Ready for a Vacation

Such a week.

Jon is stressed out because his bullshit fast food job is stressful.  He called me one day to tell me that his arm was twitching and that he felt weird all day and wondered if he should go to the doctor.   No one is doing their jobs, which makes it more difficult for people actually trying to do their jobs.  I can certainly understand that.  Someone was fired today for arguing with the boss, then shoving him.  Big mistake. Unfortunately, this caused Jon to have to stay an extra hour and half when he was already working 9 hours, and is horrible for morale.  I'd love to be able to tell him "hey, quit your shit job" but we need the money.  He knows this and is trying to not just blurt out that he quits.  He needs to fill out apps. That is all I can tell him. Fill out applications everywhere while you still have a job. They want people who already have jobs. Don't know why. Just works that way.

My boss also has been flaky lately. Well, flakier than usual.  I wrote down I want vacation for the week after this one and he didn't really look at the calendar then scheduled me my usual 40 hours.  Jon needs the vacation more than I do, but still, I was highly irritated because I already agreed with Jon that we would go away for a while. Mental health holiday and such.  So I had to argue with Tim to get my vacation. Sorry, you should have looked at the calendar.  The awesome thing about my job is that we finished out the month 60 percent over sales plan and I get a bonus the second pay period in March.  I'm curious to see how much that will be. I've never had a store bonus that high before.  It always comes in handy with bill paying and such.

Jon is worried he won't get to go on vacation since that guy was fired today.  I think if they want to keep him on staff, and, from what I gather, they do...they even want to promote him, they'll let him go on vacation.  He needs some time to just calm down. 

Personally, I need some time without demands.  The things in my life that make demands on my time that I chose to have in my life, I don't mind; such as my pets and my husband.  But I need to cut loose the demands of my  job at some point...and stresses about bills too...even if its just for a week.

My Auntie Max wanted us to drive down to Florida to stay at her place. Would be nice. Lots of moola in gas that we don't have. Never been there. Sounds nice. But it will be over run with stupid spring-breakers anyway.  Also, its a hell of a long drive for only a week.  So sounds like we'll be going to my parents house doing who knows what again. I love seeing them, but sometimes I really don't know what to get into; just like I don't know what to get into around home in Michigan sometimes.

Typical Weekend

The great gluten-free experiment ended yesterday with me eating a bacon cheeseburger with toasted bun yesterday at Sonic.  Immediately my eyes glazed over, I felt lethargic and sleepy and yet somehow on edge. By the end of the day my stomach was burbling with gas and my ankles were aching even though I hadn't done any walking or standing all day like I would at work.  They still ache.  So I am going gluten-free. I felt better in those two weeks than I have in a long time. I got hungry regularly.  My moods were more balanced.  That sort of thing.  My joints hurt less. Less stomach upset.

Jon's friends piled over for Magic last night.  They left at 4 am.  We were both tired of them by 2am, but they seemed to be having a nice time and its hard to get any of them to come over so we let it ride. They self selected to go home eventually.  The first to go home, naturally, was Levon.  We tried to give him a ride home--considering he staggered and accidentally hit Chris with a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels--but he refused and we thought maybe it would be better if he got pulled over. Maybe, in his head, he'd have a harder, more difficult time rationalizing that it is okay to drink two beers plus an entire pint of rum---at least four times a week. 

Levon is an awesome person when not drinking heavily. When drinking heavily he becomes surly and strange.  His natural feelings of being threatened by everyone else's sexuality come to the surface as defensive posturing.  He's threatened by homosexuals even though none of his friends are homosexual...and feels immensely threatened by jokes of homosexuality within their male-bonding time. They are close friends.  Sometimes I do refer to them as Jon's boyfriends.  None of them are anti-gay or feel that gays are second class citizens.  Levon has some hang-ups, apparently.  No one knows why. Maybe, deep-down, he's afraid he might be gay.  He feels threatened by guys talking guy-talk about girls.  I assume because I was in the room? Don't know. Didn't bother me. They are GUYS...I've been around predominantly males my entire life.  I don't feel threatened or offended by idle, joking chatter. At one point he apologized to me that I was surrounded by guys last night. I told him not to be, I was fine with it, really.  Mostly I was bored since I wasn't playing Magic and they were being loud so I couldn't watch tv either.  But I wasn't feeling threatened or out of place.  If I had, they would have been asked to leave.

He needs help.  More than any of us can provide.  Most of us do not drink heavily or even every day of the year.  He knows he needs help but seems helpless to get it.  He wants a girlfriend but doesn't know how to obtain that either. Poor guy. He's going to have to come to some self-realizations. He's not 18 anymore.  That's a lot of the problem.  Girls his age don't want to date a 25 year old who acts like a teenager.

