snot monster

So, a plague-rat has infected me and now I’m dying. To detail that a little better, my friend’s son gave me his cold and now I’ve turned into a disgusting snot-monster who can’t lay down without coughing. Even worse, beloved manly rough and tough husband appears to be coming down with it as well. While he may be the roughest and toughest manly man ever (shut up, he reads this! :P), when he is sick he devolves. When I’m sick I regress  into cave-dwelling-leave-me-alone-but-now-I’m-lonely level of annoying. The two of us sick at the same time = no bueno. He texted me from work asking if we can cancel the viewing of a potential rental house because he feels crappy too. 

Welp. We’re doomed.  I warned him that if we are both sick at the same time he better use the last of his strength to bring home provisions lest we drown in our own mucus. He agreed, here is the list:

1. soup. it’s what we live on now. I recommend getting plenty of it. chicken noodle and split pea sound great to me (uh. not together). 

2. crackers. because we live on them in soup. 

3. diet coke (we’re low)

4. more juice (because I love you and we will fight over the juice if it gets low). 

5. vanilla coke (cause you like it)

6. popsicles. because they help. obviously bomb pops are the best but any port in a storm. 

7. bread (because toast is nummy too)

8. for the love of my schnoz, tissues with lotion please. 

…and now you know what the next couple of days looks like in my life. 

Love ya!

-H. 

It will be a good day…

Or should I say, it will be a good day, dammit.
The Tuesday following a Monday off has always been a rough day; conversely, I have found most Friday the 13ths to be lovely. Anywhoodle, yesterday was a rough day for no real reason, just found it tough. So I woke up today determined for it to be good. I put on a new (kinda sexy) pair of underwear and a comfy pair of jeans to wear to the office. Unfortunately, once I arrived and was walking up the stairs to get to my office I learned that this particular new underwear is a bit too slippery for denim and my pants keep trying to fall (the fuck) off. As I unlocked the office door and stomped my way into the office, holding my bag with one hand and my pants with the other this thought ran through my head, “well, if there is ever going to be a zombie apocalypse it will happen on a day where I can’t keep my pants on.” This thought made me laugh out loud to myself and reminded me that I wanted to write an apocalypse story (book?) where during the first few chapters our rather well-endowed-in-the chestular-area-heroine spends a significant amount of time finding a bra. Why? Because at this point in my life attempting anything physical (running, fighting zombies, etc.) without adequate support sounds torturous and finding a decent bra during a zombie apocalypse seems like something a normal gal would have to do. Sure, she may have to save the world, but first things first – find a bra.

Okay, extremely random thought completed. Wish me luck with my escapee pants.

Love,
-H.

 

random update

Sweet baby cheesus I feel like I have been ridiculously busy lately. Regardless, I love writing so I am trying to give myself the time to do it. 

Okay, so….me. I’m doing okay. I’m flirting with this idea of being happy and let me tell ya, letting myself be happy is super scary (what? y’all know I’m broken) but I’m working on it. 

Got married, and for the record that was super scary too, but by golly it’s been kinda great. 

The only speedbumps in my idyllic highway of life (ha! at the moment. as y’all know there are ALWAYS going to be speedbumps) are my landlords and my boss.  Since I have only so much time to kvetch on here, I’ll save my boss stories for another day. 

 the landlords

okay, so I’m sure they are good people somewhere down deep. Like really really deep. (Or maybe not, who knows?) Their daughter is one of the best people I know, so they can’t be all bad (theoretically). 

About a year ago they offered to sell us the house. We excitedly agreed and decided it made more sense for us to buy the house as a married couple. They encouraged us to have the wedding at their house. We agreed. We arranged everything, paid for everything, and did our best to be conscientious guests. Two days before the wedding I fell down the concrete & tile stairs at their house during a rainstorm and hurt myself rather badly. Toughed it out, kept moving, got married and it was lovely (theoretically, can’t know for sure as the photographer (WHO APPARENTLY DOESN’T UNDERSTAND CLOUD STORAGE OPTIONS) broke his hard drive and lost all of our pictures. Yes, we have had great people look at it, and yes…it’s toast.) We wanted to spend our wedding night at home and we were also responsible for shuttling three of our beloved friends who flew down for the wedding. The morning after the wedding I was hurting badly, but as soon as the Advil kicked in we got up, picked up friends, and took the bows & ribbons down on our way to the house. When we arrived most of the cleanup was done (per their daughter, she and her boyfriend stacked up all the chairs before they left the night before), so we began packing all the stuff away. The next day my mother and I shared a plate of fish and chips and ended up with food poisoning. I felt horrible, she felt horrible and I was freaking exhausted. I did not take my mother to see the adult parade because [see above] food poisoning, exhaustion, and severe back pain. 

Well that was apparently the “last straw” for the landlord who decided to approach me to calmly discuss her feelings in a private chat….no wait, that would have been appropriate, what she decided to do was screech at me about how selfish and ungrateful of a person I am (note: only me, not my new husband) in front of a beach bar of people (including my mother) and how dare I not show up earlier to set up and tear down for my wedding and how dare I not take my mother to the adult parade and then she stomped off. I just sat there and cried. I haven’t heard from her since – except recently to tell us (via email) that we can no longer buy the house and to increase the rent by an additional $200 per month. Then, to add just a little more joy to it, another email came through changing it so we are now responsible to pay for grass cutting (which means our rent just increased by at least $300 per month) – she even was thoughtful enough to suggest it would be great exercise. And the latest bit of joy is that we need to lock in on this great deal for a year lease. 

