So, I haven't blogged anything in over a week. And for good reason. I write Monday through Friday for my full time job. I usually love my job, though I don't always love the subject matter. I write about crime and the perpetrators. I don't get to pick my poison. Some weeks are pretty mundane and I fly through my assignments. Other weeks I wish I had some brain bleach. I can't undo what I read and write about. I also have to speak to these people. Without hurting them. I am sometimes bothered by how pleasant I manage to be. I have discovered that I am a very good actress. I have also learned the fine art of shutting up and waiting out the other person, particularly when the other person does not really want to speak to you. I need information and I am going to get it, damn it.
|I would most certainly be fired if I used this voicemail, but I'll hang onto this until I retire.|
So, anyway, that doesn't have a lot to do with why I haven't been around, but it is a good beginning. I have to work. And in order to work, I have to use the computer. As some of you know, I'm having problems with migraines (see the horrible news about my loss of coffee). This problem has turned into some weird thing where I am now at the end of my 28th day with a wicked headache. Yep. 28 days. Oh, wait. There was one day where I went to the ER, convinced a doctor I was not a frequent flyer, and got two shots of Dilaudid (AKA: Hospital Heroin) in my rear. The next day, I had the worse hangover ever. I went to work, without the headache I had previously had, but with a different one. It disappeared after I took three Advil and drank copious amounts of water. No coffee. That's right. I was sooo good. Then, the original headache came back. Bright and early the next morning. It seems to be aggravated by the computer screen. As well as the TV, my HTC Evo, and my tablet. It does not like technology. It may be a time-traveling headache from 1985. It does not seem to understand or appreciate the high contrast, brightness, and huge number of mega pixels we have access to in 2012. (FYI: I have no idea what I am talking about. I'm looking at a computer screen and my brain is burning behind my eyeballs).
|My eyes! My eyes!|
That, dear readers, is why I have been limiting my time with luxury writing and Facebook. And, dang it, I miss laughing at Facebook. But then, my face starts tingling and the back of my head starts throbbing and I have to weigh the pros and cons. Stupid health. Why are you so important?
|Maybe these will work.|
So who am I and why would you want to be all up in my business anyway? Maybe just because you wanna. I'm a mom. I am a teensy bit opinionated and I'm going to use this as a forum to let loose stuff that I feel like I need to keep in. We all do that, don't we? I think a lot of us say that we don't, but more of us do than not.
I've got a great husband in The Mayor. Sure, we both do things to tick each other off, but we've been married for almost 14 years, so that is bound to happen. And, if you tell me that it doesn't, well, you are a big liar. And I don't want to be your friend. We are opposites, though. And I think we do a pretty good job of respecting that about each other. It has taken a while for that to happen, but it has. I understand his natural desire to have a large group of friends and be the guy that every one likes. I think it is great to be that person. I also think it would be easier if I was that person.
|I'd like to be part of that couple.|
I am very "selectively social" and I tend to hold people at an arms-length while I "inspect" the goods. I have a lot on my plate, and to be honest, I don't want to waste my time being "friends" with a bunch of people. I'd rather have a couple of really good friends I know I can let my guard down with and not have to worry about what is said after I leave. I want friends I don't have to "try" around. I just don't have time for that. My main thing is that I hate being bothered, and I find that acquaintances do that a lot. Real friends understand your life and don't ask too much of you.
My kids. They are little pictures of me and The Mayor. First, came Dolly. She got her nickname because she was a preemie and wasn't much bigger than a doll at a smidgen under 3 pounds. Now, at eight-years-old, I think she leans a little more towards Bride of Chucky than Baby Alive, but that's just me. I'm figuring out more about her every day. She's a bit of a puzzle.
Then, came Buddy. It is funny that I call him Buddy, considering that is the nickname of a former boss I absolutely detest. But, this little five-year-old guy is totally my Buddy. He is a super Mama's boy. He is also very much a tiny Man. He has arrested nearly every piece of furniture in our house. And I think he owns almost every type of toy gun and weapon available in stores at the present second. Wait, nope, I think a new one was just created.
If you decide to follow, you'll learn more about me, The Mayor, Dolly, and Buddy. That is if I can figure out what the ransom is for this headache!
|If not for my family, this would probably be me.|