Whiner

Hello, my name is Ann and I'm a whiner.

I'm not a tonal whiner. My whining is not nasal, or high pitched. But it is whining nonetheless.

Readers, forgive me. Henceforth I will try not to wallow so much during "that time of the month." It might amuse you to know that as much as I complain on paper, I complain even more in my head.

Scott Peck has written that as soon as we let go of thinking that our suffering is unique; that our circumstances are different from others' and things Should Not Be This Way, life becomes easier, because we stop expecting it to be easy.

I think it's time to read The Road Less Travelled again.

Stability

I go for days and days lately feeling stable. Accepting challenges, rolling with the punches, feeling competent at work and balanced in my approach to life. I think about interests to pursue, and maybe making some changes in my diet.

And then in one weekend I feel like all that positive change has gone right out the window.

I missed just one Wellbutrin, on Friday afternoon. Saturday afternoon I was a mess. I was better by Saturday night, but this evening I messed up a shortcake for strawberry shortcake and I still haven't quite recovered.

I swear it's related to my menstrual cycle. What the hell is a woman my age still doing having regular periods? I ought to be so over this...I'm 45! But according to a website I read yesterday, the average age of onset of true menopause (as opposed to the warm-up known as perimenopause, with its reduced hormone levels, leeching of calcium from the bones, hot flashes, vaginal dryness and horrific mood swings) is 52. Which means I have seven more years of this to look forward to.

A Lose-Lose Situation

The whole thing is so appalling that I can barely articulate my feelings about it. You know what I mean. The Terry Schiavo case. What a mess. What a nightmare.

DH and I looked at the living will form for our state, and we are not satisfied. If two MDs decide after five days that I have no reasonable chance for recovery (the standard here) and I leave a living will stating that I don't wish to be kept alive under those circumstances - does that mean they unplug me from the respirator even if my DH just wants a day or two to get used to the idea?

We both know what the other wants, and we trust each other. We've made sure the kids know. We don't want to suffer when there's no hope. We don't want our bodies to be kept alive when we have no consciousness. But we want to allow each other the chance to come to terms with what's happened, especially if the one that's going to die isn't suffering.

It has been recommended to us by an attorney that we look into a procedural document, rather than a structural document. Rather than identifying the results we want to obtain, we would identify the process by which those results would be achieved. It sounds like a good idea; I wish I knew where to start.

Adjusting to working

I was out of work for a very long time, with a brief interruption or two of employment that didn't end well. I'm glad to be back at work. We need the money. Some other things have happened as a result of going back to work that I think are good, that I didn't really expect to have happen.

I don't feel so fat any more. I think that's very interesting, because I haven't lost any weight at all, not even one little pound. But because I get up early every morning and put on somewhat professional looking clothes that fit, I feel much less like a giant lump of uselessness. I still don't like looking in the mirror too much, but when asked to describe myself, the first word that pops into my head isn't "disgusting."

I'm becoming aware, not only of my weaknesses in work, but my strengths. I'm a very good writer, and I'm very good at approaching a problem and looking at the possible solutions when I have time to think about things. I'm not so good on the fly, but I don't usually have to be "on the fly," and I find when I'm in situations like meetings, I do just fine if I come prepared with what I want to address, listen and take notes, and listen. Did I mention listen? I'm usually a talker, but I'm much better off when I just listen, and then have time to collect my thoughts, and then talk. Or better yet, write.

I used to be quite confident and outgoing socially; now I often feel inept around people. Maybe I'm just inept around accountants. But in any case, though I like the people I work with, I think they don't like me much. Six months ago (three months ago) I would have been devastated, even crippled by this. Now, it bothers me some, but it doesn't break me. Now, I can pleasantly disagree with the woman who has nothing good to say about people on welfare, stating that I think it's a valuable safety net, without being too worried that she "won't like me" as a result. Not that I don't think about that - I do. But I'm not measuring the value of my self by how much people like me.

My therapist wants me to start working on my "10 Days to Self-Esteem" workbook. She thinks I may be ready to actually work on it now. She said I need to identify the lies I tell myself and then stop lying to myself. She also said I don't give myself nearly enough credit for how much better I am now than I was six months ago. She's probably right about that. I still mostly credit the Wellbutrin. But even if it ISN'T me - if it is "just the drugs" - I can live with that. Whatever it takes.

Hello, Visitors from Trap,No Trap

I've been linked by a blog that I like very much, but I don't link to it because I didn't want it tainted, y'know? I've told maybe one fellow blogger about it.

Well, the blog has been linked by by one of the "big kahuna" Mormon blogs and now it's getting tons of comments. And since I'm linked over there (not because I have anything profound or interesting to say, but because the blogger likes my links) some of those people have come over here.

