Y'all Are Right

Yeah, the twinges indeed shall pass. I guess we do all look at each other and then panic from time to time. I appreciate the comments. :-) I'm better today; no one's grass seems greener...at the moment. For one thing, I didn't have a whole lot of time for comparison today. Maybe the trick is to keep busy with your own stuff. Who knew?

I went to the chiropractor today. My first visit took two hours, and today's took an hour and a half. Gahhh. All for maybe 30 minutes worth of tx. The guy's nice, and I want to like it there, but I feel like the office is dingy and hasn't been made a priority. Tons of people are herded in and out - this table, that table, now your adjustment, see ya - and I don't feel like I'm getting much information. Maybe I'm paranoid but it's as if dude wants me to just keep having to come in. Sooo, I explored a second option today and went on post to see the physical therapist that treats the soldiers in Joe's unit (Joe set it up for me). He was badass. NO ONE else was there being herded through. Though Joe was with me, I had the guy to myself to ask questions and get information, which he willingly gave. I gave him my history and did some different stretches, etc. It was pretty great...and FREE. I'm done with the chiropractor, save canceling my next appt, and I will now follow up with the PT. I love it when things work out.

While I was on post I also went to a Family Readiness Fair. I showed up PISSED because they didn't put an address, much less directions on the flyer, so it took me a while to find it. Of course what I went there to investigate didn't pan out. Joe's unit is starting an exclusive medical clinic just for its families with a retired flight surgeon in charge. Dude was supposed to be there to answer questions, and I had some specifics: how many families are anticipated being served, what will the support staff entail - Physician's Assistants, Nurse Practitioners, etc, and will there be options for female staff for female exams. Doc of course wasn't there for me to talk to, and prior to my arrival Joe asked one of the medics about the clinic. I guess Joe asked specifically about who would be doing the female exams, as he knew that was one of my questions, which the medic couldn't say for sure. So, when I get to the waiting area in front of the medical table (about ten or more feet away), I ask the guy from where I'm sitting if he can answer general questions about the clinic (before I physically approached) in lieu of the doc not being there. To that the medic hollered, "Not gynecological questions!" He wasn't malicious or anything the way he hollered it. It was just that he hollered it. I realize we weren't up to his table, but he could have motioned us to approach first. Yeah, we're all adults, and while I've never had a child, I've had a zillion lady part issues, and one exam in particular had a full audience - female nurse, male med student, female resident, and male attending who came in and introduced himself with a handshake while I was in stirrups. Still, it was a little awkward to sit in a room full of soldier dudes and have that shouted at you. Initially I wanted to know what the hell Joe had been talking to the guy about, as Joe responded, "Yeah, I already asked him those questions." Ah, Joey.

Other than that, I got a packet to fill out so I can do my will. I also talked to a retired chaplain who works for Army Community Services about my background as a social worker. He gave me pointers on how to write my electronic resume so that it's actually flagged on CPOL (damn technology). He even said suggested that I join the Army, as they are apparently recruiting social workers. It went right over my head at first, and then I realized he meant NOT a civilian recruitment. With that, I made a comment that I would never see my husband, and we wrapped it up fairly quickly. I hit one more table or so and got some info on volunteering, which is of course one of the best ways to network, and then Joe and I busted out of there.

It was a good day, and I got to spend a few hours with Joe on post, which was cool. He does look pretty hot in his duty uniform. After all that I came home and played with the puppies inside for a bit before taking a nap. Man, I love my damn dogs. Lu is really starting to warm up to us. She's not previously been much for being close to us on her own accord - sits on the other side of the couch, etc. Now she comes and sits by us - love it. Also, we stopped making her sleep in our bedroom at night and let her sleep on the couch with Dex instead. But tonight while we were talking and getting in bed, little Lu comes walking into the room and nested down in her bed. Made me so happy, and I saw all over Joe's face that his heart was melting. Only took her 8 months to decide she likes us. :-) Good husband and happy puppies - my grass was greener today.

