Ooooooow. My dignity.......

That's got to be one of the funniest lines I've ever heard, courtesy of my 12 yr old son. We were playing WWE wrestling, and I totally took him down with a leg-lock and then pinned him good. His response? "Ooooooooow! My dignity!" I laughed until I couldn't breathe. That kid is so f'ing hilarious.

So here's the deal: Life has got me in a half-nelson, and I'm thisclose to getting totally pinned for the count. Hopefully I can find a way to kick out, but it's looking a little grim today.

I lost my job a couple weeks ago. I made a relatively minor mistake, which supposedly caused two other employees to make a bigger mistake. There were huge extenuating circumstances surrounding the whole thing, and basically I became the corporate scapegoat.

Am I pissed? Hell yes. I can't believe one coworker in particular threw me under the bus to save herself. I'm pissed because the day I made my mistake I was totally overworked and overwhelmed, and my supervisor knew it. I'd worked a full day of overtime, plus the whole weekend, putting me on day 9 of a 12-day stretch. I cried at lunch that day, telling my supervisor I'd hit the wall because I was so exhausted and overworked. I even posted something similar on Facebook that morning. Then I went back to my office and wrote ONE SENTENCE in the communication book that, a month later, ended my career. FUCK.

So now I'm looking for a job. Hopefully I'll qualify for unemployment so that I can continue to feed my family and keep a roof over our heads while I'm searching. I gotta tell ya, people: there's not much out there for LPNs these days. At least nothing equitable to my former position and salary. So I'm also pissed at myself for letting my dream job slip away.

Mike has been fabulous through all this. The first thing he did was remind me that we've been through this before. He reminded me that when I lost that job at the crappiest home care company on earth, my solution was to wallow in drunken self-pity for a month, clean up long enough to get a new job, and then start drinking again. That's right. I just stayed drunk for a whole month and did NOTHING. Mike pointed out that this time is so very different: we're sober, we're smarter, and we're better-off financially. We can weather this together. I'm so glad I've got him... his calm and easy-going manner keeps me from flying off the handle in a freakish frenzy. Just as I start to escalate, he gently pulls me back from the edge. He just allows me to BE, whatever that may look like at the moment.

Do I think about drinking? Yeah, when I'm feeling sorry for myself I miss my old friends, Jagermiester and Shiraz. They got me through some tough times. However, they also made life a lot worse because they allowed me to just not deal with shit.

Feeling hurts. Some days feeling stuff really sucks. But drinking it away is so not worth it to me.

So I'm staying sober, continuing my recovery, continuing to pursue my RN, desperately searching for a job, and continually trying to figure out the next right thing to do.

One day at a time. Progress, not perfection. Let go and let God. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. All those AA slogans that I used to mock mercilessly..... today they are mine, they have meaning, and they bring peace and comfort. My Higher Power will help me get through this HUGE bump in the road.

Wish me luck, friends, and pray for me if you're into that.

Peace out.

Uuuuuuuh.

1. Wow, my profile pic sucks ass. I'll have to try to find a better one.

2. Yesterday, on my way home from work, I saw a frightful, strange, sad, yet hilarious sight.

There was a couple on the sidewalk, and both of them were probably tipping the scales at a quarter-ton or more. I'm not sure exactly how they were walking without breaking their ankles under the sheer weight. I guess it was good they were trying to walk, at least.

But I digress.

These two people were not alone. Oh, no. They had a small child with them, probably about two years old. I think it was a girl. Cute kid. This child was sporting a very unfortunate fashion accessory: a pink harness and leash.

That's right, you heard me: the poor kid was ON A LEASH. A bright pink LEASH.

Once the initial shock wore off, I alternately felt disgusted and amused. Waves of nausea followed by fits of evil laughter.

Okay, I get why the baby was on a leash. Hi, we're a rotund couple, and were somehow blessed with a healthy, active, curious toddler. We need exercise, and we're gonna try walking. We'd like to take the kid out to enjoy the sunshine, but we have some concerns. If she starts running, we're both screwed because neither of us will ever catch her. EVER. And, if she biffs it, neither of us can bend down far enough to pick her up to comfort her and kiss away her boo-boos. HEY.... if we put her on a leash, she can't run away! And if she biffs it, we can just hoist her up into our moist, doughy arms with the leash! Problem solved! Now, how are we going to get our tennis shoes tied?

