Motivation

I am signed up to receive daily motivational emails because I'm trying to live peacefully and positively*. I think I signed up with two sites, actually. And you know what? Sometimes I get a quote that I really like and share with my friend, Tits, and other times I start to nod off mid paragraph. I evidently like my motivation and inspiration to come in snippet form. What does that say about me? That I'm highly unmotivated? How am I going to succeed in my life, reach that brass bar, and take life by the short hairs if I can't even get through four lines of inspiration?

"The primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but your thoughts about it." ~ Eckhart Tolle

That's what I like in my daily motivational emails, not a seven line metaphor about how I need to steer my own battleship or whatever. And I almost never look up the person being quoted. That Eckhart Tolle blurb up there? That's legit, came from one of my daily emails, and is written on a post-it note on my computer monitor. I don't know who the hell Eckhart Tolle is. I don't even know how to pronounce that shit and in my head it is Eck-heart Toll (like toll booth) although I prefer it to sound like Esh-hurt Tolly.  I'm less concerned with the pronunciation of his name than I am with the fact that someone named their kid Eckhart. And I'm just assuming Eckhart is a man's name.

I think I may be doing inspirational wrong.

I'm also doing parts of adulthood wrong. I picked a name out of a book when I needed a specialist here in the state where the stars are big and bright. So far I have had very, very few positive experiences with the office staff. I had to call and ask about having my super special prescription called in because that didn't appear to be a given. And then I had to explain to the person who answered the phone that yes, I had spoken to the doctor about it and that yes, we were trying something new. Eventually, they called it in. Today I called to say "What's up? I totes called last month to have my prescription called in but now I found out my insurance won't cover it and so I need something else." The jerk literally made me hold while she did whatever and came back and said "I'm sorry, there is no generic version of this drug." No shit, bitch! Maybe, instead of making an assumption and putting me the fuck on hold, you should have asked me what the issue was because my health insurance covers the god damned drug, just not in the dosage that had been prescribed.

She's going to check with the doc and get back to me. At the time of this writing, it has been 3.5 hours since I called.

And like I said, most of my experiences with this place have been negative but I'm too lazy to find a new specialist, even though this one is on the outer tier of my health plan's happiness or whatever and so costs me the biggest copay. But I'm all "meh, I have FSA" and just keep going instead of finding myself a nice university hospital based specialist.

Speaking of being an adult, I call bullshit. I'm essentially 33.5 years old but every so often, stupid teenage shit pops up. Not angsty shit or petty girlfriend fights or anything like that. No, these days it is all about being B-O-R-E-D. Read a book? I don't want to (and you know I like to read). Go for a walk? Fuck you and the giant swarm of mosquitoes you rode in on (especially the ones that are gnawing on me like I'm made out of sugar.) Why is it that everything costs so god damned much? What is there to do? I live in a real state with a real big city just a few miles away but every so often I get stuck in a rut where I want to go and do something but all I can think of are the following:

• Go out to eat. Money
• Go get a drink. Money
• Go buy shit. Money.
• Put on my big girl brass balls and drive to the city to go to a museum or something. Money + the terror of driving in a city (any city) + no one to go with me for company/moral support as I'm sure the Bat would fucking laugh at me if I suggested it.
• Go to the movies. Money. Besides, who wants to go sit through a movie in a theatre that is overpriced when you can just rent shit and watch it at home and take breaks to pee or smoke or whatever without missing anything? That and I have Netflix so I can just start binging on shows I've never seen before (like I did with Breaking Bad as soon as it fucking ended). 

That's all I can come up with. Tonight, I actually changed out of my work clothes (a dress) because I thought I'd maybe go chill at a bar across the street and write in my journal and work on this blog entry. But then I thought better of it (READ: couldn't justify the expense) so ended up going to the library to borrow some books (and pay the fine I knew I had [staggering buck forty]) and then went to Target where I picked up 1: a face mask, 2: a brush to brush Bubbles, and 3: a six pack of Shiner Bock because damn it, I'm tired of Miller Light. Then I came home, went to the bathroom, and asked the Bat if he had any bleach because last night Monkey tried to bath Temp, the newest doggy addition to the Bat Cave, and although the Monkey picked out the pieces of shit, that was it and I don't want to shower standing on skid marks (I'll still wear throw away sandals when I shower later though.). 