Oh Foot. :-)

Anytime I want to use the computer with internet, I have to allot a good half hour to fight with the router before I can actually get internet connection between it and the modem, and then more fighting to have a wireless signal actually transmitted thereafter. After all that, my previously planned blog topic is somewhat sidelined by my desire to rip my router out of the wall and smash it against various surfaces in the office. That would at least stop the high pitch screech of noise that it gives off regardless of its functioning. But I won't.

So today was a pretty good day despite not sinking my teeth into a delicious chicken burrito with rice, corn salsa, cheese, sour cream, and black beans. Instead, I baked cookies, as the temperature outside wasn't going to cause us to heat stroke inside if the oven was actually used. It stayed overcast in the 80s and rained occasionally. It was magnificent. I had a couple good phone conversations, and then some good fun eating cookies with Joe...which subsequently led to a sugar crash and nap. Awesome.

But then in the middle of a great day there's these moments where being a mid to late twenty something just freaks me the fuck out and then I start wondering what am I doing? This came about when Joe and I were talking about our siblings after receiving our familial updates. One of Joe's brothers is a pilot CPT in the Air Force as well as some sort of inventor now and the other is a physics genius whose possibilities are endless. My sister is of course beginning dental school and is making business ventures with her husband that should set them up for a pretty good future. Um, then there's Joe and me. Joe is doing well, and his (our?) future is bright but requires waiting another couple of years before being truly "fruitful." My future is sort of blank, as I just quit my shitty social work job and have no desire to return to the field. So depending how you look at it Joe's an enlisted Army grunt who hasn't had been promoted since joining in 2007, and I'm unemployed (retired).

Yeah, I know - the above is some defeatist bullshit. And, it's okay if my calling is to work with shelter animals, wear tapestry smocks and sweaters while I drive around a 1980s van to pick up abandoned dogs. Okay, that might really be my calling, but maybe I can make it a little more glamorous? Eh? Seriously, this goes back to my eternal problem, about which I'm constantly writing, making proclamations that I will do better and think better. I do try, but then I get jealous...and bitchy. I'm genuinely happy for all our siblings; I'm just frustrated that I still don't have my shit together and can't seem to just be happy with what I have. I think it's partially a product of age and partially a product of not properly using my resources.

I think the person in my family (and in my whole life for that matter) who did the best at being happy and being at peace was Oma. I wish I could talk to her now and learn more about her outlook on life when she was my age and how she handled struggles, etc. Of course that information would probably just be validation that I'm not an asshole and am in fact normal, as I'm sure her outlook wasn't always what it was when I knew her. What I need to know I probably already do, and it's this: Live simply, love your family, enjoy your time together and do what you have to do to make that happen. Oma wasn't fancy and never had a lot of money, yet I had the most fun with her as a kid. When I visited her there was always so much to do right there in the city she lived (or neighboring cities) - zoo, library, museum and so on, and when she saw fit she took advantage of opportunities to get out of town or created them herself. She went to Russia with a teacher's program, and then as I've mentioned before took a part-time job at age 65 at McDonald's to give us the opportunity to go to Europe, she also took an Alaskan tour with my aunt after that, and most recently prior to her death was talking about Egypt. The drapes hanging in her house didn't matter, as mine seem to, nor did the car she drove or what she wore. She was more interested in learning and doing and seeing different parts of the world, some close to home and some far away, and doing so with family. The month before she died she wanted to take me to a Viking cooking school (the company, not the clan) for my birthday. She was ready to go try something new, but I didn't want to for one reason or another. I wish I had. And I wish she was here now to tell me not to worry so much and just damn do something.

My New Boyfriend.

