Bad Day? Maybe, Probably, Okay Yes.

Well, I just compared a specific human to a tapeworm so I’m thinking yes, I’m having a bad day. Have you ever had one of those days where anger, or irritation, crept up on you?

I didn’t know it was happening. It started with wanting some information. Before too long I came to the conclusion the info should have been forthcoming long ago. A vague grumpiness at the situation developed, then the universe produced a figurative air pump it became full-blown irritation before I had really analyzed what was bugging me.

Some attempts were made to defuse the situation but when my direct question was answered with words that equaled nothing, it got worse. Finally I realized I’d been irritated for quite some time about this junk.

The problem is I despise negativity. I can’t handle it for very long and as a result I either try to resolve issues quickly (too quickly some would say) or I push them away (mostly this one). So I quietly and unknowingly let it all build up for weeks into a just as quiet explosion.

I’m sitting here pissed off and besides some lengthy text complaining to a friend, I’m not really doing anything about it. Pretending a tapeworm doesn’t exist only helps the tapeworm though. Unfortunately I’ll probably just walk away from the situation.

This post sounds passive-aggressive in its vagueness right? I’m not trying to be, I’m simply trying to not call people out.

The point is I let something negative grow until I’m miserable and it’s affecting everything. For example, this morning I decided to work on a quick timeline for my novel. Well, it didn’t end up being anything resembling fast but it was helpful. I found some holes that need to be filled in my plot and I changed the order of a few events. I planned on doing actual writing after lunch but haven’t because I got pissy.

At this point I’m not sure how to turn the day around. I don’t want to wallow in self-pity. My plan is to make some new plot cards and take a look at the story as a whole on a story board and from there I hope I’ll write.

If you want some free advice, don’t bottle up emotions or you might also find yourself comparing people to parasites and trust me, it feels as ridiculous and petty (if a tiny bit satisfying) as it sounds.


Random Observations (A Ramble)

If you don’t like meandering ramblings then this post is not for you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

I’m sitting in a Starbucks. It’s not my normal writing spot but for some reason I felt the need to change it up. I hear people say either this place has the best coffee or the grossest brew. I don’t really care because I get hot tea, English Breakfast, which is nearly impossible to mess up. I’m here for the atmosphere and the aroma.

If you know me at all you know I despise the flavor of coffee but adore how it smells. Something about it improves my creativity.

Anyway, I ordered my tea and sat down. As I pulled out my laptop and my spiral I overheard a short conversation between two men dressed in business suits. They were talking about work when suddenly one changed the subject.

“I love my wife but she calls me at work about the kids and it drives me  crazy. I mean I’m at work, how does she not get that. She never even asks if I can talk. As soon as I say hello she’s all ‘blah blah blah blah,'”

The other man nodded then talked about an app that tracks everything for his baby. Diapers, feeding schedule, everything. So he and his wife were on the same page and she doesn’t call him at work. Though she does text.

I had several thoughts as this conversation unfolded. First was why on earth had I tuned into this? Second was that the first guy was a moron and the second guy was smart. I get it that when you’re busy with work it’s rarely good to be interrupted with a personal call, especially when it happens often.

However, why hasn’t this guy done something about it? Perhaps a conversation with his wife would take care of the issue. Ask her to text or something, get the app, don’t answer unless you are able to talk, etc. Also, I hate it when people piss and moan about their significant other. It’s disrespectful and crappy.

The other guy handled this issue in a much better way. He and his wife got an app, probably had a conversation and he never said one negative word about her. His nod to his coworker indicated he understood and that was enough.

I’m feeling pretty judgy right now but he struck a nerve. I never gripe about my husband to anyone and he never complains about me to anyone. We respect each other enough to keep out mouths shut, even when we’re angry or irritated with each other. Well, to be honest I have complained that my husband never puts himself first but I don’t think that one counts as negative. It’s okay if you think I’m a hypocrite lol.

To change the subject, let’s talk writing. I made an important connection this morning while at the gym today. I was on the elliptical and thinking about my fantasy trilogy. Yesterday I started having new ideas for the first book. They came out of nowhere during physical therapy and grew throughout the day.

I woke up today with even more ideas and I was thinking about them while working out. I made a plan for what I wanted to write today and it hit me. Exercise. It was the key to unlocking my sad case of writer’s block!

Since coming home from vacation I had only gone to the gym once until Tuesday. Once I restarted my gym habit my muse came out of hiding. She’d poked her head out a bit for a writing prompt but not much else for a month. Now ideas are flowing easily. I almost have too many!

