My Pee is Clear

Gah, it's only Wednesday. I've been a day ahead since Monday because Monday felt like two days. Pure insanity. Weee. It's gotten better I suppose, but tomorrow's April Fool's. What dirty tricks will the universe play on me tomorrow?! Noooooooo.....

Ah well. It fits right in with the rest of the week. Monday was nuts, but I still worked out afterward. It was a good work out too. Old school. The old stuff I used to do was coming more easily. Hell yeah. Then yesterday after work I had the joy of driving all the way to post for a key caller training for two hours in a building with no air movement at 80 degrees. The heat combined with the fact that I've already been a key caller for a year or more and was still having to work with a partner to answer questions like "What does being a key caller mean?" almost made me lose my mind. The good part was that Joe's commander was there. Since my grandpa died on 3/22, I've been working with the FRG/Company to send a message to Joe because we allegedly don't utilize the Red Cross because we're more "specialized," though that was disputed last night. So anyway, the commander called me last Thursday 3/25 to let me know the message had been sent and that they were waiting on confirmation from the training brigade that Joe got the message. Then I heard nothing until yesterday when I got a letter from Joe dated Friday 3/26, and in it he asked "How's your grandpa?" The math is this: Joe can write me a letter from the middle of the woods and have it get to me in four days, but in over a week of trying to get a message to him, I can't. And I told his commander this and that I was just going to write him a letter myself and let him know. With all that, he told me he'd have an answer for me today and call me. He never did. And that's fine. We knew Pop was going to die, but if this were an Oma situation all over again, I would have gone to the woods and found Joe myself. HE'S IN FT. BENNING FOR GOD'S SAKE. There's just no fucking excuse for this shit, but I've been nice because my husband is a fucking 2.5 year running Spec 4 and I can't raise hell the way I'd like to. I really had faith in these people and believed them when they told me we were important.

The good stuff is that my husband, after doing all kinds of crazy shit in the preceding days including a 16 mile ruck march in which he fell asleep while rucking due to being so sleep deprived, he still managed to write me a letter and ask how I'm doing. And he told me he misses me and that this was the hardest time he's had leaving me so far. How he wants to quit to be home with me but won't quit because I'm also his inspiration to keep going. And how he's thinking good thoughts for me and asking I do the same for him. (Enter: happy tears.) Damn, I have a good husband. When I saw that letter in the mailbox, I squealed and was right back in Madison, MS in 2007 racing to my aunt's mailbox to see if there was anything from Joe while he was at Basic. If there was, I'd then go hide in a quiet place where I could focus on what I was reading and hang on every word without distraction. Better than Christmas. Of course though I'll now be willing a letter to be in the box every day from now until his graduation. :-) I'm okay with that.

So that brings us to today. I worked of course. Nothing too crazy. And then I worked out afterward. I feel good. My goal is 3 days a week, so I'll hit it this Friday again. Since I work the weekend and can't leave the pups locked up forever, we'll have our own workout walking in the neighborhood. That reminds me some dude walking his 80 lb boxer-pit mix thing saw Dex today and was like "OH MY GOD HE'S BIG. WHAT IS HE LIKE 90-100LBS?" I told him I didn't know, but in my head I was thinking that Dex was probably still only in the 70's (lbs) - maybe 80. The bottom line is that if some dude with a big dog himself thinks I have an even bigger dog, then I'm safe. Go Dex.

What Weekend?

It was here, and just as quickly it was gone. Some stuff got done, and some other stuff didn't get done. Just as I typed that I remembered something that didn't get done. Hell. Still, both pups got bathed, the inside of the house got cleaned, and the grass got mowed. I'm but one woman.

Here's the noteworthy stuff from the weekend:

1. Finally fell while mowing the lawn. Damn tiny steep part of the yard. I usually wear cleats when I do it, but got lazy. Thankfully no harm, and I put the cleats on immediately after.

2. It was nice enough to sit outside and drink. So I did.

3. Dex pissed on two people at the dog park. The original second person was avoided due to my ability to sprint and grab Dex's tail. I was not fast enough the next time, though my running and screaming should have given the victim a forewarning. Shit.