Holy crap. We've been watching Man, Women, Wild, annnnd the guy on there is awesome. Knows his survival shit, is good looking, AND takes care of his woman, making sure that she doesn't die all the while being a sensitive gentleman. Either he's that good, or his editing team is amazing. I'm going with the former, and may I never know any differently. {dreamy sigh}

Well, my back felt much improved today, though still a bit tender. I didn't have to lay endlessly on the floor. Shoot, I was even able to do several loads of laundry and dinner (though it wasn't a complicated one)...don't worry Joe still dusted, vacuumed, and amongst other things replaced my car's air filter!!! Win! And so from Tuesday and Wednesday where it hurt to do anything, I'd say I'm definitely on the mend. I mean I couldn't even sit up from supine position, which I can do now with very minimal pain! Previously, from the couch or the bed, I would have to roll over (which was agonizing pain) onto my stomach and ease my legs over the edge of the furniture and very gently lower my feet to the ground and push myself off. It was awful, and our couch is particularly "cushy" and soft in places. Once or twice I got stuck due to pain, couldn't roll over, and didn't know if I could get up. Being "helped" up only made it worse. OMG. It was so bad. I respect my back so much more now. Baby girl, I will take care of you. Also, after all this BS with not being able to schedule with my regular doc and seeing a civilian chiropractor out of my own pocket, albeit at a good rate, I found out today that Joe's unit has a small medical team that's willing to help spouses with injury rehabs, etc - at least a doc and a physical therapist. One of Joe's friends told him today. Ah, always good to know your resources.

Tomorrow is our last day home together before Joe goes back to work. As it turns out, I will not be getting Chipotle, which deeply saddens me. Another day I suppose. Also, I'm a little nervous about being here alone during the weekdays, as then my unemployment will be "real." That said, I have a host of projects I've been making mental notes on, and of course I have this back to continue to nurse and meals/budgets to plan and prepare. Hell, the dogs alone are almost a full time job. Of course, with fall approaching, I have no reason to try to look good in a bathing suit, so I could always just eat the days away. I hear that leads to happiness. :-) Seriously, I do have some volunteer options to consider, so I believe my time will be spent in ways other than going completely nuts. To start it may well be just by making BFF's with the physical therapist and getting my back ready to start an actual fitness routine again. Baby steps.

Ripping and Ranting

Earlier, I was going to jump head first into this post and shred just about every person and subject I wrote about. But then I decided to do a little FB stalking and have since cooled off. I've been experiencing some rage... - - Oh, actually the rage is back. I've been in here laying on an ice pack for the last half hour, AND JOE HAS BEEN IN THE BATHROOM THE WHOLE TIME. But before he went in, he let both dogs out, and when I went to return my ice pack to the freezer just now, I caught the dogs chasing each other outside at full speed. Dude, Dex really isn't even supposed to go out at all without a leash on BECAUSE HE ALMOST NEEDED ORTHOPEDIC SURGERY THIS WEEK. I am so fucking mad right now.

When I angrily questioned him through the bathroom door, Joe claimed he needed to have a time out "away from other people," so he went to the bathroom. Dick, I'm the only other person here, so I know who you were getting away from. This all stems from the car ride home from post. I rode with Joe to go sign back in from his leave because he wanted to show me their new building. Riding in the car is painful right now anyway, and Joe zipping around folks in rush hour traffic didn't help. THEN, we got on the subject of why I hate it when he plays his video games and is having fun. Which is what I was originally going to write about. So here goes.

I'll admit it; I hate that Joe is so dependent on video games and loves them so much. When I met him, he played World of Warcraft, and I hated that game too. Due to time constraints with joining the Army, he had to quit WOW, and now relies on playing his XBOX 360 any chance he gets. And I hate it. I'm not sure exactly why, but I can venture a few guesses. In no particular order, first, there is the issue of the Army. I compete with the Army for my husband's time, and the Army always wins. So then, when he's home, and I have to compete with the goddamn video games, I get really damn frustrated. He's mad that he's only gotten the hour or two in the mornings before I get up to play during leave. Well, what the fuck man? How much is enough? Second, when I stroll into the room to find him glazed over, pouring over every detail of his stupid game that has no bearing on his real life, I think of all the shit I've asked him to do that still hasn't gotten done. One of these things would be an air filter for my car. I have been asking Joe to replace it for a year now, and I have made a point of not replacing it myself, nor letting the oil change guys replace it. I guess those are really the two biggest reasons, and really the only two I can think of right now. That said, I don't want Joe to quit playing altogether. I know he needs a break too, but I just think that if you're a grown ass man, you might should act like it.

