So, do you want the good news, the bad news or the status quo? Let's start with the good.
The Good News
I've landed a job. A great job. Yes, it's a contractor position, but this is different. There are benefits - even a 401k. The commute is brilliant (though me thinks not one I can bike to and from, but we'll see as I get stronger this year). It's for a company that I don't think is going anywhere - anyone ever hear of this little known beverage, "Pepsi?" Yeah. Pepsi. I know! I couldn't be happier! My boss is awesome. Our bosses are awesome. The stuff I do is awesome. Am I saying this because I'm new and someone from Pepsi may be reading this blog? You want me, expect me, to say, "Yes, duh." But the answer is, "NO!" I really mean it. (Ok, two flaws. First, I may end up a diabetic, as my friends, particularly my college friends, should remember I'm a cola addict. Second, I am only a contractor, which is kind of like being a Permanent Resident, but not a Citizen. It's fabulous, don't get me wrong, but I'd really like to be a permanent employee. But, maybe, someday, that will happen.)
My hammock is hung up. My summer last year was made most relaxing with the addition of a hammock. While last year's rope hammock rotted over the winter, it's been replaced by another. Next to the hammock I've also added a drink holder, as the cocktails need someplace to reside and not get knocked over.
Son got a job at the local nursery. Very happy for him.
My forget-me-nots are running wild. Literally. Which makes me so happy, as I've tried to grow them for years, and this year, they have taken off - so much so, they are growing like weeds in my yard, so I have to transplant them all over my rose and flower beds.
I have hair. I can officially pull it back into a ponytail. It's a teeny ponytail, I call it more of a bunnytail, but it's there.
Lots of hair. It officially hit my shoulder the other day. That is wicked cool. And it's curly. Not wavy, not with a bit of curl, I mean corkscrew from root to tip. I have a ridiculous Hebro. See below (and this is straightened out!).
|That's me in the middle. Well, from the hair roots up.|
The Bad News
I'm having an oopharectomy in the near future. Essentially, I'm getting spayed, which is going to turn me into a reclusive, territorial kitty with a penchant for sitting on open magazines and open window sills. At least, that's been my experience when I've witnessed other critters getting their ovaries removed. I'm not yet 40, and I'm being put into permanent menopause. For the good news to this procedure, see the last Good News.
Just to make things even more exciting, while my status is still officially NED, during the exam, which included a sonogram which prompted the technician to tell me I have a BEAUTIFUL uterus - hey, I'll take any compliment that comes my way, they saw a "something of no concern" on my right ovary. Why is it of no concern? Because the ovary is coming out anyway and it can be biopsied then. Here's the problem: When I had the mammogram, those innocent looking salt-crystal sized spots were "somethings of no concern" until I got the letter to come back for a follow up. Those spots that I was told would be nothing ended up not only being something, but a really bad something. So, I'm chalking off the "something of no concern" as "something to be terribly concerned about which I can't do a damned thing at the moment." I'm preparing for the worst just because preparing for the best got me a double mastectomy.
The IRS seems to have forgotten that they were not only in receipt of my 2009 taxes, but, if I recall, I even got a refund for 2009. So, now, I have to find my 2009 1040s and resend them. So, here's to hoping they don't decide they didn't get 2010, 2011 and, well, they acknowledge receipt of 2012, so I guess we're good. Actually, it's more amusing than bad, but it's a pain in the butt.
My children are adolescents. My son is 14. I think that's the most catastrophic news. I have a 14-year old boy. Save me. Somebody. And he attends a school with an administration run by morons and a school board reminiscent of an insane asylum - a most untrustworthy, corrupt, power-hungry group of stubborn asses. (Can I say that outloud? Yes, I can. It's my blog and I'll say what I want.) I've had to deal with them in the past, but now they have gone above and beyond all reason. I can't get into specifics, as much as I would love to, as there are open issues in the process of resolution, and by resolution, I mean they are giving themselves a platform upon which to pontificate the most ridiculous parallels and dictating the most absurd rules and regulations. I don't say that loudly. Some of you know all the details, some of you know this isn't the first time that I've come up against this administration of pathetic power mongers who clearly have to compensate for something by asserting authority in all the wrong places and ignoring the actual, hard issues.
My daughter is a willful pre-teen. She has my stubbornness, is too smart for her own good, and seems determined to drive me insane. And wear makeup to school behind my back.
Draco, the bearded dragon, died on Saturday. Funeral services will be Friday.
Had a most unpleasant experience happen with someone whom I've long admired for being a consummate professional. I've done business with them years and now, I wonder how I can.
I had to lock the chocolate chips in the safe to keep the kids from getting at the chocolate chips. I set the combination to the safe and made sure not to write it down anywhere in case someone found it. Now, I can't remember the combination and cannot figure out how to override the combination. So, now, I can't get at my chocolate.
My house is a money pit. Just as deal with a septic tank crisis, I have a water filter crisis. Now, I have a water pressure crisis.
Oh - shoot - I forgot - 4 foot long, 4-8" in diameter limb from our oak tree fell about 2-3 stories onto my head and neck yesterday. I was gardening with my daughter in the morning before taking care of stuff inside. She was next to me, and we were bent over planting bulbs. All of a sudden, there is a sharp pain on my neck, it feels like I've been hit by a baseball bat and I'm seeing black. Once I realize the object I assume my daughter must have smacked me with is still in front of me and my daughter is telling me that I'm bleeding. I stand up and look around. She points down at the limb, now in 3 pieces, and she tells me it fell from the tree. A concussion, a bandage and a bump the size of a grapefruit later, I'm hoping I'm clearheaded and recovered enough to be able to get behind the wheel. The problem? I have a 14-year old boy and a pre-teen daughter who have been driving me nuts today. Somehow, stress doesn't seem to be helping the concussion, as I've had headaches all day - and they are not from the skyfall.
The Status Quo
Some projects have been on hold because of the insanity of my life. My LIVESTRONG efforts are kicking in, though late this year. I'm in the process of opening May 19th's ROCK the RIDE & RUN registration. Painting class is going well, though we've missed the past couple of classes. I'm still trying to get to a point where I can ride again. Not there yet. I have my dress form, but I have yet to sew again.
I'm still feeling somewhat lost. The new job is fantastic, do not get me wrong. But, other than that, and my garden, I feel like I'm not getting anywhere, and I'm not sure why. Some of it is just that as much as I seem to I want to get things moving, I'm just not. This isn't like me. I mean, I can procrastinate, don't get me wrong, with the best of them. But something else is going on and I don't know what, which is just frustrating the bejeezus out of me. There is a lot going on with my kids, but I've just felt somewhat lost and foggy. I don't quite get it. I've been told this is kind of normal for survivors, but I just don't get it.
Anyway, there it is.