System update incapacitated my phone for about 30 minutes and it was *all* bullshit. I don't have the option of starting the update whenever it's convenient, I have to be "asked" by my phone... after awhile "remind me later" is a response my phone will no longer find acceptable.
Once I'm informed that the update is complete... my phone still doesn't work because the update is not complete - the download is. It still needs to actually integrate the update into the system and *that* takes time that my phone kindly does not tell me it needs.
So it appears to crash, screen goes dark, notifications start coming in... but I cannot turn off the phone, restart the phone or even change the volume.
So I'm forced to listen to my phone chime and ding at me while I rage incoherently at it.
My lazy Sunday morning - killed in a fog of rage because I wanted to quickly check a text to make sure it wasn't something important..
Then Amazon had to send me *ANOTHER* Email asking me to update my payment information... because I forgot to update the card when the bank sent me a new one out of the blue because somewhere I used it had been compromised... but I FIXED THAT by going into my account and literally removing EVERY OTHER CARD that was there just a few minutes after placing the order. The order I placed last week. That I just now got an Email asking me to update payment info... which I did last week... my head fucking exploded.
All of this is on top of the joy of listening to the chorus of my husband's fucking alarm and his god damned nose for a solid 20 minutes ON MY DAY TO SLEEP IN. Do something about the sleep apnea before MY sleep deprivation causes problems... oops. Too late. I don't understand. I really don't fucking understand. You know that you have sleep apnea and you sleep like absolute shit because of it... your spouse is CONSTANTLY complaining about how your snoring - caused by your sleep apnea - is affecting her sleep in a very negative way... but do you do anything about it? Nope. You just get quiet and act butt-hurt when she's pissed off because her sleep got fucked with... AGAIN... and you don't seem to give a fuck. Take fucking pills to go to sleep. Get dependent on them. Have to DOUBLE YOUR FUCKING DOSE because you've been on them for so many years. Pills make snoring worse. Some good answers. I thought I married an intelligent man.
To top it all off I've just informed the boy that if he fucking mentions the Nintendo Switch ONE MORE TIME he's not getting it for Christmas. He won't stop. Have we ordered it? We'd better order it. Has it been delivered? We have to make sure the package doesn't get stolen. When he opens it on Christmas NOTHING ELSE WILL MATTER and he's gonna set it up and play a level of a game before he opens the rest of his presents and on and on and on and on and I fucking made him cry.
I'm SICK OF IT.
Apparently I'm a ball of rage today.
I find it preferable to the ball of incredible sadness and misery I was for the last couple of days but I don't think anyone else will.
Sunday, November 12, 2017
Sunday, November 5, 2017
the problem with sunday
Sundays are hard. They're hard because they're my only real day off... I don't have to work, I don't have to take the boy to school, I can sleep in and lay about the house... but they're also the only day we're really together as a family, so it's the day for family outings and such... but they're also the day that I feel is best to catch up on the stuff that I fell behind on during the work week... but then... I just want to do nothing all day and fuck it all.
So the coffee cup is empty and the joint is gone and I'm struggling with what to do with myself.
I can sit here and waste time for hours, I've proven my skills.
The thing is... no matter what choice I make today... I'll feel as though I wasted the day. Sunday is about finding balance. Doing just enough of each thing that I wish to accomplish to feel that I've had a productive day... yet not feel as though I wasted my opportunity for a lazy day.
This probably means that yard work is better done on Tuesday.
So far I've managed to balance today fairly well but I'm starting to get anxious about getting things done and am finding it difficult to do nothing.
Damn first world problems and shit.
So the coffee cup is empty and the joint is gone and I'm struggling with what to do with myself.
I can sit here and waste time for hours, I've proven my skills.
The thing is... no matter what choice I make today... I'll feel as though I wasted the day. Sunday is about finding balance. Doing just enough of each thing that I wish to accomplish to feel that I've had a productive day... yet not feel as though I wasted my opportunity for a lazy day.
This probably means that yard work is better done on Tuesday.
So far I've managed to balance today fairly well but I'm starting to get anxious about getting things done and am finding it difficult to do nothing.
Damn first world problems and shit.
Friday, November 3, 2017
depression fucking sucks
I read a lot of bullshit on the internet.
I don't know why.
It's entertaining but essentially useless.
Brides tell the how they were left at the alter.
Retail workers share their worst customers.
I eat this shit up and I know damn well that I'm doing it to avoid the things I should be doing... in some cases I get so caught up in Ask Amy and Miss Manners clicking from page to page and cussing out ad after ad when I honestly just want to read my book.
