Rosie 1
Donald 0
Donald Trump is totally making an a$z out of himself over this. The things he's saying about Rosie O'Donnell are absolutely uncalled for. He actually called her a slob. Why is she a slob? Because she's not blonde and not thin? Because she's not a high-maintenance woman? I wonder what that creep with the combover would think of me?
So I'm working here at my cubicle and exclaiming, "What the he||?" out loud as my loverly Christian supervisor walks by. And she goes, "Excuse me?" And shortly thereafter I get a lecture about how I shouldn't talk like that at work and how it's unprofessional.
"Everyone in this office talks like that and worse and we're supposed to be different because we're women and we're secretaries?" Oh my God, Napoleon's mouth is like a veritable sewer and the people who report to him aren't much different. I actually once witnessed a salesperson utter the word pu$$y in a meeting. In a MEETING! In front of poor Supervisor!
"No, it's because you report to me."
Well I'm terribly sorry, but I'm not some gentle southern lady and I'm not a devout Christian and I will talk any dang way I please!
Actually, no I won't. I probably will continue to mutter the word 'mother(tr)ucker' under my breath at my desk but that's about it. I'm just being whiney and irritated because I'm sick and can't seem to just get well. And I have this date on Saturday and am getting more and more nervous that it's going to be a big fat waste of time with some touchy-feely, silent, boring, horse-faced knitwit.
God I'm touchy today. I wish I could just shut my stupid fat trap and stop saying retarded things to people! Now I'm going to have to go and make amends to my supervisor for talking back to her instead of respecting her VERY REASONABLE wishes!!!!
So I met someone online. We talked for a while and he asked me out. I said yes.
Did you ever notice that when you say that you met someone online, people look at you like you must secretly have elephant man's disease and therefore can't get a man any other way?
Well they might be looking at me that way because I had/have an unhealthy habit of going online, finding people to go out with and then ignoring every other dang thing in my life in the search for 'the one'.
I'm not sure that I've completely shed that habit, but there is a different feel to the whole dating thing. I don't feel desperate like I used to. My sponsor said, however, that when we're first in recovery and we try to attempt doing something for the first time while in recovery, we have a tendency to go back to our old habits, at least at first. And she said that our shame often tells us that we better latch onto whatever we can get when it comes to relationships, and she's fairly sure that there is at least some of that going on here.
I think there is a good chance that she's right. Ok, a good chance? How about, she's right? While I don't feel desperate to find someone right now, and I find the idea of a full-blown relationship to be something that I look at with trepidation, I am in fact starting to date three months before my year is up. I did in fact seek this.
Hmmm, how about some _really_ raw honesty? I did what a lot of lonely folks do late at night when the kid's asleep and they feel listless…I sought out the comfort and thrill of that lovely invention…the Chat Room. Flirt all you want. Be effervescent! Most people are in another state, so you almost never need fear that that fun, flirty, phantom persona will ever impinge on your space. And sure enough, you sit there long enough, someone's bound to message you. Most of the time, that someone is looking for something you don't want to give, but occasionally, you might get someone in your state who's not just looking for _that_. And that's how this guy came across me.
And, oh, the people who are just dying to show their bits off to anyone who's willing to look. That's troublingly amazing to me.
I think it'll be fun to go out on a date with someone. It'll be fun to meet someone new. It will be fun to test the waters. See what's out there. But after I go out with this guy, I don't know if there will be date number two. He seems nice, but there's something that's not tripping my trigger…like that he's asking me what my views on marriage (do I want to get married? Etc. etc.) are or how many kids I want. And kinda going on about how he's got his master's degree now and he plans to get another job, probably in Kansas City and is ruthlessly ambitious, bent on having wife, kids, house, dog, and phD by age 50 (or did he say 40)?
For the first time, I don't have an answer as to how many kids I want. I don't know if I want to be married again. Were I to get married again, I don't know what kind of ceremony I'd want. Don't you decide those things when you actually are in that place in your life? Don't you decide that with your partner?
Well, I don't know. God it would suck if I ended up wasting a Saturday evening on someone who can't open their mouth to save their life in person. Or whom I found repulsive in person.
Ok, why am I doing this again? LOL
Did Keith Urban really cheat on Nicole Kidman?
It seems a little stupid to add my two cents to such a thing, but would it really be surprising if he did? Here's some food for thought - how can you tell an addict's lying?
Their lips are moving.
I know that's how I was. Sometimes it's still hard to shake that dishonesty but I don't do the things I used to do. Now it's more like little white lies. Still trying to stop that too. But maaaaaaaaan, when I was married? I didn't cheat but I sure did lie my a$z off. About money, about this, about that. Didn't help that he was a control freak, but nevertheless, I was still lying.
Part of me is like, how can I listen to all that wonderful music knowing that he was cheating on his wife? Another part of me is like, who cares? The music is still the music, and it's still good music. And I don't sit and think about how happy HIS life is, was, or will be, or whatever when I listen to it. I think of mine. Songs like "Raining on Sunday" and "Making Memories of Us" make me think of how cool it would be to be loved like that. Songs like "You'll Think of Me" make me think of relationships lost and whatnot.
So it's too bad if he did cheat on her. I feel bad for her.
But I will still keep buying his CDs. Cause they're d*mn good.
Wow, at least three beauty pageant women are getting tarred and feathered lately. The latest is Miss USA Nevada, Katie Rees, over some photos taken of her five years ago.
I can't help but think that if she were a man, no one would care about her sexuality, drinking alcohol, or flirting at parties. I think it's ridiculous that these women are taking such a beating for things that men do all the time. Granted, they knew what was expected going in, but so what? Maybe those expectations are just a little bit ridiculous, especially when you're talking about women in their early 20s and younger.
'You find in solitude only what you take to it'
- Juan Ramon Jimenez
If I force preconceived notions onto a problem, what can I learn? To learn something new, I need an open mind, a trusting mind which can wander into places that once frightened me.
Rather than suppress thoughts and feelings, it is better to give them a good airing, to look at them in the clear light of day. Unattended, hidden feelings, like illusions, once defeated me. Today, I know that feelings cannot hurt me as long as I'm willing to look at them and see them for what they are.
FOR TODAY: What I bring to my moments of solitude, when I look inward at my feelings and attidues, is self-honesty and openmindedness.
Hmmmm….
I'm not sure if it's just Winter Spread going on, but lots of people here are bulking up. There's one VP whose chest appendages keep getting closer and closer to her waist because they are growing in size. And then there's Twiggy. Whom I must now re-name Malignant Presence because she is no longer Twiggy. Another name for her might be BGB, or Baby Got Back.