4. I bought Naturalizer shoes and am now the oldest 26 year old ever.

5. Lu finally went racist on us and exhibited her black power as she became aggressive and tried to attack a white german shepherd at the dog park. Lu only weighs 37 pounds. Everyone was staring.

6. I haven't talked to Joe in a week straight. I knew it would be like this, but it's killer to have NO contact at all. We talked more during his deployment than we do now. I really don't know when or if I'll talk to him before this phase is supposedly up in another two weeks. Wait, it's coming back to me. I thought we'd never gone this long without contact before, but that's not true. Basic Training. I am now having PTSD over the anxiety I experienced at that time.

7. Lucky seven. What shall it be? What could it be? How about the fact that I ran errands in Joe's car today with the whole thing shaking so badly that my hands about bounced off the wheel, but as good luck would have it, I survived. Here's to sometime after July having a 2006 Honda Pilot!! Woohoo.

Fuck, Shit, Bitch

Man, I am boiling over with anger today. I will have to make it to the gym.

Yesterday I went grocery shopping right after work and came home exhausted to find Lu sitting awkwardly in her cage trying not to sit in her own bodily fluids. I could identify some of it as urine and the other I still can't name. Of course the clean up was not what I had in mind as soon as I walked in the door while I left the groceries to sit in the car. Outside I watched her try to pee several times in a row - hello, UTI?! She also had problems going #2. What the hell? So she pissed in the house a couple more times last night, which is not the norm. Seems to be doing better today - #2 is completely remedied but the verdict is still out on #1, though there were no accidents in the night. I just hope she's not quitting going altogether. The vet told me to keep watching her and call them back if she acts weird, but they close in 35 minutes. Since then the dogs are in and out and getting dirty footprints in the house, crying outside, and having their way with my outside doormats. When I put Lu in her cage and she started to cry, I lost my shit.

I know Joe is in the woods, starving, freezing, and being exerted within an inch of his life with PT tests, 16 mile ruck marches, and whatever the hell else they're trying to kill him with out there. But I am pissed off today. I am supportive most every other day. But today I am tired of there never being any consistent amount of time at home. He's never gone for a long time and then home for a long time. He's always fucking in and out. Just when we get used to him being home again, he's gone, and vice versa. AND DAMN YOU JOE FOR NEVER CHANGING THE OIL IN THE LAWN MOWER, NOT BUYING ME A HEDGE TRIMMER OR A LEAF BLOWER (BECAUSE HE WANTED TO BE PRESENT TO PICK IT OUT), NOT BEING HERE TO CLEAN THE HOUSE, TAKE CARE OF THESE DAMN DOGS, AND NEVER GETTING THE FUCKING OIL CHANGED IN YOUR CAR THAT I ASKED YOU TO TAKE CARE OF FOR MONTHS AND MONTHS AND MONTHS, AND NOT TAKING YOUR CAR TO THE MECHANIC ON POST WHERE YOU COULD HAVE EASILY DROPPED IT OFF - FIVE MINUTES FROM YOUR WORK - AND HAD ONE OF YOUR MANY BATTLE BUDDIES PICK YOU UP WHILE THE DAMN WINDOWS GOT FIXED AND WHATEVER THE MUFFLER-ISH ISSUE WAS CHECKED OUT, AND NOT FIXING THE DAMN BATH TUB SO THE DRAIN ACTUALLY STOPS WHEN I TRY TO FILL IT UP INSTEAD OF ME HAVING TO POUND ON IT FOR SEVERAL MINUTES UNTIL IT SEALS. WHAT ELSE. THIS IS CATHARTIC. SORTING OUT YOUR CRAP STILL IN BOXES THAT I SET ASIDE ALMOST TWO YEARS AGO FOR YOU TO TAKE CARE OF. YEAH. I think that's a lot of it for now. I feel better. Saved! is on. Time to suck it up and google how to change the mower oil.

That is all.

