Days Off

So. It's my days off. I'm bored. I go back to work tomorrow.

Total insanity at work. Illegal actions being taken by my boss, we're trying to quietly come up with a retort to this that doesn't involve quitting.

But unless I'm going to get paid the overtime owed me, and be allowed to get overtime in the future, I can't see any of us staying.

(Because that's what happening, you see. No overtime. There's more, but whatever.)

My sciatica has flared up like nobody's business today. I fear that I will not be better in the morning. You're not supposed to stand long hours or lift heavy things when your sciatica is being cranky.....and that's what I do for a living.

Sigh.

Looking to buy a truck. We're under budget (in a big way) when it comes to the wedding, and we need one. So....to craigslist I go.

To steal something from Circe:

Send pain meds that work, send more hours in the day, send someone to finish my laundry for me. And make my bed. Send a crowbar to remove my bosses head from his ass.

In My Bones

First of all, Happy Mother's Day. There are a few moms that read this blog that deserve more than one day of recognition for all they do. So stand up and be counted, ladies!

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My mother is not on that list. She doesn't read the blog (doesn't have the internet, thankfully)nor does she deserve to stand up and be counted for busting her ass daily to make sure that her child is well rounded, healthy, happy, content and safe.

Not even a little bit.

Every year, I send the obligatory card, I make the phone call, I pretend.

This year it was much, much harder than usual.

I'm so upset by her recent foray into emotional terrorism, that I don't really want to go into it. Seriously. I'm so enraged, so tired, so....Tired.

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My house looks like a bomb, filled with (clean) laundry, knitting supplies and random bullshit went off. Actually, more like a fountain. I clean, and it's like nothing happened. No change at all. How does this happen?

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My wedding shoes arrived. I love them.

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I am so exhausted, so stressed out....I've reached a new level. Seriously. It's different than all the other times that life came crashing down around my ears. I'm...resigned. My will has been broken. I'm done fighting. I no longer care if the food is right at the wedding, if my bosses think I'm a piece of shit (which they do), if my dress fits, if I buy the plane tickets to Hawaii on time. I simply don't care. I feel....nothing. All the way to my bones, my insides. I am filled with this great void. I'm totally depressed is what it is. Fighting never got me anywhere. Seriously. I'm done facing every problem head on. Doesn't do anything anyway. Everyone is going to do what they want to in the end, regardless of what I have to say about it.

Photos

T and I play apples to apples. First of about 900000 games.



I show my mom how I force T to bend to my will. In my pj's, no less.



Me and C smile like fools at the park.



On the teeter totter. That neither teeters, nor totters.



T and E attempt to overcome the non-teetering action....I sense failure.



At the shower. Proof that my mom is a wreck. I have yet to see a photo taken of her during her trip here where she looks 'normal'. The poor woman--she takes photos terribly.





My bridal party gave me a ball winder and swift as my shower gift. T and C wound all my yarn. We like that.



I need a nap.

Laundry List

So.

I'm losing my damn mind. Like, more than we already knew.

There's just a lot going on. A lot to worry about. A lot of thoughts and worries and motes of panic floating and buzzing around in my head that keep me from sleeping, relaxing, being fully myself. I'm trying to calm down, I'm trying to take to heart all those "It's going to be ok"'s that are being given to me. It's not working.

My mother, bless her, is making me lose my mind. She is so very selfish, so demanding, it exhausts me. Heaven forbid I pay attention to myself for a moment--We simply cannot do that, not on Mom's watch. It was so bad today that I poured rum in my diet pepsi to keep myself from overturning the couch in rage. Granted, I took two sips, felt the tummy burn and then switched back to virgin diet pepsi, but still. Those who know me are impressed.

I'm working such insane hours, I can't get anything done during the week without paying the price for it. I cannot complain, it's so, so much better than night shift. (Have I mentioned that there are a total of 4 people I work with--Total, like, there are no others--and there is still drama galore? How does this happen?) I've managed to finagle my way into three day weekends during our peninsula's marooning (The bridge that leads the way onto and off of this peninsula is closed for 6 weeks, HOORAY FOR THAT.) but I hold out little hope that this will continue.

I'm tired, I'm stressed, I have so, so much to do and there seem to be road blocks thrown in my path at every turn.

I just want to sleep. Wake me when I'm married.

Oh, and don't even get me started on the bullshit surrounding our honeymoon. Yes, we're still going to Hawaii, but, like most other good things in my life, it comes with a fucking PRICE TAG.

So, in a month...

I'm not dead, I'm sorry! Life, it is insane. Do I even have any readers left? Who knows.

For anyone still out there:

-My mom was here.
-She left without my killing her. Miracles do happen.
-I had a bridal shower.
-It was flipping amazing. I'm still confused and reeling from having a party thrown for me. Like, with food and everything. It was great, I had fun, so did most of the people I've talked to. My ladies did an amazing job.
-When a friend sends me the damn pics I will post them. HINT. C. HINT.
-Day shift! I work day shift! It's amazing and great and I was taken to a shitty dive bar in the middle of the afternoon where I was heavily questioned (How do you scrape a bowl? How do you make pate a choux, and what is it typically used for? How many beers can you drink in one sitting? What are your feelings on wine? Shots? Answers: With a bowl scraper. By heating and stirring a whole lot, then adding eggs, then piping penis shapes and baking/filling them. Eclairs. Beer is good. Wine is good. Shots are good. I can't drink all that much of any of them. {Guess which question I got wrong?}) and my personality was checked (Am I a sick and twisted little bitch? Hooray!) by the ex-head pastry chef and current head pastry chef, and it has been determined that I officially have my 'stripes' and can call myself a pastry chef (chief!) as well. Crazy white coats that we be. I will never wear the hat.


That's it. Really. Just insanely busy, working a shit load, had people in town.

Sorry for the delay.

Quick Update

-I hate my job with a passion, but things very well will be improving soon. I have no hopes left to get up, however.

-T's baby brother came over and filled our house with the flu virus, which I picked up on Monday night, making Tuesday night at work HELL. Chills, fever, headache, muscle aches, pain, exhaustion. It was, to say the least, probably one of the worst days I have had in recent memory. I then spent the next two days (my weekend) sweating it out, generally feeling like a hot shit sandwich and sleeping. Now I'm just coughing all the damn time, but I'm not running hot, so it's off to work I go.

-Started training new people/my replacements at work. One ROCKS, one SUUUUCKS. I'm interested to see how this plays out. This contributed to the hell that was Tuesday.

-My sister has been diagnosed with Graves Disease, which is a hyperthyroid condition. It's hereditary. Off to the doctor I go after I'm married and have insurance.

-Pretty much finalized our trip to Maui for honeymooning. Must secure dates and times with appropriate parties.

-There was momentary panic about the potential for losing a blog and blog-friend. I even drafted a missive style email to this person trying to talk them out of quitting the internets. Then I looked twice at the post, caught the 'alot' and 'God Bless', realized the sarcasm, breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled. Then felt guilty for leaping before I looked.

-I'm cold. And tired. And I'm working a 13 hour day. So I'm done.

The Sweetest Thing

Twenty Eight Years Ago Today......a baby boy was born, in a large hospital in the Pacific Northwest. He grew up to become one of the best and funniest people I know, my best friend, my lovah, my confidante, and my husband.



He's also a snappy dresser.

Happy Birthday, honeybun. You are my heart. Here's to one hundred more.