Sparks and Butterflies

My apologies to anyone who has a delicate constitution…  But this week has been a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

Let’s see, where to begin?

To give the week context, for this entire week I’ve been working with a new client.  I’ve been working with them for a while, but this week was the largest scale project I’ve done with them thus far.  I’ve got to get three men to two different cities on both coasts in the next two weeks.  Plus their 20 some odd meetings with Very Important People.  One man is in all of them, and it’s a crapshoot if the other two are in the meetings.  Which means I’m doing their travel arrangements, plus arranging the schedules of 23 individuals.  Can I do it?  Yes, I can.  It’s why I’m a damn great assistant.  However, it is time consuming and frustrating.  And today’s the last work day before the first trip – and I’ve been working on this all week.

ON TOP OF THAT, which I have to do GREAT so I don’t lose the client (remember my husband’s unemployed?) all of this happened this week alone.

My husband had major dental surgery.  For some genetic reasons, Poe had every single one of his teeth pulled.  At once.  And got dentures.  At the same time.  Of course I had to be there to drive him home, and then care for him after something so majorly traumatic.  And the surgery took triple the time they said it would, which means I was completely panicked.  He doesn’t respond well to anesthesia, and it was bloody and gory and full of really powerful medications.  Ultimately, the kids spent the night at my best friend’s so they wouldn’t have to witness it.  On a school night for one of them, which of course presents it’s own ramifications.  That was Monday.  It’s now Friday, and he’s doing much better, taking less of the medications, and seems to be healing well in his incisions.  His dentures still aren’t fitting quite right, so he goes back for another fitting today.  Which makes two in three days.  So he’s definitely not up to par as of yet, and eating is a significant challenge.  I continually ask him to say “sixty six” because I’m evil.  No not really, it’s because he needs to learn how to talk again.

Also this week?  A power outage.  Which means I had no router.  Which means I couldn’t access the internet.  Which means I couldn’t work during this big client project.  Luckily it only lasted a couple of hours.

And then?  My computer died.  Due to a Microsoft general update.  Luckily I was able to use a restore point to get it back.

And then? My iPhone started fritzing.  I fixed it (an app was apparently pissed off.)  Annoying, since that’s my connection to the outside work world when my computer doesn’t work (see above.)

Somewhere in here my oldest lost another tooth, and a visit from the tooth fairy was in order.  Thank goodness I didn’t screw that up too.

Also in there is a kid in his last full week of school with ants in his pants in the midst of a major allergy attack, plus a kid who’s out for summer vacation which makes working SO MUCH EASIER.  That was sarcasm.

And finally, yesterday…  My mom and dad came home from Las Vegas where they were taking my aunt to the doctor (or were until she canceled the appointment making the trip unnecessary but they were already there). And my mother came home, got her pertinent stuff with my and Poe’s help, and then she went back into the hospital.  God I’ve got a great husband.  This is the third time he’s carried her to the car for a trip to the hospital (my dad’s had back surgery.)  She’s bleeding again.  For no known reason, and they can’t find the source.  Again.  She’s still there.  They’re giving her a unit of blood as I write, and then she’ll be having another endoscopy.  Her 13th.  Because they’re sure they’ll find something this time.

And today, I can’t be at the hospital because I have to finish this client work.  Because I am responsible, and they’re counting on me, and so are my other clients.  And then Poe has another dentist appointment,  and I’ll have Joseph.  And then we have to go to an end of school picnic, because it’s important to Logan.  While I field random calls from my father about inconsequential things because my mom isn’t terribly coherent and he’s bored and scared all at the same time.

Provided nothing drastic happens in the meantime, we’re going camping a week from Tuesday, and then I have a girl’s weekend in Palm Springs with my best friend and some friends from high school.  I’m not sure when I’ve needed a vacation more.  And today?  I really really really need to not be asked for more of me.  I’m not sure how much I have left to give.  I’m on empty.

Today is another, new day. After a full night’s sleep, I’m not feeling as desperate. Things are still just as bad, but I’m not feeling as hopeless about it all.