This may seem strange to some of you, but I've thought about my dad a lot lately and how I wish Joe could be more like him in some ways. My dad works a lot at his job and has for over thirty years now. He puts in a lot of hours, though perhaps not quite as much as Joe. Still, when he's home he loves to be outside and work in the yard. He's not afraid to do a little work inside either. The man can clean. He can do dishes, vacuum, laundry, and let me tell you he is the master at folding. He folded some of my clothes when I was staying with them, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out who had done it until he finally told me it was him. I was in awe. Where my dad is also thoughtful is with the vehicles. When I'm home he checks my car without me asking - checks the fluid, etc, and tops off what needs it. Where these things are first nature for my dad, the man that I grew up with, they are foreign to my dear husband.

Maybe this will never change. Sometimes I think Joe's got it, but then ultimately he leaves again and forgets what life is like here because I take care of it. Plus, he just wants to relax when he has the time. But where does that leave me? Am I always going to be the primary and the back up? And making turkey sandwiches for me and running a few errands while my back is out doesn't count. I'm sorry, but it doesn't. Gah.

Brokeback Georgia

Okay, I am not healing fast enough. This is my third day of doing nothing, and I feel like I'm not getting a whole lot better. I can hardly do anything, and even though I thought I was a lazy ass on occasion, I apparently do a lot. Joe is out running errands right now and just watching him try to remember all the places he had to go and things to do was a bit re-affirming. Still, I'd rather be running around with him and getting shit done. I also really want to be able to make it to Atlanta for some Chipotle and Cheese Cake Factory. Meh.

Really not a whole lot else. All I'm supposed to do is be resting and icing my back, per the chiropractor I went and saw yesterday. I have to go see him again on Monday. Something about some stuff in my back shift - not discs or anything like that - but something important enough to shoot electricity across my body with random movements. I'm definitely going to take better care of myself after that. You can't do shit with a hurt back.

So that's two paragraphs about my back. The only other thing on my mind right now is money and cars. We're having Joe's car fixed right now in preparation to sell. There were a host of things to be fixed, but a new fan or whatever the hell was a part of that until the damn thing started overheating a few weeks ago. So that's $180 that we weren't planning to spend. Bah. Oh well. Next is possibly a muffler, then new tires, and last a windshield. Hopefully it sells quickly, then all the money we're waiting to come in arrives - Joe's bonus and the rest of my work money and cashed out retirement (it was shitty). THEN, it's newer car time! Woohoo.

Until then I'm going to lay here with my ice pack and drool over vehicles on autotrader.com. Happy Thursday.

Kate.0

I want to cover some ground tonight since I only blog once a week now, which is because I've been opting to read in bed in the evenings so I can have one arm free for Joe to gently scratch/rub. (Don't be fooled; he's still a douche man.) With that, I'm going to stream-of-consciousness try to list all the shit I was trying to remember to write about: Dex, my back, Joe, skipping a period in July. Yeah, something like that.

Okay, to start let me talk to you all about my back. I have had sciatica problems in the past, but whatever low back pain I am currently experiencing tops that sciatica bitch by leaps and bounds. Today was the worst so far and involved me crying on the phone to my Army clinic who can't schedule me to see my doctor for a month and really could not give me any alternative options other than to see a different physician at the clinic whose first available appointment is still in ten days. Let's be clear: it hurts to sit, stand, lay down, cough, laugh, sneeze. Standing up is best, but even then I feel pain roll through my back. When I'm laying down, I have to roll on to my side, which hurts so bad I almost get teary, and either lower myself off what I'm laying (or if I'm on the floor, get on all fours) and push myself up from there. I haven't done any one thing that was like BAM I fucked up my back. Instead, it's been sore for quite a while, and in the last week, it's gotten much worse. The last few days have really been awful, and as I already mentioned, today takes the cake (so far), despite stretches and deep breathing and ibuprofen and even a Flector patch that was my grandpa's. I have an appt with a chiropractor at 9AM tomorrow, so I'm hoping for magic hands. Most of the chiropractors around here do military payment programs, so I'll pay $50 for my first visit and then $25 thereafter. For diagnostic testing they'll send me to a diagnostic center that accepts tricare so my xrays, etc (should) be free. Booya. Tricare apparently doesn't pay out to chiropractors...but I know there are specialty clinics on post...and if I had a referral from my post doc, who knows what I could get. But whatever. I have my appointment.

