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.

Things that Have Happened Since I Last Posted

• BH celebrated his 43rd birthday.
• We went on an old-fashioned Sunday drive to see the spring wildflowers that are blooming like crazy right now after months of severe drought followed by a wet winter. It was beautiful and probably quite the opposite of what most people who've never been to Texas picture when they imagine our state.
  
  
  

• I began composing my will.
• BH's youngest son, F, came to live with us. On Monday. It was rough, but the best thing for this kiddo who needs his dad in his life.
• Many tears were shed.
• Adjustments were made.
• F started school at his new school today. Scary, I'm sure. Remember sixth grade?
• I canceled our trip to Ireland, which was supposed to begin 2 weeks from tomorrow.
• I found out I need a root canal. And I'm getting it done today.
• I found out we're getting a fat tax refund, which was originally earmarked for our trip but some of which will now go to pay for my stupid root canal. Sexy.
•  My wonderful friends Joshelle from Portland and their kick-ass kiddo Ruby Bird arrived in Austin for a visit.
• I dreamed that I was at a Sammy Hagar ("I Can't Drive 55"/Red Rocker-era Sammy) and Stevie Nicks concert at a waterpark (Sea World), and I was going down this massive waterslide that, of course, went over the stage where Stevie and Sammy were performing, and somehow, I ended up dangerously clinging to the outside of the slide tube. And who saved me? In front of the performers and the crowd? Why, MacGyver, of course. That's right: Richard Dean Anderson showed up, frosted mullet and all, and saved my ass.

Talking With My Daughter About Prince

Yesterday while I was at work listening to my iTunes on random shuffle, Prince's "Baby I'm a Star" came on. I cranked it up all the way, did some borderline embarrassing chair bopping, and had to restrain myself from bursting into song. "Might not know it now, but baby you'll find out I'm a STAR!" I was already in a pretty good mood, but this musical boost put me over the top.

Later, when I left work, my Prince sing-along hit full tilt in the car on the way to pick up The Geej. Selections from "Purple Rain" were joined by classics from "1999," "Parade," and other albums of his. However, when I got to the Geej's aftercare place, the iPod was turned off, and the concert came to an end.

Until this morning.

We got in the car to head to school, and memories of the prior day's joyful, funky songfest made me hungry for more, so I turned on "Baby I'm a Star" again--where it all began.

This is the conversation that followed.

****
Geej: Mommy, can you turn it down.
Me: No.
Geej: Just a bit?
Me: Okay (turning it down one notch).
Me: "Baby, look me over/tell me do you like what you see?
Baby, I ain't got no money, but honey I'm rich on personality."
Geej: (Sort of horrified that I'm so in to it and clearly not "feeling it" as they say) What IS this?!
Me: This is Prince! Isn't it awesome?
Geej: No! It's HORRIBLE!
Me: (Ignoring her and continuing to sing) "I don't wanna stop, til I reach the top...I'm a STAR...whoa YEAH!"
Geej: Do you really like this?
Me: Um, clearly. Is it just too funky for you? (Smiling at her in the back seat)
Geej: (Unimpressed) No, it's just too awful for me.
Me: Oh come ON! This was one of my favorite albums in high school...it was one of the biggest albums of the decade! Prince is super talented. He can play a ton of different instruments--piano, guitar, bass, drums... And you should see him DANCE. He's AMAZING!!
Geej: Is he still alive?
Me: Yes.
Geej: How old is he?
Me: I don't know...maybe around 50.
Geej: So he's older than you.
Me: Yes. He's practically dead.
Geej: No, but when he's 50 MORE years old he'll be 100, and then he'll probably be dead.
Me: Do you want to see what he looks like (picking up the iPod to show her his picture).
Geej: (In a totally dry, teen-agery tone and timed perfectly with the soulful first solo guitar notes of "Purple Rain") No, Mommy. I don't care about Prince, and I've got to get out of the car or I'm going to be tardy.
Me: (Turning down the music) Okay. Well...I love you (kiss), and I'll see you this evening. Have a great day.
Geej: Okay. Love you. Bye. (Gets out of the car and walks toward the school doors).
Me: "Never meant to cause you any sorrow. Never meant to cause you any pain..."

And scene.

The Long, Stupid Story of My Lost/Not Lost Wallet

Back in December, I'd gone grocery shopping one Saturday morning, and while at the store, picked up a few stocking stuffers for Christmas. When I got home, I hurried to my closet to squirrel away said stocking stuffers, away from the eyes of husbands and children, then I headed to the kitchen to unload the rest of my purchases.