My writing was always easier and better after working out but I never realized I had inadvertently trained my muse to almost need the exercise first. When I look back to when the block started it all makes sense. It began with me getting into vacation mode. I was still working out but as it go closer to time to leave town I slacked. I wasn’t really writing much but it was fine because I was gathering stuff and making lists and generally preparing (excuses all).

I told myself I’d get work done on the plane or when there was down time at my in-laws’ house. It never happened. Then I came back home and I don’t know what came over me. I went to physical therapy two days in a row that week and it kicked my butt. I went to the gym once after that and my tooth disaster wrecked any chance of me working out again until this week. If you’ve ever had an abscessed tooth then you understand why I stayed home and felt sorry for myself. Also, no writing happened.

So on Monday school started and I had a PT appointment after dropping my daughter off. I told them I was done. I wanted back in the gym and they previously didn’t want me doing anything other than cardio while in their care. I plateaued a long time ago and at this point I was only making them money and getting nothing out of it.

On Tuesday I worked out, and yes I was careful not to overdo it. Or so I thought. I was so sore but I felt great. I went back to PT on Wednesday for one last time and asked a lot of questions about what I could and couldn’t do in the gym. They had me do all my exercise a final time, including some alterations so I could do some of them at home. I was almost done when the random idea struck. I must have had a dramatic physical reaction because when I came out of my writer’s trance several therapists were staring at me haha.

My husband had come with me so he had to listen to me babble about the idea all the way home. I was so excited that I don’t think he minded too much. He knows how I’ve struggled and how disheartened I’ve been about it.

This morning I went to work out again. It was hard! It was amazing too. Almost the entire time I was making stuff up, just like a writer should! It was even about the project I want to work on.

There are still issues I have to work through of course. For example. I came to Starbucks to write all these ideas down but instead I eavesdropped on someone’s conversation and decided to write about it. I’ll have to find a way to push distractions away. Writing a blog post isn’t so bad but other things need to be ignored.

I am a creature of habit so once I reestablish my routine, or come up with a new one and get used to it I’ll be good. My plan is to always write after working out. If I’m able to write again after lunch then I will. My muse likes structure so I will give her structure!  I will go to the gym daily to at least get on the elliptical for a while. I’m not sure what my schedule will be for the weights and machines yet but I’ll figure it out quickly.

The best thing about working out today is at this moment I feel no pain. I might wreck that by sitting here writing but I’ll find my way.

In other news there is a nerdy convention this weekend. I’m trying to decide if we’re going. It’s also my husband’s birthday on Saturday. He’s into the same stuff I am and I know he wants to go but with my unresolved (and expensive) dental issues we don’t know if it’s feasible to go to this thing. He says we shouldn’t do it just for him. I say we should. Now it’s in my hands. I need to decide soon but I haven’t heard back from the dentist about my insurance and price.

Okay, this is random but some guy just did one of my biggest pet peeves. It ranks up there with people complaining about their spouses to their coworkers, friends and family. I live in Texas, in a biggish hub city surrounded by many farms and ranches. This means there are more trucks on the road than small cars. There are some smaller trucks but I’m talking F150 and bigger.

This guy in an overly large Ford (a 250 I think) pulled into the parking lot here, deliberately taking up several spaces and actually blocking another car. My car. He’s lucky I’m hanging out for a while! I mean come on buddy. I know the truck is big but it can fit in ONE space. Or if his driving is so sucky he could have taken up two spaces further way from the door, where people don’t normally park. He was only here for a few minutes but still, he and his truck are not so important they should have the right to do that. What a dipsh…nevermind.

20160825_101018 I’ll just leave this here.

Okay, rant over. Time to get to work. I’ll post a writing update soon. I hope to have a lot to say!



To The Pokemon Party Poopers Out There

Does what others do in their free time really matter to you? What is it about someone having fun with something you don’t care for that bothers you so much?

It’s amazing to me to see so many aggressively uninterested people on the attack. Maybe it’s me. I don’t like watching golf, nor playing it, but I don’t get on Facebook and write long posts about how awful it is that others like it and play all the time. I am not into racing but I don’t tweet negative crap about the people who are.

There are things out there I actively despise, such as really badly written books some women obsess over that get made into really bad movies. But I don’t hate the authors or write about how terrible the obsessed ladies are just because I don’t understand the appeal. So yeah, it could be I simply have no experience with this kind of nastiness, except what I’m seeing.

