Over my dead body!

Take THAT, severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2), if that's even your real name.

I don't have you, nyah-nyah!  :P 

Not that I thought I did.  Until yesterday when I went to the doctor for my annual check-up.  As my luck would have it, Sunday afternoon my ear started hurting like h-e-double hockey sticks, especially when I yawned or opened my mouth.  And then Monday when I woke up, I couldn't hear out of that ear. It didn't hurt anymore, but it felt like it was jammed full of . . . well, cotton, I suppose.  Sound-proof cotton.  Sure, that's a thing.

So off I went to my already-scheduled appointment, feeling like crap but hey! What a coincidence.  I just had to fight the urge to get through all the other mumbo-jumbo (you know, vitals and labs and this and that and the other) and beg the nice doctor to please look in my ear because I know something is wrong [it's probably a huge tumor about to explode ha ha just kidding I know it's just a little fluid but it's driving me crazy]. I don't want to talk about my food journal, I want to talk about my ear.  I don't want to talk about depression (but I do want to talk about depression, that's another part of the reason I'm here) but I really want to talk about my ear first please.

So we get to talking about my ear.  And she asks if I've been sick at all, which I knew she would because it's the same line of questioning I would've run through.  It's been baffling me, as well.  No, I've been fine.  Great, actually.  We had been out of town all weekend, celebrating our belated Valentine's celebration in Duluth, no I haven't been coughing, no I haven't had a runny nose, no I haven't --OH MY GOSH WAIT A SECOND!!  Last week, out of the blue, one day after work I suddenly came down with a 24-hour bug.  I felt just like I did after I got my COVID vaccine -- achy, low-grade fever, just all-over blecch.  I even called in to work the next day.  It never went farther than that, but it was weird.  Once I mentioned that to the doctor (damn me and my thinking out loud!) you could see the light bulb over her head flicker on.  I wanted to yell, No! IT'S NOT COVID!!  But it was too late.  The COVID screening questions began.  No, to my knowledge I haven't been around anyone with COVID.  No symptoms other than Tuesday and now this ear infection.  Yes, I had my vaccine. Yes, I know the J&J vaccine "only" gives me a 60-70% chance of not catching the 'rona.  . . . WTF.  Sure.  I'll get tested.  

Long story short, their rapid testing machine wasn't working.  I got two "invalid" results in a row.  She wrote me a work note saying I should stay home until my symptoms resolved and told me I should go get tested somewhere else.  Oh, and gave me antibiotics for my ear infection.  And quickly escorted me out the side door because she didn't want me going through the waiting room -- I'd be exposed to too many other people that way.

I went out to my car like, WTF just happened?! I don't have the 'rona.  I can't have the 'rona!  That would be awfully inconvenient.  I can't go home, I have an online patient in 30 minutes (which I found out about while I was sitting in the exam room waiting for my first inconclusive test to come back) and I'm supposed to work on-site today anyway.  My options were to drive the 10 minutes to work and hole up in my office all day, or drive the 45 minutes home and be a major inconvenience by asking someone else to cover the patient I hadn't even prepped for.  Against my better judgement (but not really because I was 98% sure I didn't have the 'rona), I went to work.  It's actually pretty easy to hole up in my office all day and not interact with other people, lol.  

So, that's why I had a COVID test this morning.  By the time I got back home, I had the email saying it was negative.  I had a date scheduled with my tattoo artist today, which I cancelled yesterday because I didn't know.  I cancelled dinner with my parents last night because I didn't know.  Actually, yesterday I was feeling pretty crappy -- after all, I do still have the ear infection.  But that's how even a 'rona scare can mess up your plans.  I've had this tattoo date made for a while. I even took PTO.  But I didn't want to chance it, and I didn't know I'd have the results back this fast, and I didn't know how I'd feel today, and I didn't know for sure that it'd be negative. Better safe than sorry.

But the good news is, I also talked to my doctor yesterday about my depression medication regimen.  Because it hasn't been doing it's job lately.  Because in January I stopped taking the one medication. Because I ran out and because it increases my blood pressure and I wanted to keep my blood pressure down and I figured, I'm on three medications, surely I can get by with just two of them!  HA HA HA HA.  Surely, as it turns out, I cannot.  This one medication is a mild stimulant and to get it refilled, I have to have lab work and/or actually make an appointment to see my doctor every six months which I don't always do, which is another reason I didn't get it refilled.  Because nurses are horrible patients.  And people with mental illnesses are horrible patients.  

It's a predictable circle.  When I go off of that medication, I start spiraling downward.  I can see it happening, but I feel like I can't do anything about it.  By the time those around me start saying something about it, I already know I'm at rock bottom but don't want to talk about it because I'm ashamed that I let it happen again.  I mean, seriously; how fricking hard is it to refill a stupid medication and take another stupid pill every fricking day!?!

