In which things are still less than totally smooth, but I ain’t dead yet.
Bread got home Monday night. We promptly had a huge goddamned fight. (The kind of fight where he left and didn’t come back until the morning, and I was glad to see him go.) Go, us.
I’m getting tired of it. *sigh*
Tuesday I spent in class. For lunch, I got some vegetarian sushi from the coffee shop and ate it here in the classroom while surfing the Iowa Jobs db for work. (There’s nothing in this entire county I’m qualified for. There’s a bunch of stuff that pays $5.10 an hour, but I ain’t no kennel assistant or day laborer.)
Bread took poor Stella to the vet yesterday afternoon, and it turns out she has an hemotoma on her ear, which is a broken blood vessel from scratching or shaking. She’s got minor surgery today; they’re going to suture a tube into the ear and let it drain for ten days. She’s already been dropped off, and she gave Bread the “WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME HERE WHY CAN’T I GO IN THE TRUCK?!?!” look.
Last night we had drinks at the Hideaway with Raybo and AmmZon, which was lovely. I had more cocktails than I needed. Then we got drive-thru and went home, where it turned out I’d gotten beef tacos instead of bean tacos, and that really just pissed me off. I had a brief explosion, but got it under control. I gave Bread the tacos and he gave me his potatoes. After eating, I went upstairs and went to sleep. I even got over six hours of sleep last night! Yay, me.
Now I’m back in class, with the laptop, on the Internet, with a cup of coffee. We’re going over test questions. I’ve got Vuboq on IM. My uterus is operating at a nice dull roar, rather than a two million decibel screech. The A/C is working just fine. I just downloaded Google Earth and am looking forward to introducing Bread to it ’cause I think he’ll totally dork out on it.
I think I’m having a craving for Los Portales for lunch today. Too bad I won’t have time to get there and back on foot during the lunch break. Hmm.
In which Bread will be home for a few days.
I just spoke with Bread during the afternoon break.
BoSe needs to rush back to town for a family emergency, so the two of them are packing as I type. They should roll in between nine and ten tonight. I have to clean BoSe’s car and drop it at his house and get a ride home; or depending on Stella’s ear situation I may have to use it to do stuff, then run it into town and meet them at BoSe’s house when they get here. Bread said he’d call me from Burlington.
In other news, this class is pretty basic and boring, okay really basic and boring, but I have learned a couple of cute tricks and the people seem really nice.
In which I continue to feel utterly overwhelmed.
If you’re a regular here at the ‘box, you know I tend to keep y’all updated on the state of my uterus (because I’m nothing if not totally dedicated to delivering you riveting content). Well, right now it’s doing its thing: trying to make me wish I were dead. I’m in pain, I’m not feeling particularly sharp, and I wish I were lying down. I’m full of ibuprofen. That in and of itself is hardly pleasant, but let’s add some additional stressors, shall we?
I had two full-blown oh my god, this is it, I’m really finally dying of a fucking heart attack panic attacks Monday, in honor of my oncoming menses. Worst I’ve had in months and months and months. In addition, I’ve been having arrhythmia off and on since my PMS started. My hormones? So whacked. And in tandem with my stress level? Ugh. Just kill me now. When did I get so goddamned sensitive? Christ.
Last night, instead of going out with Gorgeous and Raybo like I wanted to, I went home just as if I were some kind of responsible adult or something. I even went to bed at a reasonable hour. Go, me.
Aaaaaaaaaand, I didn’t sleep. I just laid there. Listened to my iPod for awhile, read for awhile, got up and had a glass of water, went back to bed.
Around midnight, I noticed that Stella was still panting. The other two dogs weren’t because I had a fan running and it wasn’t particularly hot. After listening to her shift and pant and pant and shift for half an hour, I rolled off the bed onto the floor to give her some lovin’. I think she’s got a little bit of The Arthur in her old age, and I thought maybe her joints were hurting her and that a nice rub would feel good.
So I put her head on my leg and massaged her legs one by one, and then I noticed she felt pretty warm, as if she were running a slight temperature. And then I found the cyst on her ear.
Ah, crap. The thing is massive. This is exactly par for the course, the way things have been going lately.
I got up, turned on the light, and checked it out. There’s a huge blister in her ear, and the thing has at least an ounce of fluid in it. It’s under the fine skin of the inside of her floppy dog ear. I manipulated it a bit, trying to see if it was the result of some kind of cut or bite, but the skin of the entire ear appeared to be unbroken and it didn’t seem to hurt her much, if at all.