Someone I know recently posted a rant on Facebook. It consisted of all the things they were fed up with, including politics, hatred, etc. In the list was Pokemon Go (which inspired this post). Now this particular person had a negative experience with someone playing the game so I understand her frustration and I want to address the bad stuff about it, especially because I expect to be yelled at for all this.

Any leisure activity taken to extremes is bad. Obsession to the point of neglecting responsibilities is stupid and destructive. When I gripe about Pokemon haters I am not talking about the ones who are upset because someone took it too far.

I’m talking to the casual haters. Like the older lady at the gym who gave me the dirtiest look as she watched me catch a Pokemon in the locker room. I was standing in front of my locker, nowhere near anyone or blocking anything. I was hurting no one and affecting no one. She looked at my phone, glared and turned to her friend to piss and moan about how kids these days should find better hobbies. She talked about some girly things and they walked out in a huff.

First and foremost, I wanted to thank her for calling me a kid. I said she was older but I mean maybe 20 years older, not old. As a 40 something woman, I will never be upset at being thought of as younger.

Second, piss off lady! I can’t stand to do needle work or crotchet. I don’t want to make quilts or play whatever the hell card game she mentioned. I didn’t give her a dirty look and disparage her hobbies.

I just don’t see how playing a game, any game, for fun is any different from what others do for entertainment/hobbies. Do you come home from work every day and watch an hour or three of TV? What are you accomplishing while sitting on the couch for so long? Relaxation and fun is what you’re accomplishing, just like me when I’m playing games.

Are you watching every baseball/basketball/hockey/football game of the season? What do you get out of it? Recreation, fun, excitement, whatever, same as me and my family when we’re playing or talking about our games.

Do you play golf? You know what I’m going to ask here. Well, my son and his friends, including the new ones he’s made playing, get what you get, they have fun, competition, exercise in the form of walking and possible sunburns, just like you!

So why are people so irritated? Sometimes I think most simply want something to be pissed off about. Other times I think it’s misinformation. Such as the assumption it’s only young people who play the game.

My whole family plays. One of my writer friends posted about seeing a group of nurses who roamed around the park for part of their lunch break catching Pokemon and having a blast. I caught two at the gym, taking all of 30 seconds before I began my work out. Another writer friend played when she couldn’t write and wasn’t at work, affecting no one. I personally saw a man pull up to a Poke Stop with his family in the car. They all were clearly having fun as they played. Oh and the man old enough to be my father I saw playing seemed to enjoy himself too. I should ask him to come to the gym and meet quilting lady.

So to all the Pokemon party poopers out there, you do you’re thing, I’ll do mine. I promise not to get angry at your hobbies and you will probably continue to be negative and unhappy (and I’ll keep not understanding you). All the while I’ll have fun and bond with my children and enjoy the silly times with my husband as we keep playing Pokemon Go until we get tired of it, if we do.

The picture is of the beauty I caught at the gym, Planet Fitness, not a Pokemon gym.



Everything Update 6/27/2016

Writing: I’m about 2,500 words into the re-write of my trilogy. I’m calling it a rewrite because even though I’ve written 40,000 of the story, it was all over the place. There are salvageable pieces but mostly I’ve started over. I don’t regret it.

A majority of the parts I’m saving are in both the second and third book so ‘re-write’ isn’t as horrible as it sounds. I did do the first scene over and it is a vast improvement over the original. The second and third scenes were not touched. The original four scenes following didn’t work where they were so they’ve been put aside for a later decision.

Instead I started introducing my characters in a more interesting way. When I wrote the first half of the book during Nanowrimo a few years ago I got the main ensemble together too quickly. There was no time for me, let alone a reader, to get invested in anyone but the main viewpoint guy. So I chose to introduce them in their native lands, dealing with their own lives before gathering for their save-the-world quest.

So far, it’s working better and I’m happy. I plan to change a pivotal scene. It didn’t play out the way I thought it should and has been bugging me since I first wrote it. I can tell you now, it’s a great relief to figure out what was wrong with it.

One of the reasons I’m rewriting this scene and the others is I don’t want to get into editing mode. Once my inner editor rears its ugly head, there is no shutting it down. So I just rewrite what I want and if I’m not sure how to change it I go ahead and write the next scene as if I’d already fixed the problem one. I suppose it’s somewhere between creating and editing, but it makes my muse happy so I’ll keep doing it.