It was a fine day, and I was looking forward to a massage and salt-glo body treatment I'd scheduled later that afternoon at a day spa near our house. Earlier that month, I'd unearthed a gift certificate to the spa given to me by my mother the previous Christmas, and needed to use it prior to the expiration date.

When I grabbed my purse to make sure I had some cash with which to tip the massage therapist, I discovered my small, adorable pink metallic wallet that I bought in Portland last summer was missing. I fuh-REEEKED out. I immediately got in my car and flew back to the grocery store, asking the cashier in the lane I'd gone through if she'd seen it (no), the Front End Manager if it had been turned in (no) and the store manager if it had been turned in (also, no). My freak out continued. I am generally good in a crisis, say, if you cut the tip of your finger off and need to get to the hospital or if I back in to a police car when leaving a parking space. Cool as a damn cucumber. However, when I lose stuff that's important to me...stuff that I need RIGHT THAT MINUTE, I lose. My. Shit. I literally had to pop a Xanax just to deal. I immediately called the spa and cancelled my appointment (how would I pay them? My gift certificate was only going to pay for a portion of my services), and that just bummed me out even more because my gift certificate was expiring the next day. Then I ran to the bank to cancel my debit card and get issued a new (temporary) one. Then I got online and on the phone and started canceling credit cards. Thankfully, I don't have but a couple, but it was still a pain in my ass. I looked at my calendar, trying to figure out when the hell I was going to have time to deal with getting a new driver's license--a fate almost as horrible as having to go to the Social Security office for...well, for anything. And the whole time I'm going through all of this, I'm thinking to myself, "Where the fuck IS that damn wallet?!" I don't like it when stuff doesn't make sense--you know, like algebra and when wallets seemingly disappear in thin air. I was in a shitty, shitty mood for the rest of the day.

The next day, I found my fucking wallet on the floor of my closet, right near where I'd hidden the stocking stuffers.

Sigh.

Fast forward to this past Sunday. The Geej and I go to The Lorax. During the movie, I hang my purse between our seats, on the arm rest. Shortly after getting home after the movie, I realize that, DAMNIT TO HELL, my wallet is not in my purse. Grrrr... So, I put The Geej back in the car, and we head back to the damn theater. When I got there, I checked with the ticket booth (nope, but here, fill out this tiny "Lost and Found" slip in case we find it), the snack bar (no) and then asked the pimply 15 year old working the ticket checkpoint if I can go in to the theater and look around where Geej and I had sat to watch the movie. His answer: No. The movie's just started, so come back in about an hour and a half, and you can go in when it's over.

Um, no, Junior. That's not going to work for me. That's my fucking wallet filled with all of my Important Stuff and the cash I'd gotten from our pre-movie trip through the ATM, so you're going to need a bit more accommodating or get me your goddamned manager because your policy? Is stupid.

After speaking with the manager, I was allowed to go in to the theater. The previews were still running. There was a man and his son sitting in the seats Geej and I had occupied. I explained to him what was up, and he got out his phone (for the flashlight effect) and helped me look under and around the seats. No luck.

Having learned my lesson with the whole December "lost" wallet situation, I held off cancelling everything, and instead waited until Monday, hoping that the last clean of the evening at the theater would yield my wallet or that some nice citizen would turn it in and I would get a call. But no.

So Monday, I took the day off to hang with The Geej who--have I mentioned?--is sick. She'd been running a fever off and on since Friday evening, and I wanted to get her in to see the doctor on Monday morning. A good chunk of Monday is spent dealing with her under-the-weatheredness (diagnosis: bad bronchitis) and also, the whole wallet debacle. I even dragged my poor child to the driver's licence office so she could experience the fun that is our Government At Work.

By the end of the day, everything was cancelled, new cards were ordered, and I had my new paper driver's license folded up in my too-big-to-EVER-lose-it-without-noticing-right-away wallet.

Yesterday, I stayed home again with The Geej who, although no longer feverish, was still coughing like Lucille Ball. During an afternoon call with my boss, my other line rang and I answered it. It was the movie theater: they had my wallet.

Well, great.

I headed to the theater to pick it up, expecting all of the cash, etc. to be missing, but sweetbabyjeebus, it was all there! In tact!! I couldn't believe it!

But I've decided that I'm still going to carry the Big Ass Wallet from now on because this cute little pink sucker is too easy to misplace.

In non-wallet related news, we've discovered Cam Wow, and omg The Geej and I laughed ourselves to tears playing around with it yesterday.

Hell, even Doug got in on the fun.

Alright, that's all for now. More soon, chickens!