a bit).

Go on, pour yourself a glass.  I’ll wait.

Ok, so until very recently it would appear that I hadn’t come into contact with very many different people.  Mostly the same, relatively small number of people on a fairly regular basis.  Why?  Well, after some thought I believe it was a complicated math-y-type function of the following variables:

Where I worked.  Including the company, the physical location (booneys), the relatively small number of people in my office, and the fact that we didn’t get out much and didn’t have a lot of visitors (to the office, I mean).

Having lived “abroad” for 6 years (and by “abroad” I mean Kelowna).  We moved there and promptly got pregnant; having a baby right after moving there hampered the meeting people part (post-partum issues, especially anxiety, didn’t help that much either).  The work situation was similar (except for location, it was stellar, and so were the folks there though few in number).

Excellent friends.  Both The Husband and I have super awesome friends.  It’s difficult for me to start new “serious” friendships because I already have several of the best ones you could ask for.  I mean, I’m friendly, I’m not a total bitch, but it was hard to make new friends in Kelowna because of the good ones I had back home.  No one really measured up - except LP, who is equally as bat shit crazy, sarcastic and smartypants as I am.  Plus, I barely have time to see my most excellent friends, so how the hell can I fit new ones in? (I know, I know, terrible problem to have – but this is not a grateful, introspective post so fuck off and don’t judge me).

My shitty, shitty memory.  I have a crappy memory for most things except random, useless fucking information.  And it has gotten worse, likely because of the MS.  Don’t get me wrong, though,  it was always bad.  I can’t remember people’s names (or their faces, or most things about them) unless I’ve met them several times.  So I end up looking like a complete twat or a self-centered arse.  Which I am not, but can totally see how people would think that.  Again, not great for meeting people.

My general distrust of all things.  You were waiting for me to say “… of all things lime green” or “… of all things with peppers in them”.  Nope.  ALL things.  I am paranoid and have anxiety.  I distrust everything, ESPECIALLY since my son was born.  I’m working on it when I’m not trying to figure out who in the elevator is a serial killer…

So how did this tiny little world develop around me? Me, world traveller, adventurer and general “I’ll try anything once” girl?  I came to dislike change.  It’s not that I can’t cope with change – I very much can.  It’s not that I don’t like new adventures or things of that sort – I definitely do.  I don’t hate change - I just dislike it for the most part.  It throws me for a bit of a loop and in my time-crunched, maxed-out, anxiety-ridden everyday world, I don’t have time for that.  It fucks with my chi, if you will. 

That, and because of my anxiety and busyness, it would seem that I subconsciously made my world smaller.

*****Feel free to use this space to refill your booze and replace your snack.  Go on.*****

Where was I?  Oh yeah.  So, when my world has developed a nice, easy routine what do I do?

I blow it up.  (That’s a reference for you, Trish)

Now I work at a very large company (literally thousands of people around me everyday) in a building on the 32^nd floor (which bothers me in all sorts of ways – planes crashing into it, being on fire, the windows don’t open so recirculating germs, people going postal, getting trapped in an elevator, etc, etc) going to meetings where I have to remember peoples’ names (yikes) and people here are from all over the world.  And I have to take the train everyday.

And most (like, 99%) of these new people I’ve encountered have been nice.  Really quite lovely.  Helpful.  Genuine.  Plus, I’ve been witness to, and occasionally the recipient of, random acts of kindness.

And thus the astounding revelation popped into my head (and was the impetus for this particularly long post, sorry) – most people are not stupid assholes, as I had previously presumed.

Hmmm.  Imagine that!

This was GREAT!  It was doing wonders for my anxiety.  I actually let my kid go play at someone’s house down the road – someone I didn’t really know (ok, so she was like about 70 years old and it was her grandchildren, but it was progress for me).  I stopped thinking about serial killers and kidnappers at least 60% of the time.  I stopped worrying that at any moment anarchy was going to break out on the train and I was going to be attacked and it would be all “Mad Max” and everyone for themselves...AND I ACTUALLY WENT TO BED WITHOUT CHECKING THE DOORS AND WINDOWS MYSELF (seriously, it’s been years).  We stopped to rescue a dog on the road, cars actually stopped, we found the owner and she was so incredibly happy and grateful.  I met a bunch of really nice people at a course and we went for drinks and it was fun and none of them were serial killers or kidnappers or rapists.  The world was all butterflies and flowers and designer handbags 80% off (that was a metaphor, not an actual sale, so don’t email me asking where the sale is).  Things were going so well…

And then there was a bomb threat at the building next door which shut down half of downtown and we were on notice to evacuate (we didn’t, though) – fucked a little with the progress I had made with working in a tall building I cannot easily get out of.  And then The Husband left the big, main window in the house open all night long (with fans going upstairs so I wouldn’t have heard anyone breaking in).  And then they found those three kidnapped women in Cleveland…

Though I still stand by my revelation that most folks are not stupid assholes, I will be going home to have a big swig of wine anxiety medication tonight.