When I started I would read what I wrote the first time then figure out what I really wanted to say. Bad idea! Editor alert! I have a decent memory of the original so I work from that. If I absolutely can’t remember I might scan a scene but I’m trying to avoid the old stuff.

I’ve made so many changes that it’s not been too bad. I don’t regret writing stuff I won’t use because it helped me improve my abilities. It also taught me I’m not really a seat of my pants type of writer. I need some planning. Because of the planning, everything is going smoother than it did the first time.

It will sound like I’m being overly critical of myself but I believe when I started this story all those years ago, I wasn’t a good enough writer to write it. It was and still is, a good idea but I needed to learn so much before I could tackle it. Now I think I’m at the level I need to be and I can only learn and improve from here.

Writing every day helped me more than I can ever explain. Thanks to Nanowrimo for that, even though I failed the first time (with this story).

My goal is to write at least 1000 words a day, on the days I write. Preferably more.

Photography: I finished the photography class I was taking online. Now I have to decide whether to take the advanced class starting next month or wait until September. Things are going so well with my story I worry that giving myself something else to do will cause problems. I am enjoying photography. I’m even getting good at it, but writing is my real passion. Nothing can interfere.

So I need to decide if the class will interfere or be a good break twice a week from writing. I’m capable of handling both. We’ll see if I want to. Either way, I’ll definitely take the class, it’s a matter of when.

Reading: There is nothing to report here. I don’t have much time for reading. I get 15 minutes in twice a week after physical therapy, while they hook me up to the stim machine with a hot pack. Also here and there when my back hurts from sitting and writing too long. I’ll grab the book I’m reading and lay down for 10-20 minutes. I’ve been trying to finish the same series for months. I miss reading but the reason I don’t get to is writing so I can hardly complain.

Physical Therapy/Medical: I guess it’s going well, with the exception of my last visit. When the therapist, who is not my regular therapist but told me they will all treat me, worked on my back, well it was awful. They do this each time. Basically I lie on my stomach and they knead along my spine. It is not like massage; it’s certainly not comfortable.

The last time was different. This guy got this foam wedge that you put your face on and it lifts your shoulders and chest up, forcing your lower back to arch, a lot.

Of all the positions I could get into, it’s the one that can, and did hurt me the most. I expressed my reluctance to get in the position but he assured me it would be fine so I did it. After it was over I sat up and thought I would fall over. The pain was overwhelming but I figured once I walk around for a second I would be okay. Nope. Walking across the room to do another exercise was excruciating. The exercise itself helped but it didn’t stop the tears.

I am the type to hold in reactions to pain. I might groan or grimace but I don’t yell or cry out. I certainly don’t weep, but I couldn’t help it this time. To make matters worse, once the tears started rolling, they didn’t stop, even once the pain lessened. I was so frustrated and a little angry that all I could do was keep wiping the stupid wetness away.

Of course the therapists noticed. The guy who hurt me didn’t have the guts to come near me for a while so one of the women asked if I was okay. I said yes and she checked on me a few more times. The man who worked with me eventually asked how I was doing then told me it would get easier to get in that position. It might hurt for a while but soon enough it would be no problem.

I stared at him for a second and he walked away, clearly unsure what to do. The lady who’d been checking on me took me to the stim machine when I was finished and went on and on about how chronic pain can bring on emotional responses. This irritated me because, sure I was pissed off, but the reason I was upset was the pain. I’m sure she didn’t mean to make me feel like they were brushing off the pain but I guess I was having the emotional response she talked about so it irritated me lol. I didn’t complain, I simply said as little as possible.

My next appointment is tomorrow. I’ll be honest, I hope I don’t work with the same man. He rubbed me wrong from the beginning and now I don’t trust him. I understand all these people went to school for a long time to learn their skills and this man in particular has been a therapist for quite a while. He’s been with the place I go to at least ten years. In general I trust in their skills and abilities. I know they know what they are doing. However, if he, or anyone else pulls out that foam wedge, I will flat-out refuse.

This isn’t stubbornness. We didn’t work gradually to get me into a position I haven’t been able to do for over a year. He put me that way too soon and the arch was too much. I’m a good read on body language and I could see he damn well knew it too. His explanation was weak and guilt ridden. I will not comply and they can think I’m just being overly emotional.

If he, or any of the other therapists, want me to do exercises to get me to the point of being able to do what he tried then I will grimace and groan my way through it, gladly.