But by the time I'm at that point, another stupid thing happens. I start getting even more depressed and mad that I have to take stupid pills just to be "normal". Why can't people just accept me for who I am? Why do I have to drug myself to fit in?  Why can't I be the crazy cat lady?  Why does this one stupid little white pill (actually, only half a pill) make such a profound difference in who I am????  It's just stupid. Everything is stupid.  Medication is stupid.  People are stupid.  Life is stupid.  The world is stupid. Society is stupid.  I just want to be me.  Everybody else gets to be themselves, why can't I just be me?  So what if I'm crazy?  Maybe I need shock therapy.  No one understands mental illness.  I hate mental illness.  I hate it!  I can be doing just fine and then BAM!  Up out of nowhere. It's not fair.  It's so not fair.  People who say this isn't a chronic illness can kiss my ass.  This disease is going to kill me.  It's going to drive everyone I love away from me and I'm going to die of loneliness, because no one can stand to be around me unless I'm medicated.  I'm a monster.  Why did I ever start taking these things?  

Just a sample for ya there.  You'd think with my mind running like that, I'd be, like, manic or something, but no.  Just the opposite.  My house right now is a mess.  There's two inches of dust on everything.  I've had no motivation to do anything.  There are dust bunnies behind my chair bigger than my dog.  I know that if I could get my house clean, it would help. But I can't get the gumption to get off my ass and clean the house.

So in case you were wondering, depression sucks.  

BUT!  I got my wonderful stupid little white pills again now, and should be feeling normal again soon.  And the antibiotics I'm taking for my ear infection should be starting to kick in soon as well.  And I still have the day off, even though I'm not getting tattooed, and I have the house all to myself for a few more hours.  So I think I'm going to sign off and get the house tidied up.  Time to kick the depression dragon to the curb and take back my life.  And if I need the help of [half of] a little white pill to do that, then so be it.  

See ya later, frens.

Everyone's a critic.

 

critique: verb, evaluate (a theory or practice) in a detailed and analytical way.

This has been a critical week for me. 

First of all, on my plate for the last 30 days or so has been the bane of my existence, three words that together have driven a fear straight to the core of my being, the likes of which I've never felt before and hope to never feel again: meaningful use audit.

*shudder*

Most people outside of healthcare workers don't have a clue what Meaningful Use is all about.  Heck, most people in healthcare don't have a clue what Meaningful Use is all about, either.  But I do!  More than I ever thought I would know.  

And even though I've only been immersed in the world of Meaningful Use for about 5 years, I'm pretty confident in my knowledge.  BUT, the idea of having that knowledge put under the microscope and scrutinized by the very people who are responsible for creating the program, scares the bejeebus out of me, just a little.  As is par for the course, things didn't turn out exactly the way I wanted them to, but I managed to pull it all together (OK, it wasn't a solo effort -- my manager was a huge help) and submit everything at almost the last minute.  And breathed a HUGE sigh of relief once I got that email confirming that everything had been received.

As if that wasn't bad enough, last Friday I got an email requesting a meeting for my annual review.  UGH!  I hate the annual review!  I get so anxious about it. I was a nervous wreck all weekend.  No matter how much I tell myself that it'll be fine, that I always worry about it (it's true -- every job I've ever had) and it always turns out fine (it's true -- every job I've ever had), I just get so nervous that something unexpected will come up.  Nothing unexpected ever comes up.  I can tell myself 25 times a day that nothing unexpected will come up because if there were any issues, I'd already know about them, but I will still worry that something unexpected will come up.  Something horrible. Something that will make me lose my job.  That has never happened.  And sure enough, it didn't happen this time, either.  

So...those two things are out of the way, and it should be Friday but it's only Wednesday. But tomorrow's Thursday, and on Friday after work we're going out of town for the weekend to one of my favorite places on Earth, and then next Monday I have a doctor's appointment which I'm actually looking forward to because it means there's hope on the horizon, and next Tuesday I have the day off of work because I have an appointment with my tattoo artist!!!!  I haven't seen him for a few years.  We are looooooong overdue.  ;)

On that note, I'm going to sign off and get some more crocheting done. TTYL!

A blog by any other name...

 

I've already mentioned that I like to crochet.  My aunt taught me how to crochet when I was about 8 years old or so, which means I can honestly say I've been crocheting for almost 40 years and not be that far off.  (Excuse me while I pick my own jaw up off the floor...kthx.)  

The thing is, though, honestly?  Up until recently, I've never really tried making new things.  I've probably made enough blankets (or if I'm feeling fancy, afghans) in my lifetime to warm a small village.  And if not, I've surely made enough hats and mittens to clothe a medium-sized village.  I've made enough baby booties in my lifetime to cover generations of tiny feets.  I've probably made a few scarves as well -- not the fun fancy ones, but the plain winter ones.  