So why don't I open the book?
It's right there.
Right next to me.
Instead I get pissed off about the people who can't seem to deal with a co-worker who won't stop drinking their beverages. I get irritated at the guy whose fiance wants more time to plan their wedding and isn't willing to consider a short engagement... when the dude's mom is fucking dieing. Dump. Her. Now.
An hour goes by and I realize I haven't eaten dinner, I haven't done my chores and now I don't have time to read, or watch my shows, or work on any of the projects I have piling around me... mocking me.
I do this to avoid... But why do I avoid the pleasure of reading for a little before dinner? Why do I skip dinner so I can do my chores? Why do I go to bed hungry and unsatisfied because I never took the time to watch one of my shows... even though when I got home from work I had plenty of time to get everything done...
I don't know why.
It's entertaining but essentially useless.
Brides tell the how they were left at the alter.
Retail workers share their worst customers.
I eat this shit up and I know damn well that I'm doing it to avoid the things I should be doing... in some cases I get so caught up in Ask Amy and Miss Manners clicking from page to page and cussing out ad after ad when I honestly just want to read my book.
So why don't I open the book?
It's right there.
Right next to me.
Instead I get pissed off about the people who can't seem to deal with a co-worker who won't stop drinking their beverages. I get irritated at the guy whose fiance wants more time to plan their wedding and isn't willing to consider a short engagement... when the dude's mom is fucking dieing. Dump. Her. Now.
An hour goes by and I realize I haven't eaten dinner, I haven't done my chores and now I don't have time to read, or watch my shows, or work on any of the projects I have piling around me... mocking me.
I do this to avoid... But why do I avoid the pleasure of reading for a little before dinner? Why do I skip dinner so I can do my chores? Why do I go to bed hungry and unsatisfied because I never took the time to watch one of my shows... even though when I got home from work I had plenty of time to get everything done...
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
can't focus on the thing
Although I love the extra time I get when I start work late I do not love getting home late.
There is so much.
So, so much.
I wish I had time to sit down and do this daily.
Motivation.
That's the big one.
Every morning I sit here with a million thoughts running through my head, seeking an outlet... even if they're stupid, meaningless, random ramblings the thing is...
The thing is it's so much better for me to just let it all out. To sit here and let it pour out so it's not cluttering up my mind.
My brain is like a stove. A good eight burner stove top. Every burner going at once. Sometimes its so hard to keep the seven burners that aren't immediate from boiling. If more than two start to roll a panic attack hits and then all bets are off. I could be fine in a few minutes or it could take a couple hours and I spend the rest of the day shaky and jumpy. The slightest thing could set off another panic attack and if there's more than one a day I don't want to know what will happen.
I usually have one on the way to work every Wednesday.
Should be fun.
The anxiety starts to ramp up...
But we won't discuss that.
Again... so much.
I can't focus on any one thing because there are too many things. When I do manage to focus on something I run out of time and the daily grind interferes and then who knows how long it will be for me to get back to the thing?
Pressing needs.
Pressing desires.
No time. It's an hour of chores that stretches into two hours... then it's time to fold all the laundry and give treats to the cats and three other things pop up and in the interest of not starting another huge list I take care of them just to find that it's time to fold more laundry and make dinner and I never got to the thing.
Making it a point to focus on certain things in my life is helping to get things done but my kitchen cabinets are out of fucking control and they're getting to the point where I don't know how much longer I can handle it. But the curtains. I need to focus on hemming and making and hanging the curtains.
No time.
If I could take the day off I would be able to focus on the curtains today.
I could get so much done because there's nothing else to do.
This is why I want to cut my days down to three... to give me that day to focus on the thing. Whatever the current thing may be.
There is so much.
So, so much.
I wish I had time to sit down and do this daily.
Motivation.
That's the big one.
Every morning I sit here with a million thoughts running through my head, seeking an outlet... even if they're stupid, meaningless, random ramblings the thing is...
The thing is it's so much better for me to just let it all out. To sit here and let it pour out so it's not cluttering up my mind.
My brain is like a stove. A good eight burner stove top. Every burner going at once. Sometimes its so hard to keep the seven burners that aren't immediate from boiling. If more than two start to roll a panic attack hits and then all bets are off. I could be fine in a few minutes or it could take a couple hours and I spend the rest of the day shaky and jumpy. The slightest thing could set off another panic attack and if there's more than one a day I don't want to know what will happen.
I usually have one on the way to work every Wednesday.
Should be fun.
The anxiety starts to ramp up...
But we won't discuss that.
Again... so much.