So I dread tomorrow but hopefully it goes better than I fear. This guy told me no one has ever gotten bent out of shape because patients get shifted around to all the therapists. I hope I won’t be the first. I could never have imagined a piece of foam could bring out my rebellious side.

I’ll post another update later this week.






I’ve been thinking about differences lately. I love dogs, but you might be more into cats. Another person might prefer rodents or serpents. I cannot truly understand that person but what I do know is they are a person. I probably won’t want to hang out with a snake owner as I have a very real phobia of snakes of all types and sizes but I don’t hate the guy who owns them.

Another example of how people are different are is in how we play. I’m into World of Warcraft and most things nerdy and/or geeky. I love action movies and reading fantasy. You might binge watch all procedurals and love thrillers. Others love romantic comedies and playing Scrabble. Some people collect sports memorabilia and hand money over to cable companies to get the largest sports channel package available. While others (me) only get the basics with HBO added in to watch Game of Thrones (even though I’m losing interest).

What about how we love? Some girls only date guys much taller and larger than them, while others like men closer to their size. Some men only date blonde women with large personalities while others prefer ladies with glasses and no makeup skills.

Some girls only like tall women while some guys prefer to date short men. Or you might only like people with dark hair and I might not have a true preference in features but don’t care for men who are a lot taller than me.

You wouldn’t think of calling me a bad person because I like dogs or Captain America. You don’t think poorly of me because my husband is blond when your partner is brunette. So why would you think less of my daughters for who they like, which happens to be other women?

We are all people. Why does anything else matter? If you don’t like snakes, you don’t hang out with a guy who owns them, but you don’t hate him. If you don’t want to be around someone who plays a lot of computer games then stay home, but you aren’t thinking they are horrible because they are different from you.

It’s simple. We’re all different from one another. If you want to judge someone based on their particular set of differences than you’re the one with the problem. Deeming someone worthy or not based on their sexuality, religious preference, race or other beliefs is ridiculous (and judging people is probably against your religion).

So I’m stating it here for all to see. I am an ally. You can love whoever you want, I won’t judge you. I’ll simply be happy you found love. I don’t care what religion you follow. If you find comfort in your beliefs then I’m glad for you. I don’t care where you’re from or what you look like, you’re people to me. If you are a snake person, I’m not visiting but I acknowledge your right to do whatever you want.

If you attack me because of any of the above factors then I’ll think you’re a jerk but I won’t think everyone else who believes as you do is an ass. If you have a different political opinion, we’ll just talk about cake.

You might not understand my love of Wonder Woman AND Captain Marvel. You might not get it that my entertainment involves orcs, elves, paladins and DPS. You may think it’s ridiculous that I won’t watch meaningful dramas or sit-coms. You might think I’m weird for spending most of my time making up worlds and people and dragons. If so, it’s okay. We’re simply different from each other. We don’t have to be best friends but I still respect you as a human. I truly hope you can say the same.

I grieve for the victims in Orlando, their friends and families and everyone else affected. I am astounded at the reactions, both good and bad. To the people donating blood, or giving food, or giving free flights, or holding vigils and showing respect, or even simply grieving too – I’m proud of you all and you give me faith in humanity. To the people being negative or hateful I am ashamed and embarrassed for you since you don’t have the decency to feel that way yourselves.

Photo Credit: Kelly DeBie

It’s Definitely a Tuesday

Tuesdays generally suck for me. Im sitting in the surgeon’s waiting room. I’ve been here for an hour. There are seven of us waiting. My doctor isn’t a jerk, he’s performing a surgery.

Obviously I don’t want him to rush but I wish he was finished.

For a spine surgeon he has the most uncomfortable chairs. Also, this has messed up my tight schedule. I will have to put off the gym until after the stupid court thing I have to go to. It might not sound like a big deal but working out is really the only thing, besides pills, that helps with the back pain.

I was hoping this would be my last follow up but I’m in too much hurt to think I’m done with doctors.

I will find out if I still need this particular doctor though. I like him but I hope I never see him again!

I’ll post an update after I see him.

Pardon any formatting issues as I wrote this on my phone.

I’m Having a Day

I don’t want to say it’s a bad day, but it’s not good either, hence the title of this post. Maybe I should call it a blah day.