And then there's my friend who had gastric bypass surgery and is now starting on the slow road back to where she was. I hope her disease is arrested at some point. I think my heart might break for her if she gained all that weight back after the extraordinary lengths she went to in order to get it off of her, including a blod clot and a tummy tuck. I tried to offer Overeaters Anonymous to her, but she wasn't willing at the time, so of course I dropped it like a hot potato. She said something lame about how she wasn't offended because when she had gastric bypass, she thought that her solution was what would be best for everyone else too. That, however, is not how I think. She might benefit from OA, but OA is not the solution for everyone. It's just the solution for people who are using food as a drug. And even if that's the case, it's still not necessarily the solution. There are other iterations of Program that work for people. I'm just carrying the message that she's not alone and gently at that. I'm not shoving OA down anyone's throat, as we all know that addicts detest that. : ) Which is why we don't recruit. Attraction, not promotion.
I went out with a couple of friends on Saturday night and we looked at Christmas lights in the ritzy 'hoods. It was a blast. I had one beer at dinner that night and I can't believe the effect it had on me. I was so, I don't know, relaxed? No, that wasn't relaxed. My personality became a little muted. I'm not sure how I feel about that…not sure that it was a good feeling at all. Getting buzzed or whatever doesn't have the appeal for me that it once had.
As for my Program, I went out with my mom yesterday and did not overeat. I stood up for my boundaries and asked my mother to please not include my sister, as that would quickly turn into a disaster. And that disaster would last until Tuesday, as Munchkin would be acting out for at least, at LEAST three days, if not more. She has just gotten her sanity back after a week of vicious acting out, so I don't want to mess with that. Plus I'm not sure how I feel about this 'happy family' act. Things are NOT normal, hello! And is there anyone in the world who's better at driving me crazy than my sister?
It's funny how my perceptions of her have changed. I used to feel so sorry for her…sometimes I still do. Most of the time, though, I am mindful of how manipulative and controlling she really is.
We sang Christmas carols and I soon found myself feeling like I was ten feet tall because this couple is intent on spreading joy. They are extremely complimentary. Their relationship is so beautiful, it makes me wish to find someone like that. Actually, I've seen a lot of beautiful relationships in Program. Whether it's my friend Angie and her husband Dave or it's Kari and Angel, it is beautiful to see two people respecting and considering each other…most of the time lol. I'm not over-romanticizing their relationships - I'm sure they fight. But the part that I see is beautiful.
I don't know. I just thought that was an interesting question from my For Today book.
Since I am trying to stay focused in today, I guess I can only answer what my idea of happiness is today. And I think my idea of happiness must be only things that I have control over - not things like 'munchkin will turn into a happy child'.
Happiness is clean clothes; clean clothes that are easily sorted through and that all fit. They should be clean and folded or hung.
Happiness is a non-cluttered home that indeed feels like a home and not a warehouse.
Happiness is treating myself well - eating healthfully but not like I'm on a diet and taking care of myself.
Happiness is avoiding doing things that will cause me to have to make amends later.
Happiness is staying calm when I am in a tense situation.
Happiness is being satisfied with the way that I have handled things.
Happiness is being honest with myself.
Happiness is found through my Higher Power, through Good Orderly Direction, by listening to the voice of reason in the midst of my compulsivity or in the midst of not otherwise specified chaos.
Happiness is found through acceptance. When I accept life as it is, I can then deal with it effectively and satisfactorily. Note to self - make list of things you need to accept lol.
Happiness is being current on my stepwork and doing my journalling as I should be. Note to self - locate all stepwork assignments and complete.
Happiness is not adding the phrase 'you suck' to end of the above note to self.
I love that blog. For some reason, it's not loading properly. Anyone else a reader of Waiterrant and do you know what the problem is? Of course, I suspect that no one knows what it is outside of Waiter.
I don't think I've written about this guy before. I never had much business with him when he was in this department, and virtually nothing since he was moved out of this department. Probably the most memorable thing about him was that he was perpetually in a bad mood. When I was new here, I did a client visit for him in a different building, and he complained to my supervisor because I had forgotten to put out coasters. Coasters! Well, today was a reminder that everyone gets their just desserts.
I saw him in the lunchroom today and I was reminded how much things can really suck for people not working in the sales department.
Hey there, how's it going?
Fine, how are you S?
Oh good. So are you happy now that you're out of sales? I thought the answer would be yes.
Let's see. I work twice as hard and get paid half as much, and I have to worry about getting fired every f*ckin day. Yes, I like it.
Oh dear. I think people not in sales don't get paid quite as much. A friend of mine is leaving the company over it - she supports about 300 people, supervises two employees, and they won't give her a raise. She also gets paid less than I do. Much less. There are some drawbacks to working in the Sales department, but salary is not one of them.
OR perhaps just incredibly insensitive. I'll vote for both.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20061115/ap_en_mo/simpson_interview_14
He is going to discuss, hypothetically, how he would have done it, if he'd done it, but he claims that he didn't do it.
Is the man broke? Is that why he would stoop so low? For God's sake, he's got two children with one of the victims in question…how could he possibly write such a book or especially have an unrestricted interview on this topic?
This smells like a man who's incredibly satisfied that he got away with murder and is just itching to tell the world about it so he can be admired for it.
He looks guiltier than ever.
Nah, don't worry, my job is fine. I am just steeply unmotivated today.
So unmotivated that I had to go home and take a nap during lunch. I'm doing much better now but I have p*ssed away most of the day. Which, strangely enough, I do regret and feel guilty over. Ugh. D*mn conscience is growing or somethin.
ANYWAY, I was inspired by the departure of a colleague of mine to look at the job ads. So I took a gander.
And couldn't find anything in my field that I was remotely interested in. Really.
And my primary reason why? Because I have become a horridly slothful employee! Well, at least for today. On some other days, I am wildly industrious and can get many, many things done.
I just have no passion for being a secretary, a lackey, anymore. I'm not really very interested in helping people, and I want to think more. This has grown way too easy. Every time I look in the job ads for something new, I find things that I could easily do but have no motivation to hop from one frying pan to another.
Goals
I guess I'm going to have to get some kind of education. I can't do this forever. Thank heavens my sponsor gave me a goals assignment. I have to come up with my one year goals and five year goals. I want to do the assignment but I also do NOT want to do it lol. I think she's worried that I'm going to get bored and then go get a boyfriend to fill in the gaps. She needn't worry. I feel too fat to find a desireable boyfriend.
Zaftiguousness
Guys that like fat chicks seem primarily interested in one thing and it shall remain nameless while I type this on my office computer. They're just as bad as shallow hounds trolling around clubs looking for a stick thin blonde. The reason they like more zaftig women? Maybe I'm just overly negative, but I find that it's probably because they deem the zaftigs to be more attainable and easier (in the vulgar sense) than stick thin blondes. I'm sure there are men out there who aren't shady and who are just simply attracted to thicker women. Jolly good for them. But I have yet to meet a non-shady one.