My mother, last I heard, should be coming home today. Poe shall be having major dental surgery next week. Joseph finishes school this week. Logan is back at school with open house tomorrow. My clients’ work is getting accomplished. My to do list is just as long, but I’m not doing too well physically so I’m learning to say “that’s not getting done today.” I even said no to a volunteer thing for school.

While our life is still a shambles for the moment, I’m in a much better mental space.

It’s 5:15am.  I think I got to sleep around 3am.  My dad called us at 12:30am to help with my mother.  She doesn’t look good.  She’s in the hospital again.  I couldn’t sleep.

And now?  It has to be done.  Hopefully it will be cathartic.  BlogHer, my advertising network, sent me a rather gentle email basically saying I haven’t written in two weeks.  They have to do what they have to do as advertisers, and now I need to do whatever it is I need to do, because sometimes, everyone needs a break.  It was a very gentle reminder, but it did make me ask, “What’s keeping me from writing?”  Anger.  Resentment.  Rage.  Fear.  Disappointment.  Anxiety.  A nice little dash of desperation for flavor.  I’m pissed off at the world and just about everything in it.  So I’m just going to spew everything I’m upset with in list form.

Politics.  I’m pissed off.  But I’m not allowed to be pissed off without being labeled a right wing, secret militia, fringe right, obviously one of those Christian, racists.  With a gun, obviously.  Yes, I’m conservative.  Yes, I disagree with almost all the decisions our current president has made.  While I’m not a tea-party member per se, I do agree with many of the tenants they stand for.  Are some of them loony?  Absolutely.  There are some liberal loonies too, so I don’t quite understand why loonies on either side are any big deal.  It’s the law of averages.  I think it’s kind of sad when you fear voicing your opinion.  I’m pissed off that I don’t feel more brave.  On the other hand, I’ll make myself counted with my vote, so I’m not sure it matters.

Also?  I’m pissed at Logan.  Not at Logan himself, but the fact that his body decided to get a nasty cold.  Believe me it’s an inconvenient time, because someone needs to be here at home with him.  As an aside?  He was on some pretty heavy children’s cold medicine yesterday.  At lunch time, “Soup sick to make better feel?”  Then the knock-knock jokes started.  His getting high turns him into a comedic Yoda.

Joseph.  He’s done nothing but be Joseph.  He’s not doing badly.  But because he IS Joseph, and it’s the last week of school for him (BUT not Logan’s, because that would make things too EASY) I have to attend an IEP meeting today to plan the next school year.  At 9am.  On somewhere around 2 hours sleep.  While my unresponsive mother is in the hospital.  Alone, because Poe will be home with Logan.  Who’s sick.  Do you start to see the snowball?

Poe.  Why do I call him Poe?   I can’t remember.  Some privacy thing.  Now, Poe.  Poe is special.  12 years, I’ve loved this man.  And I’m about to spend my life retirement savings to fix his teeth.  Literally.  I just closed our 401Ks and IRAs.  I opened my first 401K with my first paycheck after high school.  Gone into his mouth.  Poof.  Of course he’s only getting 60%.  40% goes to taxes and penalties.  We now have gone through every single cent we ever had.  But he can’t interview without teeth.  And God knows, we’ve tried to fix them in the past to no avail.  He simply has bad teeth.

Unemployment SUCKS.  He’s unemployed.  Still.  And I was anticipating the unemployment check yesterday to deposit to buy groceries.  ‘Cause I am such a rebel.  But instead, it was another claim notice.  Because my freakin’ husband forgot to sign the effing form he just sent in.

And seriously, economy?  You suck.  Poe is a good man.  Poe is a smart man.  Poe is a hard working man who worked nights, went to school mornings, and took over the kids in the afternoons for two years to get a degree in the work he loved.  And now he can’t find a job.

My body.  We’ve been on a pretty stringent healthy diet, and working out pretty hard.  It’s been 3 weeks.  Pounds lost to date?  1.  1.  1!?

Period?  #suckit.

To recap:

Unemployed, still, going on 16 months.  Mother in middle of the night hospital run (still haven’t heard.)  Have to go to IEP on 2 hours sleep, alone.  Then Poe has a dental consult leaving me alone with sick kid, and clients!  We have no money.  Poe’s about to have dental surgery.  I’m pissed off at the world.  Oh, and I might be on my period.