It has often been suggested that I could sell a lot of what I make.  I have never really been keen to do so. Most of that is self-esteem; I don't think I'm all that good at it.  Selling something implies some sort of guarantee.  What if I make something for someone, and then a knot comes untied and it unravels?  Or it gets a hole in it?  Or it's not absolutely perfect and comes back to bite me in the ass somehow??  I never thought I could handle that kind of pressure.  Besides, everyone knows how to crochet; so many other people are selling what they make, or can make it better than I can, there's no way I can compete.  I'm not competitive, and I'm a crappy salesperson.  I've been content just to make things to either keep or give away.  I mean, I have taken a few commissions here and there: I made some dishtowel toppers by request once, and some boot toppers, those are the most recent ones that come to mind (and even those are at least 5+ years ago because they're from when I worked at the hospital).

It's been on my mind more and more lately.  Maybe because I'm getting better at crocheting more difficult things.  Maybe because I finally learned (pretty much) how to read patterns, which opens up a whole new world, haha.  Maybe because I joined a couple of awesome yarn-craft-related groups on FB where others are talking about selling stuff all the time, and I'm looking at what they're making, and I'm thinking, I can make things like that! Whatever the case, I sort of bit the bullet this week...well, I took a little tiny nibble off the side of it.  I posted a picture of my completed Lost Souls shawl on FB and made a somewhat nonchalant comment about how I might make some to try to sell because it was so fun to make (which is true, it was fun to make and I do want to make more).  Yeah, so I was half-fishing for interest.  And now, I have orders for 4 of them.  :D

I'm actually super excited about this! I'm waiting for the first shipment of yarn to come in so I can start on the first one.  Hoping I'm not completely sick of this pattern by the time I get through with these.  I've done a couple of smaller scarves just for practice while waiting, because of course the ones I make for others have to be PERFECT.  And even though I said (to myself) that I wasn't going to take commissions, that's what I'm doing.  So next time I find a fun pattern that I want to make more of and that I think might actually sell, I'm going to make them first and THEN post that they're for sale.  

On that note...I'm signing off for now.  I've got to do some research. I have no idea what people are selling these things for, or how to figure out how much to ask...

Come out, come out, wherever you are...

...at exactly 1:01pm CST on Saturday, March 27, 2021.  

I felt great the rest of the day! My arm barely hurt at all.  The trick to IM shots is to focus on relaxing that muscle...it makes such a huge difference.  It also makes it so much easier for the person giving you the injection.  Honestly.

At about 1:30am on Sunday morning, I woke up feeling dizzy and nauseated. Not enough to get up, just enough to wake me up and then for me to lay there perfectly still and wait until it passed so I could go back to sleep.  Could've been from the shot, could've been dehydration. Who knows.

Sunday morning I woke up and my arm hurt.  But I slept on that side, because that's the side I sleep on, and it didn't hurt when I was sleeping on it.  No biggie.  I'm groggy when I get out of bed anyway, so I didn't notice anything else.  Got up, took a shower, got dressed, drove to church for drive-in church.  By the time we got back home, I felt like I'd been hit by a Mack truck.  I felt feverish (meaning I was really cold but my skin was hot), my body ached all over, my eyes hurt, and I just wanted to do absolutely nothing.  I take that back; I wanted to cry, but that seemed unreasonable, so I sat in my recliner, bundled up under my favorite blanket for as long as I could stand it, then I took some Dayquil.  

You have to know something about me: I absolutely HATE that feeling that I'm coming down with the flu. And that is exactly what I felt like.  Not actually sick enough to be sick, but not feeling good enough to do anything.  I even kept telling myself that I wasn't really sick, it was just from the vaccination, but that didn't matter.  I hate body aches. I hate feeling tired.  I hate low-grade fever.  The only reason I didn't go to bed after we got home from church was, three things:  for one, I wanted to crochet.  I'm working on a couple of shawls right now, and also, crocheting makes me happy.  Two: the Bristol dirt race!! and Three: our new laptops were supposed to be delivered yesterday.  I could put up with a little discomfort knowing I could distract myself with crocheting, racing, and a new laptop.

But then the race was called off, postponed until today.  Due to rain. Grrrr!  I mean, whatever.  I could still crochet, and wait for our laptops to be delivered.  The FedEx app said they'd be delivered by the end of the day.  I could wait.  I really wanted to go upstairs and crawl into bed and sleep my discomfort away, but nope, I could stay awake and get some crocheting done.  And wait.  And check the FedEx app every half hour to see if there were any updates on when exactly they'd be here.

And then, when the "expected delivery time" on the app changed from "end of day" back to "pending", I really could have cried.  The DayQuil had worn off by then, and I just wasn't in the mood for anything. I felt just rotten and horrible and shortly thereafter went up to bed where I couldn't get comfortable or warm enough, and my hubby kept trying to pull the blankets off of me because my skin was hot but I was getting mad because I was freezing.  

Anyway. I'm feeling a lot better today.  I'm super glad I don't have to go through that again (because I got the vaccine that only requires one dose -- YAY ME!) and also glad that I can now stop feeling like I'm not a team player for being an unvaccinated nurse.  

That is all for now.

Betterday...