Lots of laundry today. Sent Jon to have the oil changed in my car. I hate those guys.  It's just easier to send him. They don't yell at him about things that are wrong or are perceived wrong.  Went through the automatic car wash so car is all shiny and yellow again. Probably won't last long.  I shall probably have to see Ruth and then it will be a chocolate covered banana again, but at least the road salt is off of it. 

Bought curtains to replace the aging plastic blinds.  They are purple with small white polka dots. Jon, surprisingly, doesn't seem to mind. I figured he'd feel they were too girlie.  The adult curtains were boring so I went with kids' blackout curtains.  My choices were purple, hot pink, lime green, lime green with stripes, and purple with polka dots.  It was a happy looking section and I like that in my house.  I don't abide boring very well.  Who said adults can only have white, brown, black, red, green, and beige curtains? Blech. 

Used joint compound to fill in the holes from the old sun-rotten blinds.  Just need to let it dry then sand, then paint over it and will be done.  Glad I can do whatever I want in my house. It kind of makes up for all the things that are broken. I would be miserable in a rental.

Made split pea soup with ham for the first time. It looks ugly but is tasty and pretty easy. Just time consuming with all the boiling. 

Not all that Interesting.

I have been gluten free for one week, three days. Four more days until I try something with gluten in it to see what happens.  So far, I have more energy, am not getting lethargic after lunch, my joints ache less, and I have less stomach upset.  Also, I have been getting hungry and there is much less nausea involved in the mornings.  Used to be I couldn't even think about food until about 4 pm. So I think there is a pretty good chance that I am allergic to gluten. We shall see.

Went to a midwife ghetto with my pal Ruth. Apparently at U of M, they keep all the midwives quarantined in a special little ward just for them in the midst of normal ob/gyns or something.  Midwifery might be catching.    We wandered outside for ten minutes or so puzzling out how to get into the building, and which part of the building we needed to go to.  We finally chose the children's ward, which is where I want to go if I ever have to be admitted.  Bright colors, pretty lights, and stuffed animals. Yep. Fuck all that white adult hospital shit.  And the lady at the desk sent us up to the 9th floor, then the lady at the 9th floor desk sent us into a whole other building for the midwifery conference.  From then on, it was all glamorous talk about mucus plugs and breaking water.  Then, a tour, back to Floor 9, where the rooms are equipped with showers, tubs, huge television sets, and, apparently, the interwebs.  I commenced to tease Ruth about posting Facebook statuses while in labor.  Then it was tasty Thai food and back home.

Tuesday was declared Redford Mental Health Day and at least three of its residents skipped work.  Me, Jon, and his pal Levon all decided to just not go to work.  It was nice just lounging around the house doing absolutely nothing, I must admit.  Our days off are usually busy for some reason.  All that shopping for food and cooking of the food that we don't want to do during the week.

Today is rainy but at least it doesn't seem to be freezing to anything.  Think I'll drive out to Ruth's. Nothing better going on before work today.  Jon already left.

A Gluten-Free Me?

 I am embarking on an adventure to find out whether or not I have an allergy to gluten.  This is day number four.  So far I am feeling better. Less icky tummy in the mornings, less lethargy during the day and I have been in a predominantly good mood for a few days.

Weird, I know, especially since its the full moon and I've been dealing with insane customers all week.  The only horrible customer I haven't seen during the full moon is the smelly and disgusting cat lady. I'm sure I will see her today or tomorrow, unfortunately.

I've even been getting hungry! Wow!  That usually doesn't happen, at least not several days in a row. 

My personal expert who has been down this road with many food allergies (unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it)  tells me to be gluten free for two weeks then eat the bread, pizza, or wheat-infested entree of choice and see what happens.  So I shall see.

I am looking forward to finding out, actually.  This may change/fix all the many horrible MY BODY HATES ME kind of things that have been going on for years and years and have actually been getting much, much worse.

And, I get to see Ruth this weekend sometime while Petting Zoo is being played:) 

Shane the Persistent

My husband's friend Shane apparently is "resetting" his sleep pattern again; something he does every few weeks for no good reason I can think of because he works at a bar, so he goes to work at 10 pm and regularly gets home between 3 and 4 am, so that's just his sleep schedule, there is no reason to bother with resetting his pattern as far as I can tell.  So, this morning, Jon receives a long phone call that Shane is hungry, doesn't want to eat alone, and is craving a "bar burger."