I'm sure that the three or four people who actually read this blog have noticed a downswing in the number of postings. I've noticed myself less interested in posting in the blog.
When I first started the blog, I really didn't have that many friends that I talked to on a daily basis. So, I didn't really have anyone to tell my troubles to, no way of dealing with them. In fact, I wasn't deaing with them. What I much preferred to do was whine and cry and put my problems out there for the world to see in order to elicit sympathy or some other payoff. Hence, the blog.
The other thing that I liked to do was eat lots of Ben n Jerry's.
And I loved getting angry about things. That was great. I mean, I still get angry, but not quite as much anymore. Though, right now I am incensed that I got more sleep last night than I did the previous night and am even more tired than I was yesterday. Ugh. So wrong. Anyway, what better place to get angry and vent and be snarky than in my perfectly anonymous blog, right?
It was a confessional. It was an attention-getter, a way to get approval from the world for how I was living my life, etc. A way to get sympathy and empathy without having to go out on a limb and form any real friendships with real people.
Nowadays, things are different. I don't really need or want a confessional. Sometimes the blog helps me sort things out, but I now question the wisdom of having my sortings publicly displayed. Most of the posts that I start never make it to the blog. I'll be writing one and then realize that I don’t want to post it.
Of course, I still post occasionally, but just don't feel the need to whine so much. It's harder for me to dredge up the snark that came so easily when I was angry and irritated all the time. I have a harder time judging others. Though, of course, I still judge people liberally. Yet, this truly is an improvement in my character. Usually, when I'm writing an especially judgmental post, I hear this voice in my head accusing me of my own faults and urging me to stop throwing stones at others.
I used to love posting to my blog. It was a great outlet. But now I have other outlets. I still post, of course, and I probably won't ever take down the blog, but I just don't have the same need that I once did to put my dirty laundry out on the line for the neighbors to see.
In April, citing hundreds of fraud investigations, the F.T.C. proposed new rules for multilevel marketing companies and related businesses. They would require companies to tell potential recruits how many sales representatives have failed to earn more than their start-up costs and how many customers have filed lawsuits for deceptive practices.
The proposal, which may be modified and could take as long as two years before approval, also requires a weeklong waiting period between approaching new sales representatives and sealing the deal.
If Mary Kay reps had to tell potential new recruits that they are not likely to earn their money back should they choose to buy a full inventory, you'd get a lot less people buying full inventories at the start of their Mary Kay careers, whether they were going to be long or short careers. And that would definitely take a few pink Cadillacs off the road. Ouch.
My best friend of 22 years is going through this right now. She was a 6' ft tall, blue-eyed, blonde, size 10 when, at 23, she married her husband. He is a nice guy in all respects, but he is critical of her because she has gained weight. I just spent a weekend with her in Minnesota and I think that she has become compulsive about food.
Sadly, I think that their union is going to end in divorce unless they can work out their issues. She says that she doesn't want to have kids ever or at least not right now, but I sense conflict regarding children. I think she'd love to have them but not while her husband's shaming her about her weight like that. Plus she is basically taking care of him while he does very little for her. So I think she feels she already has a child to take care of and that a baby will just be added work for her and added abdication of responsibility for him.
They seem to still love each other and seem to still have some of their friendship left. How do you tell your friend that she and her husband need counselling without sounding preachy and intrusive? Answer - you don't. You let her figure it out herself, same as she let you. You hope for the best for her and prepare to offer your shoulder as necessary, without judgment.
I'm thankful to be in program so I can actually see this. So that I can see these things happening and not form my own agenda and try to shove it down her throat. Basically, I'm grateful that I can be a good friend. Finally.
Dear Annie: I read the letter from "Not Thin Enough in Texas," whose fiance was fixated on her weight. You told her to run from him.
I wish I had asked for advice when I met my ex-weight-watcher six years ago. Instead, I married him. I thought his fixation would go away after the wedding, but it got worse. I had to get on the scale every day so he could check my weight. He would buy clothes for me just to make sure I stayed the same size. He belittled me constantly and daily asked if I went to the gym. It was abusive.
By the way, I was, and still am, a size 6. "Not Thin Enough" should run and never look back.
Southern Indiana
And two 20 year trees are being cut down.
One is a sexist old fuddy-duddy. He sidles up to attractive associates at company functions. No one can stand him.
The other is someone whose calls I try to avoid. She doesn't know how to run a computer and talks incessantly while you try to give her instructions. She also usually sounds like she has an overabundance of salivary glands in her mouth. When she calls, you always think she is probably chewing something and mein Gott, that is so rude!
Aside from that, though, Fuddy Duddy and Spit Lady are nice people. FD is usually fun to email back and forth with.
The NY office is slowly being done away with. First, their assistant was axed. And man, she wasn’t happy about it. And she didn't have any qualms letting you know she wasn't happy with it.
My next bet is that the remaining salesperson from that trio will probably work from home going forward. She's expecting a wee one in December, anyway, so it makes life easier for her.
Wish I had more snark about this, but I really don't.
I predict the next one out is Peanut Butter. His corporate credit card is suspended because he FUBAR'd it.
St. Louis
TEDDY WAYNE sure talks a good game. But how is he on the issues — specifically, my issues with him as a boyfriend?
Teddy Wayne promises he’ll call you that night. He promises to be a better listener. He promises to let you hold the remote.
Ladies, aren’t these the same broken promises we’ve been hearing from guys since high school?
Teddy Wayne claims he’s concerned about my health care. But when I got the flu, he dropped off a can of chicken soup and then cut and ran, saying he didn’t want to “risk getting sick when I’m swamped at work.”
Teddy Wayne professes to have a reputation as quite the “swing-stater,” but during his term as my boyfriend he has proven again and again that he kisses like a seventh grader.
And how’s his record?
Teddy Wayne voted no on Proposition “Let’s go somewhere romantic when you have time off in September,” under the pretense that there weren’t the financial resources for it.
But just one week later he passed his friend Randy’s “Dude, let’s hit up Atlantic City tonight” grassroots initiative and spent as much as a weekend at a Vermont B&B would have cost. Is this the kind of fiscal responsibility you want in your boyfriend?
Let’s ask a few women who know Teddy Wayne what they think of him:
MICHELLE F. Things started off nice — $50-a-plate dinners, love speeches, the works. But once I committed, he became the worst lame duck ever, carrying through his real agenda of doing whatever he wanted, always pardoning his awful friends. What a Dukakis.