I decided to lance it, and went about the house — in the middle of the goddamned night, mind you — getting towels, rubbing alcohol, a needle, antibacterial soap, and neosporin. I fed her a third of an aspirin, put Bindu and Shiva out to get ’em out of the way, and sat down and cleaned the whole ear. Then I realized one doesn’t puncture these things with a needle, one needs a blade. A very, very sharp blade. Because what if the fluid inside the cyst is too viscous to exit through a tiny puncture? Well then, it seems to me that instead of releasing the pressure you’ve just increased the chances of infecting it even more by introducing a wound and possible germs from the skin. Ugh.
So I texted Raybo, ’cause she’s a nurse, to see if I was right about this lancing thing. I didn’t call her because it was already 12:30 and I didn’t want to wake her in case she’d already crashed. Then I finished lovin’ on Stella and put my ass back to bed. It took another hour or so to fall asleep. (I heard my phone chirp around 2:30 when she called back, bless her, but since I had to get up at 6:30 I didn’t get it. It took me awhile to get back to sleep again anyway.)
So 6:30 rolls around and I hit snooze because I’ve slept maybe 4 hours and I have cramps and I’m fuckin’ groggy, damn it. Then I hit snooze again ten minutes later, and again ten minutes later. Finally I got up at 7:00, brushed my hair, found something to wear, fed the dogs and cat, watered everybody, put in some earrings, gave Shiva his benadryl and Stella her aspirin, found some notepaper, made sure I had a pen, and drove to town in ten minutes flat. (Which means I ran 60-70 MPH most of the way. Go, me.)
Parked, walked into WGC, registered for Xactimate basic training. Found out I was actually twenty minutes early, left for coffee and to move the car so I wouldn’t have to feed the meter every two hours.
Now I’m sitting in the classroom at one of their computers — Bread has the laptop in Indy — and thank God it has Internet access so I can blog. The break’s almost over, so I suppose I should post this and go back to taking notes. After all, I do intend to teach this class eventually.
(I just overheard a WGC employee telling another student that the next basic adjusting course is tentatively scheduled for August 28th. “Tentatively?” the student said. “Well, yeah. If there’s a big hurricane, all your instructors will be out adjusting and the class will be cancelled.” They so need me here. I’d much, much rather hang out in a climate-controlled room with computers and projectors and indoor plumbing than climb about on roofs. Seriously. Roofs are not only high, they’re hot as hell.)
In which I accentuate the positive.
A few quotes I’ve read or heard lately that made me giggle:
“Of course I’m going to pay my library fines. Right after I get my divorce. It’s on the list!” -ML
On kissing: “More lips! Less tongue!” -CN
“If you don’t have a trust fund, then you’ve noticed that sometimes life can be rather shitty.” -CH
“I’d fuck Barbie.” -S
“Kill me now. I’m out of gin.” -SD
“Dorothy Parker required only three things of her men: They must be handsome, ruthless, and stupid.” -RY
In which I feel rather taciturn about good news, given the run of things lately.
The bad news is that [a] I’m not eligible for unemployment benefits until the last day of the month and [b] my benefits, when they start coming in mid-August, will be a whopping $164 per week. I suppose I can go on food stamps for a couple of weeks if I have to.
The good news is that I might — might — get hired to do software training for WGC, which is a gig that pays remarkably well. (Like, ‘that’s kinda weird’ well. Like, ‘what’s wrong with the gig that you have to pay that much?’ well.) I interviewed with SF yesterday, and this morning he talked to my guys in Indy. Bread called me to tell me the good news while BoSe was on the other line with SF, and then I called SF back right away but he hasn’t returned my calls.
From what Bread told me, I may end up going out on some day claims next week, then go through two weeks of adjuster training to get certified, and then find myself in front of a class of baby adjusters teaching them Xactimate. Apparently they have a hard time keeping instructors because they’re always running off to do CAT adjusting somewhere, and because most people don’t like standing in front of people. As a geek and a performer, teaching software sounds fantastic to me, but what do I know.
More bad news is that my period is coming, so I’ll probably end up flat on my ass in hideous pain for two or three days in the very near future. Hopefully the timing won’t fuck me for this possible teaching gig. Of course, Bread now has the laptop, so that might fuck me on this gig too.