Fair warning: I rarely write here about Mormon stuff; I save that for the group blogs and for the DAMU, where I post under an alias. If you're here to read about Mormon stuff, you're going to be disappointed. This is more of an "online journal" than a blog, though I do occasionally write about real issues, like why wearing short shorts in August in Southeastern Louisiana is not immodest; it's just common sense.

Y'all are welcome to stay if you see anything that interests you. If nothing else, you can get to Marginal Revolution from here, and I'm going to add a link on the side to a Religious Responses to Evolution page that I like very much. It has a bit about Mormons in it: the LDS church is classified as "neutral or ambivalent about evolution."

Great trip; glad to be home

I had a great trip. Day one was not a preview of the remaining four days. I got a lot done, I did a lot of driving, and I made contact with the cash generating arm of the business. I attended two meetings, and I learned many important and useful things in each one.

I especially enjoyed (most of the time) the driving. I found this most awesome radio station, WXRT-FM, that plays the most amazing blend of old and new rock and roll. Tiny Tim and Brave Combo covering "Stairway," followed by Led Zeppelin covering something else on their "Not by the original artists" Friday feature. I would move there just for the radio, though the weather stinks. It SNOWED. I mean, it snowed here on Christmas day, but it was the first time since, like, WWII that it's snowed here on Christmas day.

I was very glad to come home. Six nights away from home is about two too many. When I left O'Hare, it was about 26 degrees outside, and windy. When I landed at Gulfport, it was 76 and sunny, and little boy was wearing shorts. I heart the south.

Therapy is progressing nicely. I threw a party yesterday at church that was pretty successful. My husband cleaned the house while I was gone. I got to see my older son for a few hours (I hadn't seen him for a month). If I could just figure out a way to see my daughter and grandkids for a few days...

I was wrong about "doing" vs. "thinking"

Viruses, viruses, everywhere. What idiot thought it would be OK to connect 34 computers to the internet without anti-virus software? No, it was not me.

Day one and I've not accomplished much of anything...except to identify problems that I have neither the time nor the tools to solve.

My hotel room is really nice. But the bed is not so comfy as my own. My own bed is the best bed in the entire world. It's just exactly the right softness, and it doesn't move at all when DH or I roll over. It's like sleeping alone in terms of comfort, but with someone there, which is really nice.

After I get done with my personal computing stuff I have to do some work stuff. I don't have a computer here so I'm paying by the minute at Kinko's. It's quite strange to be working under such primitive conditions. No internet access at the stores...nobody keeps their software...positively 20th century.

Not much to tell

I can't believe how long it's been between posts, and how little I have to say in any case. I'm going to Chicago this afternoon and won't be back until next Saturday. I'm going to be busy, busy, busy and I'm looking forward to getting stuff done that will be easy, meeting with vendors, and getting out of the office for a bit. I like the office, but this is going to be more doing than thinking and I'm ready for the change.

I've identified the distances to the nearby FedEx/Kinko's so I won't be totally unplugged.

A guy I used to work with made me a CD of a Springsteen acoustic concert from 92 that he just raves about. Bruce was in his "Ghost of Tom Joad" period then (I think) so I'm looking forward to listening to it.

I'm off to finish packing. I have to leave for Gulfport in 45 minutes!

Some Pictures and stories to go with them

Little boy had a loose tooth for about two weeks. Here is a picture I took of his loose tooth.

Healthy pink tonsils, wouldn't you agree? The loose tooth is the lower front incisor on the left.

Sunday, it became so loose that he could make it almost horizontal. He decided he wanted someone to pull it out after church. But almost as soon as we got home, he pulled it out himself. It bled a little, and he gagged a little on the blood, but overall it was completely painless. Here is a picture of his new smile.

The new tooth has emerged quite a bit. We put the baby tooth in an envelope so it wouldn't get lost, and left it for the tooth fairy. She gave him a whole dollar for it. I only used to get a quarter for my teeth, but a dollar doesn't buy as much as it used to...probably about a quarter's worth.

Last week, Little Boy brought home a friend named Snopp to spend the night with us. Snopp is blue, and he lives at school. Everybody in Little Boy's class gets a turn to bring him home where he can join in family activities. Snopp brought a book with him, in which Little Boy's classmates had written about Snopp's adventures on his other visits. During his visit to our house, he and Little Boy watched TV and played. Snopp went out to dinner with us to the pizza buffet, where the waitress was very friendly to him. When we got home, Daddy vacuumed Snopp so he'd be all clean at bedtime. Then Snopp slept in Big Brother's bed, because Big Brother is away at college. Little Boy drew pictures and dictated the story of Snopp's visit to his daddy, and put the story in Snopp's book.

Here is a picture of Snopp tucked in for the night.

He is sleeping with Swimmy the Mardi Gras fish, so he won't be lonely.