But I will be checking the windows and doors...

Two steps forward, one step back.

Good days and bad days...

"I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several attack me at once."
Jennifer Yane

I do love the Kaiser Chiefs…

So, sorry, no blogging for awhile.  And right after I promised myself I would, too.  Oh well, if you can’t break promises to yourself… - wait, that’s probably not the best way to look at that…

Let’s start again.

In my defense, the following events have occurred since I last wrote anything (in somewhat of a chronological order):

• I started a new job at a new company after leaving my old company (of 13 years)

I was “the boss” at my old company and now I am new and don’t know anything.  Which is okay, as it is my job over the next two years to learn what I need to and get up to speed.  The problem isn’t with the job, it’s with me and my impatience - it’s really frustrating at times not knowing things especially having come from a position where I pretty much knew everything.  Is it ego?  Maybe a little.  Plus I have an extra hour of commute everyday and have to get up really early which I HATE, but am adjusting to.

• I started my MS drug trial.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t get the study drug since I am having horrendous reactions to the injection drug, which I have to inject three times a week.  And YES it hurts.  And NO, in typical me fashion I didn’t really think about the whole injecting myself with a needle thing on a regular basis in any great detail until I actually went home and had to stick myself the first time and sat there in the bathroom thinking “hmmm, well, how did I get here, exactly, and geez this is gonna kinda suck I think”.  And did I mention it hurts?  It does.  I wasn’t counting on that.  I mean, I used to watch my Grampa inject himself with insulin and I asked him if it hurt and he said no.  But this stuff I’m injecting (Interferon) is acidic and it stings like a sonofabitch.  Now I look like someone with tiny fists has been pummelling my legs and stomach (with the blotches) but let’s face it, I wasn’t going to be wearing a bikini anytime soon anyway…

• My kid gets pink eye and shares.

So my kid gets pink eye.  A normal kid thing to get.  But mommy has a compromised immune system thanks to her disease and current medication, so mommy also gets pink eye.  EPIC pink eye, for her second week at work, which is comprised entirely of meetings and meeting new people.  Remember in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off where Mooney gets hit in the face and his eye is all swollen shut?  Like that.  Fantastic.

• Easter Sunday was a fucking catasptrophe.

So my mom came to stay over so she could watch the wee child hunt for easter eggs on Sunday morning.  Which she did.  Afterwards, though, she proceeded to have a stroke (at least that’s what we thought at the time, and without going into too much detail on past experience, we were pretty justified in thinking so) in the living room.  The men in my family just stood there looking dumbstruck… This is kinda how it went:

Me:  “Mom, mom, are you okay?”  Then, out loud to myself “nope, don’t think she’s okay”…

Me, turning to my son:  “Hey buddy, you can go downstairs and watch channel 20 if you like” which he is normally not allowed to do.  Son runs downstairs at the speed of light – he knows a golden opportunity when he sees ones.

Me, turning to my husband and my dad, who are just standing there:  “Dad, you need to call an ambulance.  Husband, you need to help me get her lying down on the floor.”

Dad:  “Are you sure, I mean, she might be alright in a few minutes?”

Me:  “Yup, or she might be dead in a few minutes.  Worth a call in my opinion so PICK UP THE GODDAMN PHONE AND DIAL IT NOW” (getting a bit agitated).

Husband, muttering to himself: “oh my god oh my god…”.

Dad, on the phone, giving me the instructions from the 911 operator.  Husband, still muttering to himself.  Son, downstairs, singing the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme song at the top of his lungs (remember, he’s seen gramma pass out many times and then come to fairly quickly so he doesn’t really get that anything major is going on, plus he gets to watch channel 20…).

Ambulance and Fire Truck arrive.  Happy Easter morning cul-de-sac neighbours, hope you were awake.  Son was very happy as fire fighters allowed him to play on the truck while paramedics helped gramma - best Easter morning ever in his books.  Paramedics spill coffee all over newly steamed cleaned carpets while moving furniture in order to get gurney in that is now covered in mud from the front lawn (not that it was important at the time, but afterwards it was a bit of a pisser).  Loaded mom up and off she went to the hospital; was doing much better when she left.  Sent dad with her as he was not being useful anyway and told him to update me when they sorted things out.  Phoned sister, had her head up there to supervise dad. 