I can't focus on any one thing because there are too many things. When I do manage to focus on something I run out of time and the daily grind interferes and then who knows how long it will be for me to get back to the thing?
Pressing needs.
Pressing desires.
No time. It's an hour of chores that stretches into two hours... then it's time to fold all the laundry and give treats to the cats and three other things pop up and in the interest of not starting another huge list I take care of them just to find that it's time to fold more laundry and make dinner and I never got to the thing.
Making it a point to focus on certain things in my life is helping to get things done but my kitchen cabinets are out of fucking control and they're getting to the point where I don't know how much longer I can handle it. But the curtains. I need to focus on hemming and making and hanging the curtains.
No time.
If I could take the day off I would be able to focus on the curtains today.
I could get so much done because there's nothing else to do.
This is why I want to cut my days down to three... to give me that day to focus on the thing. Whatever the current thing may be.
Monday, October 9, 2017
post con lack of motivation
Honestly, conventions are exhausting. If I still wore that dam FitBit it would have exploded. Of course, all the driving I also did brought the fact that I need my wheel bearings checked to my attention. I've had this problem before, it's no fun. I drove that one until the wheel bearing gave out, that was... and interesting drive. Ever drive a car with a wobbly wheel? I don't recommend it. Scary. So I'll get that dealt with in the next couple of weeks as it's still minor. Of course, our mechanic retired and closed up shop so the joy of finding a new mechanic is overwhelming. As a woman this experience can be extra super fun.
My work schedule is finally back to normal after three weeks of having to constantly remind myself what day of the week it was and which days I had to be at work. It's a balm to my poor tired brain and coupled with the con exhaustion I'm finding it very hard to give a damn that there are three days worth of dishes in the sink, we're running out of clean underwear, and the fridge is empty.
I have a pretty long list for today... almost an entire sheet of paper... I had all the drive and motivation to do it last night, went to bed optimistic. Went to bed with a game plan.
Overslept by ten minutes and once the boy was dropped off at school I promptly came home and did nothing.
I know damn well I'm using the excuse of the spousal unit's state of unconsciousness.
I'll get started when he gets up.
Besides, I'd like to run my errands first and I have no desire to back his car out of the driveway to unearth my own.
Let me finish this joint and I'll get my ass in gear... or something.
My work schedule is finally back to normal after three weeks of having to constantly remind myself what day of the week it was and which days I had to be at work. It's a balm to my poor tired brain and coupled with the con exhaustion I'm finding it very hard to give a damn that there are three days worth of dishes in the sink, we're running out of clean underwear, and the fridge is empty.
I have a pretty long list for today... almost an entire sheet of paper... I had all the drive and motivation to do it last night, went to bed optimistic. Went to bed with a game plan.
Overslept by ten minutes and once the boy was dropped off at school I promptly came home and did nothing.
I know damn well I'm using the excuse of the spousal unit's state of unconsciousness.
I'll get started when he gets up.
Besides, I'd like to run my errands first and I have no desire to back his car out of the driveway to unearth my own.
Let me finish this joint and I'll get my ass in gear... or something.
Friday, October 6, 2017
who needs sleep
Confusion and forgetfulness. Kinda awful.
I know there's depression and anxiety in there and to add the hormonal bullshit of dealing with the perimenopause is taking its toll on me.
Did I mention sleep? I need so much more of it.
I recognize that I need to make changes in my life for the betterment of my health but who doesn't? Getting more sleep as I get older is apparently part of that but it's really hard. Part of why I don't get enough sleep is because I treasure my quiet time in the evenings and I'm incredibly selfish. In the moment I'd rather have an hour to watch a show or read. Of course the next morning I'm irritated and wish I could get another hour of sleep.
I keep telling myself to stop, to get the sleep, the books and shows will be there tomorrow.
But then I remember that by doing so I'm the one who is making changes to my lifestyle in order to accommodate someone else because... in all honesty... at least 2/3 of the time I'd get an extra 20-40 minutes of sleep every night if my husband would get his fucking CPAP for his sleep apnea and stop snoring loud enough to rattle the windows.
Or he would rattle the windows if we hadn't had them replaced last week.
That was a busy, crazy day but it's so nice having decent windows that open smoothly, lock reliably and cut out more noise from outside.
Windows aside... He would sleep a lot better as well and I wouldn't have to listen to him constantly bitching about how he didn't sleep and he's so tired.
I want to punch him every time he says he's tired.
This entire week has been bullshit and there's no point in laying it all out. Scheduling, dealing with humanity, traffic, parental drama... it's a story and-a-half and not very interesting.