My Tush

Who did squats (albeit without weight other than my body), lunges, and the dead lift today? This chick (points at self with thumbs). I probably won't be able to walk tomorrow. Just trying to engage that elusive muscle memory from 2008. The bastard.

So yeah, I hit the gym after work today. It may be the only thing that keeps me at my job long enough to complete paying off my student loans. Dear Lord I want to quit. I just still want the income afterward. Bah. As for my student loans, I'm nearing the finish line. Yes, as the right leg of my dress pants (that I've had for over five years) came unraveled today and had to be hemmed with scotch tape, and then a hole in my shoe was discovered, I still knew in my heart that my student loan balance right now is $11,995...of course the pay off amount is $12,014. (Note: I really do have money for new pants and shoes. I'm just too indecisive for a lot of shopping these days.) Back to the balance - hooray!! The only downside is that as soon as that shit's paid off, one or both of our 13 year old vehicles will need replacing. I guess it just never ends. And not to be an asshole, but Joe is halfway through his contract AND NEVER BEEN PROMOTED. DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT. I know money isn't everything, but he will make more in the civilian world doing what he does now, and I can be a stay at home Katie or maybe even be the mother of someone other than Lu or Dex. In my word vomit while Joe was home this weekend, I did manage to ask him if he wants to continue to do what he does in the Army as that of a civilian (because he does NOT want to stay in the Army), to which he said yes. I wasn't sure he would be happy enough and would want to do something different altogether, but he said he would like to continue, as he feels there is a greater good in what he does. I do too, and selfishly I was fucking relieved. I do not want to support us as a social worker. God in Heaven. I mean if anything ever happens, I'll have an education to fall back on, but at this point, I'm very nearly ready to be provided for entirely. Shoot, maybe in that time I'll actually get a little wiser and figure out what I'd really ENJOY doing with my life. Huh.

I also want to add that for some time, the thought of retirement has scared the shit out of me. All I can think is fixed income - how will we survive? It's a long ways away, but it's something to prepare for now. Then I think...maybe I should keep working. Uggh. Then I go to work. Barf. This fear was confirmed when I went to Pennsylvania. My grandpa was an accountant, but then after he started forgetting shit (and their stocks tanked), the finances started to go nutty. While I was there I helped review their finances and consolidated a bunch of credit cards. I mean there she is almost 80 with fucking debt and a fixed income. Scary. Of course, I will make damn sure that doesn't happen to us. It still scares me. I'm going to be one of those old ladies tucking shit away in the mattress. Hell yeah. SUZE ORMAN, HOW AM I DOING???

PUPPIES!! GOBBLES!!

Lulu!!

Dexy!!

And this pretty much sums up Lu - she's always present, usually in the background observing with that expressionless face. The angle of the sun unfortunately doesn't give a clear shot, but you get it.


The pups and I had a small photo shoot after I got home from work and the gym. :-)

Not a lot to really say. Work was slightly stupid, but I made it through. I got off a little late, and though I hesitated, I still went to the gym and had a decent work out. I kept it to just 45 minutes so I could hurry up and get home to the dogs who hadn't been out in 9 hours. Instead of doing it at the gym, I took a walk with the dogs....which is getting better, more coordinated. I even came home and made a big salad. Holy shit. It was reminiscent of my dedicated-to-health days back in Missouri. Of course at work one of the doctors brought me back a massive brownie from some doctor luncheon today, and I scarfed it all down. On the positive, I did that early in the day and not right before bed. Shit, I was just impressed the doctor brought me the brownie. I was pretty sure he thought I was stupid, and he's not the type to do nice things for dumb people. Hell yeah.

So I miss my husband, though no news is good news. He had his latest PT test yesterday morning at 0330, and since he hasn't shown up back here, I assume he passed. He better damn graduate on time because I'm already thinking of stuff to do together this summer. Maybe Savannah? Or hell anywhere. Of course there's still the possibility that he'll deploy later this year...

PUPPIES!!