It started with waking up in pain and hearing growling. No, it wasn’t my stomach. Our dogs sleep in kennels. One of my kids, who is not a child, forgot to close the door of one last night. When that particular dog woke up and naturally came out of the kennel the others started freaking out. My dog named Link can’t see very well in the dark so he was losing it. Luckily the unpenned dog didn’t do anything destructive or get hurt. She’s very young and it could have gone much worse.

So I started the day irritated. However, today is the birthday of the offspring responsible so I reined it in. I woke him up and told him what happened; he felt terrible. Then I told him happy birthday and left to take my youngest to school.

Next was the gym. For the second time since starting my exercise regime I didn’t want to go. I knew part of the pain I was feeling would get better if I worked out, but the other part – the surgical site – was a different story.

I started on the Arc Trainer, which is like an elliptical but it makes you move your feet backwards, sort of. It’s easier on joints and good for someone in my situation. It wasn’t fun and after only ten minutes my back told me I had to switch to the recumbent bike.

The first bike I tried kept making weird noises and I felt a popping, jerkiness occasionally. It turns out the strap on one of the pedals was about to break. I let the staff know and got on a new bike. It worked but it made the most awful sounds. I’m not sure it will live much longer. Changing again would have annoyed me so instead I annoyed everyone who had to hear all the noise.

Oh, and there is this woman who is there almost every time I am. I found out today I’m not her favorite person. We do Not know each other but when her significant other is there he always makes a point of saying hi to me (I don’t know him either).  Yesterday me and this lady were both in the 30-minute workout room and she kept looking at me and shaking her head. I had no clue why. I figured I was mistaken but she made eye contact regularly. Honestly I thought maybe I was using the machines wrong or something but now I know better.

This woman gave me so many dirty looks today that other people working out noticed. It was like she was going out of her way to make me notice. After a while I started remembering how she reacted when her husband (or maybe boyfriend) had talked to me all those times and I can only conclude she doesn’t like him talking to me. It’s weird. I don’t really respond besides a quick smile and answer whatever he says: “I’m good, how are you?” or whatever, and I keep walking. I’ve never stopped to have a conversation.

Or I could be misreading the situation entirely. Perhaps she doesn’t like the way I look. Maybe I used one of the machines in that room when she really wanted on it. Who knows? I wish more women would work to help and build each other up rather than instant hatred and nastiness.

After I left the gym I went to my regular writing place. Every table big enough to fit all my writing paraphernalia (and against the wall which is crucial) were taken. There was a  group of elderly couples who I guess didn’t want to sit together. The women pushed together most of the tables I prefer together and the men sat at a different table. Also, both had enough seating for eight people but there were only four people were at each table.

This led to more irritation but they probably had a larger group before I showed up so I stamped it down and tried to get some work done.

I found myself too distracted to do the world building I’d planned on. So I sat there, starting at the ceiling and thinking about my characters. I’m pretty sure I’ve locked in the names for the ensemble of main characters.

But another problem reared its stupid head. I always listen to music while writing away from home so I don’t get sidetracked by the people around me. Unfortunately my ear buds were hurting one of my ears. It was enough I couldn’t use them anymore. I remember thinking ‘really?’ and ‘of course.’ Feeling sorry for myself was getting old though so I put the ear buds up and pulled out some regular headphones I keep in my laptop bag for just such an occasion.  I also laughed at myself, which caused all those greedy table grabbing people to look at me like I was crazy. The laughter continued for much too long.

Eventually a better spot opened up (when the couples left en masse) and after I moved the tables back where they belong I sat down with the intention of getting to work. Did I? Nope. I’m writing this post instead.

It’s better I get it all out of my system. This isn’t a terrible day but it’s enough to bitch and moan about for a few minutes.

Actually, as I’ve been typing I keep thinking of a scene where one of my characters is annoyed with another. I think I’ll go write it and instead of going back to having ‘a day,’ I’ll turn it around into a good, productive day.


Anatomy Of An Odd/Bad Day

Today sucked, then it didn’t, but it still does. Sound odd? It definitely was/is. The day started with me waking up early after a sleeping terribly. I was in a lot of pain, the kind I knew wouldn’t be helped by the pain meds I am on. Ironically, it was a good thing because I had a doctor appointment and I had no problem showing him exactly where it hurt.

I took my daughter to school and had an hour to kill so I went to a coffee shop where I defiantly drank tea and worked on my revision. My concentration was off though so I didn’t get much accomplished. I switched gears and worked on plotting my witch story. That went well but I couldn’t concentrate on it for very long either. So I stared into space and imagined what my muse must be doing. She was hiding in a corner sucking her thumb. At that ridiculous thought my logical side took over and I was forced to acknowledge I was worried about my upcoming doctor visit.

