I read the termination letter and said "well, I know what this says, since I wrote it."
Oh, Scrappy. That bites in so many different ways.
Good luck tonight on the date, omnis, and more luck tomorrow talking to your mom.
I went into Fresh Market brain-fogged with hunger and thirst and spent less than $20. Okay, that's because I went in with only a $20 on purpose, but still - I want a gold star. I am so freaking tired - I've worked until at least 6 pm (aka dark) four days in a row this week, and I'm working tomorrow. But I *will* go to Krewe de Vieux tomorrow, dammit!
My allergies are acting up like crazy, and, as usual, my neck muscles are tightening up in response. I really want a massage. I do, however, now have an electric blanket, so at least I'm warm.
Oh, I had electric blankets when I lived up north. Ahhh, warm comfort. Nice!
I've recently come into possession of fleece sheets. HEAVEN. Seriously. So cuddly, comfy and warm. Like sleeping in a stuffed animal. They are making this winter enjoyable...at least the prone portions of the program.
I've tried flannel sheets, but my pajamas would stick to them, and I'd wake up all tangled.
Total gold star smonster.
We have awesome flannel sheets, but the fitted sheet has torn and I have to replace it. Woes. I guess I should check Overstock.
I think we've hit the wall on Hubby's ability to cope with the endless surgeries. I've bought into his stoic facade till now, and I didn't realize how hard this is on him. He's got another heart procedure this week--the same one that nearly killed him last time--and it's freaking him out. We've got to fill out the pre-admittance forms, with their requests for all his drugs and surgeries and major procedures and shit they should have on record, and he's freezing up. I just told him I'm going to need his help with the drug list, and I found him in tears. The only thing worse to him than being "weak" is for me to catch him being "weak," so I can't go hug him, because he starts apologizing for letting me down. It's not good or healthy, but this is really not the time to try and deal with his emotional issues on the subject. It's been driven into him that he needs to be a particular type of strong, and it would be a multi-year effort just to get him to acknowledge that his internalized approach to fear might not be the best thing, much less get him to let someone help him. People doing favors for him upsets him, he has to immediately try to do something for that person to balance things out. I've had to be very stern with him, pointing out to him that he is dishonoring that person's nobility by refusing to accept an honest gift (I know how my beloved's brain is wired, I know how his values are coded). So now he will at least accept largesse, but it never makes him happy.
Odds are everything will go perfectly well. But he's nearly out of resilience on coping with his body's collapse.
Oh, Connie. It must be so tough and scary for both of you. I'm thinking of you both.
(I know how my beloved's brain is wired, I know how his values are coded)
This is beautiful.
But I *will* go to Krewe de Vieux tomorrow, dammit!
Are you hanging with D's peeps? I actually finally have a place to go in the Marigny so I will be hanging out at this new friend's house this year. Maybe we will run into each other... I think I am going to wear my pink wig, cat ears, pink leopard print gloves, and my bustiest, shortest, Voluptuous Vixen dress. Oh! I wore it when we went to Frenchmen Street with Aims, though I'm sure you don't remember it. Tights and comfy shoes to complete the outfit.
Monday I am going to the costume store downtown to get my Mardi Gras superhero costume freak on.
He's lucky to have you, Connie. Being understood is one of the greatest gifts to be given.