Monday, Monday. Can't Trust That Day

Well, I figured as much would happen, but I was a complete moron at work today. Being gone for a week at my place of business causes one's mind to be in denial about ever having to go back. Also, survival mode takes over and wipes the memory clear of anything ever learned on the job. Of course, when I got there five of the six brief observation beds were full of patients I needed to see, and there was a new patient waiting for her intake to be completed. Luckily, she shit herself and needed a shower, which bought me a little time. Just when I was going to begin seeing the brief obs. patients, I came upon an e-mail saying I needed to go to HR. Yep, I finally had my first random piss test. The irony was that amidst my trip to PA I mentioned wondering what taking Ativan would feel like, if anything other than sleepy and lethargic. Shit, my grandma started to get up and get me one, to which I politely declined. Ativan is a benzo, and if I'd accepted, I'd be SOL for my UDS. Ah, it's good to be a responsible adult with a brain.

So anyway. I sat in the lab office, drank a little water and read over a travel magazine before I was ready to go. (If you can't give enough when you go, they will make you sit for up to 3 hours until you can give enough all in one urination.) Damn right I gave enough the first try. I then headed back to my office, realized I had a VM on my cell. Sure enough my grandpa had died. Now, obviously I knew this was coming, so I wasn't wrecked or anything - Pop is in a better place and not suffering anymore. I just wasn't sure what to do. Was I supposed to leave work and go make calls to the family? Deciding there was no reason to tell my boss because he doesn't care anyway, I told the psychiatrist I was working with today...because I felt it would be weird to not say anything. You know, later down the road when someone's all like "Dude, you were really slow seeing patients that Monday." And I'm all "Yeah, my grandpa had died that morning." Followed by awkward silence... The psychiatrist, perhaps being what he is, showed more empathy in one exchange than my boss ever has on the matter. I felt better, realized there was nothing else really to do since I'm not going to go back up for the viewing and funeral, and proceeded to see patients, albeit perhaps not in the best frame of mind. Regarding not going to the funeral, I feel like I already said my goodbye and made peace with things. My grandmother, however, will probably perceive my absence as a slight against the family and write me a nasty letter. but receiving such letter from my grandmother is like a rite of passage, so no big deal. However, I think in lieu of that she did the whole not speaking to me for a year when I was twelve. It's possible I could get both in a lifetime. We'll see.

Most of my patients were chill today. Except one. Suicidal my ass. Suicidal people are not concerned with other patients coughing near them or the possibility of getting lice from a hospital. Damn personality disorders. Luckily, I was very flat today, picked her story apart - pointing out the discrepancies, and did not give her the attention she wanted. However, since she maintained that she was suicidal, she got a special trip to the stabilization unit. They're gonna be reeeeeeal concerned about germs and lice up there what with monitoring a few people who are actively psychotic and others who really do want to kill themselves. Oh yes. Cured!

I then came home to my puppies and had a decent evening. 'Night.

Where Am I? And Whose Dogs Are These?

I can't believe a whole week has gone by. The last time I was at work was last Monday, and since then, I have been to Pennsylvania and back, picked up Joey, spent a little more than a day with him, and just this morning dropped him back off. This morning feels like it was a couple days ago. He had to be there a little before 8AM, after which I immediately came home, laid on the couch and ate M&Ms until I passed out. I didn't need the candy, but I did need the sleep.

The trip to Pennsylvania was a success; we made it up there before Pop died. In fact, he's still alive, though now has a fever, is dehydrated, and vomiting. We didn't think he'd last the weekend, and we're not really sure why he's hanging on unless it's to see if his wife (indeed my grandmother) will offer any apology to him for being so mean over the years. We'll see. It was weird being up there. I don't think I'd been in almost 10 years, and as I've previously written, I hadn't seen Pop for five. He was barely conscious, though I'm told he knew we were there. He remains on oxygen and only opens his eyes occasionally. Additionally, his speech is almost unintelligible, and he doesn't talk a whole lot. But he apparently talked a lot more when Ari and I were there. As we were telling him good bye the night before we flew out, I could clearly hear him say "I'm just at that point." I really wonder how he feels about his life and if he has any regrets. Not to air out the family laundry, but my grandma has been a real bitch to him and most all of the rest of us. However, he rarely if ever stood up for himself or anyone with whom she was having an issue. Stockholm's Syndrome-ish. With that and the fact that we always lived so far away from them, I don't have a whole lot of memories with him as a kid, though there was usually a yearly visit. I wonder if I've blocked some of them out because of my grandmother? Hmm. I wish I could have talked with him more now that I'm older and maybe learned more about him. There's so much more to the story than just this, and while I have no problem writing about it, I won't out of respect for the rest of the family. Let's just say that the information I learned while I was up there blew my hair back, and it still won't lay down.