The shittiest part of it all, is that due to these five beloved idiot rescue dogs (fingers crossed – may have a home for one of them) we are pretty much stuck accepting whatever fucked up “punishment” amendments they decide to force our way. 

Anywhoodle, other than that crap – life is good. If anyone knows of a dog-friendly small house with fenced in yard for rent here on STX, please let me know! ❤❤❤

-H. 

Random Work Funny

So, my boss’s boss wrote that we should get her all of our emergency contact information ASAP but for all she knew our offices were closed today anyway due to Hurricane Matthew and did we have an emergency back-up office (who the frak has emergency back up offices?!) prepared?

*blinks* ummmm? Dear nice lady in New York, um…..you know we aren’t in Jamaica or Haiti, right?

I created a helpful info-graphic to assist my boss in explaining to her boss a little bit about Caribbean geography.

matthew

Now, I don’t think she will actually send this handy little map, but it still makes me giggle.

Love,
H.

Ugh. feelz. 

So, I hate people right now. I know, hate is bad, getting sucked into a vortex of negatively isn’t healthy, blah blah blah. 

But I have been circling the emotional drain these days anyway, so what’s a little rage gonna do, make me sadder? meh. 

Made some positive steps, found a new doctor – a real one. *sigh* It is so damned stressful to go in and try to explain all of my numerous issues and meds without them either freaking out or not caring. Also, I inherited a wonderful *brave happy face* gene from my mother that causes me to immediately put other people at ease over my own comfort and well-being. In other words, when at doctor and I say something like, “I’ve been a little stressed lately.” actually means something like, “I’ve been afraid to leave my house and I have weekly panic attacks and I keep wishing I was dead.” 

ugh. 

I also went to a Yoga class on Sunday and that was wonderful! see, positive changes n’ stuff. 

it will all be okay, at least it should feel okay eventually, right? But it almost feels like now that everything in my life is going okay, now I’m feeling all the things and it is fucking with my ability to function.

I lost my shit a little bit last night in dog training class. I am working with Piper & Ziesa (when I can wake Ziesa up anyway); neither are naturals at obedience. In one class there is this beautiful dog that loves obedience and is just responsive and wonderful. That dog’s human said to her dog like, “as soon as you get happier with other dogs, you’ll be perfect!” 

…and it felt like my heart physically cracked in half. I had a perfect dog (okay, I know he was not perfect, but he was perfect for me and so responsive and trainable and made me so fucking happy) and the universe thought it a good idea to kill him in a stupid fucking slow, painful, and ridiculous way for no good fucking reason. It wasn’t fair (I know the world isn’t fair). It wasn’t kind (I know the world isn’t kind). It hurt me. It still hurts me. It has been 6 months, and it still fucking hurts me every fucking day. 

I want to be over it. I want to move forward. I want to be better. Hell, I would be happy to just fucking feel okay. 

Okay, feelings-time needs to be over now. 

*hugs*

H. 

what fresh hell?

​My brain is a special place, I recommend it as a fun vacation location, but ya probably don’t wanna live there: ouchie chemical burn due to unfortunate Nair attempt? – meh, no big deal. WAPA surge or bad wiring causes a very important electrical outlet to melt (the fuck) out of the wall? meh, we’ll figure it out. no need to freak out about not having water….it’s fine.  Wait, I lost one of the silicone earbud cover for my headphones? – *breaks down sobbing* this is NOT how I want to live! The end is nigh, etc. etc.


Seriously?! We need to talk.

Dear body, we need to talk: feet & calves? please stop cramping – it’s just rude. Stomach & esophagus? Maybe stop with the boiling acid – it’s not helpful. Lower right jaw? Dude, you can be all weird and throbby but I have had you x-ray’d and you are like the 3rd dental priority following replacement of the teeth & crowns I have crushed via clenching, so maybe calm your tits. Tits? Carry on being awesome.  Hands? Calm down the shooting pains and knuckle arthritis aching, I’m not even using you all that much, so why all the rage? Cervical spine – carry-on with your low to medium creepy nerve pain; hey, it’s better than average. Lastly, brain? Dude–calm. it. the. fuck. down. The constant zooming thoughts of crap I need to remember but never will is not all that helpful for sleeping.
In conclusion body, I’m hurting pretty badly this night and it’s making sleep impossible because I’ve been significantly shorting myself on pain management meds because I stupidly ordered refills too late and my doctor has moved away and the thought of explaining my vast quantity of medical crap to a new doctor sounds equally as horrifying as going back to the band-aid-give-me-whatever-I-ask-for doctor that I used to have. I just can’t, but yet I have to….regardless, body? for my part in this debacle – I’m sorry, but holy crap-could you please turn down the cacophony of ouchie?  
Kthanksluvyasotiredgonnadie.
-me