So what the fuck do grown ups who don't want to pay out the ass do for fun? Because my shit is lame right now. 

Probably because I'm not taking a good grip on the wheel of my battleship.

*I'll get back to you when I've decided if it's working... I think I've been signed up for this motivational shit for months now. 

When Weekends are Awesome

I've mentioned before that I hate when people ask me if I have plans for the weekend or, come Monday, how my weekend was. Usually I don't have plans and I don't really do anything that I consider noteworthy so I always feel kind of embarrassed (why? Who the hell is judging me for not really doing anything on my weekends? Stupid brain). But this weekend, I actually did stuff. Lots of stuff! Not really noteworthy but I was super productive and so I give you:

What I Did Over the Weekend - a Review
Friday
OK, Friday was a work day so that was how I spent the bulk of the day. But I left at 2PM because I wanted to avoid terrible traffic as being in my car for long stretches of time was killing my back (which is all better I'm pleased to say). But that evening, the Monkey had two friends over and the Bat had his cousin Rosie and her boyfriend Heartburn over for dinner. It was a blast and a half. The grown ups (well, I think everyone but me) had stew and sat around and chatted, eventually going to the garage to sit and chat whilst listening to some music. I got suckered into taking Monkey and her friends to the shoe store for a 30 minute gander at shoes, but for the most part, it was just chill. Rosie is, I believe, about 22 or 23 and she works at a car parts store and knows a shit ton about cars. She, too, is from California originally, and has been in Texas for two years I believe. She and her boyfriend, Heartburn are engaged. I gave him this nickname because he recently had open heart surgery to replace or place a valve (I think he was born without one so they had to put in a pig valve). He's only 28 but man oh man. I forget about it when we hang out, but he can't lift anything or walk for long stretches yet. Still getting back to normal poor guy.

Saturday
As it was the weekend, the Bat made breakfast Saturday morning (potatoes and spicy sausage to be wrapped up in tortillas). We were both up fairly early so I sat and drank coffee whilst reading CNN as he made the breakfast. I also decided to start playing Call of Duty because I want to work on my hand eye coordination and I sometimes feel like I'm missing out by not playing popular video games (cultural. zeitgeist). So, so suck at COD but will get better with practice. Even on the easy level I get killed pretty quickly. I did kill 34 zombies and last 4 rounds the other day though.

Once the girls were up, they had breakfast and lounged around, Monkey cleaning the kitchen as I cleaned the Bat's bathroom as both a thank you for breakfast and out of necessity because I seem to be the only one who cares about having a clean bathroom. The Bat had to go to one of his buildings to make an access card and so he left the girls with me while I continued to straighten up and clean a bit. There was a playoff football game and I'm not exaggerating when I say they took 90 minutes to get ready. Monkey started fussing and worrying about her dad being home in time to take them at 12PM. They didn't have to leave until 1:30PM and I think they just had to go to the school so I could have taken them. But I remember that needless anxiety as a teenager so can't really fault her.

The Bat and I were supposed to go to Rosie and Heartburn's shop that afternoon but Rosie was super sick. After calling another friend who was also sick, the Bat and I decided to go to Macy's so I could finally buy him his birthday present. His actual day was the seventh and I took him to dinner but it was like pulling teeth trying to get him an actual present. He decided he wanted a nice outfit because he'd like to dress better when not at work so I said okey dokey, let's do this and off we went. He is now the proud owner of a nice pair of trousers, a really great dark green button down, and a soft off white sweater. Oh, and a tie. Because you may as well have one.

I don't know if it was on a lark or a whim or what but we ended up going to Dreamers afterwards. What's Dreamers you ask? A 24 hour adult novelty store located about 1/4 mile from where my ex boyfriend lives. The Bat and I actually went there on our second date but hadn't been back. I wanted to find something fun to wear (ended up getting something too small) and the Bat wanted to look into other stuff, which I won't go into. But it's always fun when you go there because if you need to try stuff on or just use the bathroom, you have to get the key from the cashier (who also has to buzz you into the shop) and the key is attached to a plastic case that you see around DVDs at Barnes & Noble. The bathroom is actually pretty nice though. And Dreamers is literally next door to another 24 XXX shop, which sucks. Well, we didn't check it out this time, but we did on our second date, and they had pretty much NOTHING other than some DVDs and, I suppose, a movie room (I could be wrong, I wasn't there for that). Just kind of odd. Ye Olde Terrible Sex Shoppe next to Pretty Killer Did You Know They Have Disposable Cock Rings Sex Shoppe.