CAMERON M. That guy? Ugh. He would not leave me and my friends alone on Saturday. At the bar, he kept saying we were “babes” and we should pose for “photo ops” with him kissing us. Later, I saw him drunk-dialing all the girls in his cell — or, as he called them, his “constituents.”
JULIE B. Impeach Wayne!
Ladies, I need a new direction for the men I date. No more singles-bar insiders. Not another out-of-control spender whenever it’s my turn to pay for dinner who then exorbitantly taxes my patience by rambling on about how his boss doesn’t appreciate him.
I want my own Obama, a boyfriend who shows he cares about my livelihood by sincerely asking how my day was, who will look to diplomacy first and not get violently jealous when the deli guy innocently winks at me, who’s willing to share his feelings without first watching “Field of Dreams” — even though I’ll probably soon get bored because he’s a little too nice and harmless and is exactly the sort of guy my mother would vote for me.
This Election Day, join me in showing Teddy Wayne the door. But first I have to make sure there isn’t a Knicks game on, or he won’t even notice.
I’m Teddy Wayne’s girlfriend, and I approve this message.
If everything else comes before your child, then you are a bad parent.
Tomorrow you can change.
HOUSING prices are falling on both coasts, and bubble panic is around the corner. The financial magazines are already grabbing their readers by the throat and taunting them with headlines like: “U.S. Housing Crash Continues!” “Where Will Housing Prices Fall the Most?” “Is It Time to Cash Out?”
What if it is time to cash out? Where do you go? If you sell on either coast, then you need to find real estate somewhere that the housing bubble missed. Guam? American Samoa? Wait, how about eastern Nebraska? Downright frothless when it comes to housing: the median home price here usually chugs along at the annual rate of inflation and never goes down (up 4 percent last year, up 22 percent over the last five years).
Before you recoil in horror at the thought of living in Omaha, a city of 414,000 souls, consider that this year Money magazine ranked it seventh of the nation’s 10 best big cities to live in, ahead of New York City, which ranked 10th. O.K., now you may recoil in horror.
These compelling statistics have Nebraskans preparing for the imminent arrival of several million New York refugees (victims of post-traumatic bubble anxiety disorder), who will need emergency real estate and housing triage services. The accompanying chart gives some facts and figures for Manhattan condo owners contemplating the big move to the Big O.
According to the cost of living comparison calculator at CNNMoney.com, if you were earning $229,000 in Manhattan, or $153,000 in Queens, you’ll be able to maintain the same standard of living in Omaha with a salary of $100,000 (and not because rodeos are cheaper than Broadway shows). Your money will go farther, and you’ll find less competition for jobs: Omaha’s unemployment rate (3.3 percent) is lower than New York’s (4.5 percent). While you are job hunting and living off your real-estate profits, groceries, utilities and health care will all cost roughly one-third less than you are paying in New York.
According to the Tax Foundation, the move to Omaha will save only about 1 percent in taxes. New York has the second highest average state-and-local tax burden in the country (at 12.9 percent of income); Nebraska has the sixth highest (at 11.6 percent). Why so high here? In part because Nebraska’s 1.7 million residents must pay for schools and roads spread out over 77,000 square miles, compared to more than 19 million New York State residents who occupy a mere 47,000 square miles.
Nebraskans also tolerate notoriously high property taxes because they go to the public schools, where rich and poor alike get a quality education. (A proposed state spending lid on the November ballot is widely expected to fail.)
So, why do people live in a state with high taxes, no mountains, no ocean beaches, no lakes to speak of, no major professional sports teams, no grand old museums or dazzling science centers? The three answers you hear most often from Nebraskans are: (1) quality of life; (2) good schools; (3) wouldn’t moving be kind of a bother?
Here are some other pros and cons to consider before cashing out and heading to flyover country.
Pros:
• Big yard (no more dog walkers and poop bags).
• Big sky (makes you look up, and out).
• Traffic (cars move around, at or near the speed limit).
• Cornhusker football (fall Saturdays with the family in the bleachers).
• Friendly people (perfectly sane strangers say, “Hi!”).
• Public schools (excellent, and “free”).
• The local news (high school sports instead of murders).
• The Berkshire Hathaway convention (you don’t have to fly in for it).
Cons:
• Big yard (lawn maintenance can be noisier than street maintenance).
• Big sky (makes even a New Yorker feel small).
• Traffic (sidewalks are optional, no more walking to the corner deli).
• Cornhusker football (the morbidly obese fellow next to you is wearing a Go Big Red cowboy hat, red Sansabelt slacks and white shoes).
• Friendly people (who love to visit ... for hours).
• The local news (high school sports?).
• The Berkshire Hathaway convention (you don’t get to leave when it’s over).
Required reading: “The Quality of Life Report,” by Meghan Daum. In 1999, Ms. Daum moved from New York City to Lincoln, Neb., and wrote this hilarious novel. The heroine, Lucinda Trout, is a television journalist living in a rent-stabilized “one-windowed cell” at Broadway and 94th Street in Manhattan.
When the building changes hands, Lucinda’s rent soars to $2,100 per month. She learns of an assignment in Prairie City, where she can rent an entire farmhouse (and a farm) for $400 a month. She takes the plunge. Unexpected pleasures ensue: “Something about the blandness of the town and the flat land that surrounded it were making me feel alive and exotic. Almost like another person.”
So Munchkin sees Mommy Dearest on Wednesdays and Fridays. Occasionally, Mommy Dearest cancels. Here's the message I got today from her:
"Have 2 cancel visit 4 2night cuz I'm not feeling well. Will & explain further. Sorry :-'("
So I message her back, "Sorry to hear you're not feeling well. What's going on?"
She messages me back. "Took med Dr F wanted me 2 try; feeling very zombie-ish. Ugh."
I almost texted back with, "Are you f'in kidding me? You're disappointing Niece because you feel zombie-ish? I feel like a zombie all week and still did my job!"
I remembered it's not about me just in time to keep from doing something that stupid. It's better when Niece DOESN'T see her mom. It throws her world out of balance and her behaviors get temporarily worse. I have to be honest and admit that I'm more p*ssed that I won't have any alone time than I am that she cancelled. Yes, I am selfish. Aren't we all?
But, yes, I'm also sorry for Niece. I mean, how must it feel for her? I don't know because I can't read her mind, but it can't be a picnic.
Well today I was talking with one of my directors about an account that wants to grow its business with us. And this director, whom we'll call The Little General, looked it up and said, "Oh, that's Mr. Burger King's old account." (Mr Burger King --http://asecretaryslife.blogspot.com/2005/11/guess-whos-trying-to-come-back.html#links)
"Gosh is he still even walking this earth?"