And then there's Joey. I went all the way to PA and forgot my damn phone charger. It didn't matter since I had no reception up on the mountain. Instead, I changed my voicemail from a land line to include a number where I could be reached. Wouldn't you know a couple hours afterward (and after I'd gone to bed), Joe called and left a message on my family's answering machine. Poor guy - he didn't really know what was going on. Luckily I got to talk to him the next day. I had not heard from him in over a week in GA, but the minute I left, he called. Luckily, I got home in time on Friday to pick him up for a brief weekend at home together. He'd completed the three week introduction to his big training on Friday in which he'd only been getting a couple hours of sleep for a week or two straight. He was basically narcoleptic until Saturday morning, but I couldn't blame him. Apparently at one point he was out in the woods sleeping on the wet ground with temps in the 30's amidst something called a "manferno." He managed to be the middle spoon between two dudes as they slept "nut to butt." It was all they could do to keep warm. I probably didn't show it as much as I should have this weekend, but I'm really proud for all he accomplished in his initial phase of this training. There was just too much going on yesterday. Slowly but surely I briefed him on the PA trip, and he told me more about his training. I cleaned out stuff to take to Goodwill, while he did his 487th lay out of all his things he needed to take with him. We even managed to see a couple innings of our neighbor boy's little league game, and then bought more stuff for Joe's packing list before coming home and organizing it all. We ended the night watching The Hurt Locker with Joe's commentary on how much of it was far-fetched, and then a haircut. Joe is still practically bald. Ah, training standards.

So here I am back home alone in my delicious king-sized bed. I spent three glorious nights in PA sharing a double bed with my sister. I'm pretty sure she hated it as much as I did as we both clung on to the tiny space on our respective sides, careful to not fall off the edge of the bed, nor to accidentally touch in the middle. Eek. Then I spent two nights sharing this king with Joe who of course was sick from the field. I spent the first night listening to him gurgle and wheeze. The second was better, and tonight as little Ralph once said similarly (though not exact), I'm going to be a viking. Good night.

Hypomanic

Okay, I'm about to vomit words out all over this page so get ready.

I have to go to work tomorrow, which is probably the worst idea ever. My head is not going to be there. I have a million things bouncing around. I drop Lu off at the vet for her dip in the morning before work. Then when she's ready I need to be able to leave work and pick her up and then go get Dex and their food and shot records and a cash payment and drop them off at the kennel. Then go back to work and finish the day. I have to go because the full time girl has the day off. After work I need to find something to eat and finish laundry and cleaning up the house. Then I need to pack and get ready to leave on Tuesday. The house needs to be cleaned because of Joe coming home this weekend, and in the event I don't make it back, he'll need a clean space to relax in before he returns to the woods. I'll go ahead and check in on my flights and print my boarding passes and then have everything ready to go. I also need to see if I have the sledding video from when we were kids up in PA. Pop would like that...if he can see the TV or know what's going on. I'll get to that in a sec. So pack, clean, run the dishwasher. Try not to miss my puppies (it's very weird when I'm here alone now). I must remember to pack my white noise machine, or I'll be a raging bitch and most likely Ari and I will get into a fist fight since we're sharing a bed there. So at some point tomorrow night I'll sleep. In the morning I think I'm going to utilize the shuttle service that runs between here and ATL. When I tally up gas plus parking plus potential AM rush hour traffic (in Atlanta) on Tues, I figure it's best just to ride in the van. Joe always does when he goes on trips. I will too. Speaking of him, my friend Sarah already has his keys in case I don't get back in time and will give him a ride home from post. If I nor Joe make it home, Sarah will pick up my pups Friday and take them home. Speaking of Friday, after everything I'm going to encounter in PA, I'm supposed to get back and work the next day. I've decided that tomorrow I'm going to tell my boss that I can't. And really it's a terrible idea to work. I'm going to be a wreck, and I know it. That's if I'm even back. I could end up staying for a funeral. I was told tonight that Pops is waiting for Arielle and I to get there before he dies. He's on oxygen all the time and has trouble with words. It got this bad in less than 2 weeks!! Shit! So anyway. This is some tough stuff, and even if I do make it home by the weekend, don't I need that time to be with my husband especially in light of everything that's been going on and the fact that I haven't been able to talk to him about it???!!! I believe these circumstances are extenuating. Am I wrong here? Am I wrong to tell my boss that there is too much going on and I will have a break down. Rumor mill be damned I am going to heal with my husband. You know they'll think I'm using my grandpa as an excuse. People are always talking. Bah.

