Perpetual Smile

This turned out to be a longer post than I intended. It’s (most) of my woes, so if you want to skip it and read something more cheery, I recommend the Fun stuff category. Otherwise, leave a comment and tell me about your woes. It’s not all about me here, anyway.

This morning on my way to work, I passed a Sunoco and glanced at the price. It was $1.99 a gallon (cash). While most of us rejoice at this lower, Walmart-style price, there’s that nagging feeling in the back of my head that says, “this is bad.” I am only vaguely aware that the reason for the lower gas prices is the declining stock market. The people around me who know about these things — like KJ at work — tell me that the price of gas is going to keep going down, since the stock market won’t be going up anytime soon.

It’s a Catch 22, just like my own financial situation. I ranted a little about this on Scars Can Speak (the Letters of Love blog), and I’ve been writing in my own journal every day about different ways to tackle this problem. Either way, I lose on something. If, for example, I get a second job, I’ll be doing even more running from place to place and who knows how I’ll get my school work done for the rest of the semester. If I get more hours or can go full-time at my current job, I’ll only be able to take two classes next semester rather than getting a full head start on my BA. If I can’t get more hours at my current job and can’t get a second job, I’ll have to leave my current job (which I really like) for a full-time corporate job. Yes, I’d be making more money, but I wouldn’t be able to go back to school full-time for a while. I’d have to be a part-time student. It would take forever. I am so career-oriented and want everything done yesterday that it would drive me nuts. (more…)

I just had sort of a revelation: Even though I opted out of NaNoWriMo this year, I still should have tried to write about 2000 words a day to finish The Cure Program. I guess it’s kind of realistically impossible to cram my days with all the things I try to schedule myself for, but still. I haven’t touched The Cure Program in a few weeks, even though the entire point of opting out of NaNo was to finish last year’s novel.

Now that I spent all of last night working on the Letters of Love website — I managed to mess up the WordPress installation there while trying to move it to a new directory — and have no energy to do any homework today, I think I’ll spend some time doing some actual writing. I think I deserve it, after this week. At least, my novel deserves it.

I hit a roadblock when I was last working on it, but Professor H. — my editor — offered me some suggestions and I think I have a way now. At least, I have something to try.

Apparently more and more grocery stores are setting up shopping cart wash stations. These stations are supposed to kill all of the germs living and breeding on your shopping cart, just waiting to give you or your kid a cold.

Now, I’m all for washing my hands after I use a public bathroom or sneezing on my arm. I’ll sometimes use that Purell hand sanitizer. For the life of me, I cannot begin to understand why people — particularly new parents — are such germophobes. It’s a proven fact that we need germs to protect our bodies from diseases. They help us to build up healthy immune systems so we don’t catch dangerous diseases such as tuberculosis or the measles. The more exposure you have, the healthier your immune system is; you get sick less. The flu shot gives us just enough exposure to keep us immune from the flu virus, by exposing us to the germs that cause the flu.

So thanks, germophobes. Because of you, our entire species will be killed off within twenty years by the common cold, all because of your damn shopping cart sanitization stations and your stupid handiwipes at the cheaper supermarkets. Captain Trips, here we come.

Nothing about today is good. My back pain is back; I spent last night tossing and turning because not only was it in my lower back but also in my front hips. I also had a bad dream, so all in all it made for a pretty sleepless night. I dreamed I was some blond runaway and my runaway, brunette and abusive boyfriend got me knocked up. He beat me up so bad that I had a miscarriage. The dream flickered to me lying on a hospital table to me in some house where everyone was dead and I had a gun to defend myself from — I’m assuming — my abusive dream boyfriend. Talk about a vivid — and somewhat depressing — mind. I don’t dream that vividly very often, but when I do they’re usually really crazy.

Maybe I’m having more issues with what happened to me than I initially thought.

I went to the chiropractor this afternoon and then to Wal-Mart. I got some stuff to make cards with for the Letters of Love Greeting Card Challenge and stuff for my crafts class on Monday. I also got some sugar cookie mix, which was a pick-me-up — at the time.