In other medical news, Dexter has had all sorts of consultations for him, as his medical treatment far exceeds mine. Thank you, Army. Long story short, it looks like he's developing arthritis at a young age, for which he may start treatment sooner than later - shots...that I have to administer. Uggghhh. The good news is that it doesn't look like he'll need surgery right now for that possible bone chip because the joint fluid they tested today on his shoulder was in good shape. We got that information when we went to pick him up. When we initially dropped him off, the doctor was explaining the arthritis situation and how Dexter would have to permanently limit his play - no wild jumping, running, "chasing frisbees." Dude, he's a dog, and in my overly emotional head at the time I felt that Dexter's quality of life was going to suffer - ya know, dogs are dogs. What is there if he can run and jump and play? Sooo, I burst into tears at my vet's office. And I couldn't stop. Joe was there, but still, these dogs are the only kids I have right now. They are always home with me, and I love them. By the time I did calm down, Dex who is always too excited to even stand still at the vet was in fact resting against my legs with his head on my knee looking up at me. Sweet boy. Pet-induced neurosis is something else. I know he'll still have a good life, and he may be just a dog, but I want him to be happy.

As I've written the last few paragraphs, my issues with Joe have calmed. It's just the case of me feeling like he doesn't think enough, even though he feels like he's been going out of his way for me. See, earlier, the kitchen was a wreck and the place needed vacuumed, and I can't get out of bed without trouble much less push a damn vacuum. So I started flipping out a little asking him what his plan was for everything. Maybe I overreacted, but I felt like he should have been able to figure out that some of those things needed done and that I wasn't able to do them. I mean, we live in the damn south. Roaches here are the size of cigars. You don't want to tempt that kind of shit. The house needs to stay CLEAN. And a little more cuddling (well, from a distance - foot rubs) would have been good today too. I felt bad and was emotional. He offered me food and took me out for ice cream (as well as to buy dog food and a few groceries) when he was apparently sick to his stomach. What a guy. After we left the vet's office earlier in the day when I'd cried, the first thing he said to me outside was "You're driving." To which I told him, "We'll die because I can't move." Idiot.

Last, I've been meaning to write about this for a while: my paranoia that I'm going to end up as one of those chicks on "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant." I skipped my period in July at the height of my stress over Joe in Ranger School. I'm on the pill and everything, and the only other time I've skipped one was in college during finals one semester. But then I did get it earlier this month. However, chicks on that show say they still got theirs too, even though it wasn't their actual cycle. Also, I had gone through a time when I came home every day after work and passed out. Now I'm putting on some weight on top of it. And I have horrible back pain, knowing I have a uterus that tips backward toward my spine (which also allegedly makes showing less noticeable at first). So have I taken prego tests? Yes, like 3-4 with morning urine 2/4 times. All negative. Yet, I read an online forum full of people saying they had all negative tests and then had to go see their doctor for a blood test. (Obviously, seeing a doctor for me is about as rare as Joe turning on a vacuum.) Bottom line, I just want to definitely know if I'm pregnant or not so I can properly care for my fetus and not turn it into a mongoloid baby. More neuroses, I know. Shit.

Waffles and Lamps

We have a deal in the mornings while Joe is home on leave: He gets up with the dogs around 7-7:30AM, and I stay in bed until around 9AM, so he can play video games after he tends to the dogs. The other day I got up before 9AM, and Joe's whole video game world turned upside down for a few minutes while his man brain attempted to wrap itself around the fact that Wife was up. Yeah, that didn't go well.