You can use your imagination as to the rest of the evening. I even did laundry. Just reread this and that sounds like I did laundry based on other activities I participated in. No, I just happened to do some laundry.

Sunday
Sundays are usually pretty chill for the most part but the weather was really warm and the Bat wanted to work on his yard. I went for a run whilst he fixed his lawn mower and then we both cleaned up his garden, removing all bits of plastic and trash in preparation for tilling. I even got to use the machete to hack at the roots of tomatoes so as to remove the metal caging bits. Oh, and I got to use the drill when we took down the fence. The yard looks pretty good now with half of the garden tilled (with more tilling needed before any planting; we are considering planting winter veggies).

That afternoon we finally made it over to Rosie and Heartburn's shop where I needed to change my oil. First, Rosie showed me how to do it on her car, then she guided me as I did it all on my own for mine. Mine is really easy because the filter is pretty much right on top of the oil dealie that has the bolt/screw you have to remove. I'm weak as a guppie so I had to use a tool to get the filter off (and to get it back on because just because I can't turn it does not mean it is tight enough) but it was dead easy. I got messy, of course, but I didn't care and Rosie was sweet and told me that the first time she did it she was absolutely covered. It was fun and really rewarding and I'm so, so, so stoked that I know how to do this now. I've told pretty much everyone I know about it.

Rosie and Heartburn came back with us to the Bat Cave for pizza and beer and television in the garage. Like Friday night, the Bat and I ended up chilling alone in the garage for awhile after they'd left. At one point he said something along the lines of "oh, I'm really happy you're in my life at this point in time" or something. It's adorable the way he says things like that because it's almost like he sets a reminder on his phone telling him "time to say something sweet to her". I know he means it, as I've said, as he wouldn't lie to me or patronize me. It's just funny how obligatory it sounds. But it's also very touching that he does it because he knows I (and girls like me) really like hearing those things.

After the season premier of Being Human, we both took a shower. I was absolutely filthy from my run, the garden work, and changing my oil. There is only one working shower in the Bat Cave and it is in the Monkey's bathroom. The Bat and I haven't showered together in awhile but we did last night and it was fine and we kissed but we honestly didn't get up to anything rated beyond PG. However, the Bat likes to take a shower with extremely hot water before ending it with frigid water. I admit that we made some weird sounds when he turned the faucet to freezing but still. I only mention this because once I was out of the shower and was in the hallway, I could hear Monkey saying to her (boy?)friend "I can hear my dad and his girlfriend!" Dude, we weren't doing anything. I don't like to do anything when I know she's awake because I'm terrified of her walking in (which she's never done) and I don't like making too much noise when she's home (which is why the Bat moved his bed and why I keep meaning to jam a pillow between the headboard and the wall). It's weird for a kid to hear her dad getting it on. I respect that. I'm not about to hump in the shower at freaking 8:30PM.

And then bed. All in all I had an incredibly productive weekend of chores and setting up a work station (read: connecting my laptop to a separate monitor so I can work more comfortably in the Cave) and hanging out with decent people. Going back to work is a bitch. But I will go back to the Bat Cave afterwards and that is a reward in itself. Bonus points for having the rescheduled dance lesson with the Bat this evening.

Here's hoping my week is somehow as rad as my weekend. I'm really liking this life of mine. 

Mending the cracks

I had a bit of a nervous collapse yesterday and ended up spending the day at home, on the couch, watching episodes of Nero Wolfe and occasionally crying and shaking. It was no fun, obviously, and I was ruined for the day, totally incapable of doing anything. If I wasn't on the couch I was in bed reading. Someone knocked, loudly, on my door and I almost had a panic attack. I lay very still, trying to control my breathing, waiting for them to go away. Then I got up and shut my bedroom door to have an added layer of protection between me and the world.

