So, I am clearing off bookshelves and getting rid of some old books that I haven’t re-read in years. In my book of 100 Hair Raising Little Horror Stories I found a copy of my 2002 wedding invitation [divorce was final is 2012]. Why on earth would I have put that there? If my life were a novel that would have been called ‘foreshadowing’; today it is just a lot of funny with a slight tinge of sad that my subconcious was apparently screeching at me to get out a lot sooner than I thought–100 Hair Raising Little Horror Stories indeed.
Remember to listen to yourself.
Okay, back to the cleaning.
*kisses*

So, it turns out that the perfect storm of “too much” is as follows:

1.  Over scheduled myself at work and ended up doing about an 80 hour workweek.
2. That workweek ended with a training that felt rather flat when I gave it and turned out not to be what the client wanted. Yes, they should have given me more than “general safety stuff” as a guideline, but I still felt horribly shitty about it.
3. The damn power was out on the whole island for about 14 hours on Saturday effectively stealing my ability to get anything done. 
4. Sunday was not a fun day.
5. Upcoming week is more over scheduled than last week.

So all of that (of which I am aware can be looked at in a positive way – yes, I am blessed to have a job, I am incredibly lucky to live with electricity most of the time, I got to enjoy reading on Saturday, etc. I’m just whining) has led me to not wanting to get out of bed this morning.
Pillows – good!
Sheets – good!
Snuggly puppies – good!

Up and out? No good.

Snooze? Yes, please.
Wish me luck at the up and out part later please….

Good afternoon everyone,

today I need to share my frustration with the world of painful safety acronyms – you’ve seen them, those annoying safety signs that have tortured a word into a “meaningful” phrase….Gods all help me, these damn things irritate the crap out of me.

Here are two randomly pulled from the internet to get you into my mindset:

• How do you spell Safety? Safety Means Always Remember Teamwork

are you f’ing kidding me? I’m pretty sure you spelled safety wrong and *starts kicking things out of annoyance*

• Safety, a culture to live by: Communication Urge Leadership Teamwork Understanding Recognition Empowerment

just…..no. stop it. stop making words say shit that sort of means something kind of they way you want to say it. just….no.

No-one in existence has said, “damn, we were just one good slogan away from being safe”.  I have denied being in the business of Safety for years because of shit like this – how can you be a professional in a business that seems to excel at making themselves look ridiculous???

so anyway, here I am prepping crap for work and there is one of my loathed acronyms – SHARP. That’s right, Safety and Health Achievement Recognition Program (nope, didn’t torture themselves to make that word work…). Okay, things are going along normally until halfway through the report when I stumble upon a new initialism (aka first letter of each word that doesn’t actually spell anything), NCSP, which stands for National Construction SHARP Pilot. Realizing that they are using an acronym IN the initialism immediately broke my brain causing my vision to go a bit wonky and make my left eye twitch.

I’m making tea now.

Have a lovely day,

-H.

*blinks slowly*

ya know, for a monday, there is a ridiculous amount of work in my work today. Things to do, frustrations to fuss about, passive aggressive emails to send, and surprisingly – a completely inane posting at lunchtime.

I attempted to go on a movie date twice this holiday weekend, I say attempt because the sheer volume of people waiting to get tickets to the newest fast n furious (why? why is there so much fury when they get to go so fast?) movie caused us both to pause and say, “nope…to many people”. But we tried and that TOTALLY counts, right?

It was also the weekend of random weird shit, my favorite of which was a tree frog falling out of the tree and landing on the windshield of the car. I was full of the squee! and the wonder while the boyfriend was full of the holy shit, a fucking frog just fell on the car! At his decidedly squicked out face I proceeded to grab the poor startled baseball sized froggie and put him back into the trees.

ooh, my sandwich is here!

*kisses*

Dear Newton, I need an external force please.

When my mother visited she had a few ‘intervention-like’ conversations with me. One of the most memorable was the, “I’m worried because you have only two speeds: all go, and all stop”. It was memorable because all I could think was, “yep, that’s me”.

Lately though I have been more all stop, no go and I fear I am going to merge with the furniture.

Love ya,

H.