Of course, although I don't practice the mad, national holiday of the Super Bowl, that's the annoying event that is going on, so the last place anyone who doesn't worship this stupid, ass-patting sport would ever want to go...is...a bar.   So Shane tries his best to get Jon, who also hates this sport, to go to a bar and get a bar burger with him, fails, and yet, keeps persisting and calling back. Jon, predictably, turns off his phone.

Jon eventually turns his phone back on, and gets all these text messages from, of course, Shane, that apparently no one he knows wants to go to the bar and get a bar burger. Poor Shane.  He's actually convinced Angus beef is the best because the advertising agencies tell him so. Good beef is good beef, the species of cow matters little, actually...what matters more is what that cow eats and if it is a healthy cow.  My uncle's Jersey cows taste phenomenal, but then, they eat mainly pasture, have no hormones injected into them and are processed locally. 

So, Jon, for reasons I will never understand, calls Shane and listens to more whining.  Subway sounds good to me, Shane is still set on a bar burger, and Jon wants Wendy's.  So, somehow, between all the whining about Shane not wanting to go further than a mile for his food (weird city people), Jon says he'll pick him up and they'll "go places."

At this point I am annoyed at Shane because he's so whiny.  I refuse to go along, which was the original plan.  So, Jon has dutifully promised to bring me a sub from Subway, then he and Shane will eat Wendy's or whatever the hell they've decided on, and then Jon is going to "Shane-nap" Shane and force him to come over to our house.  He, for some reason, is annoyed because we won't let him smoke cigarettes in our house and has to go outside to smoke.  I say, smoke less, it's better for you and you won't waste as much money.  Apparently Jon says his offer to go get Shane is his way of annoying Shane back by forcing him to do what Jon wants instead of what Shane wants.

As for the rest of the story, I am sure I will have to listen to grown men playing "Magic"  but then again, I won't have to deal with sitting in Shane's basement wonderland of boring.  You'd think the man would want some fresh air and sunlight, but, no, he seems to think he's the Crypt Keeper or something.  I will never understand Basement Dwelling City Boys.

Anatomy of an Arguement

I didn't want to fight. But found myself in a fight none the less.  Seems there are always underlying issues.  Nothing new.  Just some of them never seem to resolve...and new oddities begin to surface such as my relatively new inability to eat yogurt because it contains live organisms...seems I feel horrified for the stupid little bacteria...I mean, would YOU like to be eaten alive?  And, for exactly the same reason, my strange new disgust at semen. How...horrible, really.  I didn't tell Jon about my new phobias to have the issue used against me in an argument, and yet that happened...he said it was awfully "convenient" an excuse.  How that hurt, especially because there was no truth to it.  And, yes we are still having sex, its not that I'm barring the door at night or anything, I just no longer do certain things I used to do.  Also, I have little interest in sex lately.  Most of the time, no matter what, I cannot orgasm, which makes it an exercise in frustration.  No idea why or what exactly has changed.  Used to be quite simple.  I actually believe that my body has begun to hate me and I have little patience with myself.

I am not a germophobe.  I will eat and drink after people I know and love. I rarely wash my hands unless for a good reason...like I went poo...and I shun antibacterial soap...it just makes the germs stronger.  I have only taken antibiotics for strep throat, tonsillitis and sinus infections...which I let go too long because I didn't realize it wasn't just a cold/flu.  Plus, I abhor doctors.  Haven't been to so much as a gynecologist/doctor/dentist for five years now. Not that I could ever afford to go.  No insurance, isn't America grand when her people can't even afford medical care?

The underlying issues are easier to identify the more years we are together.  My mental state, which gets terrifically iffy in the winter because I hate winter and I hate that there is little to no sunlight...and the fact that Jon feels he should somehow craft a magic potion and be able to "cure" me of...anything that's making me sad.  I have assured him, that while sweet, it is too grandiose a goal for him to set for himself.  Of course, he never wants to hear that.  Yes, he does make me happy...but no, he's not going to just happen across some magic bullet for all that has ailed me since I was born.

He also hates that I have virtually no "look forward" in me, rarely make any plans, and never "hope" for the best.  Never have, never will.  Lots of those things were driven out of my system in childhood.  "Hope" accounts for nothing...only "doing" gets results. And, no I wasn't taught.  I learned that on my own.  He thinks it is marvelously depressing.  Maybe it is.  Plan for the worst. Yep, that's me, and, even then, when the "worst" happens, it can always get worse.  If I feel like doing something, I will, I'm not going to set it into stone and say things like "On Thursday, at 11 am, I am going to have my hair cut."