The reason this happened is pretty basic and can be summed up by blaming it on "life". The specific factors involved are MS, my separation from J, and Manager. That should be enough without my going into it. I will, eventually, but I'm not exactly Miss Mental Wellness 2012 right now, although I'm far better than I was yesterday. So instead of talking about the specifics of what brought me so close to the edge of sanity, I thought I'd share the two things that helped me get through the day.

The first is short and incredibly sweet and is due to Boss who said the following in an email to me:

"As I tell my daughter - now is the perfect time to make a clean sweep of bygones and what could have beens and go forward and enjoy what life has to offer because you deserve so much more than what has been dealt to you up until this point."

Tell me you wouldn't be loyal as fuck to a woman like that?

The second is courtesy of my friend Hunter, who made me laugh throughout the day by chatting with me on and off and telling me about his birthday (which it was yesterday). I'm not going to go into it because I haven't been able to figure out the best way to put the story into words in order to have you grasp the hilarity, but I did want him to know just how thankful I am. I will say, however, that it involves an annual physical exam. Hunter knew how fucked up I was and so he graciously shared an embarrassing moment in his life (and one he goes through every year on his birthday) while I laughed uproariously and had to keep trying to smother myself so neighbors wouldn't hear. I only wish he kept a fucking blog so he could tell his own story as I don't know that I'd get it right.

I've said before that I am incredibly lucky and grateful to have the friends and loved ones that I do. Boss, who is a good friend and former employer, and Hunter, who is hands down my best friend, fall into those categories, friends and loved ones. Not only were they incredibly kind to me whilst I was freaking out, they made me feel like it was OK that it was happening, and offered me support in their own way. Boss offered me encouragement and love. Hunter offered me laughter and a way to pull me out of myself just long enough to perk up and feel a bit more like my old self.

I don't know if I'll get back to my old self exactly, although I expect I will do so. But continual support and hilarious stories are the best medicine I think I've ever had. And fortunately for me, I have a lot of people who offer me their support and I'm pretty sure that between Hunter and J, I'll never be without laughter.

And now I have to start relying on myself again and I have to take myself in hand. I have to get out of bed (it is 11:10 after all) and take a shower. I have to go to the cable company and drop off my cable box, which I should have done last week.  I have to play with Johan and make sure he is happy and OK. I have to start going through the motions of life again and stop just laying around indulging myself. $10 says I make it to the cable company and then shutter myself back in my apartment huddled in bed.
 

Stupid Little Things

Johan had a lot of trouble getting into his cage tonight. When it was past time for him to be back, he was under the rolling pantry, laying down in the sort of posture that looked like a bored and sad animal with nothing to do. He couldn't seem to figure out how to get up his ramp and into his cage. He's had that in the past, more so recently, and I do think it might be because I moved his cage and he is under the ceiling fan so maybe the smells being wafted about confused him.

But I take him very seriously. I have a piece of paper in my wallet these days directing emergency staff, should I be in a horrible accident, to either call Boss or J, give them my house key and address (both old and new are listed with dates of when I'll be where) and to please have them take him to his vet and have him boarded because I don't want him to be left alone. The idea of his dying is, of course repellant, and it has been on my mind because I had to ask J.

I had to ask J, "do you want me to notify you if Johan dies?"

And because I've emailed that question, I let my imagination run rampant with what will happen when Johan goes. He's 3 years old now and guinea pigs live, on average, 4 to 5 years. Some live longer but you have to be prepared. All I know is that I will be a mess, I will have to stay home from work if it is a week day, and I will be in shambles.

These are ridiculous and painful things you have to think about as an adult. And I hate it.

UPDATED
Transcript of the very brief email correspondence regarding Johan.

From Me to J:

"Do you want me to let you know if Johan dies? He's just over 3 years old and the expected life is 4-5 years. He really struggled with getting back into his cage, like he couldn't remember how and it took forever. This doesn't necessarily mean anything but it's been on my mind to ask you if you wanted to know.

I'm hoping he was just confused by smells because of the ceiling fan."

From J to Me:

"He's fat.  He can't even get back in his pig jail."

And that is seriously all he said on the matter. It's a good thing though, because it means he is OK to talk to me now, or at least better than he was. Because he knew damn well what kind of response that would elicit (namely me cyber yelling at him about how the pig is NOT fat and the cage is NOT pig prison and Johan LIKES his cage).

Jokes on him though. I totally texted him a picture of the pig.