So, get ready for the rambling…I am going to a new doctor. One of those, how do you say, ‘real doctors’. Yes, yes…I currently have a doctor. I even presume he went to medical school and everything. Let’s just say that he is better at colds and boo-boos than he is at chonic disease management. This hasn’t really been a problem because *I* am pretty good at chronic disease management – but maybe I need some checks and balances rather than the, “wonder what this will do shot-gun approach” currently being used.
Ugh. The stress of going to a new doctor. *blink* I dislike it. It doesn’t help that the last ‘new’ doctor I ended up meeting looked at my medical records and suggested that we stop everything and ‘see what happens’. 
Well, lady….based on my reading–seizures and potential death if we don’t step down that one.  Extremely high blood sugars and organ/extremity damage if we stop those two. Hair loss, exhaustion, temperature intolerance, and weight gain if we stop that one. But sure, let’s give that a whirl since you aren’t ‘familiar’ with that medicine and are afraid of the internet and your medicine book from the 80s doesn’t have it in there. Okay, so yes that crazy lady was a textbook example of a BAD doctor almost on par to the one time I went to a therapist (back in the day trying to figure out what to do about my then marriage) who gave me the following advice, “you should have a baby, that’ll calm you down.”  I replied with much blinking to the woman, fixed her phone, and never went back.
So, you can see why going to this new doctor fills me with a small amount of….trepidation.  I have to print out my glucose/insulin logs, medication logs, bloodwork, medical history and hope this woman and I mesh well. Wish me luck!

Good day campers! In no uncertain terms and in no particular order, the following is a how-to guide to annoying me. (Note: There are many truly important, rage-inducing horrible things in this world; please know these are not those. This post should be entitled: “petty shit that pisses me off but that I should rise above and ignore but probably won’t because I can be a petty dick too.”)
To enrage a H please do one or more of the following:
1. Shush me.  When I’m “shushed” it fills me with a very specific “stabby in your facey” type of rage. Even if I was talking too loud and the shushing was meant to be helpful, still causes me deep-belly burning rage. 
2. Rolling your eyes at me.  Holy Hell, when there are eyes rolled at me, or worse, eyes rolled about me, it takes everything in me not to grab the head of the eye-roller and shake it until their eyes never stop rolling.  It really upsets me, not sure why. 
3. Ignore me while trapping me on the phone.  For the love of all that is precious to you, please,  if your talking to me on the phone, talk. to. me. If you’re done, let’s say bye.  Please don’t have a conversation with the person next to you or only half-pay attention while getting caught up on your texts, games, emails, whatever.
I’m pretty sure I’ve repeatedly whined about how much I loathe speaking on the phone.  Physically speaking to someone on the phone is agonizing to me.  There are hundreds of things I would rather be doing than talk on the phone, so if what has to be said is important enough to have me be on the phone–be on the fucking phone.  Now, I rather loathe my phone and don’t actually like being in contact 24/7;ecause of this  I have pissed off numerous friends and family because I am often too UNavailable. I recognize this is also a problem but this is my blog and I get to talk about shit that annoys me,  not the many ways I piss off others.  😆
That’s all I can think of at the moment, but check back often for new and improved ways of irritating the fuck out of me!
Love,
-H.

I am in a happyland of cum stupid at this exact moment and while I lay here in a happy tingly daze the love of my life just left to pick up pizza (no delivery on the island). (Yes, I *am* bragging.) I apologize that I haven’t written steamy sex fantasies for the past year or so, but get this, when I get to have really good sex whenever I want, I just don’t think about it so much.
Okay, that’s all I got–kisses y’all. 

I have so many words just a swirling around in my bean these days. None of them are particularly funny or clever, so please don’t get excited. Although, to be fair, I really only nail funny and clever 3% of the time at the best of times. The amount of silence happening in my office these days is incredibly loud but for once the echoing nothing has helped me get quite a bit of work done. Completing work is so much better than the spinning cyclone of non-accomplishment I occasionally get sucked into.

Let’s see, where to start….

so, I went to training in Illinois last week – I’m pretty sure I had some thoughts about things there, but the cold of walking a Herbert-dog in the icy tundra of death at 5AM every morning forced those thoughts right out of my head. You pretty much devolve right into the thoughts of, “too cold; am dying. go inside”. It looked like the poor wee doggie felt the same way and at one point mid-week I could tell he decided, ‘fuck it–I’m holding it.’ and only wanted out when he absolutely had to go, or saw a woodchuck, or a squirrel, or a bunny, which–bless his tropical puppy heart, he thinks bunnies are squirrels and runs to look up trees to see where they went. Never fails to crack me up.

