Another One of Those First World Problems

I feel complaining about insignificant things and labeling them “FWP” exonerates me from being a whiny spoiled person living in the best place in the world.  I’m also a jaded ex-catholic, so there is already a layer of guilt underneath everything I say and do.  

I want to post this for another reason.  With the hell I’ve been going through for the past year from medication side effects, divorce, being ostracized by my children and doing all of this in a delicate mental condition, I welcome superficial trivial problems. 

Here is one now:

Well, so far this is a very good day! I colored my hair this week from an online hair color boasting it is just like the professional color. I don’t know why I bother. The brown of my hair turned out beautifully but the white came out a light brownish reddish. Anyway……I used the last of my root concealer two days ago (forgot all about covering my roots on Tuesday and was out doing errands for four hours). Luckily I wasn’t aware so had all of the confidence of a good looking person. Back to my roots (pardon the pun) I was even debating wearing one of Allison’s hats to hit the Walgreens early before too many people were there to get a new can of concealer. In the bathroom I took one more last ditch effort, fingers crossed, to look in the bathroom closet.  There it was buried under cold medicine…..half a can!!!  Halejuha!

Dear Life:  please keep bringing on those kind of problems.  I really need a break.  xoxo

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Necessity is the mother of invention.

I was cleaning out the bathroom drawers.  I have been accused in the past of throwing out things I shouldn’t have.  I can usually counter that accusation by finding the item in question.  I am the record holder of “Supreme Finder” title in our family.  I can find things without even looking or getting up.

As I said, I was cleaning the drawers in the bathroom vanity.  I pulled everything out first, cleaned the drawer and then put everything back in.   Well, almost everything. There were the loose tooth floss toothpick things, hair ties, stray, Q –tips, old toothbrushes, etc. Those I threw away.

The real danger came when I approached John’s drawer.  I pulled the drawer open and felt my blood run cool for just a moment.  Okay, that may have been my imagination, but you get the gist of the apprehension I was feeling.

In his drawer were razors, empty toothpaste tubes, used stray toothpick floss things, an old handle for the blinds, combs and a few pens.  Pretty straight forward I thought.  A no-brainer.  Ah, no.  Nothing is ever simple with John.   It is my fault.  I should’ve realized it.  I should have tried to get into his brain while I analyzed every piece of bathroom paraphernalia in his drawer.   Hindsight is 20/20.

The next day John casually asked me if I had seen a white pole when I was cleaning out the drawers.  I didn’t remember until a few minutes of thinking about it.

“Oh, yeah, I threw it away, ” I don’t know why I felt so confident in myself at that moment. It didn’t last long.

“I had made it into a handle for my razor so I could shave my back”, he said quite calmly.

“Oh no! I thought it was just an old pole!”, I cried (it was just an old pole).

He was very calm, unlike him calm and said, “It was the handle from a blind and the end was broken in just the right way so the razor handle fit.” I thought this was a little strange to invent something when he could have bought one.

My first response to a problem, especially when caused by me is to begin to solve it.   I took a handle from the blinds in the bedroom, no dice.  I took one from Allison’s room, no.  My last one was from the kitchen and it didn’t work.

I felt terrible, probably worse than the situation warranted (as is also my way), but I kept trying to fix what I had caused.  I think I was also trying to save face.  I had always heralded the fact that whatever I was accused of throwing away I had always found it and felt quite smug about it too.

My first line of defense was Amazon.  I looked for something to replace “the rod”.  I found two things, so I screen shot them and sent them to John.  He texted back saying “I will figure something else out”. Always the martyr.

I had an idea of going to ACE Hardware with the razor and getting a piece of pvc that it would fit into.   I could also get some plastic tubing.  I meant to go there twice, but I always ran out of time.  Yesterday I went to the bank, the post office, grocery store, etc. and I thought I could fit it in.  I was in the process of trying to convince myself to go when I had an epiphany.

I had found a replacement “razor pole” and he said thank you, but no.  My part was done. I can move on with the other 15- 29 things on my to do list.

Who was I trying to kid? Of course, I didn’t move on!  I went to ACE today and told the guy what I needed and what I needed it for.  I asked for pvc pipe and plastic tubing.  I got it home and after much filing, shoving and twisting etc., I got it to work!

Pheww, that was close!  I almost wasn’t able to move on with my life.


I’ve included the blueprint to the “razor pole”  below in case anyone is in need of such a high quality gadget.

IMG_1668

High quality blueprint

So Long 2003 Subaru Outback

subaru-outback-l.l.bean-08I just got a new car. The old one got me through so many weather jams I am grateful for the 11 years it gave me.  That old green 2003 Outback will be missed. No car payments will be missed.

You know what will not be missed?

Headlights going out when the emergency brake light goes on while driving down the interstate.

Not having any dash lights and having to see the speedometer while going under a street light or following (a safe distance) behind someone else.

Front end grinding and knocking.

Juice stained carpets.

Juice stained ceilings.

Juice stained seats.

Knocked out front fog light from when Emily scraped a parked car.

Hole in back bumper when I drove over a generator.