We had a staff meeting during lunch today so I'm taking a few minutes now to write before I get back to work.  

It's a cold, dreary day in Minnesconsinland today.  I'm working at home, under my favorite WFH blanket (it's actually a fleece quillow I made many many moons ago -- it's perfect because I use the pocket for my feet). I'm so cold today, I broke down and made a pot of coffee.  This is when I miss the boy the most; when I have to drink a whole pot of coffee by myself.  

Yes, the boy's employer decided (the way he tells it) that COVID doesn't exist anymore, so they all had to go back to WFW full-time.  No more of this WFH every other week thing.  I kinda miss having him around all day every other week.  It was nice to know someone else would be here if I wasn't.

Let's see if I can write this without crying.  :)  I always felt so incredibly guilty about leaving the dogs home alone for so long during the day once I got the job I have now.  Because even thought the hubby and I work slightly different schedules, there were still times when they'd be home alone for 8, 9, 10 hours at once.  Or more.  I can't tell you how happy I am that I got to spend the last six months of Luger's life home with him most of the time.  ...nope, didn't make it without crying.  And it's not just that I miss that dog.  Those last three days were horrible, horrible days. For him. For me. For all of us.  It was like, from a certain point everything just kept getting worse and worse and worse and when you thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, it got way worse.  Like, I wouldn't have even thought it could get that bad and I've been around dogs all my life and I'm going to change the subject now because I'm going to start ugly crying soon and no one wants that.

I'm obviously not ready to talk about it yet.

I like to crochet. I'm on a sweater and shawl kick lately.  Last night I started my first "Lost Souls" shawl -- you know, the one that has skulls all over it?  But I'm making it in prettiful, bright colors because why not?!  We'll see how it turns out.  Like I said, I just started it last night.  I was starting to get the hang of the pattern, but it still takes a while, and I get impatient sometimes.  But I do want to make things that require more skill than repeating a double crochet stitch 168 times, then turning and doing the same thing over and over and over again.  Anyhoo, I think it'll look cool when it's done, and I might even try to sell it.  I'm on a couple of crochet groups on FB and people are always talking about selling their stuff, and I always think, I could do that.  Not enough to quit my day job or anything, but enough to, you know, buy more yarn or something.  It gives me an excuse to buy pretty yarn and make pretty things and then not feel bad for not wearing it.  I just don't want to take special orders anymore.  That sucks all the fun right out of it, honestly -- making something because I "HAVE" to.  

Anyway. I should get back to work.  Darn MPIP won't report itself.

Toodles!

Boogity, boogity, boogity!

I just learned that journaling is one way to help prevent nursing burnout.  I wonder if doing burnouts is another way to help prevent burnouts?!  If so, sign me up!

...but find me some tires to wreck, too, then.  Those things don't just grow on trees, you know.  I kind of need the ones I'm using now.  

I'm not sure where I'm going with this entry. I started off wanting to write about depression, and I even found an image that I sort of liked by Googling "nurses with depression" that wasn't a nurse in blue scrubs sitting in a hallway with her head in her hands.  Because seriously, ewwwww.  What nurse in their right mind would sit in a hospital hallway?!  Those floors are NAS-TEEEE!  Yuck.  That's definitely not where an emotionally-wrought healthcare worker would sit and contemplate the challenges of their life and career.  Not unless they were hoping to pick up some conglomeration of God-only-knows what diseases that lie in wake on the floor.  (No offense to the environmental services team; I know y'all work your asses off to keep the facilites as clean as humanly possible, and we all love you for it!  But just in general, you know.  Health care facilities are germy places.  If I didn't see you just go by with the super deluxe heavy duty cleaning thingie set to Max Clean, or whatever, I'm going to assume the floor is as contaminated as the cleanest part of the bottom of my shoe. Yuck.)

But depression really does suck, though.  Yesterday I was driving to work at The Office (do you watch The Big Bang Theory? You know in that episode where Leonard is seeing Dr. Stephanie whatever her name was behind Howard's back, and the one night he tells Sheldon he's going out but doesn't want him to tell the rest of their friends where he's going, so he tells Sheldon to tell them he's going to "the office" and when Sheldon says "Leonard is going to The Office" he says it all dramatically with the hand gesture and everything? Well that's how I say it in my head, which is why I have to capitalize it now.) and I took Warner Road.  For those of you who aren't familiar with Warner Road in St. Paul, it runs parallel to the Mississippi River in downtown St. Paul. I do love being next to the water, which is why I take that particular route.  It calms me.  Being next to a river makes me feel less like I'm in the city and more like I'm, um, I don't know...not in the city.  But the problem with Warner Road is that it goes under several bridges from which people tend to like to jump.  I have an almost irrational fear of witnessing this one day, although it's not entirely irrational because I have missed several events by half an hour or so on that route in the last 5 years.  Sometimes it scares me away from driving there, but usually not because the call to be near the water is louder than the sorrow and fear.  In my mind, I refer to that part of  Warner Road as "Suicide Row".