Did I mention that there were 20 people on their way over for early dinner?  Did I mention that part?  So in between trying to find out what was going on with mom at the hospital, actually going up there myself to make sure things were okay, and cooking dinner for 20 people (well, 18 because my sister and mom were now at the hospital), it was a bit stressful.

Yup, Easter was AWESOME.

The only thing that made it even better was a nastygram from husband’s father the next day basically writing us off for not calling them to wish them happy Easter.  Funny, I remember that he has a phone, too…  Then when husband emails to tell them what happened, do we get an apology?  Nope.  Somehow still our fault.  Icing on the cake, really.  Fuck him.

• The week after Easter Sunday sucked, too (aka Mom in the hospital for a week).

Super fun.  Life schedule was modified to include going straight from work to the hospital each day to relieve my sister, then home to put kid to bed, then to bed myself.  Had to drive to work so paid $32 in parking each day, then another $8 at the hospital.  Someone had to be there with her because the doctors won’t come at a specific time and trusting my mother to remember what they’ve told her is pointless.  She is still convinced they took x-rays of her feet – which they did not.  Fun times.

Sometimes you just have to let the basement go to hell and your son eat his dinner in his racecar...

• Mom out of hospital, me in.  Barftastic.

The day my mom was released, I promptly got either food poisoning or the stomach flu.  To the point that I couldn’t even keep water down.  Given the drugs I am on, it is very important that I don’t get dehydrated, so it was off to the hospital for me to get an IV.  And then laying in bed.  Happy weekend!

But really, whaddya gonna do?  I did have some really good days, too.

The funny thing is, for a lot of these things that happened, that stupid Kaiser Chiefs song kept running through my head like a melodic mantra.  I think it kept me sane.  Because there’s nothing you can do in those situations.  I mean, I guess you can just crumple up in a ball on the floor and cry and rock back and forth, but in the end it’s still going to be waiting for you when you are done having your meltdown and you’ll still have to deal with it all.  Only then you’ll be tired from the crying and won’t be able to cope as well.  At least that’s how I look at it.

Plus, I have a wee man I have to be there for no matter what.

I think that since I have been sick and have days where I literally can’t walk or get out of bed, it makes me grateful for the days I can.  Even when those days are not great for other reasons.  I look at it like “it could be worse – I could be having to deal with this AND have to drag myself around like Quasimodo”.

But don’t get me wrong, I’m still not going to the gym everyday! I’m grateful but I’m still a lazy ass…

The end of an era...

Well that's it, that's all folks!

My last day at work at, let's call it RLS, was Thursday, February 28th.

While you may be sitting there thinking, "that's nice" I'm being a bit more contamplative about it and because you are reading this (unless you've stopped by this point) then you get to be, too.

I worked there for just shy of 13 years.  And as I wrote in my goodbye email to everyone, that's a long time in the sense of one's life in general.

During the time I worked there:

I turned 30.
I turned 40.
My dad had a heart attack.
My mom went from being independent to being in a nursing home.
I lost several family members.
I bought a house.
I sold that house (for some not so great reasons).
I moved back home.
I moved out again.
I got married.
We moved to Kelowna.
We bought another house.
We had a wee child.
We sold that house.
We moved back from Kelowna.
I worked in three RLS offices, the favourite being in Kelowna (I love those guys).
Plus a whole bunch of other things...

It was the backdrop to my life for a very significant period.

btw - I didn't get fired, I left.  In case you were wondering.  If they'd fired me after all of that I probably would be writing this from jail...

Leaving wasn't a decision I made lightly.  It was a great job.  I was the manager, so I pretty much had free reign to do whatever.  And I do mean that.  I came in when I wanted, I left when I wanted, I took people for lunch when I wanted, I took days off when I wanted, I worked on what I wanted (and foisted the stuff I didn't), when I didn't like something I called the CEO and while he didn't necessarily agree with me all the time, he listened and actually gave a shit.  Either that or he's really good at pretending.  But he's a British engineer, so I doubt he's a good pretender.  They are pretty straight up.

anyway, where was I?...