Deep breath. If anything is jacked up in this blog it's because 1) I'm manic and 2) I cut my right index finger trimming tree branches today (because that's what manic people do).

C'mon Saturday Motivation

First, guys, thank you all for your supportive comments. I appreciate them very much. But until yesterday morning, I was all "I'm okay - I got this." It turns out running around in some sort of manic episode for two days straight catches up with you...at work...and you cry...nay, sob (at least the silent kind)...after something minimal makes you feel stupid. A lot of it seems to stem from my inability to talk to Joe. When Oma died Joe was in basic, and I could barely talk to him. It was horrible, and I so wish he'd have been there for me. The training he's doing now is so hard, though, and he's in the field for two weeks straight. I haven't talked to him since last Sunday, but I have let my FRG leader know what's going on and that I am actually leaving for Pennsylvania (Tues-Fri), which has since been forwarded on to Joe's commander. I don't want them to seek Joe out in the woods to tell him what's going on. He really doesn't need to know - he never had the chance to even meet this set of grandparents anyway. Of course it would probably be good for me to be able to talk to him about it, but it won't help him any. I sure don't want him to be distracted and fail any part of what he's doing and have to be recycled...and then stay gone longer. God no. So, I already have my flight booked, dogs reserved for the kennel, Lu scheduled to get her dip on Monday before she goes to the kennel for the first time ever, a novel written to the FRG with my itinerary and instructions should Joe need to know where I am, a good friend and fellow Army wife here being my back up, and my work informed of what's going on.

Ah, work. I have twice written my boss in an e-mail to inform him of my familial situation, and twice he has responded back with no mention of what's going on and instead with instructions of which unit I will be on when I return and where we need coverage. I even let him know my grandpa is probably going to die soon and that I'll have to leave again for a funeral. NOTHING. No support from work. This is also on the heels of me trying to get off for part of the coming weekend so that I can see my husband for the only time I'll have with him in a several week span until his next small break. I e-mailed my fill-in person asking to switch days, as well as my boss about that, annnnnnd NOTHING. So, all this other stuff going on, and then I go to work where I talk to people all day long about why they want to kill themselves or how much crack they used last night or what the voices are telling them to do, and I get no support for my personal stressors. It's just not a good fit, and I'm actively looking for the door. The lack of income will be an adjustment, but I have wondered how much longer it'll take before I start becoming a shell of a person just for the money. Well. You disrespect me and my family as a priority, then I'm done. No amount of money is worth that.

Today I'm trying to get some stuff done - there's the hazardous waste drop off today for paint, electronics, etc. I'm going to load my car up shortly and go for it. It always feels awesome to get rid of stuff, especially empty paint cans and broken computer parts that I don't know what to do with. I also need to do laundry and clean up the house. I think a friend is coming over later this evening for dinner, so that will be nice, although I need to figure out what will be served. In the meantime, I'm going to try not to kill my dogs who have already vomited in the house, jumped all over everything as they barked and growled and played with each other INSIDE, and cried loudly when I put them OUTSIDE. It's not even 11AM, and I've already considered having a glass of wine. Nerves shot? Oh hell yes.

