Daily Archives: March 9, 2017
My mom is learning ASL to communicate post-stroke.…
I am so glad to be getting this string of gorgeous days. It makes my spirit feel good to know the sun is shining and the flowers are blooming. It’s supposed to rain this weekend, but I am praying that it won’t be raining in Starkville where we are going to watch baseball games for spring break.
Worked at the food pantry today and that went well. Everyone came in at a steady stream so we were never overwhelmed and we had a good supply of food to hand out. It never looks like it’s going to be enough but God always provides just enough to feed everyone that comes to pick up food. So bless ed to see him do this every time I go.
Had a good time with Marlo yesterday. We ate at a new place called Local 468 and I had a Kobe beef burger. It was expensive but SO GOOD. She came in with a work emergency and spent part of the visit on the phone but once she solved it she was completely present for the rest of the visit. SO that was nice to do for a while. We talked shop but it was positive because we are both doing so well in what we do.
Sent off another story yesterday as well–it’s one I already have circulating but I hope someone will pick it up and it might as well be them. We will see how it goes. I am so glad to have a lot of work circulating so that something might land with someone. I’m no longer bothered by rejection because I have so much out there and there is always somewhere else to send it. SO we will see how it works out.
Originally posted on My Brain Has Hiccups:
My Brain Has Hiccups View original post
My Brain Has Hiccups View original post
“What Fresh Hell” is one of my all time favorite quotes but I have used it several times in various forms as a post title so I thought I’d shake it up a bit. Hell is hell, freshly squeezed or from concentrate.
Today was hell. I spent almost 7 unbearable hours at the shop, in the dish, because hey, he bought the new handle for my car door and was doing the labor for free, so…I owe him. Which is fine. But being out of my safe zone that long is disorienting to the nth. Then he pointed out we’d be spending most of the day and evening together since tonight was the night to fix the car door handle. That did not enthuse me. Nothing against him. Just…Sound, light, chaos, it’s all getting to me and I am falling to pieces like a rotting zombie.
Then came the door handle fix. Easy peasy, he says. FIVE FUCKING HOURS. Shortly before 6 pm until almost 11 p.m. to replace a busted door handle. He used so many curse words, I may have learned a couple new ones. Though I did point out he had failed to throw in cockweasel and we cannot have the cockweasels claiming some sort of prejudice. (Humor is the only thing that keeps me going, dudes.)
Spook was all clinging today because her attitude and hitting me this morning got the droid taken away from her. R and I had Wendy’s for lunch and for whatever reason…it sent me into gastric agony. The kind not even Tums and Immodium help with. Agony. So being wallowed by a child, and especially not even allowed to run to the bathroom doubled over in agony without MOM MOM MOM every ten seconds…Fresh hell, indeed.
She was bored at R’s and frankly, so was I but I have learned when someone is doing something nice for you they are not obligated to do but choose to do it…You suck it up. She went inside and fell asleep on the sofa shortly after 8, after she got pissed that he didn’t fix it in time for us to be home for her to get the church bus.
I was dispatched to Auto Zone in R;’s ’85 two seating, which I loathe driving (hate driving anyone else’s car) and of course I started having mega panic attacks and all the headlights were triggering me and I can’t see well at night. Some dude tried to pass four lanes of traffic in the dark, was like human Frogger. Nightmare.
Got back with the parts he needed for the door handle…only they didn’t fit right. And so began three more hours of him swearing and me just really wishing he’d throw in the towel, I would have. But he is tenacious and he would not give up even when it hit ten o’clock. He found different bolts and nuts, he filed them down, forced them to thread, he cussed that car and Buick and their great grannies…
Meanwhile I was leaning over the car hood cos only laying on my tummy seems to get my stomach acids to calm down. I was in agony the whole time, wanting a clean line to the toilet. Humiliating, and not sure if it was the food or if I have met my stress quota and am cracking up cos I’ve been doing this friend thing for R for 3 days and his marital drama is worse than a fucking soap opera written by someone on acid…
It’s exhausting trying to be a good person, especially when drama is one of your personal triggers.
But finally the car door was done and we were able to come home. Spook went right back to sleep in her own bed.
R called and pleaded with me to come in tomorrow so he could run a few errands, including getting his mom’s birthday card and gift and after he spent 5 hours with ice cold hands and busted up knuckles just to put that door handle on for me…I can’t fucking say no and live with myself. I did, however, make the caveat that it be around ten a.m. Cos I was there at 7:45 a.m. today, sans meds lest they knock me out and all…And I forgot deodorant, forgot to brush my hair…I was skanky and zero fucks were given.
I truly wanted tomorrow to regain equilibrium because today tested my limitations…But how do you say no to someone who busted up their knuckles and spent 5 hours unpaid doing repairs to your junk? Especially so he can get his mom a gift and stuff.
So I will tough it out, pray my stomach stops channeling gastric satan, and then hopefully sometime this weekend my brain will slow down enough to vent about the last week or so where I was uber triggered and even pondered signing myself into the psych ward at one point.
Until then…Could I please get some eggs and bacon with my fresh squeezed OJ from Hell?