And right when I turned on to Warner Road, the song "War on Drugs" by Barenaked Ladies started playing.  Have you ever heard it? It's super depressing.  Here, I'll find it on YouTube -- with lyrics even!

Anyway...that song, combined with the driving where I was driving at the time, combined with my anxiety about being in the city and at work in The Office that day, combined with the kind of week I was having (can't tell you -- HIPAA!) just got me thinking... it must be nice to not have depression and anxiety. To not have to wake up and deal with this shit every single day of your life.  To not have to fight with yourself to get out of bed, to get dressed, to take a shower, to go to work, to eat, to clean the house, to do things that normal people do without even thinking about it.  To hope that today is a day where your meds work really well so you can actually accomplish something because lately, they haven't. Which means YOU haven't.  How hard is it to just DO something?  Other people do it all the time.  

I just want to be normal.

When You Dream (what do you dream about?)

Disclaimer: I haven't watched the above video yet, but I've seen the band and I know the song, so hopefully I'm not making a huge mistake here.  ha, ha, ha, ha...

I had originally posted "I Dream Myself Alive" but just as I was about to start writing, it dawned on me that "When You Dream" was more appropriate.  Don't you hate it when that happens? When you think you have the perfect line and you get all set up and then all of the sudden (just kidding, I hate it when people say "all of the sudden") I mean all of a sudden, a more perfecter line comes to mind?  I shouldn't hate it, I know, because it's a more perfecter line, but still.  Now I'm off track.  And I'm not going to apologize for using "perfecter" the way I used it, even though that's not how it's supposed to be used.  Welcome to my mind: my inner proofreader is annoyed by the use of "all of the sudden" but not "perfecter".  

I've always been a vivid dreamer. At times, I've read about dream symbolism and the hidden meanings behind dreams and all that, but truth be told, I don't really buy it.  There might be a sliver of truth to the idea that dreams in which my teeth are all falling out mean I'm anxious about something in real life, but maybe the thing I'm anxious about in real life is going to the dentist and finding out I have to have my teeth pulled, eh?  (Come to think of it, I haven't had that dream in a long time... they probably stopped around the time I, um, you know -- went to the dentist and had that one tooth pulled. OH MY GOSH THE SYMBOLISM!!)  I'm also not completely convinced that dreaming about tornadoes (another common recurrence in my dreams) means my life is about to be in upheaval.  Maybe I just don't like tornadoes, okay? And don't want to be caught in one ever again. 

I don't know.  On the other hand, I know the subconscious mind is an enigma and it seems like it stores all kinds of funny things in there, and probably can manifest these things as common relatable objects any time it likes.  When I was younger, I'd overheard my mom and my aunt saying that dreaming about being chased by bears was common after getting out of an abusive relationship. I don't know why I held on to that bit of trivia when I did, because I was probably like 8 or 9 or 10 or so, but it stayed with me for a long time.  So then, fast forward some years, and when I was getting out of an abusive relationship, I'd have frequent dreams about being chased by bears.  Now, is that because I had that tidbit stored in my memory banks for so long, or is there really something to that? That's a rhetorical question.  I didn't make the connection right away, I just knew I kept having awful dreams where I was running and running and this stupid bear would almost catch me and then I'd wake up. First I'd be terrified and then I'd be mad that I couldn't stop having the stupid bear dream.  Eventually I remembered overhearing what I'd overheard (and I don't even know if I overheard it because I wasn't supposed to hear it, or if it was one of those things that I overheard in plain sight but didn't ask questions about because it was an adult conversation and I was just a kid so I didn't really care) (or maybe I didn't even hear them talking about it at all, maybe it was on TV or something, I just know that when I think of that piece of information I think of my mom and my aunt and I can totally imagine it was something they would have said in conversation for some odd reason).  And then I started telling myself that I was going to start fighting the bear instead of running from it.  I don't remember how long that took, but eventually it worked.  The last time I had the stupid bear dream, I stood up to that damn thing and told it to leave me alone and basically I scolded it back into the dark forest from where it came and I haven't seen it since.  

So there's something to dreams, that much I do believe, but mostly I just find them amusing and entertaining.  When I first had the idea for this blog entry today, it was because I've had a few dreams this week with my sister in them, and those are angry dreams. And I know why they've resurfaced again, which is because I was at my parents' house earlier this week and my mom said she texted my sister a few weeks ago but hasn't heard back from her (not that she expected to because she never answers back).  And I was thinking, I should write about that now... "that" being my sister and whatever is going on.  I'm not even sure what is going on, I thought maybe writing it out would help me figure it out from my angle.  But now I'm out of time, because I'm writing this on my lunch break. 

So, maybe next time....

Spring Has Sprung!

 

It's Meteorological Spring!  