Oh Damn

I guess I need to just stop checking my e-mail before bed altogether. If it isn't work, it's family. I got an e-mail tonight that pretty well outlined that my grandpa will be dying pretty damn quick. He was put on hospice last week and as of today is now bed-ridden. I guess all this stuff is obvious, and perhaps it is to those who have been informed of the gritty details from the beginning. But I haven't been. Or maybe I was in denial. I dunno. When I talk to my grandpa on the phone, he still knows who I am. That was good enough for me. I didn't know he was wearing adult diapers, falling daily and unable to get up (I mean I knew of some spills), and generally just going damn downhill at lightning speed until the last week or so. I feel sad that his life is ending, and I wonder if he was ever really happy. I feel guilty that I haven't seen him in five years. And I feel panicked that I need to hurry up and get to Glasgow, PA to try to say bye. And now it's almost midnight. I'm not asleep, and instead I feel pukey. I need to begin processing this stuff earlier than 9 or 10PM. DAMN IT.

Of course I called Arielle and started to work on flight planning with her. We may have to go next week. Not sure yet. Neither of our husbands can go, so it'll just be us. Hell, I may go and come back before Joe knows anything about it. It's nuts. The dark irony is that I talked to Joe before he started this training and asked him about his own grandfather's declining health due to Alzheimer's and the possibility that he could die while Joe is gone. I guess I asked about the wrong grandparent. There's always been something mildly comforting knowing that I had two dysfunctional, slightly psychotic grandparents up in Pennsylvania. They're a constant - always there - thinking good (or bad) thoughts toward the rest of us. But that's about to change. And it makes me sad.

Ugh, Work

New Rule - no checking work e-mail just before bed. I just read that I'll be tasked out tomorrow, which is to be expected since we're on diversion (no new admits). Instead, I'll be on one of the forensic units working on annual assessments. Now, the forensic patients - some at least - can be there for years and years and years and have really long assessments. So. For me to step in and work with the patient for just a little bit in one day doesn't set me up to do my best work. Also, most of these assessments are already typed up in a database and would just need updating (I think), but do I have access to that database? NOOOOOOOOOO. I shouldn't complain since I'm paid by the hour, but I'd rather not spend my time re-inventing the wheel. Gah. Kinda lowers morale. And even hourly workers need that.

Work was alright today. I worked on placement referrals, which shouldn't have taken that long, despite one being 78 pages long, but everything I needed seemed to be in a different place. Of course in going from room to room on the stabilization unit, EVERY DOOR IS LOCKED. NOTHING IS EASY. But I got it done. No big deal.

After work, I tried to keep off my ass. I hit balls to the dogs out back with my racquet, washed my car (I could literally see gray water dripping off it and running down the driveway), and walked the dogs - both of them - at the same time. If you exercise while your blood pressure is rising and stress is inflaming your whole body, what's the point? But I did it, and tomorrow I am going to go to the gym. I even shaved my legs tonight. Gotta have all my shit ready tomorrow before work because if I have to come home between work and gym it's all over. Ah hell.

Every Once in a While the Planets Align

It turned out to be a really good weekend. I was scheduled both to work and have my husband home. Whammy. However, with the hospital full and not currently taking new patients, I was able to only go in for just a short bit on Friday evening and Saturday afternoon to complete some assessments on existing patients. Also, Joe got released Friday night instead of Saturday morning, so I got a whole extra night. Holy hell. It was beautiful.