Then I got home, and all hell broke loose. Mike and I got into a fight, Lauren and I got into a fight, and now I have no energy to get anything done that I need to get done. I have piles upon piles of things to do, and it’s so overwhelming that I don’t want to do any of it. I hung out with Nikki last night and although it was a nice break it’s just another reminder that I hardly ever get to just relax. Even when I’m hanging out with my friends or Mike, my mind is constantly racing, thinking of all the things I need to get done. I can’t relax, because I’m too busy being preoccupied with what I think I should be doing instead of having fun.

To top it off, my McAfee subscription is expired. I probably shouldn’t be online right now.

I’m not a political person, in the sense that I barely pay attention. This election was really the first time I’d paid much attention, aside from all of the Bush drama. Even then I didn’t really follow everything (in either case). I guess that’s kind of a good thing, because I tend to miss out on all of the drama and mudslinging and (maybe) get right down to the facts.

I do, however, want to take the time to reflect on the fact that we have just elected our first African-American president. I also want to take the time to point out to all of the paranoid, the bigots, the static people and the Obama-haters in general that he won and he deserves a fair chance. I keep hearing people say the rudest things about him, that he’s a socialist who wants to ruin our country. Get the facts, people. I’ve heard people scoff at us now having an African-American president. Get off your racist high horses and get into the twenty-first (or is it now the twenty-second?) century. I’ve heard people say that we’ll just have to see how he does, as if he couldn’t possibly do any good. If he didn’t have any potential, he wouldn’t have been elected. People would not have voted for him if there wasn’t something there. Just listen to the man speak for five minutes and it’s plain to see that he’s got brains. He’s got eloquence — almost an MLK kinda thing going on — and — wait for it — he’s got a plan.

He’s also from a place where many of us are from. He was an underdog, raised by a single mother and grandmother. He wasn’t some Ivy League kid with everything handed to him. He really worked his ass off to get where he is, and that is something that everyone should appreciate. He is the first President in a long time to have roots in the middle-class most of us are in.

I’m really happy that our country has finally made a good choice and that we have broken two barriers with this election: social and racial. Whether you agree or not, it is what it is.

I’m also really tired of the discrimination against gays in this country. (more…)

To start with, my car is intent on killing me. It has a lot of weird electrical problems that can’t be fixed because there’s no telling where it’s coming from. My windshield wipers work only when they want to — as in, never. Even if I disconnect the battery — which I have to if I’m going to be somewhere for more than two hours, or else some unknown source will drain it — sometimes it still won’t start when I reconnect it. Sometimes I have to put it into Neutral before it will start. Sometimes the windows won’t go down, or the window fuse will blow. There’s more that I’m forgetting, but that’s basically it. (more…)

Sometimes I feel like the world’s biggest liar. Okay, not a liar. But I do feel like people may think I’m lying. Do I sound paranoid? Stay with me. I’ll explain.

I go to the chiropractor every Wednesday. Today was my fourth visit, and Dr. Rosa — my regular doctor — is on vacation. The chiropractic assistant (massage therapist?) always asks me how I’m feeling and to rate it on a scale of 1 to 10. Sounds pretty basic, right?

It’s not. When she asked me today, I said, “Well, my back is all better, as long as I’m very careful about how I sit and stuff.”

“Good,” she said, making a note. “And your neck?”

“My neck is — well, it’s stiff — but it’s more my arms.”

“And how would you rate the pain?”

“Well, it’s so on and off it’s hard to tell. I guess… a six?”

It is so hard to explain to someone something that isn’t always there, or plays musical chairs. Like, when my back hurt I could say, “it was an eight all day today, but now it’s about a five,” or “it’s been a four today.” With my arms, one spot could be a three, another could be a nine, yet another could be a six and another could be a 999939572359i27t59275. The next day I could have a pain number of two in my wrist for a few minutes, ten in my upper arm thirty minutes later, then sharper pain in my wrist. The scale system really doesn’t work, unless I were to walk around with a notepad noting each spot and the scale number. That would get awfully tedious. I mean, I have a hard enough time doing things as it is because of this. If I were to stop each and every time just to write it down, I’d never get anything done!