Not that you can tell it by me.  It's 40ºF right now, and I'm still cold.  It could be -40ºF as far as I'm concerned. I'm tempted to go grab another sweatshirt, that's how cold I am right now.  I'm sitting here at my computer underneath a blanket and contemplating grabbing the space heater, because that's how cold I am right now.  Even though most of my brain is yelling at me because it's sunny at 40ºF above fricking zero and I shouldn't be cold, but, I'm cold.  

I mean, I'm glad it's "spring".  I know it's still winter, but I'm happy to be able to call it something with the word "spring" in it, even if it's just to trick myself into feeling warmer.  (Which isn't working!)  It's only March 3rd.  We've probably got at least one snow storm ahead of us before winter is actually over, but the good thing about March snow storms -- as any Midwesterner will tell you -- is that the snow doesn't last long.  And that's the best kind of snow!

But spring isn't my favorite season.  It really is not.  I like that things are warming up and new green things are starting to grow, don't get me wrong. But I don't like the mud. So much mud... the only thing I don't like about living here.  (And even then, it's not enough to make me want to move back to the city!)  Aaaaaand, now I'm having flashbacks to last year's Flood.  THAT was horrible... that made the usual spring thaw look like nothing. I'll have to keep that in mind this year.  After The Flood, there was mud caked on the grass and the trees and the fence posts and inside our vehicles and on the walls of the barns and the garage and every-effing-where and forever... there are still muddy tools out in the barn.  I think that's why I'm even more anti-spring-mud this year. I'm still traumatized by The Flood.

But anyway...

So here we are, it's almost spring and I didn't plant any tulips last fall like I always say I'm going to, but so far have not done.  I want to have a prettiful yard, I really do! And it's not like I don't the space for it, it's just that I don't know where to start.  I've never had a green thumb before.  I was actually thinking about that earlier today while I was watering the Easter lily I've had for a few years now.  I used to be a plant hospice worker, but now I actually do okay with them.  (I don't think I've improved much, I've just learned which plants can survive the longest without being watered!)  I don't know.  We'll see.  I'm getting too far ahead of myself here.  There's still snow knee-deep behind the barn, so I've got a while before I can fathom planting pretty stuff in my yard this year.

I had the fun of driving an all-electric car last week!  I had to take the Nox to the shop, which is another annoying story.  This happened while my hubby was on the other side of the country, of course, and we were in the middle of the polar vortex or whatever it was. I was driving to work one morning, and it was about 5ºF (so it was warming up after the polar vortex!) and I was contemplating getting a car wash because the Nox was super dirty and before you tell me that's too cold for a car wash don't even get started because IT IS NOT, in fact that's about the lower end of my limit but it is NOT too cold. Anyway, it was just after 6am, the odometer had just turned to 17,901 miles (don't ask why I paid attention to that but I did), I had the cruise control set to 75mph and the heat cranked up to max and was listening to a-ha on shuffle when all of a sudden the warning beep started beeping and my driver information center flashed up a message that said, "Driving Power Reduced. Service Engine Soon." and the check engine light came on and I was like.... well, I'm not going to tell you exactly which words came out of my mouth because they're not flattering.  Instinctually, I cut the cruise control off, turned off the fan, and turned down the radio so I could hear the engine. It sounded fine.  Checked the gauges -- wasn't overheating, oil pressure was good, still had power.  As I pulled off at the next exit to stop at the gas station (because I was running at about a quarter of a tank and thought maybe that had something to do with it), I got a text.  I still have it saved! It says: "Diagnostic Alert: Service the engine and transmission system in your 2020 Equinox within 7 days."  Which of course sounds much more ominous when it's like three minutes after lights and bells and whistles started going off while you're driving said Equinox to work in the morning in the dark during a snowstorm (oh yeah, I forgot to mention it was spitting snow that morning) when you're halfway to work and your husband's on the other side of the country and you can't hear anything because you have an ear infection and you're kinda just fed up with life at that moment because it's so cold your drain pipes are also frozen and you're not sure who you would call if you actually did break down because your son is home but even if he is an adult he's still your baby boy in your mind, and it occurs to you for the first time that you wouldn't call your dad to rescue you anymore either because it'd be dangerous for him and that makes you kind of sad because he's always been the one to rescue you when your vehicles have broken down but you don't have time to get all nostalgic and emotional because you have to Adult Now.  Right Now.  And oh Lord, transmission problems didn't even occur to me until then!  I didn't want to go back home because I had clinic that day, and I didn't want to put that off on someone else.  So I stopped at the gas station, topped off the tank, checked the oil (it was fine -- clean, not low).  And that was about all I knew how to do, lol.  I did text DH and let him know he'd be getting an email from the Equinox (because after it texts me Diagnostic Alerts, it emails him. Weird, I know.)