Of course it ended too soon, and though I'll see him again in a couple weeks, it's hard to know he's so close but won't "live" at home again for more than a weekend until at least late May. So a little sad after dropping him off (and getting off post), I gave my sister a call. We had a good chat about a few things, and then I hung up and went over to my neighbor's house with the pups. We visited for a bit, and then I ended up playing wiffle ball with their kids and another neighbor kid. After a bit, I looked around and realized I was the only "adult" out there. I know I regressed a bit and even stood my ground when the kids were going to make me bat last when my rightful turn was second. I may be 26, and 14 years older than the oldest kid out there, but dang it, it was my turn!! It was great, though, and I know they had a good time. Hell, not one of them could pitch worth a damn, so they really enjoyed me pitching to all of them. They also said things like "Maybe we can do this again" and "If Joe is back soon maybe he could play also." It flashed me back to being a kid and having the best time when adults would let go and "play" a little too. Maybe that's how they saw me. :-)

Wiffle ball was pretty great for me too. It was good to just run around and move my body for a bit, laughing and having fun. The goodness in moving around, and the fact that I can hardly fit into some of my pants, is giving me that "ready" feeling to commit to a new workout regimen. It's time. I gotta do something. I write all this stuff about becoming debt free and my accountability with finances. However, as Suze Orman says, "If you're not healthy, you're not wealthy." And truthfully, I have just not given a shit recently. I've known I should workout and needed to workout, but I just didn't care. I like that feeling of energy, though, and hopefully that memory will keep me going. Hopefully muscle memory will kick in too. I have a goal to be living healthier by the time Joe graduates from his training. There will be a "pinning" of sorts, and I would love to show a little respect for him in all that he's doing by taking care of myself in the meantime and looking damn good when I put his earnings on his uniform in front of a huge crowd! Of course, that is secondary to respecting myself enough to be healthy.

With that, let the Oscar's hurry up and end and Lu stop damn snoring so I can go to sleep. I have gotten up twice now from the bed and physically moved her around, and she still is snoring like a 400lb man with sleep apnea. Geez.

Musical Dogs and Revolving Doors

What do you want first? Good news or bad news? Since most people prefer the bad news first, I'll give that to you: I found out last night that my grandpa has been put on hospice and given a life expectancy of six months. Yeah. BAM. My grandpa was diagnosed with Alzheimer's in the last...year or two? I'm not sure, as I've been in denial. He has suffered much emotional abuse from my grandma in the last fifty years, that I kind of thought he was just acting out to get back at her. No, really. But I guess it's worse than that. I really don't know all the details - supposed to get a phone call this weekend. It's weird not having Joe around to talk to about this. He's not allowed any calls, but he'll be home this weekend, so I'll tell him then. Might start checking flights for the summer too. In the meantime, I've had my sister, and I love her. I mean it's not like I'm particularly close to my grandfather, and I haven't seen him in about five years. But he's still my family. And death is hard. There's actually a lot more I could write about this, but it wouldn't be appropriate.

The good stuff? Well, I survived another week of work. Although I do work this weekend. Bah. Also, as previously mentioned, Joe will be home this weekend, so woohoo!! Since the hospital is full right now, and we're not taking anymore patients, I may be able to just be "on call" for part of the weekend and see my husband for a minute before he disappears again. One good thing about him being in training for so long is that he won't be spending any money, and I can live cheaply. Yes, there's my lead-in to student loan land. Another payment hath been made, with one more pending for the end of the month. My current balance is $13,961.25. YES. I was analyzing my payment history (as usual) tonight to realize that since I began making my aggressive payments on 10/9/09 when my balance due was somewhere between $28,500 and $28,999, I (we) have paid $15,500. SO SO GOOD!!! I'm so obsessed with getting all this paid off, and it feels so good. Get inspired people!! However, as we get closer to having crap paid off, my mind is beginning to wander toward that newer vehicle or appliances or a whatever else. Today, I caught myself scrubbing the rust off of the lid and bleach compartment of my washing machine thinking about a front loader. Still, the saver in me is proud. My washer and dryer was purchased from craigslist for my birthday in 2006 for $300. I paid half and my dad paid the other half. Three and a half years later, the damn things still work - I really don't usually have to scrub the rust off, and my clothes have never gotten stained. With that, why buy a new set when my energy bills are low and my clothes are still clean? Right. Okay, I'll stop being old now. I just really like becoming debt free. It is good.

In other news, it's late, and I gotta go get up and go to post tomorrow AM to talk to a man about a horse. G'night, y'all.