Having to get up before the sun rose was not a pleasant experience.
I work a half day today, day five of seven days where six of them I have to work and three of them are spent at a convention. After work I'll come home, get cleaned up, and drive 40 miles to the Con. No idea how long I'll be there, but I'll be back tomorrow and Sunday as well...
I'm unexcited about the Con and would rather spend this afternoon and tomorrow home alone in bed.
At least my schedule reverts to normal after this.
Three weeks of a weird schedule have screwed with me. I lost September and can't keep the days of the week straight.
I know there's depression and anxiety in there and to add the hormonal bullshit of dealing with the perimenopause is taking its toll on me.
Did I mention sleep? I need so much more of it.
I recognize that I need to make changes in my life for the betterment of my health but who doesn't? Getting more sleep as I get older is apparently part of that but it's really hard. Part of why I don't get enough sleep is because I treasure my quiet time in the evenings and I'm incredibly selfish. In the moment I'd rather have an hour to watch a show or read. Of course the next morning I'm irritated and wish I could get another hour of sleep.
I keep telling myself to stop, to get the sleep, the books and shows will be there tomorrow.
But then I remember that by doing so I'm the one who is making changes to my lifestyle in order to accommodate someone else because... in all honesty... at least 2/3 of the time I'd get an extra 20-40 minutes of sleep every night if my husband would get his fucking CPAP for his sleep apnea and stop snoring loud enough to rattle the windows.
Or he would rattle the windows if we hadn't had them replaced last week.
That was a busy, crazy day but it's so nice having decent windows that open smoothly, lock reliably and cut out more noise from outside.
Windows aside... He would sleep a lot better as well and I wouldn't have to listen to him constantly bitching about how he didn't sleep and he's so tired.
I want to punch him every time he says he's tired.
This entire week has been bullshit and there's no point in laying it all out. Scheduling, dealing with humanity, traffic, parental drama... it's a story and-a-half and not very interesting.
Having to get up before the sun rose was not a pleasant experience.
I work a half day today, day five of seven days where six of them I have to work and three of them are spent at a convention. After work I'll come home, get cleaned up, and drive 40 miles to the Con. No idea how long I'll be there, but I'll be back tomorrow and Sunday as well...
I'm unexcited about the Con and would rather spend this afternoon and tomorrow home alone in bed.
At least my schedule reverts to normal after this.
Three weeks of a weird schedule have screwed with me. I lost September and can't keep the days of the week straight.
Friday, August 4, 2017
the horrible fucked up shitty ass no good week
This has been one hell of a week.
Wednesday I seriously considered calling in sick to work... I had forgotten that one of my co-workers is on vacation this week so it wouldn't have worked anyway, but the whole reason I went in there was because I was expecting my cat's ashes back that day. I'd been told a week before that he'd be brought in that day... and he wasn't. I was livid, and I was horrifically sad. I cried for hours. I made it through the day, including the last minute appointment that ensured I stayed until almost nine pm. The appointment included blood, urine, x-rays, fluid administration and fine needle aspirate of multiple lumps. We got all the results in today, conclusive. Lymphoma. He's dieing. He's a great dog. I'm sad.
Yesterday my friend died in my arms. My canine friend. Ten years old, Golden Retriever, cancer. Fuck cancer. His mom and dad stayed until he was sedated so I lay down next to him, wrapped my arms around him, put my head on his and told him how loved he was while he took his final breath. I stayed with him a few moments after and cried. I will miss him so much.
I was also inches away from a terrible collision moments after leaving work. Someone thought making a right hand turn in front of me would be a good idea, luckily I had just enough room, when I swerved to avoid him, I got the car back into the right hand lane and regained control instantly. Although for a split second I was afraid my car was gonna fall onto its side.
Today the window guys came in to get exact measurements so they can order the new windows we're finally getting. I'm looking forward to not having to wipe the condensation off the windows every day this winter. Hopefully we don't have a recurrence of the mold issue we had last winter. That was horrific, but easily dealt with and only surface mold from the moisture collecting in the drapes and running down the wall to the tops of the baseboards behind the bed. So nasty. Anyway... the window guys have informed us that we can't have the windows that I want, not my first choice, not my second choice, in any of the bedrooms. Because? Egress. There's some law, whether it's city, county, state or whatever that says I need a certain square footage when the window is open in order to facilitate egress. In other words: the window needs to be big enough for someone to get out of the house if there's a fire or other event.
So I'm not excited about the windows.
I don't fucking care anymore.
We need new windows, so we will get new windows.
It's like buying new scrubs for work, or school uniforms for the boy.