SHORT STORY LONG, I had to drop it off at the dealership last week to get looked at.  Turns out it was some sensor that got messed up when it was super cold and then warmed up again.  They took the sensor out, cleaned it up, put it back in and reset the codes and it was fine.  Oh, I mean, they ordered a new one, too, but the ETA on it is "who knows?!" and they said it was safe to drive so I picked it up the same day and have been driving it since without any further issues.  But when I made the appointment, they said they'd get me a loaner car.  I didn't argue :)  I'm a car girl, it's fun driving something different for a short time!  Of course I imagined (wishfully) that I'd get a nice new Camaro, or a Silverado, or even a Cruze or a used Impala or Malibu.  (In order of least likely to most likely there, of course!)  When I got there that morning to drop off the Nox, they had a Cruze about the era of ours parked in the garage with the key in the door handle, and I was convinced that was my loaner.  Not bad, I thought.  I've driven a Cruze before, I can handle it.  Then they had me go to the front to sign the papers, and the nice lady said something like, "OK, this car is all electric..." and I was like -- um, what now? Quickly trying to remember what Chevy has that's all electric.  What's it called -- a Volt? A Bolt? 

It was a Bolt.  Which is something you use to put cars together, not something you should be driving on the highway, if you ask me.  I got to drive it from the dealership to work and back. It was alright. Roomier inside than I thought it would be.  Under-powered. Smaller than just about every other vehicle on the road, which displeased me greatly.  (I have issues.)  It had a heated steering wheel, which would be nice to have on the Nox.  Super easy to park, but, I can parallel park a Suburban so that's a bonus but not a deal-breaker.  All in all, it was an okay car, but not my deal.  I was very glad to be back in the Nox at the end of the day.

And on that note, I have to get back to work now.  TTFN!

Adulting is hard!

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I am NOT cut out for the single life.  

You might not expect that kind of declaration from a homebody introvert with moderate-to-severe social anxiety who would rather sit home and crochet all weekend than go out and see other people.  But I've also been married to the same lucky, lucky man for more than half my life.  I can make all the jokes I want about being a strong, independent woman who don't need no man, but...eh.  

Don't get me wrong - I could be, if I had to be.  But I don't have to be. 

But, if you ever need proof that I really don't like to be pretending to be single, just send my hubby away for a week or two.  Because that's inevitably when the proverbial crap will hit the fan.  

I was thinking maybe this was just a winter occurrence, but then I remembered the one summer not that long ago (OK, maybe like 10 years ago? I don't remember for sure.) that he went to Ann Arbor for the week, for work.  That was the week we got hit with a big storm that blew the roof off the pump house and took out our power for a while (I want to say a day or two?) and left a smattering of tree limbs and branches all over the decks and the yard.  I really don't feel like looking that up on FB right now, because if I do it'll end up taking me three days to get this post published.  😂

A few years ago, he went to work down in Northfield for a few weeks in February.  During that time frame, we got hit with winter storms like every other day.  I'm not even kidding.  It wasn't that long ago, because the boy was in college at the time, and I was literally home alone with the dogs.  I remember driving home from work in a blizzard the one night, and it took like two hours, and I had a full-blown  panic attack afterward and called in sick the next day and then felt bad because I wasn't really "sick" sick, just having a mental breakdown and not wanting to admit it because I was the Responsible Adult and all.  And we got a lot of snow, and I didn't know how to use the tractor and was contemplating hiring someone to plow the driveway. It was awful! This was about the same time that there was the very real possibility that he was going to be sent to work in Las Vegas for a couple of years.  I don't even want to talk about that right now.  Obviously it didn't happen, but still.

So...like I said yesterday, my hubby is working out of town right now.  He comes home on Saturday, yay!!  The first week went well here.  Nothing major happened.  But this week has sucked rocks.  The frozen pipes and non-working drain... still not draining.  It's warmed up to the teens above zero today, and still not draining.  The faucet didn't freeze today and the drain still isn't draining.  

But! I remembered to set the garbage and recycling out on Tuesday (I'd forgotten last week).  And I've remembered to bring in the mail every day (the hubby usually does that), and of course I've been feeding and watering the outside animals, and keeping the house somewhat clean (actually, the boy unknowingly paid me a huge compliment last week when I was complaining about not feeling up to cleaning the house -- he said that the house wasn't not clean, just very slightly unorganized. I wanted to jump up and hug him!!  I've always, always struggled with keeping the house clean. It's not my strong suit. Working from home has definitely helped me stay on top of that, and it's nice that other people notice, too. But I digress!) and keeping us fed and stuff.  

Even though I have a stupid painful annoying ear infection right now.  I think it started with this pimple type thing I got on my ear from where my Bluetooth phone ear piece rubs it.  The Bluetooth phone ear piece that I use when I'm working from home, of course. I only use my phone as a phone when I'm working from home, or to call my parents.  Anyway, me being me and not being able to leave things alone, it maybe got a little more irritated than it would have if I wasn't me and would've been able to just leave it alone.  Last Saturday night, I woke up in the middle of the night with sharp pains in that ear. It kept me awake most of the night, actually.  And also pain in my jaw and neck.  Like I could barely open my mouth.  And my ear was swollen and red.  Fuuuuuuuuuu...dge.  I was pretty miserable that day.  I took some Tylenol and looked up home remedies and when to go to the doctor, and all that stuff.  I felt feverish but didn't have a fever.  