Oh yeah.  So I decided to leave.  EVERYONE I've told has immediately responded with "WHY??!!  Are you CRAZY?  You have MS, you are likely to get worse as time goes on, your employer has said do whatever you need to, take whatever time you need, your job will always be here and we will support you.  You have the dream job for someone living with MS!".  Even my doctor.

And that was what made me leave.

I don't want a dream job for someone with MS.  I want a job for ME, without the MS.  Am I separable from the MS as this point?  YES.  Regardless of what my body thinks.

I've been thinking about a change for awhile.  It's not that I wasn't good at my job - I was.  Really good.  I'm not tootin my own horn, I'm stating a fact.  I was really good at what I did.  But like many things in my life, just because I'm really good at them doesn't mean I want to do them.  I mean, yes, I do a fantastic job of cleaning the bathroom, I just don't want to do it all the time.

It was a tough decision.  But in the end, my desire to not be limited by my disease won.  That and I cannot be bored.  Nothing good comes of it for anyone.

And I should be honest, making a change now while I have the energy and few limitations was a big factor.

I do stuggle with the decision on a daily basis, especially considering it will impact my family.  The new job means a much longer commute (at least an hour a day) which is less time I have to spend with my wee man (and my not so wee man).  I will miss my snuggles with the wee man in the morning and will try to figure out how to make that up to him <guilt>.  But in the end I think a happier mommy will make a better mommy.  And wife.  And did I mention it's more $$$?  Ahhhh, the not-so-altuistic factor.  I'm okay with that :)

Don't get me wrong, if I won the lottery tomorrow I wouldn't work.  At a paying job.  But I am one of those people who have to get up in the morning with something to do.  A charity for sure.  And travelling.  But something to do.

So off I go on Monday to the large towers downtown.  I'm not sure how I will enjoy my walk to the train station and the *ahem* colourful characters one finds on the train.  I am not sure how I will do working in a highrise, considering I don't like them and am a tiny bit claustrophobic (thanks, Bin Laden, I didn't have enough anxiety before Sept. 11).  I'm not sure if or when or how my MS is going to affect me.  I'm not sure how I will do at the new job considering I have absolutely no experience doing it which will be quite a change from the one I just had that I could do in my sleep...

I'm not nervous, I'm so friggin excited I can't stand it!!!!  I'm going shopping for new clothes and a commuter bag!!!!  I already bought new pants.

And right now I'm looking at my shiny new bus pass tacked to the bulletin board - wish me luck :)

dickpants

I'm not sure what happens to men as they get older...

My husband is normally a kind, considerate, polite and thoughtful person.  But over the last year he has declared a sort of mini-war on stupid and impolite people.  Recently, though, this mini-war has escalated into a full-on assault.

I'm not sure where it all started.  I think it was an accumulation of too many years of working with people, combined with too many encounters with poor customer service and regular run-ins with really stupid people - and one day he snapped.

He went from being super polite and patient husband to "hey ladies - if you are going to stop and compare plastic surgery stories would you mind not doing it in the middle of the fucking aisle?  Some of us have better things to do with our days then wait for you to fucking MOVE!"  This was at Superstore.  He then proceeded to move their carts out of his way WITH OUR CART.  I, meanwhile, turned around and went the other way...

And you need to understand, I myself am not the most patient person, so when I think you've gone too far, it is likely that you have.

He was on his way to the sportplex with our son for skating and some guy in a sportscar cut him off, and then gave him the finger to boot. This unfortunate fellow then also proceeded to go to the sportsplex...  and, admittedly, this guy parked like an asshole, at the end and taking up a spot and part of the aisle (difficult to explain).  So my husband proceeded to block him in.  When they were done skating my husband walked my son over to the mall for lunch on purpose.  When they got back the guy had likely been waiting there for a couple of hours... Before the guy can say anything, my husband loads my son in the car, shuts the door (at least he told me he did) and then says to the guy, "yup, betcha didn't think anyone could park like more of a douchebag than you, did ya?".  Then he just leaves.

I told him he was lucky - the guy could have been a nutter or had a gun or something!  My husband said the guy was short, fat, bald and judging from the cost of the car, was likely compensating for something.  He also added that if the guy had been huge, he wouldn't have done it.  At least not with wee man in the car.  So not dumb, but still...

Once in awhile, this is actually very funny.  On a constant basis, it can grate on you.

So I have developed a retaliatory mechanism that is short, to-the-point, yet conveys my dissatisfaction with his behaviour in a non-confrontational way:

'dickpants'

It started out with me asking him if he had put on his "I'm going to be a dick today" pants everytime I thought he was going too far.

