The diptych theme of the day is “shine”.  I must say that this is Hubs’  favorite form of bling:

And don’t forget to check out Finn, Ren, Robin and Bluepaintred.

I hope you all have a happy Humpa Day!

I am a cranky, miserable bitch. There I go, stating the obvious.

I am having a perfect storm of ‘bad’.  Not my husband, kids or friends. It’s me. Capital M. Capital E. I am constantly bitching at my poor Hubs. He knows something is wrong but is afraid to ask. We are so in tune to each other that he knows that I will bite his head off if he says “What’s wrong?”  He is being ever so sweet. He helps me clean the house. He helps with Bandit. He cooks me breakfast and orders dinner. But it doesn’t make me happy.

Babygirl has been so happy lately. We (she) is getting all of her FAFSA papers filed. She hasn’t argued with me. She has cleaned her room.(mostly) She helps with the laundry.She has chosen her roommate for next year and they are like long lost friends. It will be a good pairing.  But it doesn’t make me happy.

A major part of the problem is that the doctor has cut the dosage of my antidepressant in half. (”Let’s see how you make out with less of a dosage. Maybe we can wean you off of it.”) I learned my lesson about that. I would stop taking it every spring so that I could take something for my allergies. In the summer, I am out in the sunshine more, and therefore, I am happier. But as soon as September rolls around, I am depressed, and I have to ask the doctor to put me back on them. This is the first year I have stayed on them and I am very happy with the results that I have been having. I am humoring Dr. Asshat for the next week or so. Then he will have to humor ME.

Another part of the problem is that the pain in my back has worsened. This isn’t the first time it has happened after a series of shots. But it is the first time that I am in excruciating pain that keeps me in a constant cycle of sit/stand/walk every half hour or so. My pain meds are not working completely. I called his office today and we are in the process of getting me into the hospital for my neuralytic. This is the only thing that has made me happy.

I haven’t been thrilled with movies or music. This is highly unusual for me. I had been writing and now I look at the page and it takes too much effort for me to reread and find my place again. I log onto Facebook and aside from a comment here or there, I don’t even want to hang out there. This has not gone unnoticed by my friends. I am Ms Crankypants. I have lost my funny. I am the cheerleader. The clown. The jokester. Now if anyone says anything to me, I have a very curt answer. I am cynical. Cold.

Now that I have filled this page with an explanation, it is obvious to me what my next step should be.

I don’t think I’ll wait a month for Dr Asshat. Fuck that.

I want ME back.

I hate when the bills come rolling in. Oh, yeah, we all do. We hate that they need to be paid, hate writing the checks or sending them online, whatever. They are a huge annoyance.

In our house, Hubs will say “gather up the bills and we can handle that tonight.”  This means taking each bill and totalling up the balances. When he comes home we decide which ones will get paid immediately and which ones will wait until next week. Then I write the checks and stuff the envelopes (because the internet cannot be trusted with the information needed to pay the bills. ‘Big Brother’ and all that..)

This month we - and by ‘we’ I mean ‘I’ - are dealing with the billing company used by our back doctor. When we go to his office, we have an option of paying the co-pay or being billed for it. The next time Hubs wants to be billed? I will punch his junk. Seriously.

In January, we went into the office and were told that we owed a balance. So we paid that balance and the co-pay. That’s that, right? Nope. Then we get a bill for $50.00 (The old balance) We told them we paid it. “Oh, okay. I see that. Ignore this bill”  Then, we get a new bill.  Hubs owes $40.00 and I owe $10.00. Hmmm….So I call the doctor’s office. The woman is pissed off by the incompetance of the billing company and she goes through this all the time.  Yes, we paid. If billing has a problem, tell them to call the office.

Big sigh. Finally it’s finished.

I get a call from the billing department. Seems that we owed something from 2009. When we paid in the office, they used it for the back balance. Now we owe co-pay for the January visit.  Fucking $80.00.  I should have just paid the $10 and $40. I understand the billing. She explained it over and over until I ‘got it’ .  Now I have to explain it to Hubs. I don’t see this going well.

The doctor is in the process of finding a new company because shit like this is happening to more than a few patients.  What if I pay it and it is actually less or non-existent?  What if I ask why I haven’t been billed before now and then they look closely at the bill (as they did this time) and I find out that it is substantially more?

I loathe incompetance.  This is beyond a small mistake. It is happening to other people. When Hubs and I go in for the back injections, we are among the younger patients. How many of the older people are from the era that ‘billing is always correct’ ?  How many will pay it, no questions asked? How many of you double check the dates of the services you are provided?

Eighteen years ago, on the very day that Babygirl was born, Hubs began working for a company that would employ him for roughly ten years. An average day for him began with getting up at 5am in order to get to the offices by 5:45 and out on the road by 6am. His day lasted until he got home somewhere in the ballpark of 5pm. This was as close to a normal timetable as we would ever get.

Hubs is an electrician. With this particular company, his job was mainly considered to be industrial. He maintained street lights and airport runways. He made sure that many businesses had operating air conditioners, sump pumps and generators. He made sure that bridges or parking lots were well lit.

Bad weather was a double-edged sword. I would worry about him something terrible. It wasn’t always about the work he was doing, but more often it was the drivers on the road. There were always the idiots who be driving in the snow on bald tires. There were the drunks who wouldn’t see the huge flashing signs that signaled a worker on a cherry-picker fifty feet in the air. Besides these fears, there were the more human worries. Was he warm/cool enough? He was working in the middle of the night after working an eight hour day because of an emergency. He was sick, or he was hurting. It never mattered because he loves his job and his family and he always did what he had to do….and he made some serious bank. With weather like this storm, he was one of the guys that would restore power to your home. He was the guy that made sure hospital generators were working. He made sure that even through the storm, the bridge lights blinked to signal their existence to the airplanes. He would fix the wires felled by trees or ice.

