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Great Googly Moogly

I’m here, typing on one computer while listening to a webinar on my phone and watching the same webinar on yet a second computer while sitting on my bed wearing pajamas. The webinar itself is on the topic of workplace violence.  Today, my risk of workplace violence is “slim to none”.  In fact, based on what I am currently learning–any of y’all in Health Care are WAY more likely to encounter violence today than pretty much anyone else out there.  Be careful medical folk, cause dang.   Important learning point:  apparently if you are mentally ill AND addicted to drugs you are much more likely to attack people than if you are just mentally ill.  Okay, makes sense.  Important learning point:  Emergency departments are 4.2 times more likely to be attacked at work.  Nursing Homes are 2.6 more likely to be attacked and lastly Psychiatric Depts are 2.0 times more likely to be attacked at work.  This apparently increases stress factors–well, thank you very much; who’d a thunk it?

To continue the description of my day:  Herbert is sacked out in the closet he loves so much on the bed I put in there last night.  He looks extra comfy.  Life is on her baby mattress  and Teak remains on the cold hard floor (per his choice).  It just started raining outside and at this moment I think I win at life.  I’m learning, I’m comfortable, I feel safe, and the sound of rain on my roof is incredibly soothing.

I fought myself out of a panic attack earlier (for.the.win.) after reading a communication from my lawyer regarding my former house going into foreclosure.  I knew this was going to happen; I did.  But reading it was soooo extra whooshing dropping belly freaky.   A close friend of mine to whom I reached out for help sent me back a reminder that I will climb out of this with a shitty credit rating.  The reminder that I *will* climb out of this.  He also said my ex really did a good job at fucking me over.   His support felt good but my Service Dog in Training Herbert really gets the credit for me not completely losing my shit.  When I started crying he jumped up onto the bed and laid behind me providing physical contact.  Prior to last week I was training him to nibble my fingers to keep me focused into the here and now rather than getting lost into my own brain…alas, the other day when I was laughing really hard he triggered to try to make me feel better and the nibbling led to more hilariousness and then there was a big puppy pile of laughing and nibbling.  While funny at the time; I did further research into the training behavior behind this and it was recommended to me to not train him to use teeth because if he reacts to someone else in an emotional state the same way he could be perceived as aggressive.  Okay, this led to a new approach–physical contact.  After I replied to the attorney’s email and could take a quick break I turned around and focused on petting him.  And because of this I didn’t get to the lip tingling leading to face numbing leading to full on panic attack and vomiting.

(Gods help me–I swear I am not crazy crazy; just anxiety-riddled)

  I spent more than half of my day on saturday developing a budget.  This website (http://www.budgetsimple.com/) was intensely helpful.  So, once the budget was set up I had to work towards a checking account register.  I spent quite some time attempting to track down a missing 5 cents.  It is still annoying the crap out of me, I have no idea where it is. 😦

So, that’s about it in regards to the past few hours. Nothing too exciting, nothing too good–but hopefully, nothing too bad either.

*kisses*

-H.

…and it is morning

Well, get up, slacker.
Up.
Get. Up.

Okay, I know I am awake, but I am (lamely) sore due to actually walking places rather than drive (shut up! If you say it like it is a concious “healthy choice” rather than  “completely broke and don’t have a car” it sounds better).  So I want to lay here on my comfy comfy bed.

It is truly amazing how much more comfortable my bed becomes when I have to get up. If I think of my bed as a weird passive aggressive entity it makes this process more understandable.  For some reason my imaginary bed entity has a bad french accent a’ la’ peppy la pue, “huh, huh, huh…you want to get up?  Well, try *dis* level of comfy…isn’t it nice. You know you don’t want to leave me.  Oh, you can sleep in this day?  Well, are my spikes comfy now?  I didn’t sink so…”

Alright, maybe I need to get up now.  ^sigh^
Have a good day folks.
^kisses & hugs^

Dear world.

Im too tired to be alive.  And im 97% certain my exhaustion is inversly proportional to the amount of money i have; example- sobbed at my desk for a solid 15 minutes due to lack of money and then walked home and crashed for an hour.
The game of life, not my best work. 
Maybe my next round?

The saga of Mr. Herbert and delicious turkey.

Today I made a turkey. This involved thawing, rinsing, throwing into Dutch oven, and baking.  Really, making a turkey is way easier than I ever thought.  When I cut into it and was eating I dealt with the following watchful, hopeful eyes:

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“can’t you tell I’m starving to DEATH food lady?  Look at Doodle for goodness sake! He was abused before you got him, ya know? We need turkey to soldier on.”

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I finished my meal and began work on puppy-food.  Herbert, despite his obvious starvation, managed to drag himself into the kitchen to lay on the floor in the hope of a spare morsel of deliciousness. 

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The poor little bastard can barely hold his head up. 

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The rice and turkey are cooking for you little Herbert. Stay strong!