"Oh yeah, just saw him at this tradeshow."
"Is he still with the company he left us for?"
"Oh, I think he's on his third company."
Wow. Not a big surprise. He totally made the wrong move when he left here.
The For Today quote is awesome and reminds me so much of what my primary purpose is right now - to stay abstinent and care for myself and Deirdre.
Patience is a bitter plant, but it has sweet fruit
- German proverb
For today: I am in OA to turn my life around, and I'm willing to wait.
I was about to start starving myself again, frankly. Someone showed me a picture of myself at my lowest weight…and my collar bones looked like they could cut glass. And my lowest weight was not 150…it was 218. Yes, that's right. 218. I can't believe how thin I looked. Makes me scared to go into Onederland. LOL. But hey I looked pretty. :o) LOL.
Like that matters when I starved myself to get there! And I do mean starved…like hair-falling-out starved. Too bad the hair didn't fall out from my legs. LOL. And not grow back.
And then of course I gained my weight back anyway. Because I didn't change my life. I just changed obsessions. And when the replacement obsession grew old and not quite as strong of a drug as the food was, I went back to my core obsession, which was food. I couldn't understand why I kept gaining weight and why I was suddenly longing for old, unhealthy, abusive habits. Well, tada, there's the answer. Whether you're starving or stuffing, you're still obsessing over food and it just doesn't ever get you where you want to go - a happy, healthy life.
My sponsor caught me skipping meals yesterday. She told me that if I didn't stop, my food obsession would return. I just really need to get back to a very healthy way of living, of taking care of myself and my home and my ward. Yeah, it's kinda difficult to do all that when you're exhausted, but the actions have to change first, then the feelings change.
Well I was starting to dive into a new obsession. But I'm thankful that program has helped me snap back into place.
I was starting to lose my humanity. I wasn't taking care of my charges very well, and that includes D. When I stop and let Program back into my life, everything improves.
Not sure what this weekend is going to bring, hopefully not the sleet and snow that's been promised. But I'm happy I wised up quickly enough to not completely ruin it.
Well I'm as disappointed as the rest of his fans are, but it appears that copscop has taken down his blog. Aw, that's too bad. Now I can't read his blog and fantasize. Shucks.
But if you do, call the establishment and ask if they can please send you a copy.
If the person answering the phone tells you that the owners are out of the country and he doesn't know his a$$ from a hole in the ground when it comes to 'the computer', then just say that if you don't get the receipt, you're going to be very loathe to order catering from them again. Hopefully this is an establishment that you use a lot and hopefully they are a new restaurant that needs your business, so your threat will carry some weight.
HELLO! Business can't stop because the owner went out of the country and you're too stupid to own a computer, people! Tough sh*t.
Man, I wish I hadn't lost that receipt. I don't like being nasty to people anymore, but I can be imperious when I need to. I just don't like doing it, where I used to absolutely relish it. Back when I was a total b*tch (read: not in recovery), I'd consider cowing a restaurant employee to be a job well done and all in a day's work. Now I just feel like an a$$.
I **really** wish that Twiggy would just go to lunch like a normal person instead of coming back to her desk. Can't I be 'alone' for one hour per day up here?
What I really need to recognize is that I am just very agitated. It's not Twiggy. It's not the Geico callers, it's not any of that. I'm just stressed out.
Ever heard that song by Taproot, Poem? Great song. Anyway, on with my meager writing talents…if they can be called that.
So is poetry good if you can understand it or is it better if it's mysterious and you don't quite get it? I don't know.
My Stab at Poetry
I love you.
I loathe you.
You're thoughtless.
Yet you make me high.
The antithesis of the pint,
But still the same effect.
I embrace you
And fear your nuances.
Ruination.
Destruction.
Abdication of duty.
I daren't point
At you.
That's powerlessness.
Pointing at me
Are my foolishness's
Results.
Ah, addiction!
Many forms, yet all the same
In their work.
This might be better
If it rhymed.]
I love you.
You're a substance.
In non-substance form.
I want to be fixed.
You have slaughtered me.
Your IVR is absolutely impenetrable. Had I known this, I'd have stalked my butt over to one of your cheap strip mall locations with your clueless employees and complained at them for a while during lunch.
But I didn't know that. Instead I peacefully ate my salad and started reading a new Dean Koontz novel.
So now I'm trying to get one of your local stores on the phone, which is about as achievable as getting Mr. Wrong to set one size 14.5 food in Nebraska, or about as achievable as getting my five year old to stop assaulting teachers and wussy daycare workers. It's about as achievable as my ex deciding to be faithful to any one woman while in a relationship lasting longer than fifteen minutes.
I could go on and on about this, but I won't. Suffice it to say that I get what I pay for and I'm not paying much for this shiznit.
Having a cell phone is almost like some kind of addiction. Really.
Fine! I will just double-pay you greedy mofos!! For f*ck's sake!
So I'm trying to find my little hellion a new daycare because my friend who graciously offered to help me is getting near her expiration date. The wait at the behavioral day center is a month long, even though I have jumped through the hoops as quickly as possible. I'm hoping that someone else's hellion may have improved in the meantime and so may not need the services.
I find myself, instead of trying to be as honest as possible and trying to facilitate good communication, trying to lie as little as I can while still achieving my objective of finding a daycare for Niece.
My search is yielding very little fruit. The biggest find so far is a service that will help you find daycares, but their search product is $35. Just to search for a daycare!!! $35!!!! Just to SEARCH!!!
Still, perhaps $35 would be worth it for a little peace, a little less stress, and the lowering of my blood pressure!
I am in a huge bind. And right now I feel like I am not going to find a way out any time soon.
I'm so tired. But it was worth it to see Flavor Flav's potential concubines' families duking it out last night.You can tell how New York was produced. Her mom's as much of a piece of work as she is.
Someone asked me last night why I watch that show. Well, I watch it primarily so I can feel better about my life. Watch it once and you'll understand.
My guts are all in an uproar and I think it's over this trial on Thursday. And that big zit on the side of my face. I detest that my skin is perptually adolescent. Oh and that I don't have my retreat stuff done either. Bricks and signs, bricks and signs. The committee totally FUBAR'd up the press op that I got them. They can pretty much forget about it now I think.
You know that buzzing thing that Pat from SNL used to do? (she/he was the androgynous one that no one could figure out whether she/he was a she or a he). I feel like doing that. Today. All day.
Well I must go get plates and shiznit ready for that client visit downstairs. Fun fun fun. :o)
When a satellite office asks you to send something to them 2nd day air, you can probably procrastinate on that task for one day and then send overnight, but if they sent the request on 9/26 and it's 10/9 and you didn't do it, be prepared for a spanking.