And, if all that didn’t suck enough, I balanced my checkbook and even though I’ve been really careful about Not Spending Money — please note that I have no onions, or laundry detergent, or even coffee — I no longer have enough in the account to cover the mortgage when it comes due on the first. I guess I didn’t really think I’d be able to, not really, not with gas at three bucks a gallon and having to eat and all, but still. I’d kinda hoped.
So, to recap: I’m flat broke. Bread won’t get paid for another two weeks. I have no money coming in. From my two interviews this week, I got a “we’re not hiring,” and a guy who told someone other than myself that he might be able to hire me but I’d have to do some non-paying shit for an unspecified amount of time first before I’ll ever see a check. Also: I live alone way out in the country and am spending far too much time by myself, and my period is coming. And I feel sorry for myself. And the satellite is off, and I don’t even have any movies to watch. Yeah, I think that about covers the situation. Suffice it to say that I’ve felt sunnier.
On the flip side, though, and I’m nothing if not a blessings-counter, I do have most of a bottle of cheap vodka and some lemons, the animals have enough food for a few more days, and I’m back on the Internet. (I forked over the money to get the land line reactivated, because a girl can’t job hunt without being able to get online to check the Iowa job db and to email resumes.) So at least I can see all your awesome, wonderful comments here on the ‘box, and that makes me feel really good. I love you guys, I really do. I’ll try to get caught up on your comments and your blogs this weekend.
But first? I have to go scrounge something to eat out of my pantry. Something that doesn’t require onions. Gah. Vegetarian cooking, without onions? Can’t even make soup without onions! I’ll probably end up eating a box of macaroni and cheese. Crap.
Update: I had one of my favorite weird meals: hash browns and gravy. (And a side salad, featuring cukes AmmZon grew her very own self.) I make amazing vegetarian gravy, I really do. I’d never server hash browns and gravy as a meal to anyone else, it’s just too weird. No ‘main dish’. But hell, I’m alone, who’s to see what weird shit I eat? And now I’m having a lemondrop. Yum. Happy tummy. And I found my copy of Contact; if I can get the VCR working I’m gonna watch a movie!
In which it’s looking up. Mainly because it’s raining and NOT SO GODDAMNED HOT.
This morning I drove Snow to the airport. We had a lovely conversation about geek stuff on the drive up. He also paid me for my trouble, which was awesome of him and means I’ll eat all weekend! Yay! (Actually, I wasn’t really going to starve, but one exaggerates for effect.)
After returning his car to his lovely wife V., I went to WGC for a pseudo-interview. I’d like to work for them training people on Xactimate, but it sounds like they’d want me to take three or four weeks of training before I could do that. I’m interested, because I think doing software training would be fun, but I need a little income in the nearer future. If only I was eligible for full unemployment benefits! That would be the perfect scenario: get money for going to school! Yow!
Bread and I had fights on the phone the past two days, but today we did much better. He got the laptop safe and sound, which is a relief — the idea of it in the hands of UPS made me sad. He’s still riding the sales emotional rollercoaster, so I suppose I have to get EVEN MORE STOIC when dealing with him. *rolleyes* (I can say condescending things like this about other people because I, dear reader, am perfect. But you already knew that.)
After WGC, I went by Iowa Workforce Development but the chick I needed to see was at lunch. So I came to the rental store to visit Mr J and his DSL connection. When customers walk in I smile at them and say, “Hi! I don’t work here, so I can’t help you!” I’m sure they love it.
Rescue Kitty is still living here because the local no-kill shelter can’t seem to call J back. Rescue Kitty is a love. I’m gonna go pet her then go back to the employment office.
In which the kitten is saved, but the laptop is lost. (Another post comprised almost entirely of bitching and self-pity. Yes, I sure know how to crank out the content!)
So the kitten now lives at the rental store, until the local no-kill shelter decides to return calls so she can be transferred into their care. (Our local no-kill shelter is notoriously difficult to give animals to. They tend to argue with you when you try to give them animals, and always ask why you don’t keep the animal yourself.) The ever-gorgeous Mr J called me up after the last post and droned, “Okay, tell me where they are,” and then performed a rescue mission. Turns out there was only one, a sleek black female with dark amber eyes. Rescue: complete. Don’t ever let anyone tell you the Internet isn’t a Force For Good.
