It's Monday

I've had a large McD's coffee (black, of course), and half a bottle of 5-hour Energy, which seems to be doing exactly nothing.

Already this morning I've tackled rearranging my boss's (I never know where to put the apostrophe) schedule, distributed photo ID which arrived via UPS overnight, talked to an awesome IT guy (one who actually knew what he was doing...) who helped me figure out why our network printer wasn't functioning properly, tried (though so far unsuccessfully) to assign a telecommuter-who-is-no-longer-a-telecommuter an cubicle which shouldn't be difficult but somehow is, and worked on a graphic for an email blast regarding the Employee Engagement Team's St. Patrick's Day event.

I'm also having a very bad hair day.  Well...life.

And I have gray ones that shine like a beacon in the night.  They're very distracting.

Oh look....I've just now realized it's noon.

TTFN
JMS

My Personal Phobia

I heard something today about a new phobia.  Well, I guess it's not all that new because I can find references to it dating as far back as 2008 (tee hee) - but it's new to me.  It's called 'Nomophobia' - the fear of being out of mobile phone contact or without your mobile phone.  (Side note, and coincidentally, a friend left her iPhone at home today and stated on Facebook that the world did NOT end.  I would say she does not have Nomophobia.) 

I have an unexplanible fear of...well...I don't really know what to call it.  If it has an official phobia name.  I am really not even sure how to describe it, exactly.  But I will do the best I can.  (What is that thing...the first step to getting help is admitting you have a problem?)

I am 38 years old and have never gone to college.  There.  I've said it.  It's out in the open and my shame is there for all to see.  Yes, I am shamed by this.  I SHOULD have gone to college but due to several circumstances (situational, financial and emotional) I did not.  I want to go to college.  Not just pretend I'm somewhat smart, but actually be able to PROVE that I am.  Have that little piece of paper that I can show others which says that I am capable of...well...whatever.

But I can't.

I'm absolutely TERRIFIED of going to school.  I don't know what it is but even WRITING about it, as I am now, has landed me on the sharp edge of a panic attack.  I'm actually weeping.  This totally sucks.

I don't know what to do to get over this.  Forget the fact that I don't have any money and couldn't actually afford to go if my fear were to suddenly and magically disappear. 

If anyone out there still reads my blog (because I've gotten so bad about keeping up with it) please, please, PLEASE help me figure out what is wrong with me?

TTFN
JMS

Where does the time go?

The time has come.  I can't believe it. 

Tonight, we have a meeting a Little Bit's school - to discuss Kindergarten readiness.

Yes.

Kindergarten.

Already.

Little Bit will be 5 in March and therefore she will start Kindergarten this fall.  She will take a test to determine readiness, but I have no doubt she's ready.  She was probably ready last year (this past fall) - but...

Kiddo is in 2nd grade and that in itself is scary to me. 

For those people who say things like, "You'd better watch out - it goes faster than you think!"  I say, "You're right...and every second is amazing so don't miss ANYTHING."

I fear I've already missed so much.

TTFN
JMS

Too late

You know it's too late when you do an online search for a friend's address only to find their obituary instead.  And then to find out that this friend passed away in September...3 months earlier...and you're just now finding out about it.

I feel badly.  I truly do.  But I don't make a habit of searching obituaries for people I know and was truly surprised, and saddened, to find that our former neighbor is no longer with us.

She and her husband were good friends to us when Kiddo was small, and when Little Bit was brand new.  They had two goofy rescue poodles who were fun to watch and to play with, even if they barked like mad.  They fed us...often...on excellent homemade Italian food, strong coffee, and even sometimes wine.  They gave and gave and gave of themselves...and then we moved away.  Shortly thereafter, they moved, too.  Out of state.  And we lost touch.

He is still alive.  She is not.  She will be missed.

And I am sad.

TTFN
JMS

That feeling...

You know that feeling?  The one you get when you've just eaten a poppy- or sesame-seed bagel and you are worried that you have seeds stuck in your teeth, but you're no where near a mirror to confirm this so you just hope no one will notice?  There's a lot of "not smiling" involved.  The tip of your tongue gets kind of sore for running it over your teeth hoping to feel an offending particle.  You're convinced people you talk to are staring at the little black bits wedged near your gum line, so you're self-conscious - yet you're kind of ticked off, too, because you wish they'd just say, "Hey!  You know you have stuff stuck in your teeth, right?"  And no one you know, who is currently around to ask, is someone you're close enough to, to go over and grin Cheshire-Cat like and ask, "Do I have anything in my teeth?"

Just like you wish people would say something - anything - when you've been walking around with your fly open all morning.  (Not that this has ever happened to me.  Nope. Nope. Nope.)