When they call and ask where the stuff is, you can BS your way through it by saying, "Hmm, I'm not sure what happened to that package. I'll check on it. I'm sure I sent it." And then quickly send it out there.
I thought this might be a fun theme.
Lesson 1:
When wearing low-riding pants, it is wise not to wear panties that have a little pink bow in the back. When you bend over, the bow shows, and when you stand up, it gets caught on the waistband of your pants. Just ask the Marketing Assistant, who is now walking around amidst absolute alpha male dogs with a small pink bow showing in the back of her trousers.
…no, not today. This month, on the 25th. 13 days after D-day, the day of THE trial. God I am looking forward to finally getting some dang resolution to this mess! And I will also say that I am glad it's in God's hands, not mine. Good Orderly Direction.
A VP was walking by my desk when a client services admin had just passed her and she stopped by and asked who that was. I told her. Somehow we got onto the fact that I'm turning 30 this month and I go, "I'm turning 30 this month! Don't I get something for that sh*t?" It was totally a joke and totally not tacky, but it seriously looks tacky in this post. But since I know the truth of its non-tackiness in the situation of which I speak, I will confidently say that I am not tacky. However, I used to be…horribly tacky. I don't feel like going there. I mean, read the rest of my blog and see how messed up I was - then you'll know. LOL
Anyways…..I'm going to be 30 and it's not too exciting. But in this office, it's easy for people to forget one's birthday and that means a loss of partying income. A birthday to these folks means, "Oh! $50 to the Secretary!" Ok, yes, I am tacky. : )
Last year, my birthday was totally forgotten, overlooked, you name it. So I came up with a plan! Cause I was feeling PRETTY damn sorry for myself and was actually quite weepy.
So the plan is this - save last year's cards, begin to display about two-three days prior to your birthday. Great idea, huh?
Works great for Secretary's day too. Save last year's Secretary's Day cards, display two-three days prior to event, and voila! A subtle reminder without the remindees knowing they're being reminded. I mean, like a frickin' charm!!!
And, no, they don't remember which card they gave you last year. Do you remember what birthday card you gave some nameless office face last year? Or even your best bud? Do you remember what your Christmas cards that you gave out looked like last year? Probably not, unless you have extras left over, or unless you have one box of Christmas cards stored in your desk that you use every year and consequently should be good to go for about four years worth of Christmases.
While we're talking about this stuff, you should probably check out www.ghettotips.com. Their tips run in the same vein as the ones that I just dispensed. LOL.
Ok, secretaries, work it!
So ABC Nuts & Bolts recently sent its delegation off to their favorite tradeshow in Vegas. MFD is a total foodie, so she always goes to these really posh restaurants and her bills for her client dinners are exquisitely high.
"So how was Guy Savoy?"
"It was wonderful, absolutely wonderful."
"Tell me about it."
"Well, I had so and so there and we were talking with the waiter. He had this like French accent or something. SS says she wants something green, some vegetables. So he says, 'Well we have these fabulous vegetables in a raspberry reduction,' it sounds good, so she orders that. Then this other person wants some kind of soup. He recommends some soup. So everything's hunky dory until I get the bill. $65 for the vegetables, $75 for the bowl of soup. I about sh*t my pants…about $1200 for the whole thing!"
I knew that was going to happen. There were some other bills in the upper hundreds, but nothing over 2K. No really good alcohol-soaked tradeshow stories either. Bummer.
Oh wait, except that the Marketing Manager got food poisoning and had to STILL work through the dang tradeshow.
In other news, now that Nebraska football season has started, the guys, all naturally competitive sports freaks, are trying to get their clients to accompany them to Nebraska football games…at a rate of about $800 and some change per occasion, just for the tickets. When is management going to catch onto that one? Maybe never. LOL.
I'm about ready to scream right now. Munchkin's school is full of a bunch of adults who are total wussies against my five year old. They are not in charge of their classroom. They're handing all this power over to a five year old for God's sake.
She misbehaves and goes to the Positive Action Center. I have renamed this to something more appopriate for what actually takes place there: the Positive Bullsh*t Center.
This all started last week. On Tuesday, she came home talking about the PBC and how fun it was and that she was good and got to go there. Something was fishy. So I called the school to ask about what this boon she was talking about was. And they filled me in.
Guess what? Next day Munchkin was misbehaving again. And where did she go? To the PBC.
Foster children are usually children who have suffered neglect and abuse of some kind. Because they could not get what they needed from their caregivers, they learned that, in order to survive, you manipulate and cajole until your needs are met. Therefore, many of them, though they are good kids, are also expert manipulators. They truly do not know any better. Such is the case with Munchkin.
I have told them again and again that she is working them, yada yada yada, and they will not change their ways in the PBC until the principal approves it. This absolutely defies sense. So until the principal gets back from her brother's surgery, my kid will be treated well for being naughty. And all those adults are completely aware that they are being worked, but they're willing to let this go on because no one in charge is there to tell them to comply with my wishes!
They called me yesterday and had me come and get her because she was running out of the classroom. I didn't know any better so I just went with it. Today when they called to warn me about possibly having to take her home, I flatly refused. I'm sorry, but you're letting a five year old run your school? Get a clue people.
You know what my sponsor tells me when I call her crying because I'm so frustrated with Munchkin? She tells me, with a tone that tells me I'm being ridiculous, that I'm letting a five year old determine my self-worth. Guess what? She's right. A five year old should NEVER be in charge and that's what this school is letting go on.
And I'm not concerned that they have all these other kids to educate. I'm sorry, but in order to get what I need for Munchkin, I cannot be concerned about that. That is their problem to solve. If I thought it would benefit Munchkin in the least for me to come and get her, then I would certainly do it. But you cannot tell me that Munchkin is the one who will benefit from me taking her home. No. The SCHOOL is the one who will benefit, not my niece. Their 'problem' will be solved and my niece will lose yet another day of learning.
Well, not quite. She'll learn something…she'll learn that if she acts crazy, she will be in charge and can do whatever the he*l she wants. I REFUSED to help the school teach her that.
Snap decisions are usually not good ones.
So it was demonstrated to me today. Munchkin's school called and apparently she is acting out again today.
My lack of confidence in these areas is really showing. At the first mention of switching to half-day kindergarten, I was like, "Yes, school, I will lay down and do what you say!"
But after conversations with the caseworker and the counsellor, that does not seem like the best solution. The best solution is to work through these problems and see if they continue even after applying discipline and patience to the issue at hand. Half-day kindergarten is just a quick fix. I am too easily swayed by people with degrees. When they first mentioned half-day, I was against it. I didn't voice this opinion, however. I just bowed to their professional knowledge.