Still here?

Finally, I’m mad at God.  Because seriously.  Last night, after my husband carried my mother to the car for my dad to drive her to the hospital…  Her joints frozen in place, unable to communicate, I got into bed.  I just asked point blank, “Where exactly did You want me to start?”  I’ve already asked what I’m supposed to be learning from all this.  I’ve already asked to be shown the lesson.  I haven’t found it yet.  Do i feel His presence?  No.  My brain says He’s walking with me, due to what I’ve read in scripture.  I don’t feel it.  Scripture says He hears our call.  I don’t feel it.  I don’t even feel like I’m being told to wait, or be patient, or wait on God’s timing.  Just…  Nothing.

We’re in this vast time of awfulness.  I read on another blog (which I don’t read regularly, and so in my addled state, I’m not going to go hunting for) that everyone has an annus horibus (which is Latin and I’m sure I totally butchered it since I’m not looking at her blog.)  Basically, every one has a year.  The one year everyone can look back, point to, and say That!  That was my no-good, horrible, very bad year.  We’re smack dab in the middle of ours, and I’m having trouble seeing anything but an oncoming train at the end of the tunnel.

I haven’t been around the blog in a while.  I keep avoiding the issue.  I keep saying to myself, “I don’t want to whine about the same old stuff.”  That’s bullshit.  I’m censoring myself.  It’s a combo deal.  I found out some family is reading.  I’ve been concentrating on work stuff.  And I have wanted to avoid politics after the spanking I received from some people via email during the election period basically saying that I was entitled to my opinion but that my opinion was wrong and therefore I’m an evil person.  SO.

I’m going to be making a concerted effort.  I’m going to write.  Even if it’s due to a manufactured prompt.  I won’t cross certain lines – mainly some familial lines.  But if politics is pissing me off, I’ll say why.  Because this is my journal and I don’t have to be fair.  I don’t have to show impartiality.  I do not claim to be a journalist.  I write.  I am a writer.  I’m earning my living writing.  But I don’t claim to be a journalist.  If something is cropping up, and my religious beliefs (and therefore many of my morals) start blinking little red *danger* lights in my head, I want to say something.

I’m tired of being scared of others’ opinions of me.

I’m tired of being scared that someone will be mad at me.

I’m tired of being scared that someone will be mean or call me names.

Another blogger wrote some things that were very clarifying for me.  When I get my act together in some sort of comprehensible manner, I’ll write about it, and her post.

I need to consider this a fresh start.

This probably means I’m going to redesign the site.  Sigh.

Poe was handling the morning carline this fine Friday (thank God) morning.  His conversation with a mother (in the actual carline):

Mother:  Hey!  Aren’t you Mr. X*?

Poe:  Um, no?

Mother:  Really?  At Club Midnight*?

Poe:  Um. No.  Nononono.

Mother:  Well…  You’re a really great dancer.

Poe:  Thank you?

What he wanted to say was “And were you a good tipper?”  But he didn’t.  Although he should have.

Of course this comes on the heels of Girl Scout Cookies, hugs, lots of “Thank you Mr. Wilcox,” “Mmmmm those are great tattoos!” And my favorite, “It’s so nice to have a big strong man on the carline.”  (And really?  WTF?)

I’m going to have to start going to carline myself to protect him from the wimmins.

*Dancer and Club name completely made up because Poe couldn’t remember the names.  DOESN’T HE KNOW HE NEEDS TO REMEMBER THIS STUFF SO CAN BLOG ABOUT IT?

As any parent knows, mornings can be rough.  Kids need to be fed, dressed, hygiene attended to, the various items of the day – lunches, homework, jackets etc. all settled upon.  Depending on the number of children, this can look like a zoo.  Now, add the fact that it’s morning, and people are moving slower.  Add the idea of one bathroom for four people.  Poe (being unemployed) and I (being a home business owner) have the advantage over other working parents in that we don’t have to get ready right that second too.  We get up way before them… But that’s more for our sanity, and so we’re not in our grumpy morning attitudes when we get them up.  I’m able to get a start on my workday and know what fires have cropped up during the night.  Not to mention ingesting coffee prior to the stampede.