Also, I feel quite cooped up and hampered by city life.  Maybe I want to wander around my own backyard unnoticed by the general populace and take long pointless walks to nowhere...breathe actual clean air, see maybe only one car in an hour, hear trees moving in the wind, smell grass or snow, or all the things that make me happy...is it any wonder I feel cooped up?  I keep feeling like I am trapped.  Jon says well, we could just move.  I think he has forgotten how enormously expensive that process was the last time we moved.  And, this time, we have no savings account.  Yeah, sure we are going to sell a house on which the only thing we have managed to repair/fix/replace in three years is the front porch. The plumbing is still a shambles and has gotten even shakier...and such is life.  So, I feel he is overly optimistic.

Jon actually got offended that I stopped the playback of the tv to listen to something he was talking about because I found I couldn't concentrate on both things.  This has gotten worse in me.  If two people are talking, even if one is on tv, I can no longer concentrate on both, it leaves me irritated and with a feeling like my head is going to explode. I used to be quite good at listening to both things.  I have no idea why stopping Netflix from playing for a moment was so offensive since I figured the person sitting next to me was more important than some talking head on a documentary.

I know Jon loves me. He puts up with loads of my eccentricities without a whimper, but its the old ones he's never been able to help me conquer and the new, strange ones which neither of us understand that he's having trouble dealing with. And, I suppose, so I am.  I love him too, which is why I am so upset that we had a fight.

Maybe I shouldn't have chosen "Snow White: A Tale of Terror"

So, as usual, I have a day off and I become obsessive about something.  It's ridiculous.  Why can't I just have a day off where my mind doesn't go into hyper drive?

Today's obsession:  How to Become More "Girlie." Yep.  I have no clue and never have.  In fact, I am prone to abhor most anything women who are more feminine than me enjoy.  And yet, I will try fail, and try again...and feel like an idiot.

And why should I care, anyway?

That answer is easy. I think Jon, in lots of ways, feels emasculated by me.  For the longest periods I have been to sole breadwinner and I also am quite physically strong and quite independent. I think there is something leftover in the psyche of men and they want the women in their lives to need them.  Not to say that I don't need Jon, I do.  I just think its not as obvious as he would like it. I've never been the picture of a damsel in distress.

He has, over a period of several years wanted me to wear, act, think, become more feminine....and been supportive in any effort I have made to that end.  The problem is, no matter what clothes I wear, any makeup I put on, how my hair is cut, I always revert to old habits.  I feel silly in makeup and I feel like a blazing idiot while wearing a dress or skirt unless I am drinking.  And I hate looking at my reflection in mirrors, always have, or looking at photos of myself.

My sister in law wanted her wedding party to look nice for her wedding. I found I quite liked the acrylic nails until they grew out, then I obsessed with peeling them off because I couldn't stand the thought of soaking my fingernails in acetone to dissolve the damn things and then, of course, would have never been able to afford the upkeep on them. So, for a year after their wedding my nails were brittle and constantly breaking because the acrylic nails wrecked my natural ones. And, yet I liked the nails. They looked nicer than the ones I am constantly breaking at work.

Just seems wrong that women have to "poison" themselves to become more attractive.  I have dyed my hair for several years. Ten, maybe?  Don't really know.   I like having reddish hair.  Too bad I can never figure out how to style my own hair. Even when I do have it professionally cut I can never make it look as nice as the hairdresser can...and I am a perfect horror about doing more than brushing and washing it...and mostly I don't even brush it.

Clothes are a joke.  I, for some reason, cannot seem ever to lose weight.  All the clothes I actually like don't come in such large sizes.  Doesn't matter that my body seems to reject food, or that once I eat, I feel ill and my head gets fuzzy and I can't think.  I had a scare once that I was pregnant, because every time I tried to eat or do....anything...I'd feel nauseous.  I've never actually recovered from that.  I still don't like to eat much before 4 pm...and then will usually eat at 10pm for my one meal of the day then go to bed.  And, yet, I swear I am still gaining weight.  I'd eat if I felt like it. I really would.  I'd love to wake up and be hungry and not regret the food I just ate.

And, yes, I am depressed today.  I often am. I don't know the answer to that either.  I have a houseful of dogs, cats, a rabbit,and a husband who all love me, and great friends who worry about me, and I appreciate them more than they even know but I can never really shake depression for long. I have never been able to do that.  I can hide from it for a time, and then, it haunts me.

So maybe becoming more feminine would give me a chance at playing someone else...anyone else.  Maybe it would be good for me, if only I had the tenacity to keep it up...