I know the school is concerned about safety. That's legitimate. But I am concerned about Munchkin getting the message that she can growl, kick, spit, and bite her way out of any unpleasant situation. All she has to do is scare the adults and they'll bow to her wishes.
That is one side of this dilemma. The other side is that I need to be more independent of the caseworker and the therapists involved in this situation. I need to fully take on my role as Munchkin's parent. I don't need this much help. I have my own support systems. I can handle this, with the help of God and the people that I trust in my own life. I didn't realize how much power I have as a foster parent. These decisions are mostly mine to make. I don't need input from a zillion different people - I am asking for approval far too much, and it is essentially an effort to put others in control of my life and Munchkin's life
It comes down to this: Am I going to parent this kid or not? Do I want to do it or do I want others to do it? Time to stand up.
…if you've recently become used to going to bed at 10:30 or 11:30, it's not worth staying up for. No movie is.
But man, it was cool to watch Black Mamba and California Mountain Snake fight it out. I especially love the part where Black Mamba plucks out Cali's other eye and then Cali's thrashing around on the floor. It's frickin hilarious. Watching those chicks fight made me want to be thin LOL.
In other news, Mr. Wrong is back. Why can't I shake this bad habit? What is wrong with me? A better question might be - what is the payoff? Sponsor says it is a distraction. I have a lot of hard work to deal with when it comes to munchkin and that trial date is looming. Both of these things are very troubling. My usual way of doing things is to find a fantasy to live in instead of looking for and executing solutions.
I could sit here and go, oh well there must be some COSMIC connection, and THAT'S why this has been going on for three or four years now. But I know that's a bunch of crap. I know the real reason is that there is some payoff. I wish I could say that I believe in cosmic connections. But the truth is that I no longer do. I used to be far more romantic, but now I feel like all that melodramatic stuff is a bunch of bullsh*t.
But, more than anything, I do wish that I had a special someone to share munchkin's hills and valleys with, someone to talk to about her problem. I sometimes wish I didn't have to do it alone…
But wait, I'm not alone. I have friends who are more than willing to let me share my problems with them. I have people who are more than willing to talk to me about things. What's up with this whining? There's no reason I can't handle this. Good God. The world is not ending just because I don't have someone to rescue me from it! I don't need to be rescued. I know how to solve these problems!
I remember growing up and my mom using her cast iron skillet and raving about how wonderful it was. I would look at that thing and think, how could that possibly be wonderful? It looks horrible, weighs a ton, and everything bloody well sticks to it!
But now I know the wonders of cast iron. It is the ultimate non-stick surface. My mom's mistake? Washing it with soap.
My recent flirtation with cast iron (and this is not a food blog so I don't know why I'm talking about it. I just felt like it. It's my blog. I can do that.) began recently when I was browsing some links at FrugalForLife (www.frugalforlife.com). One of the links is for products sold to the Amish. And one of those links then led me to an article about why cast iron is awesome.
I was also excited when I went to a local kitchen products store and found a universal pan lid! It fits any pan from 10 inches to 12 inches! Very cheap too. I think it was something like $10.00.
The Wonders of Cast Iron
1. Cast iron is cheap.
2. Cast iron lasts forever. My experience bears this out - my mom has cast iron that's older than me.
3. Cast iron might just stop a bullet if held in front of your chest or other appendage at the proper moment. Useful if you live in the hood.
4. You can use any utensils you want with it. No babying this stuff!
5. It is the ULTIMATE 'non-stick' surface. You season it with vegetable oil by giving it a light coating and then baking your pan at a high temp in your oven for a while. Poof! Non-stick. To keep it that way, don't use soap when you wash it. That's right. No soap. No, it's not gross. When you store it, give it a light, light coating with non-stick spray. Also, do not put it in the dishwasher. The non-stick chemicals never flake off into your food, and if it loses its seasoning, it's easy to re-season it.
6. A cast iron skillet applied with force to the head of burglar or other perp will stop them in their tracks.
7. I mentioned it lasts forever, right?
8. No non-stick chemicals seeping into your food.
9. Can be used on the stove AND in the oven!
10. Will not warp easily. Ever had a pan get warped? Pain in the a*s.
11. Even heat distribution.
12. Uses less energy! What you used to have to use 'high' for on your stove with a normal pan, you can use 'medium' for with cast iron.
I guess I have to mention the cons…
1. it's heavy.
2. doesn't heat quickly or cool slowly. Better get to know your skillet and your stove.
3. Yeeeeah….no dishwasher for this one.
4. Not a very substantial handle -- Bit of a problem when your skillet weighs that much. Solution - Kitchenaid's silicon handle grabber things.
That's about it. Not bad for something that'll outlive YOU.
So recently I have felt out of whack. Munchkin was out of control and so was I.
Today however is a new day. The whole day yesterday went well - Munchkin behaved, I behaved. Same thing today. Yay! : )
She even got dressed and made her bed when I told her to. Miracles do happen!
I don't have control over her actions but I think that it helps that my attitude has changed in these past two days and so now all of a sudden things are going well. I conduct myself differently as a parent and therefore, she reacts differently.
I am just feeling all around better. It could be that I was in a 'sugar depression' and that colored everything, I'm not sure. But I think we are going to try sugar-free syrup, just in case. A program friend of mine suggested it. She said that when we eat less sugar, it affects us even more when we dabble in it. Kind of like building up a tolerance to alcohol. The more you drink, the more you need to get the effects.
Remember that delicious breakfast that V cooked for Edie in V for Vendetta? And then her gay friend also cooked it for her? And then Parliament blew up? It's called Eggy in the Basket and it's awesome. I resurrected my small cast iron skillet and made it last night. Realllllly simple greasy morning deliciousness. Yum. I think right now that I'd have breakfast at every meal of the day. I'm on a real breakfast kick right now.
Eggy in the Basket
Ingredients:
- 1 slice of bread, your choice. You'll want something substantial. I used cheap wheat bread, but I think I'm going to try something different next time…like perhaps some potato bread or Italian bread.
- 1 medium egg - depends on your bread. Are you using cheap wheat or white? Then you need a medium egg, because it'll fit in your bread. But if you are using something more substantial, you could probably get away with a large egg.
- 1 tsp butter
Salt & pepper to taste
1. Cut a hole out of your bread…about the size of a tennis or handball. Not a science, I have read. ;o)
2. Butter one side of your bread.
3. Melt the butter or whatever in your skillet on medium.
4. Put your bread in the pan, buttered side up.
5. Break your egg into the hole. Or if you detest that yolky taste, break your egg into a bowl, whisk, and THEN pour into your bread.