Besides buying a pair of desperately needed pants, I had me some fancy “social butterfly” time.  I could lie to y’all and tell you I don’t know what happened….but I know what happened. See, it all starts out with, “my doctor is not a very good one” and expands into, “even a broken clock is right twice a day”. I’m on medications–quite frankly, I am on a butt-ton of medications, most of which are to treat diabetes. Some of them there medications help to cut down on, how should I say this…an overabundance of emotivity. Of course, that overabundance of emotivity (shut up, I know I made that word up) is where 98% of my creativity, people-fu (like kung-fu, but more about being charming to get my way (sociopathy?)), and general likability comes from. My doctor (bless. his. heart.) always forgets to look at my chart and he ended up giving me the extended release version instead of the instant release kind. In a roundabout way I ended up on a ‘half-dose’ of what I normally take. I just couldn’t be bothered to drag my ass to the doctors (again) to fix the prescription (again). So even though at this 1/2 dose I occasionally have (*shudder*) emotions, I think I like this version of me better. I am less ‘hide from everyone’ and more like the chatty version of me but without the constant over thinking and talking too fast and then freaking out later. Sort of a Me, light? Not sure. I have been able to think in blog posts…so, ya know, more writing for y’all. So, in the midst of me being all ERMAHGERD! we will be best friends forever; how have we never chatted before! to the people in my class that I swear to you I don’t know that I am doing it until someone who actually knows me points it out to me (thanks, V!) I had organized a dinner (shut up, I see your point!) where I ended up driving myself, three people, and a Herbert to a delicious steak-house where we met up with a few more people from class. Fast forward through some boring polite conversation and insert one of the BEST conversation starters I have ever heard emerge from one mouth of one of the coolest people I have ever met, she is all deadly sarcastic truth covered by a sweet southern charm.

Best Conversation Starter of All Time: “So, my friend is going to marry a jackass”.

Ladies and gentlemen, “So, my friend is going to marry a jackass” is the absolute best type of conversation to have in a “out with friendly colleagues” type situation. I say this because, in truth, no-one at the table knows this specific person but we all know a friend who is (unfortunately) with a jackass. (Hell, for a decade I *was* that friend with a jackass.) I will save you the many juicy and riveting details but the jackass was basically a leach who is with the friend so that the friend can support jackass. We, as a table, HATED leachy jackass. This led the table to a rousing discussion as to what makes a good relationship and whoo boy! it was a hell of a conversation. At one point the conversation got to infidelity. I sat quietly for a few moments and then said, “yep, that was me. I completely and utterly cheated on my ex-husband. Mostly because I felt unwanted because we rarely had sex. It was horrible and I am thankful every day that I am not still stuck in that place, but I was the “bad person” in that relationship”. That’s right, I can still stop a conversation dead in its tracks, if my life had a soundtrack, right then you would heard the record scratch to a halt. After a (blessedly short) awkward pause, the stunningly beautiful woman across from me shared that she is in a disturbingly similar relationship and it was the first time, besides herself, that she had heard another woman complain about feeling loved but unwanted. She is in therapy with him and the (horrible) therapist has basically concluded that it is her problem. The (horrible) therapist is wrong. I wanted to grab this smart and beautiful young woman by the shoulders and say GET OUT OF IT NOW. At the same time I also realize that every relationship is different and that maybe hers is salvageable. Because I am much better at the written word than the spoken, I shared my story with her by giving her the link to something I wrote in the past about how it felt to be loved but unwanted in my marriage. It is an insidious type of horror that is hard to explain, but isn’t anything I would wish on anyone. The conversation carried on and more details about leachy jackass surfaced. It as a really good night. The next day the beautiful young woman hugged me and thanked me for sharing what I had written and that she was so sorry I had to go through all of that but that it helped her a lot to read that she wasn’t alone. My need to own my mistakes and be true to who I want to be over-share may have helped someone else and that made me feel all sorts of warm and squishy inside (see???? *shudder* more feelings!!!).

Love y’all!