It has been shortened now to just me looking at him and calling him "dickpants".  Point made.

Unfortunately, this has spawned the equally popular (but not with ME) "bitchshorts".

Ahhhh compromise.  It's what makes our relationship work. :)

Just when you've reached your limit...

Why do little kids only develop ear infections between the hours of 11:45 pm and 3:30 am?

WHY?

And why never on a weekend, unless there are plans that involve travel and/or reservations and/or prepaid anything?

Always Late Mommy was No Show Mommy today for work.  I have only have two weeks left before I start my new job, I'll be gone tomorrow for yet another MRI (which will be a write off - they have to sedate me because of my claustrophobia - will be f'd up for the day), AND Monday is a holiday here, I'm beginning to feel panicked about not getting things done.

This is the opposite of what the white coats have instructed me to be doing.  I'm supposed to be "relaxing" and "taking time for myself" and "sleeping" (imagine me doing air quotes while you read that).  And a bunch of other impossible bullshit for a mom, ahem, "stuff".

I remember when my main neurologist told me this and I laughed at him.  Hysterically.

He gave me the "look".  I've gotten that look many times before, so I'm used to it now.  The look that says "you are not taking this seriously" or "we can't help you if you refuse to help yourself" or "you are not listening and you will be sorry".

I do understand and I am listening.  I'm just not hearing anything that is remotely feasible for a working mom with a dependent parent and a husband who, well, tries.

I'm getting to my point, bear with me, I was up at 2am...

So I am overtired from being up all night with a screaming child (not just sick, but screaming in pain), my husband is not going to be able to handle this so I've just called into work and feel incredibly guilty for cancelling four appointments, my kid is crying out to me to make his ear stop hurting "please mommy please", I made the mistake of checking my email (48 new messages - great), and I am freaking about very soon being stuffed in a very tiny space for 90 minutes with no way to get out (you are strapped in).

It wasn't so much that I had reached my limit, I had gone so far past it I had almost lapped myself.

And then my wee man looks at me through his tears and stuffy nose and says, "I nub new mum, happy valtines day".  And miraculously falls asleep:

And THEN my husband gives me one of the best valentines presents ever.  It was folded up like a note that a boy would pass to you in school.

And I FINALLY get a cup of coffee.

All is right with the world again.  And it didn't take yoga or meditation or "me time" or deep breathing or any of that bullshit.

They can take their "look" and...

As good a place to start as any...

Ok, so I've been meaning to get on this for awhile.  But as the name of this blog implies, I'm *occasionally* pressed for time...

I'm not always late, but often.  Ok, a lot.  I try not to be, mostly because it makes people mad, not really because I want to be on time.

You see, I'm doing the best I can.

I am a wife, mommy, daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, sister-in-law, and friend.  I have a 5 year old son and a husband who, on occasion, causes me more grief than my 5 year old son (love you honey!).

And while I am grateful for all of the people in my life that result in me being these things to them, I am also other things.

I am a full-time worker.  Specifically, a Professional Agrologist.  You'll have to look that up yourself - I've been trying to explain it for years and I'm pretty sure I lose most folks after the first 15 seconds.  Not only that, but because I am bossy and don't play well with others (that last part's not true anymore, they sent me for training to learn to be nice) I generally end up in charge.  Eventually.  Which sucks up even more time...

Before I go on, my apologies to all in my life who will be dragged into this blog.  You will not be named, but you will know who you are.  It was your fault for becoming involved with me in the first place.  If you didn't read the fine print, that's your problem now, people!  Except for my son.  Mommy apologizes and promises to pay for all your therapy later.

There's a whole lot more to all of the above, which is why I am here, writing this at this very moment. It is my way of trying to sort out the chaos of what happens everyday and put aside what brief moments I have to reflect a little, laugh a little, cry a little, vent a little, celebrate a little, and just generally be grateful for what I have.

Because life has a way of kicking you in the lady balls if you take it for granted (I fully stole that sentiment from a very humorous lady at I'm Not Drunk, Wait).

Did I also mention that for my birthday this last December that life decided to do just that?

Happy 42nd Birthday, Holly - you have MS! (*yay*  *balloons*  *pinata*  *cake*)

Yup, that'll get anyone's attention, even mine!

Life demanded quite insistently that I stop taking it for granted, take better care of myself, stop procrastinating and bloody well sort myself out!

Well, I'm getting to all of that after an initial period of being an ostrich about the whole matter and then feeling sorry for myself for a bit.

You are welcome to come along for the ride...