6. Let egg 'set' into bread. Check it occasionally to see how it's doing.
7. Carefully turn it over (egg will be runny on top).
8. Cook until you think it's perfectly done.
Voila! Five or ten minutes tops for the whole thing. I saw somewhere else online where someone added some dill. I might try that, but this is good enough for me right now. :o) Cheap and filling, peeps!
I felt pretty miserable this weekend. I spent almost the whole time running from my feelings, trying to avoid them however I could.
I feel that I must reach out for help, but I keep reaching out to food instead of people and God.
I feel overwhelmed and frustrated and I am going back to old methods of coping instead of turning to my friends, turning to God, using the tools of the program, to deal with my problems.
I'm not taking time out for myself, not getting sitters, just assuming that people do not want to help and do not have time. I'm trying to do it all by myself, and so, of course, it's not working. Sometimes I don't even want to accept help when it's offered. Some of my friends want to spend time with me, some of them want to do things with me, but I turn down their offers and would rather be alone. Not productive.
It's because I'd rather walk around in a fog and not feel anything than spend time with people. I can't ignore a person that's right in front of me. I can't tell them to go play, can't just entertain an adult…adults can tell you're not all there, they can tell that you're not in the moment, and they tend to get a little insulted when you do that right in front of their faces. It's best not to have them around when you want to be foggy. You have to be in the moment, in the present, when there's a fully-perceptive, healthy adult nearby.
Yet again I learn that food does not serve me. At all. It makes pain last longer, augments existing frustration, lengthens the period of time spent in misery while problems are not being solved, but instead are being infinitely perpetualized so as to keep one in a state of mental agony.
I hope to end it today. I need to get honest. I need to reach out, get up, shake it off, and try again.
And it's Nick Lachey's shameless _P.O.S._ CD, where he aims to make money from his divorce by writing songs that shamelessly sell out his personal life, titled: "What's Left of Me".
Accept or Decline.
I think Decline.
Sadness
It's going to be a beautiful day out today -- the high today will be somewhere in the 80s. Today, this equated to a beautiful morning.
But not inside my apartment.
At first it seemed like things were going to be awesome today. Munchkin got up, got dressed, and made her bed all before she came to ask me if she could watch TV. Yes! The strategy worked!
Then I got up and did my thing, and was trying to find a way to do Munchkin's hair without it hurting her toward the end of the day. I figured something out and got her to let me do her hair. Yay!
Then, I told Munchkin that I didn't know if she was going to have visit today because Mommy is still sick. All of a sudden, it was a stay at home day, according to her, and she didn't want to go to school. I felt like a huge ogre this morning because I had to practically drag her into the school this morning….in front of all the kids sitting there eating breakfast. Ugh. Someone finally came and took her to breakfast and then she didn't say goodbye or I love you to me, she just went. I don't think I could reasonably expect more than that from her.
I keep thinking…what could I have done differently? I could have set this morning up to be a better one…she picked out her own clothes this morning, which means she ended up wearing her dirty khaki capris from yesterday and wouldn't change out of them. Oh well, I thought, could be worse. At least she's wearing pants. I hate the idea that someone might think that there's some other reason she's wearing those.
Like that her foster mother doesn't care enough about her to wash her clothes. Believe me, after all the stories of children dying in foster care, foster care has a very bad name. Even I don't think much of foster homes, though fostering is exactly what I'm doing right now. There is a definite stigma attached to foster care and being a foster parent. People wonder, I think, how many children you have at home in cages with straw and a food bowl at the bottom. Or how many rolls of duct tape you have at home to keep those kids in line. God it makes me sick just thinking about things that those children have had to suffer.
I hope Munchkin's day gets better today. I feel so bad for her. She seems to be in so much torment during these visit days and their aftermath and I just ache for her. Whether it's because she wants to live with Mommy or she doesn't want to live with Mommy, I can't tell. I'm no mind reader. And I don't wish to speculate. In the past, I'd probably have said things like, "Well I'm sure it's because she doesn't want to live with her Mommy! She wants to live with ME!" But nowadays, if something like that escaped my lips, I'd probably gasp at how self-serving, arrogant, and gauche it is to pass that judgment…to act like I can read Munchkin's thoughts.
Butt Vomit
Anyone who read the title of this section of the post was probably like, "Dude, I'm outta here." But trust me, it's not gonna be gross.
One person whose thoughts I do not need to read to understand them, though, is her mother's. Sister called me Tuesday to warn me that she might not be able to have visit on Wednesday, even though all she had was diarrhea.
"Well, we don't need to worry about Wednesday till it gets here, do we? I mean, you might be just fine by tomorrow, if you take some immodium."
No real reply to that statement.
Not surprisingly, Wednesday was cancelled. Hence the weeping from Munchkin. When I got that call on Tuesday, it had a feeling of dishonesty to it…of wanting to cancel the visit, and diarrhea happened pop up, which helped with that want. I don't think she's lying about diarrhea.
Last night, a text about how sick she still is.
ME: U feel really guilty about cancelling visits, don't U?
HER: Extremely. :`(
ME: That doesn't make sense, does it? If ur sick, ur sick.
ME: As long as ur being honest w/urself, nothing to feel guilty about.
HER: Usually I'd just med myself up or have Dr F call something in & have visit anyway, but can't this time. I feel so bad about it all.
ME: Why not?
HER: @ visit, D likes to sit on me, likes 2 be near me. What if I get her sick? What if I suddnely gotta go really bad? I don't do humiliation well.
ME: Tell her at the start of visit that she can't do that because Mommy is sick. Wash ur hands and keep hers washed - no germs will pass along.
ME: and if you take some meds, no germs will be available via their chosen exit, so no one will get sick.
HER: I'm gonna call the Dr's office now.
So basically, she had been content to be sick and avoid visits that way. She wasn't taking any meds to help stop the illness.
This reminds me of when I used to look forward to being sick so that I wouldn't have to go to work. I used to look forward to doctor appointments because that was time away from work that I could 'legally' take. It is the same thing.
And normally, I'd be fine with that. But not when it upsets D so much. I don't think it's likely that she'll get sick. Supposedly, it is better for D when her mom cancels visits because that weakens her mom's case against termination of her rights, which is supposed to be better for D in the long run. I don't think her mom can raise her, but it is awfully hard to watch D be so sad when her mom cancels visits. I don't think it's fair to her. D is already torn enough and what is the message she gets when her mom cancels visits? I don't know exactly what it is, but I don't believe it's a good message.
Mystery Texts
This morning I got another Mystery Text. This one? "Have a fantastic day" and where did it come from? Supposely my *own* number. Dude, I didn't get up at 7:15 and send myself a test. I can guarantee you that one. Weird. But pleasant nonetheless, I suppose.