But this morning when I got up, Joe was in the kitchen making waffles! Woohoo. It's really not for me; he just loves making waffles. So much in fact, that he was completely unaware that a lamp in the living room had been shot off its resting place (likely by a dog) and the compact fluorescent bulb had broken. Ah, mercury. It got cleaned up, though, and Joe is back with his waffles.

Our "staycation" is going well. We were supposed to get out of town for a few days to Savannah, but just found out the extent of Dexter's latest limp may require orthopedic surgery. GAAAAAAH. 1) We can't really board him while he needs meds and has to be on super light duty. 2) If we have to pay for orthopedic surgery, I guess we should start hoarding our money. Good thing I quit my job... Bah. But he's our "child," and we love him. The injury is to his shoulder, and there was no big event that caused it, nor does he act hurt or is in any way slowed down on his own accord. He just starts limping badly after a while, which is while his physical activity is now severely limited. Basically, part of his shoulder bone may be chipped and need worked on. (I kind of stopped listening after the mention of surgery.)

So anyway. Joe and I are just chillin'. Dex is forced to chill as well, and Lu doesn't know what the hell is going on. She's sad Dex can't play, and seems to disappear into some Pine Tree Narnia in the backyard because she all the sudden reappears, and her head is covered in pine sap. She smells good, though.

I think we're still going to take some day trips - go to Atlanta, and then over towards Macon to hit up a peach orchard on another day. In the meantime, Joe and I have officially started p90x. Tony Horton acts like a little bitch, but his workouts will kick your ass. They're good. Today is Day 4 - Yoga. Plyometrics was on Tuesday, and with all the jumping around and other crazy-ass-shit, my stomach was literally upset for a full 24 hours. Better now. We're also eating better, which may have caused some of the discomfort as well. I'm so sore, but I know it'll be worth it. It better be worth it.

Tunnel? Light? What?

Dare I say things are getting better? Every post I've written lately that contains such information is followed by another post that proclaims the bottom is dropping out and that I am, in fact, a nut job. But I think maybe things really are looking up.

It's been since Saturday that I cried, likely because I cried enough that evening for most of everyone in the tri-state area. Saturday was a rough day - super awful bad day at work. And bad days at psych hospitals are BAD. Further, whilst I was at work it was "man weekend" at my house, which I wasn't overly excited for. Not to mention that despite the increased degree of difficulty in planning, Joe had not yet made any special plans with me since his return home. But there he was hosting his animal friends at the house I'd taken care of by myself for the last two months. To give you the reader's digest version of how Saturday played out, I couldn't reach him for over an hour only to come home to an empty house that Joe vowed he wouldn't leave (while drinking all day and playing video games with a few friends). With empty beer cans and bottles numbering in the 20's and confirmed number of other people in attendance besides Joe being one, I thought they were hurt, dead, or arrested. I called the county jail and an ER before I finally heard from Joe: There were four of them, and they had gone to the movies courtesy of a sober driver...a note indicating such would have been amazing. Still, I was hysterical, and everything erupted from there.

We fought intermittently for the next 4-5 hours, but we weren't fighting just about the irresponsible man shenanigans, nor all the idiocy at my place of employment including the last patient I'd seen with 3 inch long vertical, bone-deep lacerations on each wrist that were stapled shut. No, more than all that, we were fighting to be heard by each other and to be back on some common ground. Through tears and shouting and losing our minds, we made it to the other side. And it started to click again. It's not back to baseline, but we've been making steady improvements since then. Sometimes I guess you do have to have it out (if that sort of things works for you - think comedian Christopher Titus), so long as it doesn't turn into a domestic in progress. No, no.