A “My Child is an Honor Student” in middle school bumper sticker (oh, yes I was one of those parents). Since Tristan was 14, I’ve been trying to get it off.  Goo Be Gone and then finally a chisel. Tristan is now 18 and still no dice.

The poor old green thing has been replaced by a dark grey 2015 Outback. Unfortunately, the new car smell has been replaced by Chick-Fil-A, Starbucks and poodle.

Stunned

When I talk to my dad it feels like he is trying to protect me from the truth. I know he knows what it may be, but says it’s not smart to speculate, so he doesn’t tell me. He must understand how impossible it is for the human brain not to speculate when only given bits and pieces of information, not enough to form a complete picture. I know he is speculating, against his will, but he is speculating.

We were supposed to know last Tuesday and then on Thursday. All I have to rely on are quick cryptic text messages from my dad as the information trickles in from the medical professionals. In the meantime we are all looking up symptoms on WebMD and the Mayo Clinic website. Speculating.

Friday she ended up in the hospital, but was released and is now convalescing on my dad’s couch.

Monday. That is the day the labs come back.

Scared? Sad? My head is spinning, maybe I am just stunned. My mother used to be as strong as a horse physically. I never thought of her as old. My dad said he used to refer to her as an ant, carrying more than her body weight. Now she is so small and thin. Her hair is snow white and her skin is almost see through.

Our relationship has always been quite on and off. I had an old post that said how much it hurt when she stopped sending me birthday cards, but lately she has been trying so, of course, I welcomed her back with open arms.

I’m afraid she may have waited too long to come back and now she’ll be gone again.

Intuition

I am always a great preacher of following one’s intuition and gut feelings. This time though I failed, miserably!

Allison wanted to spend the night with a friend I disapproved of. Nothing major had happened with this friend, just a general feeling of unease. Allison had recently been disappointed by her best friend and was feeling lonely. John and I discussed it and decided she could go.

Around 8:30 that night Allison called and said she wanted to come home because she had fallen off a bike and was hurt. I was not prepared for the extent of the road rash she had all down her back, seat and thigh. At the emergency room she cried when they washed the wounds. She has not being able to lie on her back since last Friday. She has been in terrible pain.

The point of this story is I feel culpable. I held out not letting her go over there for the first 6 weeks of summer. My soft heart (and brain) took over.  This is a good example of never giving in when you know deep in your soul something is just not quite right.

Repentance. Penitence. Contrition.

What Next?

A little confused tonight as to how to look at my life. It’s been four years since I set out on this journey.  For the first time since then I feel really well. It’s almost what I imagined life to be. You know, being normal.

I am still a little sensitive to mood changes though. Every time I have a different feeling I wonder if it is normal or are my moods shifting again because of my “special” brain chemicals.

The depression is gone! The highs are gone! I feel regular all the time. What does that do for me? Not sure yet.

I’ve been going along at a pretty good pace. When summer break began I had a list on two sides of the paper. It has been reduced to one of those skinny magnetic grocery lists that hang on the fridge. Good for me, but what happens when I run out of things to do frantically?

I know what I’ve gained, but what I will lose?  It can’t possibly remain the same. Will I begin to lose my energy? How about the ability to write anything worth reading? Sense of humor? God, no.  Anything, but that.

 

Trauma Lite

Things that stick with me…I have to blame a lot on my delicate mental condition, not everything, but a few things. Does anyone else have situations that haunt them with humiliation years after they have happened? Every once in a while they pop up as a random memory. I dwell on them for a few minutes, realize I am doing it and cast those memories aside. I’m keeping this light, so I’m not going to reveal some of the more traumatic stories.

Here it is: “Traumatic Lite”.

  1. Got so nervous at an interview typing test that the manager questioned if I could even type at all. She was actually mad. Must’ve thought I was trying to pull one over on her. (60 wpm actually.)
  2. Burnt a hole with a cigarette in the seat of John’s new Toyota pickup. Spent all day trying to see if I could replace the upholstery until I finally had to give in and tell him. (I don’t smoke anymore.)
  3. Rear ending a car because my breaks hadn’t been fixed. I pumped as much as I could all while smoking a cigarette, drinking a diet coke and blasting U2 on the stereo. The only thing missing was texting. Thank god they didn’t have that when I was a teenager, I, or someone else, would’ve been dead by now.
  4. A huge fundraiser I had organized. I was supposed to leave my house at 4am. Overslept until 6am. So late I couldn’t take Emily to daycare and had to take her with me. She cried the entire time with the co-worker that had to take her while I ran the event. Then I got “talked to” by my boss.
  5. One boss said to me, “We miss you when you’re not here”. Interpretation: You are taking too many “mental health” days.
  6. Left my VW running in gear with the emergency brake on at my dad’s house. Strangely, it lunged forward and ran straight into my dad’s new siding.
  7. Forgetting my keys and trying to get in the basement window. I pushed on the glass and the whole window fell in. Try explaining that to your husband!

Oh, too many to name. I’m sure everyone’s list is longer than this. Things really haven’t changed. Things like “Wardrobe Malfunctions” and misunderstanding people happen on an almost daily basis.