Yesterday morning Bread called me up in a grumpy mood and wanted the laptop. Now. Over-goddamned-NIGHT, thank you very much. So I spent a good portion of my day yesterday packing and shipping the laptop. I spent nearly two hours driving around looking for a UPS truck to give the package to. In the heat. I couldn’t find one, and had to wait for the 5:45 pick-up at Copperfield. All this means I no longer have a portable computer, which in turn means no more coffee-shop ‘net access, no more DVDs in bed where the A/C is, no more iTunes library, and no more email.
Well, actually, once I pay my land line bill I may be able to connect over dial-up from home, but since LISCO let me go? My free account may no longer even work.
And while I understand that the laptop was purchased specifically for selling roofs in Indianapolis, that trivial detail didn’t stop me from being royally, utterly, completely pissed the hell off that I had to give it up. It was — to be totally dramatic about the whole situation — the one fun doodad I had. And now it’s en route to Indy, where Bread will probably use it less than an hour a day. Bah.
I’m broke, I don’t have a job, there are no matches for me in the Iowa Jobsearch database, I hate my house, I hate my commute, my dogs are miserable, my PPC doesn’t work, and I don’t even have my own fucking car. (It’s parked in the barn with two flat tires and I’m driving BoSe’s Exploder. Which is much better than nothing, and I’m grateful, but still. It’d be nice to have my own fucking ride, all things considered.) I was rather inordinately fond of the laptop, for its portability and wirelessness and my Ovusoft database and MY ITUNES LIBRARY, and, you know, the ability to edit and email resumes and stuff. *bangs head on desk* I’m afraid I was totally immature about the whole thing, but I hereby excuse myself since I’m so close to the end of my goddamned rope.
Right now I’m blogging from the rental store, because J said I could. My ‘net presence will probably be even more sporadic for the next while. If you can’t live without me, you should text my cell phone. I love text messages. (If you want my new number, leave a comment and I’ll email it to you the next time I’m online.)
I was supposed to have a meeting at WGC today to see if they have a job for me, but SF had to run out of town for some emergency or another. I’ll have to see him tomorrow when I get back from the airport. (I’m driving a friend to the airport tomorrow for fifty bucks. Yeah! Fifty bucks!) Tonight I have band practice and hopefully PK’s stocked his fridge with tasty beverages ’cause I could use a few.
I watched Sin City last night. Fun vid. Dark and violent, but fun. I think it gave me bad dreams, but since I very rarely remember my dreams it hardly matters.
Bread called me this afternoon and said he was thinking about bailing on the roofing thing. He’s feeling broke and dispondant and doesn’t want to borrow any more money and there are a couple of jobs he could go do and he doesn’t know if he can wait much longer for the money to start coming and I totally understand that, but if I shipped him that laptop for nothing I might just have to explode.
In which I go off on someone, possibly the wrong person.
Hey, you.
Yeah, you.
The woman in the white late model town car. The one who appears to have dropped one or more kittens on the side of the gravel road about two miles from my house.
Here’s the deal. THOSE KITTENS ARE GOING TO DIE. The soft-hearted farmer archetype with a big barn you’ve got in your head? Doesn’t exist. Farmers are much harsher about life/death decisions when it comes to animals, and they’re not going to rescue those mangy kittens and let them drink fresh milk in an idyllic cat paradise. Most of them already have more pets than they want, and they’re sick of assholes like you leaving your unwanted baby animals in ditches by their houses.
Check it out. We’re having a heat wave. It’s nearly hundred degrees out there. Those ditches are lousy with fleas and ticks. The kittens you’ve abandoned are going to die from exposure, parasites, dehydration, and starvation. It would have been better if you’d taken them to the vet and paid to have them put down, or simply snapped their little necks.
You should have gotten your cat fixed. There’s help available from the Humane Society if you were having financial problems, but looking at your car I sincerely doubt that.
No, I’m not picking your kittens up either. I already have a cat and three dogs myself… and it’s not my fucking job. It doesn’t even make me feel guilty anymore; I’ve seen so many abandoned creatures (over the years of living out at the farm) that were all left by dumbasses like you.
I do, however, hope you feel like total shit for condemning those little mammals to such a particularly shitty style of death.
In which we invent a new cocktail.
Gorgeous and I accidentally invented a brilliant drink. Behold!
Bombay Ginger-Limetini
Juice of 1 lime
Juice of 1/2 lemon
1-1/2 shots vodka
1 shot simple syrup
1 slice fresh ginger
Stir and serve in a tall glass over ice.