WoopDeeFuckingDoo.
I'm sad that I'm no longer excited about this thing I've wanted and waited for for a year-and-a-half.
I want my fucking cat.
I did get my new computer on Thursday, it's in a box under my bed.
I also got a raise on Wednesday, so that was pretty awesome.
Today I get the evening to myself after I put the boy to bed because the spousal unit is out. Time to myself is precious during summer vacation - I am grateful for this.
However... my plans of coming home from work tomorrow and spending the evening cleaning my desk and setting up my new computer and speaker system have been completely blown to hell because my mother-in-law wants to take us out to dinner at Sweet Tomatoes.
I wonder what fucking coupon she found.
I don't like her. I don't want to spend any time with her and having to go out to dinner with her sounds like the perfect way to end this horrible fucked up week.
At least I spent less at the grocery store than I anticipated. I buy a ham tomorrow and maybe I'll have enough money leftover to at least do one more fun thing with the boy before he starts school... which reminds me. I'll have to leave notes for my husband about school supplies and uniforms...
Tomorrow is another busy day and I'm not happy about it and I want this week to be over. Over-time aside, I'm sick to death of being at work and I want to take a week off, send my family to Siberia and sit around the house with the cats doing whatever the fuck I want for seven days.
Never happen.
Wednesday I seriously considered calling in sick to work... I had forgotten that one of my co-workers is on vacation this week so it wouldn't have worked anyway, but the whole reason I went in there was because I was expecting my cat's ashes back that day. I'd been told a week before that he'd be brought in that day... and he wasn't. I was livid, and I was horrifically sad. I cried for hours. I made it through the day, including the last minute appointment that ensured I stayed until almost nine pm. The appointment included blood, urine, x-rays, fluid administration and fine needle aspirate of multiple lumps. We got all the results in today, conclusive. Lymphoma. He's dieing. He's a great dog. I'm sad.
Yesterday my friend died in my arms. My canine friend. Ten years old, Golden Retriever, cancer. Fuck cancer. His mom and dad stayed until he was sedated so I lay down next to him, wrapped my arms around him, put my head on his and told him how loved he was while he took his final breath. I stayed with him a few moments after and cried. I will miss him so much.
I was also inches away from a terrible collision moments after leaving work. Someone thought making a right hand turn in front of me would be a good idea, luckily I had just enough room, when I swerved to avoid him, I got the car back into the right hand lane and regained control instantly. Although for a split second I was afraid my car was gonna fall onto its side.
Today the window guys came in to get exact measurements so they can order the new windows we're finally getting. I'm looking forward to not having to wipe the condensation off the windows every day this winter. Hopefully we don't have a recurrence of the mold issue we had last winter. That was horrific, but easily dealt with and only surface mold from the moisture collecting in the drapes and running down the wall to the tops of the baseboards behind the bed. So nasty. Anyway... the window guys have informed us that we can't have the windows that I want, not my first choice, not my second choice, in any of the bedrooms. Because? Egress. There's some law, whether it's city, county, state or whatever that says I need a certain square footage when the window is open in order to facilitate egress. In other words: the window needs to be big enough for someone to get out of the house if there's a fire or other event.
So I'm not excited about the windows.
I don't fucking care anymore.
We need new windows, so we will get new windows.
It's like buying new scrubs for work, or school uniforms for the boy.
WoopDeeFuckingDoo.
I'm sad that I'm no longer excited about this thing I've wanted and waited for for a year-and-a-half.
I want my fucking cat.
I did get my new computer on Thursday, it's in a box under my bed.
I also got a raise on Wednesday, so that was pretty awesome.
Today I get the evening to myself after I put the boy to bed because the spousal unit is out. Time to myself is precious during summer vacation - I am grateful for this.
However... my plans of coming home from work tomorrow and spending the evening cleaning my desk and setting up my new computer and speaker system have been completely blown to hell because my mother-in-law wants to take us out to dinner at Sweet Tomatoes.
I wonder what fucking coupon she found.
I don't like her. I don't want to spend any time with her and having to go out to dinner with her sounds like the perfect way to end this horrible fucked up week.
At least I spent less at the grocery store than I anticipated. I buy a ham tomorrow and maybe I'll have enough money leftover to at least do one more fun thing with the boy before he starts school... which reminds me. I'll have to leave notes for my husband about school supplies and uniforms...
Tomorrow is another busy day and I'm not happy about it and I want this week to be over. Over-time aside, I'm sick to death of being at work and I want to take a week off, send my family to Siberia and sit around the house with the cats doing whatever the fuck I want for seven days.
Never happen.
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