That brings us pretty much to present. Joe is passed out already, and I am lying here thinking about the future. I have two days left at my job, and admittedly, I've had to ask Joe (just this evening in fact) if I'm doing the right thing in quitting. He responded with "Yes, definitely; I want you to still have a soul." He's right. It's easier to doubt myself when there is an end in sight. When I think about continuing to work there without an exit, the rising panic confirms both Joe's thoughts and my actions. I just need to figure more out of what's next. Joe is betting on two weeks before I start to go crazy at home. He may again be right, but I don't know what's next. I know I need some kind of change, but I need to find out more of what I want to do before committing to something (and possibly returning to school for it). I guess I just need to roll with my eyes open and keep my ear to the ground. I'm confident there is some better fit for me. Of course in sort of an "Office Space" moment earlier when Joe asked me what I day dream about doing for a job, I told him "nothing - I don't think about working in any job." Yeeeeah.

Who's a Princess?

Dude. My posts are becoming bipolar. Shit's really good, and then shit's really shit. Today at work was good, and then after work was kind of shit. Nothing new. I'm tired of this. I believe I need to get out of here. My family in Pennsylvania told me to come visit....but they don't have central air. So I'm going to wait on that one. In the meantime, I have Tosh.0 on the TV, which is awesome, and I'm planning to take a walk in a minute sans Joe. Mama needs some alone time with the ipod. BAH.

In other crap news, I have 6.5 days left at my job, which I am working all in a row starting Saturday. Thought I'd go ahead and make sure that on my last day I really don't want to be there anymore. Being at that place every day for seven straight should do the trick.

I don't know what else. As I've continued to write off and on over the last couple days, thinks are genuinely difficult. There are a few good days and then things get tough again. I am tired of it. I don't know what to do about it. But I know that I can't fix it. I can raise hell, and I do. But I cannot fix it.

On that note, fuck you, Army. I'm going for a walk.

Well Gooooooooood

Oh dang. I'm laying in bed and don't feel like self-harming. Woohoo! I'm imagining something Buddy the Elf-esque with running around and twirling circles, but instead of "I'm in love, I'm in love, and I don't care who knows it," it is something like "The lambs have stopped screaming, and I no longer care to eat a gun." Yes, but tomorrow is of course a new day.

Today is good, though. I haven't cried since like Friday. Joe and I are finally getting along and even got a lot done together this weekend. I spent much of Friday cleaning since I had the day off, and then that evening we had a sushi date followed by ice cream and stalking around various car dealerships - hello 2006 Honda Pilot, you will be mine. Yesterday, we tried to just beat the heat and holed up for most of the day, laying around (after I vacuumed and did laundry), reading, watching TV and movies. It was good. Very good. Today we hit the ground running - laundry, took a morning walk (later took an evening one too), bathed the dogs, showered ourselves, and then I meal planned, clipped coupons, checked ad sales and made grocery store lists. The latter half of the day was filled with errands and actually buying the groceries. I have the whole week planned - healthy stuff to boot, and I'm hoping to really get a baseline for our spending to outline a budget using only what Joe makes. I want to be careful with the money but also to eat well. Joe's battered body is helping me to try and cook better and feed both of us things that will do our bodies good.

Speaking of doing good for bodies, I bought the P90X system today. Instead of 3 monthly installments of $39.95 + shipping, I bought it for one installment of $59.95 and free shipping. Granted, I have to wait for it to arrive from Hong Kong (yes, it is in English), but I feel it's worth the 50% off. Also, it will give me time to quit my job and let my sore back heal. At first Joe gave me shit about jumping on the "latest trend", but to my knowledge, this thing had been out for a while. However, I have heard several people recently say they used it and got good results, so I did a little research and then figured why not. I pay for a gym membership I do not use because I hate everything about going to the gym and being at the gym. Why not try something I can do at home and see if it can't replace my gym membership which expires in October? So that's what I'm doing. I'm super excited. I'm actually surprised at myself. I'm just ready to feel better and look bitchin'. And Joe has since come around, reporting he will be doing the work outs with me, which will be even better (maybe). In the meantime, we're starting to take walks together and both doing chiropractic exercises for our ailing backs. I'm happy. Now what to do with his "leave" time off......