Then, there's the other side of the coin. The humiliation and restriction of being on a leash. Trying to exercise those chubby toddler legs, chasing a butterfly, only to be yanked back by cruel disappointment in the form of a pink webbed nylon harness. DENIED. Stopping and bending down to pick a dandelion from a sidewalk crack, only to be dragged to an upright position and forced to move along like a puppy sniffing a fire hydrant. Fun, leisure and life in general passing you by at the age of two.

Oh, the years of therapy awaiting this poor child. And not just because of the leash. I'm not sayin', I'm just sayin'.

Of course, as all this ran through my head, there was the horrible undercurrent repeating itself in my head and inducing bubbles of insensitive chuckling: "Bark! Bark! Bark!"

I'm doing it!

I'm going back to school to get my RN! (What did you think I meant, you perverts?)

I start my first class in June. I'm equally excited and scared shitless. Failing is not an option, nor is lollygagging, procrastinating, or half-assing. I will be dedicated to this program for the next year or so, until I get my ASN and pass my state boards.

After that? More responsibility, more autonomy, more credibility, better pay.

My family is totally on board with this. Thankfully, it won't be like when I got my BA at Bethel: "Oh, sure! we'll help you around the house! We'll give you time to study!" Shya, that was a dirty lie. This time, though, I know my man is committed to helping me get through the next year. He already takes care of most of the housework, and he's even helping me pay for school. He's vowed to help me in any way possible. I have no worries at this point!

So wish my luck and shoot up some prayers for me... I'm jumping in with both feet!

I got OWNED.

Yep, I totally got owned. By Fibromyalgia. Poopy dumb disease.

I had two week-long flares in three weeks. Extremely painful. Muscle and joint aches, debilitating fatigue, vertigo, the works. It was everything I could do to drag myself to work and try to hobble through my day without bursting into tears. I went home every night, fell asleep on the couch until Mike got home, then fell back asleep with my head on his lap until bedtime, and then crashed for the rest of the night. Luckily, both flares were during weeks when the kids were with their dad, so I had the luxury of crashing in peace.

Man, this disease completely kicked my ass like never before.

Why were these episodes so much worse than all the others I've lived through over the past eight years, you ask? I can answer without hesitation: BECAUSE I AM SOBER. A few months ago, when I started feeling the pain, I could just drink it away. Even Fibro doesn't hurt when you're hammered. So I just made a point of being hammered as often as possible to make the pain go away. Now I have no choice but to feel the pain in full and live through it. Did downing a few Jag Bombs to ease my misery cross my mind? You bet your ass it did. Did I succumb? Hell no! I worked my Program and hung in there. Yeah, I'm totally patting myself on the back here.

Of course, it wasn't all my spectacular willpower that got me through. It was also Mike's love, patience and care, his tireless rubbing of spastic feet, stiff neck and sore back, and his saintly listening skills while I whined, cried and complained. His quietly making dinner while I slept, waking me long enough to eat, and cleaning up after I crashed out again.

It also was my awesome doctor, finally coming up with a drug regimen that keeps me almost pain-free and able to function once again. Yay, modern medicine!

One fabulous side effect of my ordeal: since all I did was sleep when I was home, I lost six pounds instantly. Now I'm back to my fighting weight. Bonus!

Okay, I gotta ask: when you read the subject line, did you gleefully scroll down, hoping that I took a massive wipeout and lived to tell about it, complete with pictures? You evil people... you totally did.

Sorry to disappoint. Better luck next time.

It's Official!

As of April 1st, Mike officially moved in with us.

It shouldn't be a huge deal, because we've spent almost every waking moment together for the past 2+ years, but somehow it kinda is.

Our relationship somehow feels a little more permanent with his name on the lease. It sounds silly, I know. I mean, we both know our relationship is already permanent. Yet somehow we feel a little more settled, a little more domestic, a little more comfortable than we felt on March 31st. Like I said, silly, I know.

I'm really happy. The complete absence of drama in our life together is wonderful. Our almost freakish compatibility rocks my world. For the first time, I'm in a relationship where every single piece fits. And I'm not kidding, not exaggerating. We fit together in a way I never thought possible.