Besides, what would I do at the end of the day? Find the mean, median and mode of all of the numbers? Would those calculations be, like, the final scale number I give to the people at my chiropractor’s office? In that case, I’d better pick up a notepad and a calculator.

PS: I’ve edited all of my pre-diagnosis posts and put them in the Thoracic Outlet Syndrome category, if anyone is interested in reading them from the beginning. There are probably — no, definitely — more that I haven’t gotten to. I’ll get there. Eventually.

Never, ever, ever tell someone “I need to talk to you about something” if it has to wait more than five minutes to be talked about. I think my head is going to fall off and my heart is going to come out of my chest. I don’t want anymore bad news. I don’t want to have a serious, dire conversation. I have had enough bad news in the last few months, thank you.

Last night, when I got home from my marathon school day (11:15 to 8:30, woo!), I found out that my grandmother’s best friend Elaine is dying. Cancer. For all I know, she could have passed in the four hours I was at work. A couple months earlier, I found out my friend Liane from high school died. Before that, during the summer, I found out that my Grandpa Wish passed. (I can’t find that post for some reason. UGH.) Plus, yesterday was the three year anniversary of my miscarriage. To top it off, I made a stupid post earlier today admitting my old battle with self-injury.

My nerves are fucked right now.

Today is a bad day, and also a good day. Three years ago something very big happened to me, something that I will always carry with me. I’m not going to be sad right now, though. Good things happened today.

I got my transcript transfer and graduation applications! I just finished filling them out and will drop them off on my way to Creative Writing later. I’m really excited about this. I need to fill out an application for SCSU now, though.

Today is also a bad pain day — partly because of the TOS, partly because of the flu shot I got last night and partly because of my lower back. I’m trying to get through the day, but all I want to do is go home and lie down with The Host. (Nope, still haven’t gotten to finish it yet. Sigh.)

On a totally random note, I went to Burger King during my break between classes. It took forever to get there because of unexplainable traffic, but when I did get there it took another year to get through the drive-thru. (That particular branch is always slow, whether you go inside or not.) When I finally got the window, paid and got my food, the girl asked me if I wanted any sauce. I said yes, she handed me my bag and just before the window closed I heard the girl next to her say, “For what? She’s only got four nuggets.” (I had fries, too, thank you!) So before I drove off I loudly said that I wouldn’t be coming back. Stupid Burger King.

Anyway.

Little one, I hope you are safe and happy wherever you are. Maybe someday we will meet again, for good this time.

I don’t think I can sit here much longer but I need my Visual Basic professor to look at my programs!

Lately I’ve fallen ridiculously behind in VB, which I’d been sort of ahead in to begin with. At this point I’ve completely given up on trying to read the chapters, and have been printing out his lecture slides instead. I still have two and a half assignments to finish, and tonight he is giving us another one. At least I’m all caught up with Creative Writing (I just have to edit poems to hand in for my portfolio).

Between all of the pain I’ve been in lately and this maddening rush to catch up on school work, I’m beat. Pile on a few other personal things and I’m ready to hop on a plane to Florida. (Besides, it’s warm down there!) I like to say that I thrive under pressure, and normally I do, but right now I’d rather ignore certain things than face them like a man — um, woman.

As for something totally random, I managed to smash two of my fingers in the door of the Director of Student Activities’ office. My middle finger has a crescent shaped blood blister below my nail and it hurts. It’s kind of cool looking but it kind of grosses me out.

NaNoWriMo starts in less than ten days and I still need to finish my characters’ profile sheets and my outline. I wonder if my professors and boyfriend would be okay with it if I totally ignored everything else just so I can get ready to write?