There were only a few possible outcomes. One, I would be told I needed another injection. Two, a change of medication. Or three, talk of surgery.

As it turned out, all of those things happened. First, they changed my medication for something stronger. It’s not a narcotic pain reliever, which I can’t take, but it’s close. I’m a little nervous about it but I’m going to do what the doctor tells me to.

Second (and third), I was told I need to have a pain inducing procedure called a discogram. Basically they are going to stick needles in my back, inject a dye into the discs and put pressure on them to recreate my pain to determine exactly which discs are the problem one(s).  They they pump me full of pain relieving stuff and send me to get a CT scan.

The intention is to prepare for surgery. The chances of me not having surgery at this point are slim to none. Spinal fusion surgery. I recently watched my mother go through the same surgery and have a bit of an idea what to expect. As you can imagine my day was going downhill. I almost cried at the doctor’s office, which is weird for me. I never cry in public, ever. My husband called as I was leaving and I almost cried again but luckily was in the car.

I didn’t want to go home because I didn’t want to be upset in front of my kids so I stopped and got lunch at a grocery store that has a good deli inside it. Big mistake. One thing I’m bad at is hiding my emotions. My face betrays me regularly without me realizing it. I got a few odd looks from people passing me as I made my way to the food counter so I knew what I must look like. Since I couldn’t seem to control it I kept my head down while I waited in line.

A little old lady in front of me got my attention and smiled at me. I half smiled back and went back to analyzing my shoes.  The lady didn’t give up though.

“They have really good food here.”

I was so surprised I stared at her for a while. She had the most patient smile I’d ever seen, and she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Oh, I know. I came across town to eat here.” What? I had no clue why I told her that! The lady behind the counter, who’d overheard, said “Aw, that’s good to hear. It means a lot to us.” She had to the nerve to smile too! It was a conspiracy.

The elderly lady got her food and started walking away. She turned back and told me to have a good day. She looked like she wanted to say more but just smiled at me again and nodded at the cashier before leaving.

This was a typical kind of occurrence here in west Texas. Nothing special or unusual about it, except she made me feel better. Which I think was her intention. Her simple kindness almost made me cry but I’d rather tear up about that then weep like a child about my fear of surgery in public!

I got my food and noticed everyone I passed smiled at me so I must have lost the upset expression I brought in with me. I ate my lunch and went and bought my dogs some new toys because I knew they would be happy and it would cheer me up. Then I headed home and called my mom. She was nice enough to let me vent about the medical junk. She’s been through it all, some of it very recently, so she knew exactly what I was feeling.

Unfortunately when I got off the phone the sad/upset part hit me in the face again. I still can’t concentrate on my writing projects. Hell, you don’t even want to know how long it took me to write this post! I’ll keep trying though. Work will help me get through this but I don’t know how much I’ll be able to accomplish for the next few days with this change in medication. Some of the side effects are drowsiness, dizziness, and memory loss/issues. Fun. The doctor told me to take it at night the first time since it will definitely make me sleepy at first. If it does I won’t complain about real sleep! Maybe I’d better go do the laundry before the memory issues though.

So that’s my roller coaster day, so far. I’ll probably feel sorry for myself for a couple more hours today then on and off over the next few days. I’m the type who can’t stand negativity for very long so I’ll be fine soon.

Hopefully the day will get better fast. I have chocolate, Oreo Thins, and Smarties and I can binge watch Orphan Black so it kind of has to improve.

Sidenote: There is a YouTube channel I subscribe to that shows animal rescues called Hope For Paws. A notification popped up on my phone saying there is a new video. I clicked it but had to close it before it started. Since I almost cried at least three times today I know I better not watch it or I will cry this time.


Merry Birthday (Almost) to a Hypocrite!

My birthday is next week and I need to tell you being a December baby sucks! Well, it did when I cared about presents. Now it’s no big deal. If you were born in the last month of the year you know what I’m talking about. Birthday/Christmas combo presents, UGH!

Now to be fair, most parents who combine birthday and Christmas presents have every intention of it being a larger gift, to equal what they would have spent on the two separate occasions. It doesn’t always work out but the effort is there. Other family members though? Forget about it. To the others like me out there, how many times has your uncle or aunt, maybe grandparent bought you a combo gift that was maybe a few bucks more than your non December born siblings’ birthday gift and then they still give them a good Christmas gift for them? The numbers rarely add up to the same amount. And we all know how important it is that there is equality between siblings.