TTFN
JMS

A Walk Between Raindrops

Right now I am feeling stretched so thin that I could probably walk between raindrops in a downpour and not get wet.

I can't believe that I haven't posted anything since JUNE.  How careless of me.

Never mind that it's now Christmas and on top of already feeling overwhelmed, now I have to worry about how I'm going to pay for Christmas gifts for the kids.  We don't ever get them much, but we want to get them something.  My house is still a mess, even though I've worked my a$$ off trying to get out from under the mountains of crap. 

To top it off - my Mother's birthday would have been tomorrow.  December 15th.  It hit me like a ton of bricks about 30 minutes ago when I physically wrote the date 12/14 and thought to myself, "Hm...why is that date important?"  And then I remembered Mom's birthday.  I'm partially upset because I miss her and even after 22 years I still would want to be able to give her a hug and tell her I love her and wish her a Happy Birthday.  She knows, though.  I'm partially upset because after 22 years, the date of her birth isn't foremost on my mind like I think it should be and I feel guilty for having to actually wonder why the date struck me as important.  So now I've made myself a bit sad, and I wasn't sad 30 minutes ago.

And please, don't tell me to snap out of it.  I feel like being sad right now.  But I promise it won't last too long because I have too much to do for it to remain at the forefront.  I have to get through my work day.  And then we have to be at church tonight at 5PM and I have to work on catching up on paperwork and cleaning out the crap that has accumulated in my classroom, too.

I have to plan the Evening with Art (a gallery of the artwork the children have done during my Devotions class this past Fall) which will take place at the church Jan 4th.  I have to plan Devotions classes for January.  I have to organize Devotions classes for February AND a Valentine's day something-or-other for the Sunday school kids.  Thankfully not ALL of that has to get done tonight.

And then BAM!  Christmas.

How did that happen?

Where did the time go?

How did my kids get to be almost-8 and almost-5?

Anyway - I think I'd better quit while I'm ahead.  Thanks for letting me vent!

TTFN
JMS

They say, "Write what you know..."

I'm a complicated person.

I'm allergic to mushrooms.  To codeine.  To ibuprofen.  To NSAIDs in general.  To aspirin...by default.  To grass and trees and leaves and mold and dander and guinea pigs (especially guinea pigs) and the list goes on.  I spend most of the Spring and Fall sneezing and dripping and wishing for relief.  But Benadryl (or anything with diphenhydramine) knocks me flat on my butt and I am then useless for at least 24 hours.  Other allergy meds tend make me lethargic - but typically do not render me unconscious.  They sometimes work.  Mostly, people who know me are used to the constant barrage of violent sneezing and sniffing and itchy-throat scratching.  It is just a part of being me.  Love me or leave me, right?

I hate wrinkles in my sheets and at least try to straighten them before I climb in for the night.  Hubby likes a tangled mess - I like a nice neat cocoon.

I can burn water - but bake with some success....although I truly dislike cooking.

I make a mean fruit salad.

I'm a terrible housekeeper - but I am anal to the point of obsession.  I haven't quite figured out how those go together, or why they do not.

I get distracted by....Oh! Look!  Something shiny!  (Blame it on the ADD)

I love to read.  I'll read just about anything.

I love music.  Except 99.9% of rap music...which I guess I just don't understand.

I put something yucky in my trash can at work every day just to ensure that the cleaning people actually change the plastic liner every night.  If I don't...they don't.

I enjoy making the coffee at the office in the morning...except when I don't.  Which happens.  And then I bless the other early morning coffee goddess with every sip of the hot caffeinated liquid.

I enjoy writing.  I like to write short stories.  I've had several false starts at writing a book.  I think I need to plan it better - but I feel like I do better writing just to write...without a plan or an outline.  Maybe I don't have a purpose.  Maybe someday I'll have enough time to focus on writing exclusively - but I am not going to hold my breath.

I think this is enough for now.  Are you scared yet?

TTFN
JMS

Mountains of Crap!

Right now, I'm about as close to a breakdown as I can possibly be - I think.  I'm feeling pulled in 50 different directions and I have so much to do and not enough time to do it all.  And my house is suffering for it. 

I know I've said this before but I think I am going to seriously get a shovel and just start dumping stuff.  Necessary or not.  Gotta dig out from the drifts that are taking over my house. 

Some would call them piles of clutter or "hot spots".  I call them MOUNTAINS OF CRAP!  They make me feel crazier than I already do and are definitely not conducive to calm, rational thinking. 

Relaxation?  In my own home?  Forget it!

Ok - I'm done ranting now.

TTFN
JMS