Now, you need to know something here.  People make jokes all the time about the "man cold" and all that, right?  Like how men supposedly turn into big drama queens when they have a cold, or whatever.  Well...that's me.  I can out man-cold any man on earth.  You should also know I have a pretty good pain tolerance.  I've continued to function normally through some of the worst pain on earth, the pain of fibroids and endometriosis.  Alright?  I gave birth to an almost 9-pound baby without any pain medication. And it was a precipitous delivery, which means that labor and delivery happened quickly.  Which means there wasn't a lot of transition time, not a lot of time for my body to adjust to new stages...I don't know how else to say this...not a lot of time for stretching? I called it a natural episiotomy because that sounds nicer than big ol' perineal tear.  I couldn't walk right for six months. My point being, all of that hurt less than fibroid and endo flare-ups.  Not even kidding. 

But, if I should be mildly inconvenienced by body aches or sniffles or sinus congestion, all bets are off.  Life sucks.  No one has ever felt worse than I have at that moment, and I should not be expected to do anything that the normal people do.  I may be dying, and no one cares.  Just go about your lives! Nothing to see here!!  If I survive this round, I'll see you in a few days, I GUESS!!

*ahem*

Alright.  Short story long, I started antibiotic ear drops today.  The pain is mostly gone but my ear is still all stuffed up.  And I feel extra whiney because I'm dealing with all this (the pipes, the cold, the check engine light that I'm not going to have time to write about tonight but will write about tomorrow if I still feel like it even though I really just gave you the overall gist of the story right there, the presentation I had to give to the Executive Committee at work that I was super nervous about because public speaking isn't my thing, even though I knew it'd be fine because I know everyone who was there) while I have an ear infection which makes it all a hundred times worse because it's happening to me.  Pity party of one, now being seated...

On that note, I'm going to sign off for now.  Check out this accomplishment -- starting and finishing a blog post in one sitting! I'm unstoppable.

Baby it's (beyond) cold outside...

 

Don't tell me it's too late for Christmas songs. For one thing, "Baby, It's Cold Outside" doesn't mention any holiday at all; therefore, it's not actually a Christmas song.  It's technically a winter song.  And right now, it's winter.  

Right now it is -18ºF, with a windchill of -35ºF.  I used to say that anything colder than -10ºF didn't matter because at that point it just all feels cold, but I'm going to take that back now.  It's fricking cold, and I'm tired of it.  We're going on a week of this craziness and, according to the weather reports, in for another week of it.  The first time our low is supposed to be above zero is next Saturday.  I hate to complain about the weather, because most of us native Midwesterners can appreciate the extremes and may often be found bragging about our ability to survive them (my recent favorite is the one about how it's warmer in our freezers than it is outside right now, and you know, that's not inaccurate) but days and days of the same extreme can wear a person down.  Especially when that person doesn't have the luxury of in-floor heating.  

We live in an old farmhouse.  When a lot of people hear "farmhouse" they imagine all the "farmhouse chic", rustic-type things you can pay through the nose for to make your dwelling look somewhat like the inside of a really nice barn or chicken coop.  In our case, I'm going draw your attention to the modifier, "old".  We live in an OLD farmhouse.  Our house was built in the 1880's.  Most of our foundation is actually made of field stones.  Insulation?  What's that?!?

For real.  

I'm not a high-maintenance girl. Never have been.  I've lived in old houses all my life.  My parents' house, the one they still live in, is an old house.  Our house in St. Paul was an old house.  Our house in Illinois was a newer house by our standards, but we didn't live there very long.  And this house is an old house.  I'm used to drafty windows and popcorn ceilings and uneven floors and all that. So much so, that I can't even think of other things to add to that list, because I've never lived in a new enough dwelling to know what I'm missing ;).  

Laptop battery's dying. Will be back later.

OK, I'm back. So I wrote that a few days ago.  Since then, we had an even colder morning.  I have proof! (I love the WTForecast app!)  

And since then, our kitchen sink has stopped draining.  

In an effort to keep the faucet from freezing, I decided to leave the water ever-so-slightly on at night, and to leave the cabinet doors under the sink open.  Well...it worked! The faucet didn't freeze that night!  But then I noticed there was about an inch of water in each sink. (We have a double kitchen sink.)  

Long story short, yeah.  Haven't figured out why yet.  My plumber hubby is out of town until Saturday. He's tried to help us troubleshoot over the phone, to no avail.  Luckily the other drains and faucets are working just fine, so it's not the whole septic system.  Probably just ice built up from . . . ahem . . . someone leaving the faucet on all night.  Which we've done before in the past without any issues.  

It's always something.  

Right now it's warmed up to a balmy 10ºF.  ABOVE ZERO!  

And since the hubby is out of town, I'm kind of responsible for keeping us all alive.  So I'm gonna go make some supper and then relax with some crocheting and dog-cuddling.  So, catch ya later!