I don’t know if people mean to undercut Christmas kids or if it’s because they’ve already spent so much on gifts for so many people at once, but us December babies always feel the injustice keenly. It doesn’t help when our brothers, sisters, or cousins snicker and gloat over it either.

These days I’m lucky, I don’t care about Christmas presents too much. Don’t get me wrong, gifts are great but at this time of year I’m more interested in spending time with my family then getting stuff. If there is something I really want I will get it myself.

I am a sucker for birthday cards though. For me I think it’s about the thought behind the gift or card rather than the value that matters. I hope someday my kids feel the same. Right now if I were to spend two dollars more on one of them, the rest would have a fit. We bought the youngest a new phone for her birthday in September and I’m waiting for the reminders to start rolling in.

So, what’s the point of all this? If you know someone who has a birthday near Christmas don’t give them combo gifts, ever. Unless they grumble about it. If they complain they can suffer the consequences because that’s against Christmas baby code to actually complain to a gift giver . Therefore I’m complaining for all.

That said, Justin, if you read this, I really want to sign up for that class. What a great Birthday/Christmas gift idea. right?

Apparently I’m Unattractive, Unless I Buy This Product…

The world is changing and some people are having trouble keeping up and/or changing with it. I don’t get offended very often by sexism, stupid comments or ignorance. I just shake my head and move on. Today however I actually reacted. I wasn’t exactly pissed off, it was more like “seriously?”

There was a suggested post on my Facebook for some product that will make you grow/regrow long luxurious hair quickly.  I was a little confused why I was targeted for such an ad since I cut my hair off this year (probably asked and answered). I haven’t looked up anything to do with long hair or hair products of any type, plus I don’t experience hair loss (the ad does not really target this, it barely mentions hair loss). Normally I ignore ads on FB unless they are writing related but this one grabbed my attention.


Really? I had an irritated moment. I immediately thought “I don’t give a shit what 93% of men prefer.” Then I laughed. I clicked on the ad and it got even more ridiculous. Besides the misspellings there was only bold unsubstantiated claims and ego wrenching statements. The first line of the ‘article’ said that a woman’s hair is her livleyhood. Yes spelled that way. Then added:

According to a recent survery 93% of men agreed that a women’s hair is the most important attribute over all others.

Again, yes with the spelling. The reader is called girlfriend, which implies it’s written by a woman (for shame) and apparently researchers were stunned by the results. FFS people. It’s offensive that they are saying most men won’t find me attractive unless I use their product and grow my hair long. It’s more offensive that they think I would be swayed by this.

Do they think every woman with short hair is going to read their ad and say ‘Guess I better get to growing it out or I’m gross?’ Oh and I better tell my daughter to cut her long hair off since she doesn’t like men. That way she only has to fend off 7% male attention. The ad stated women with longer hair are more confident. GIRLFRIEND, do you know how much confidence it takes to pull off a pixie cut?

I don’t care what anyone else thinks I should look like/be/think. Ads don’t manipulate me. Not even Jif commercials work on me (choosy moms…). It’s a dumb way to market a product. It’s like saying “93% of women prefer men who don’t wear skinny jeans.” Wait, maybe that’s just me…Ignore that last part and Justin if you’re reading this, PLEASE don’t buy skinny jeans just because I was being hypocritical!

Now I’m not going to lie, I believe it’s probably true that the majority of men like long hair. I hope most women don’t care. My husband likes my hair long or short but even if he wanted it long I wouldn’t grow it out again. I prefer it short so short it stays. I can’t be short hair shamed. Even if it affected my ego I remember what it’s like to have tangles and I’m never going back! How I look shouldn’t be determined by the wishes of anyone but me.

Unfortunately since curiosity got the better of me and I clicked the ad, I will be getting more and more ads like it. They will fit right in with all the other unusual things popping up after doing research for stories. I’m writing about a war with ghosts so you can imagine the kinds of stuff I’ve looked up.

***NSA I am a writer, I only want to know how to make homemade weapons with salt ammunition and how long it takes to drown a possessed person for my book!***

If nothing else good came of this the ad got me writing when I didn’t feel like it. So thanks dumb sexist ad.

Sidenote: If you are wanting longer, thicker, fuller hair and want to try a product like this, go for it. You do you.