In which I’m trying to become a night person because I don’t have Bread around waking my ass up at the asscrack of dawn. Ack!
I’m online, which means I’m back at the coffee shop. It’s four in the afternoon, and I did not make it to the unemployment office today but I have a meeting shortly with Seminar Crowds for a possible temp job in their IT department, so I feel only mildly guilty about not doing what I said I’d do today.
NLW and the ever-gorgeous Mr. J took me with them to Scrottumwa the other night for a dinner/movie date. We ate at Applebees and saw the new Pirates movie. One word, people: Johnny motherfucking Depp. Rowr!
Sunday I lazed around most of the day, but I did manage to get all three dogs washed. What a chore! Dog-washing makes you sore in weird places, because you end up standing hunched over in weird positions trying to wash their armpits and things. All three dogs are still totally, utterly lousy with fleas. I’ve got Shiva on children’s benadryl and a topical wound treatment and he seems to be feeling marginally better, but he’s still bald and all three dogs are still squinching themselves constantly. I’m going to try to find some diatomaceous earth and dust the hell out of them with it.
Last evening Gorgeous called and invited me to pizza at her place with her and her daughter and AmmZon. I hopped in the shower to get the dog hair and mud off, then dressed and drove to town. Daughter was grounded and had to stay in her room cleaning. Gorgeous and AmmZon and I played Scrabble, then moved to the basement and played Yahtzee!. (I love Yahtzee!, I truly do.) AmmZon left at midnight to go can pickles and relish with her aunt (they do that in her family, put up preserves in the middle of the night when it’s cooler); Gorgeous and I stayed up until a quarter to three and she caught me up on all the juicy gossip (fights, breakups, hookups) — and she had to work in the morning! I drove home. The dogs greeted me as if I’d been gone three weeks instead of six hours and then I cranked up the A/C and crashed.
Today I got up and fed the dogs and had some breakfast, but since I’d slept in I decided to hang out a bit before going to town because I didn’t want to get to the unemployment office during the lunch hour when they’d be closed. I went back upstairs to the bedroom because it’s SO GODDAMNED HOT AND STICKY AND MISERABLE OUT RIGHT NOW, OMFG and the bedroom is air conditioned…
…and fell asleep. Which is why I’m so damn late making it to town.
I spoke with Bread today. The guys have moved to another company and are now selling roofs for MR ROOF. Bread said the new company needed a combo secretary/IT person and asked if I was interested, but I said I wasn’t sure. “I can’t tell if it’s just the Fairfield vortex or a real intuition, but I feel like I should stay here and live in our house and take care of our THREE DOGS AND CAT rather than go get a ten-dollar-an-hour office job in Indianapolis.” He said I should think about it, mentioned that the guys had a line on a house to rent out there, and then we talked about our overdue bills. He said he’d make some calls and get me some cash in a day or two. I guess he’s going to ask either SF or his mom for enough to cover the car insurance and truck payment for now because he’s not expecting a check for another two weeks.
So, I feel rather lame for not making it to the unemployment office today, but I’ll be there with bells on tomorrow morning because I plan on not staying up until nearly three talking my face off. (I’m such a night person; I really need very little schedule deviation to find myself sleeping all day and staying up all night. I just lean that way. Left to my own devices I find it harder and harder to get up at seven or eight. Knowing this, I’ll have to nip it in the bud immediately and go to bed on time tonight and get up on time tomorrow. Either that or just get a damned night job already.)
I’m so far behind on my blogroll it’s absurd, but I’m never online lately. I miss you all and will get caught up eventually, and your comments her make me all warm and fuzzy. I miss my IM buddies too – you know who you are! *smooch* Soon I’ll get my shit back together and will resume my virtual life on the Internet, yea verily.
On the subject of friends, I’d like to gush again. Since I’ve been back I’ve been surrounded by awesome women who have offered me everything imaginable: companionship, friendship, meals if I need them (they all know how broke I am right now), support, help finding a job, and love. Raybo stocked my fridge with several meals, Gorgeous fed me last night and got me a meeting at her company, Nanner told me to come by and eat at her place whenever I need to. It’s enough to make a girl mist up a little. Not to dork out too totally, but it makes me feel all squishy inside and I’m abjectly grateful.
Here’s to the benefits of hard times! It helps you remember what really matters. Now, if I can avoid filing bankruptcy, that would be totally hot.
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4 random books from my Library!