So – Poe and I are both in our pajamas for the most part when dropping kids off.  Then we can come home and get ready ourselves, without playing referee with our kids.  And you know what?  This works for us.

Enter this idiotic thing…  School Bans Parents from Wearing PJ’s at Drop Off.  Whatever.  Seriously.  You know what?  If I’m in MY car, I get to wear whatever I want.  If I’m on foot, I STILL get to wear whatever I want.  What’s important is that my children arrive to school fed, clean, rested, and prepared.  When I was working outside the home, and I had to be ready to go at the same time as the kids, it only made our morning preparations MORE chaotic.  I like the way I’ve got things going now.  I think something else that’s interesting to note is the complete disdain the principal seems to have for parents in general – regardless of their attire.

Seriously?  Stay out of my business.  Concentrate more on educating my child.  That’s your job, right?

I’ve been extremely delinquent in my blogging.  Basically because things are at such a level of suckage that I can’t stand to write about it.  So here’s a little update on everything.  First, the good.

Joseph is doing great at his new school.  He seems to like it.  He’s very tired as it’s only the 2nd week in, and he’d been out so long, but he’s starting to get in his groove.  I’m cautiously optomistic.

I’m matron of honor in a friend’s wedding coming up in February.  Trying to scrounge together money for the kids’ tux rentals (they’re in the wedding.)  Not to mention the bachelorette party.  I’m pretty sure it’s going to be BYOB and I cook.  Dude.  I can’t afford anything else. dammit.

Logan continues to be… Logan.  There are no words for that little bug.

As for the rest.  Student loans are coming after us, and we’re trying to settle.  They really don’t care that Poe’s been out of work for a year – and no they won’t take payments.  $28k now please.  Actually no -  please isn’t a word they know.  I’ve heard stories of the tactics that debt collectors use, but got to experience it first hand, myself yesterday.  We were personally insulted, our family was personally insulted (although I’m still not sure why) and the man yelled at us.  Not argued – yelled.  As if we had personally taken out a loan against his property.  Dude – you’ve had the account for a week.  He called us liars.  Started questioning each of our expenses.  It was awful and surreal.  I’m not usually on the receiving end of such vitriol – and I’ve taken some shit in  my life.  I don’t remember what I said, but Poe said at some point I said, “Excuse me sir, but how dare you speak this way to a human being?”  It was bad.  At which point my father witnessed my falling to pieces, which prompted my mother to come over, which prompted a potential settlement.  Which I am not handling.  Poe is.  I can’t get back on the phone with them.  I already have ulcers.

We’ve managed to stay current on everything else, by the skin of our teeth.  Poe has tried everything from his actual career line of work to grocery store, to pizza joints.  Now he’s trying to find manual labor.

So when I see Washington saying that things are getting better, I wonder if they’ve actually talked to any of their constituency.  Because it’s not for us.  And I know it’s not for others.

We’ve become Dave Ramsey fans.  Although to use his words, “we have an income problem.”  But using his money tactics for talking to each other, and planning together – Poe and I are both closer, and have a better monetary hand on things.  That’s actually been a good thing.  I don’t feel abandoned to make all the hard decisions myself, and he actually knows blisteringly clear how bleak it is.  But, knowledge is power.  We have a plan to initiate, and while for now that’s mostly treading water, we’re together in it.

So – if you know of a CAD Design/Drafting job – or anything else – open in Southern California, I’d appreciate being able to pass it on to him.

I’m stuck in a living nightmare with one of my children.  I’m not able to process it completely yet here.  One – it’s not over yet, and I’m hoping to have a conclusion to the story tomorrow.  Two – I’m in a limbo of thought and action…  I can’t seem to accomplish anything.  It’s sort of like all my thoughts are reserved for this situation.