Life is unbelievably, ridiculously, fabulously perfect right now. I wouldn't change a thing.

Awesome.

Happy Birthday To Me!

That's right, bitches. It was my birthday yesterday. A lady never tells how old she is, but I'm no lady.

I am officially 41. But inside I feel about 25. And I look damn good for my age.

Mike made me a steak dinner, and my youngest daughter made me a marble birthday cake. It was her first home-made cake, and it was a super difficult recipe, but she really wanted to try. She did an excellent job. She even made home-made frosting.

I got many lovely gifts and lots of flowers.

Then, to top everything off, I got an hour-long foot rub from my man.

Oh yeah..... birthdays rule!

Happy Easter!!!

Guess what I saw on Sunday???? Only the best Easter Surprise EVER!!!!

I was at an intersection, and what did I see driving up the sidewalk? A little old lady riding a Hoveround scooter. Wait, it gets better.

In the basket on the front of the scooter she had a bigass stuffed toy Easter Bunny... it must have been three feet high. She kinda had to peek over it to see. Wait, wait! I'm not done!

On the back of the scooter, secured with a bungee cord, was an identical giant Easter Bunny. Every time she went over a bump, the thing's head would flop wildly.

Man, I laughed my frickin' ass off!!! I actually purposely missed a few opportunities to turn so I could stay and laugh a little longer. I would've snapped a picture, but my phone was far out of reach.

The only thing that would've made this whole thing even more magically delicious would've been if the old lady's scooter tipped over and the Bunnies had gone flying.

Ah, the joys of Spring.....

FYI...

No more Dark and Dangerous. I've moved on to Light and Fun. I've changed my hair color yet again. I'd gone from deep burgundy red to dark eggplant violet. Last week I decided to go platinum blonde. Most people are liking it, a couple are hating it, but I love it and that's all that matters.

Big Kid update: the twins turned 21 last week! Heaven help me! My daughter is home for spring break, but doesn't spend much time at home. My son is in Las Vegas for a week with his girlfriend. I am quite jealous. I've never been to Vegas.

Little Kid Update: Awesome conferences at school, awesome efforts and progress in their coursework, and really trying to get along and be rational with each other.

I'm proud of all four of them.

Life with my partner is good. We're building a sober life together, and things just keep getting better.

I'm very proud of him, too.

Life is good. Light and Fun.

Stupid neighbor.

Can I just say that I hate my new neighbor with a passion???? I'd take a hundred sumosans over this one inconsiderate, loud, ghetto bitch.

Last weekend she was having a loud party. I waited until 11:30pm, and then I lost patience and banged on the ceiling with my broom handle. She and her homies shut up. Then, the next day, she called the apartment manager and said that Mike and I were having a loud domestic dispute in the middle of the night, complete with screaming and banging around. BITCH.

Luckily, I have a very good relationship with my super, and he knows me well. He knows she's a dirty nasty liar, and says that she's pissed him off several times in the couple weeks since she moved in. He asked me to call him each and every time she makes noise so he can gather ammo to get her evicted. I am happily complying. Funny, she's been very quiet for the last couple days...

The other day she started stomping on the floor over our heads when we were trying to have sex. Um, first of all, IT WAS NOT QUIET TIME. It was late morning. Second, we weren't even being loud! I called my super later that day and told him she was being an intolerant bitch. Now I'm even more dedicated to busting her chops every chance I get. How dare you ruin my sex?????

One morning, I heard her in her bathroom right above mine. It was about 6:30 AM, and she was obviously on the phone. I hear her ghetto voice yelling, "AH EXPECK YOU TO CAWL ME BACK WHEN I LEAVE YOU A MESSAGE AN AKS YOU TO CAWL ME BACK!!!" Um, yeah. Real nice. If you're the kind of bitch who starts leaving bitchy messages for people the second you get out of bed, before you even take your morning piss, you should be punched.

Please come back, Sumosan... you weren't so bad after all.

You may have noticed...

A new link under the "links" section of this blog. Operation Reclamation is a journal of sorts... Mike and I joined A.A. and are getting sober. This new blog is a journal of my side of this journey... it's probably the hardest one I've been on so far. You can read it if you want.