My Insomniac Mind at 4:38am

Unclinch my jaw. I need to remember to tell the team about jury duty. I should throw a load of towels and underwear into the wash before we leave tomorrow. Did BH start the dishwasher? I didn't hear it. Not comfortable. Got to write a check for the cleaning people. What else have I put on my credit card this month besides those tickets and that lunch? Where is that bin in the garage with the Geej's winter stuff? Unclinch my jaw. If F doesn't like tomatoes, I'll have to modify that recipe. But what else would be good in it? I need to make an appointment with the dermatologist. Call the endocronologist tomorrow. What does my schedule look like tomorrow? I know there's the team meeting, but there's something else...in the afternoon. Not comfortable, roll over. Shave my legs tomorrow. New razor blade. Where is that special floss that gets behind my retainer? Unclinch my jaw. The ceiling over the bathtub. The shelves. Breakable things. Storage room. Kitchen paint. New faucet. Call Jeff. Or email. The weekend of the 20th? That's the best weekend. That police officer. Honor flag. Fitting tribute. Just doing his job. Unclinch my jaw. What else on that playlist? Music lessons for Geej. Schedule? Which beach house? Need to book it. Don't nag. Should email Mel about happy hour. Miss her and Kim. Mell to Temperance? Call Thelma. Hope Skye's mom will respond tomorrow. Worried about exective support. What does "They think it's done," mean? Alarming. 529 rollover. Confusing paperwork. Unclinch my jaw. Ireland. When? Does he still suck his thumb? San Antonio. About $14,000. Wonder what I could get for it. Legroom. Laura's house. Charleston. Why can't I sleep?! Legalzoom. Finish. How much? Can't do everything. Dishwasher. Laundry. Re-fold and organize. Unclinch my jaw. Dental bill. Just ignore. Throw away? File? Clean out files. Shredding. Uncomfortable. Change sheets. More laundry. It's not a closet. No more pedicures. She's going to be pissed. Pictures. Carnival. Unclinch my jaw.

A Perfect Storm

Today I was catching up on a blog I enjoy, and the post I was reading was mostly photos of a camelia bush...a bird's nest...and some amazingly bright blue robin's eggs in the nest. So simple and perfect. So gorgeous and symbolic of spring. And suddenly, I started crying.

It was kind of like yesterday when I drove myself home early from work in a weird mental haze, feeling drugged without actually being drugged. It was all I could do to drag myself into the house and to the bed, utterly fatigued and unhinged and crying and apologizing to BH for being such a mess.

I'd figured out at some point yesterday that this horrible feeling was very familiar--it's exactly like I'd felt after I got my thyroid removed and before I'd started my synthetic hormone replacement. I called my endocrinologist and told them what was going on, and now I've got to go get blood work done to see if I need my meds adjusted. If my thyroid levels come back within normal range, I guess we'll just chalk all of this up to me being nuts, which would be a surprise to exactly no one.

So combine this weird hypothyrodism bullshit with the whole root canal drama from last week (that continues tomorrow with Part Two of my dental appointment), the fact that I busted the FUCK out of my arm by falling into my nightstand last Thursday night when I got out of bed in the middle of the night to go pee (I mean, y'all should SEE my arm...it's sick), all of the weird shit going on at home, and the fact that I have to go to fucking JURY DUTY next week when I am waaaaaaaaaay too busy to be out of the office right now, and I am one gigantic ball of stress.

Blech.

But lest you think that I am all gloom and doom these days, there are good things going on too:

Got to spend some quality time with some of my favorite people this past weekend--my friends Josh, Michelle, and their daughter Ruby who were visiting from Portland, OR. We ate vegan treats and swam in the river. The Geej and Ruby played and had a blast. It was wonderful.

Throwing rocks.

The Pedernales

I get to see my friend Stacy (from Atlanta) in San Antonio in a couple of weekends. I'll be staying in a hotel! By myself!! Whoot!

I got tickets to see Nick Offerman (a.k.a. Ron Swanson) during the Moontower Comedy Festival.

I'm also going to see Jeff Mangum, mastermind behind one of my favorite albums of all time: Neutral Milk Hotel's "In An Aeroplane Over the Sea."

Work is rocking. I'm busier and happier than I've been in a long time, and the team I'm on is amazing.

So you know, there's that stuff...

The Wild and Wacky World of Adolescence!

I would say that, for the most part, I had a pretty good adolescence and teenager-hood. I mean, sure, there were some severely shitty parts. I was goofy and awkward and was worried that my boobs would never grow and no boys would ever ever like me ever. I worried that, because I was utterly mystified by algebraic concepts, that I might actually be stupid and that once this fact about me was discovered, I would utterly fail at life. I fought with my parents and occasionally thought they were total idiots. I snuck around and did stuff I wasn't supposed to. I drank too many wine coolers and barfed everywhere...way more than once. I smoked pot when it was around and I took Ecstacy a handful of times. I had crushes on "good guys" who were often times just as bad or worse than the "bad guys" I also had crushes on. I was bored out of my mind in my small town, but I managed to make the best of it with hilarious friends and lots of school and parties and hairspray.

But there is not enough money in the universe that would convince me to get in a time machine and do it all over again. Being a teenager sucks balls. Your body is all out of whack, your brain is equally screwy, and your emotions? Whoa. Total psychoville. You have no idea who you are and, if you start to feel self-assured for one single minute, something or someone smacks you down (or at least you think they smack you down...but who knows because you're nuts). You spend an inordinate amount of time wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear. I guarantee you that even the most beautiful/handsome, popular, and seemingly awesome kid at your high school secretly hated themselves and longed for their own hidey-hole sometimes.

So watching my young stepson--barely 12 years old--just beginning to struggle with all the bullshit that is adolescence breaks my heart. There's nothing I can say that will convince him that I, or any other adult for that matter, understands one iota what he's going through. Every teenager is sure that they're the only person on the planet who has ever felt the way they're feeling; to them, their angst and misery are completely unique and unprecedented. If they lack the coping skills or parental structure necessary to make it through the roughest of the rough patches, they shut down and withdraw. They can't, or simply won't, talk about it--whatever that "it" might be, which leaves those that love them totally ill-equipped to help or support them. You all enter a whirlpool of frustration and start to go down the drain together.

But BH is an amazing father, and if there's anyone who I'd want in this kid's corner right now, it's him. We're going to get through this as a family, and with any luck, F will come to know just how loved and supported he really is.

Also, I'm guessing we're that going to learn a lot, which will hopefully prepare us for The Geej's teenage years because I'm pretty sure they're going to be a freakin' doozie.