I’m not trying to be mysterious.  It’s just a really long story, and I’ll need to tell it in a manner that goes down the timetable of what has happened.  Here’s the really short version – while in the school’s care, my son made a really bad decision in which he could have been killed.  Because of that, my son is in a mental institution against our will.  Further to that, we were unable to get him out on time because the doctor can’t be bothered to work on the weekends.  And due to that fact, my son was almost killed tonight by another mental patient.

He’s supposed to come home tomorrow.  But I say that with really fat air quotes because I’ve also been told, “All due respect, ma’am, we don’t need your consent.”

If  he doesn’t come home tomorrow, we’re taking legal action.

Twice in less than a week my son has almost died when in the hands of a state entity that supposedly knows better than me how to take care of him.

I’m hanging on by a thread.  Mainly, all my energy is being put into being nice and mad, so I don’t become complacent and let them bulldoze their way through our lives.

I may go through the whole process of what has happened, but I simply don’t have the energy right now.  Please be patient with my not being particularly communicative at this time.

I watch a particular channel. And on that channel there is a commercial that is run an awfully lot. While I think it is in bad taste for this network to run this advertisement (and I planning on writing them about it) – This is about the product, not the network.

Ashley Madison dot com. I’m not giving them link love. The Ashley Madison Agency, est. 2001. Tagline? Life is Short. Have an affair.™

The commercial offends me. I suppose it shouldn’t, but it does. A couple sleeping in bed. The woman is snuggled up to man, snoring her full head off. You don’t see too much of her, but can tell she’s on the heftier side. The man awakens and sees the liquor by the side of the bed and sneaks a look at the woman. He creeps out of bed, grabs his clothes and starts headed downstairs. We see that he’s no catch either. The voiceover intones something like, “Anyone can handle having a bad one night stand. But not when it’s for the rest of your life.” And then we see the wedding picture of the couple. Screen goes to black and you see the web address. “When divorce is not an option.”

I was so offended that I looked up the website.

It’s a “discrete” dating service. To have an affair.

I’m NOT naive. There are hookup sites all over the internet. However, they don’t seem to “promote” affairs. They’re more of a whomever can do whatever (or whomever) they want, and here’s a way to connect. This site on the other hand is promoting itself as the solution to marital discord. The FAQ is both interesting and appalling all at once. I don’t want to copy the content here, because I don’t know the law lines on copy stealing vs. the right to criticize.

My husband and I have been married 11 years. Long, hard years. I’ve born two children. I’m bigger than I used to be. I’m older, and life has worn me down. That’s all true. I’m too busy to fuss over myself too much. You know what, though? The same is true of my husband. Neither one of us is running into the arms of another person. And if there are such problems in the marriage that another person feels the need to have an affair? Then those problems need to be addressed – not “safe discrete options” given to them.

My husband encouraged me to write this. I asked for his impression.

It’s insinuating that marriage is just an extension of a one night stand and everybody makes mistakes – it’s bullshit. It basically makes me feel like every marriage is in the same boat of a couple getting married in Vegas while drunk after knowing each other for two hours.

I don’t have anything else to say on the subject, I suppose. The site exists. Obviously people are making use out of it or else it wouldn’t have been in business for the last 8 years. They’re making a profit. The network (which I will be dealing with separately) are making a profit. There’s nothing illegal (I don’t think) about it, since nobody pays attention to the fidelity laws still in existence.

But it says a lot about today’s society that a company like that is so mainstream that it is shown on TV during prime watching hours. Like it was an ad for canned soup. It’s NOT taboo. And that’s a sad, sad shame.

Dear U.S. Government,

I would like to provide my services to you to post the proposed health care bill on the internet.

I’ve thought about it, and I am, indeed, prepared in my home office for such an undertaking. I would need about 3 days and a babysitter. And maybe lots of coffee. You would also have to supply the bandwidth, as I’m sorry – my blog can’t take that kind of traffic. Please let me know if you’d like a contract. You’ll find my hourly rate to be very reasonable.

No?

You were just afraid to tell me that I’m too stupid to read it? And you might want to sneak some stuff in there? And you don’t even really want the members voting on it to see it, much less the little peabrained cattle like me?

Oh, I see. It’s ok, I understand. I’ll compensate you with my own voting record.