We are currently in the middle of some of the worst weather my area has ever seen. And tonight my husband is not home. He is not with the other company anymore, but he is out there in this mess of snow, wind and freezing temperature. As a side job, he is supervising both of our sons, a nephew and a friend as they handle some snow plowing, blowing and shoveling. This is what they did starting at 4am yesterday. They worked until noon and then came home for food and sleep. Tonight they left at 9pm and they won’t return until roughly 8 am.

This job will make sure that the boys have a paycheck- even though their other jobs are closed this week. This job will make sure that we have money coming in since our own business has been so slow. Luckily for us, the boys enjoy this type of work. Luckily for us, Hubs only has to supervise and not physically exert himself.

But here I sit, at 10:44pm, with the television on to keep me company. My dog is lying next to me and my laptop is…well…on my lap. Hubs doesn’t take trips. He doesn’t go out with friends and stay out until all hours. The only time that I am alone at night like this is when he works. It has been a long, long time since this has happened.  Long ago, I loved the quiet. My kids were finally in bed. My laundry was getting finished and the house was cleaned-at least for a few hours. I would sit up to read, watch television, or just to take a long bubble bath with my walkman playing in my ears. I would find something-anything- to occupy myself. I found it so damn hard to sleep without him next to me.

Now, I will watch “Nip/Tuck”. Then I will take my night time meds and include an Motrin PM. I may chat with a west coast friend on Facebook for a bit and then I will turn off the laptop and the light. I’ll put the television on ’snooze’ and finally relax enough to sleep for the night.

I wonder if this is just another sign that I am at another stage of my life. I am okay with the quiet of the house. I am okay knowing that Babygirl is upstairs sleeping in her own bed, instead of asking her to come in here to keep me company with her soft snores.

Tonight I will stretch out and even sleep diagonally if I want. I can throw my arms out wide, or kick the covers off  if I am so inclined.

And I will be happy that he can do the same thing tomorrow when he gets home.

Today, I have a roof over my head and food in my cupboards, I have a husband who loves me. I have a son who makes me proud as he grows into adulthood. I have another  son who has gone through difficulties and still plugs on, even when he is sick and tired and discouraged. , I have a daughter who is beautiful, smart, and funny. I get excited when I think of all the world has to show her.

Today, I have both of my parents, both of my brothers and my sister. I have aunts, uncles and a grandparent.  I have friends who call just to say hi, who send me a funny email, and who stop by for tea.

Today I am in no pain. I have no addictions. I can read, I can see, I can hear, and I can move. I have clothes on my back and shoes on my feet.

Today, I have heat in my house. I can look out my window and see trees and blue skies.

Today, I looked out my window and watched as a hawk hunted squirrels in my back yard. I watched in wonder as Nature unfolded before my eyes. I wasn’t disgusted or horrified. I simply watched what many will never see outside of their television sets.

Today, I am blessed.

Hubs is a good guy. He is a generous lover, a thoughtful man and a good provider. Lately, though, it’s like he can’t get anything right.

First off…there was that deal with the beef and beer. (We are still in debate about that!)

Now, there is…..’besides’.

Here you can see his laundry beside the basement door. Why didn’t he just open the door and toss them down? He’s the first to say “Don’t bend, you’ll hurt your back.” or “Let Son2 get that clothes basket. It’s too heavy.” And yet, I have to bend to pick up his clothes when they could have been tossed easily.

Next, we have yet another example of ‘beside’.  Note the spoon rest.  Now look at the coffee spots.  And do you see the spoon…..beside the spoon rest? Now how did that happen?  “I don’t know….I just did it. Okay? You want me to wipe it up? Fine! I’ll wipe it up!” THAT’S NOT THE POINT! Why so close? Why not ON?  There is no answer that will not cause my head to explode.

And now, the one that makes me the craziest….beside the trash. See that bottle? It’s not there for recycling. (It is my job to gather that stuff up. No one EVER recycles here except for me so he can’t use that as his excuse.) Also notice the new bag in the trashcan. Normally, my family plays “As long as it is perched precariously without spilling, it is technically in the trash”  Trash could be piled sky high, in which case, he will put his stuff on that counter and claim that he didn’t want it to spill out of the can. But here, there is clearly plenty of room. This happens several times a week. “Why didn’t you just put it in the can?”   “I don’t know, Chris. Is it really that big a deal? Is it worth fighting about?”

Fuckyouwhat?

YES IT IS DAMMIT!!!  This passive/aggressve shit has to stop. Someone has a bug up their ass. So far, I think it’s him but if this shit continues, he will have more than a bug….he’ll have my fucking BOOTS!

Hubs just fucked things all up for me and I AM NOT HAPPY!!!

One month ago:
Hubs: “What do you wanna do for your birthday?”
Me: “Paint the bedroom and bathroom. Don’t take me out to YOUR favorite restaurant for MY birthday. Don’t waste money we don’t have. That is all.”
H: “Wanna go to a beef and beer?”
M: “No, I hate them and I don’t want to hang with your sisters on MY birthday. I am planning on going to Donna’s or hanging with Linda”
H: “OK”

This morning:
M: “So….for the next two Saturday nights, you’ll be on your own. Whatcha gonna do?”
H: “What do you mean ‘two Saturdays’?”
M: “Next week I rescheduled the party ( I had to cancel a small party due to the weather) and the  week after that I’m going to Donna’s for Linda’s and my birthday.”

This afternoon:
H: “Here” (hands me two tickets) We’re going to a beef and beer on the thirteenth”
M: “WHAT THE FUCK??”
H: “What? I thought it would be cool to go out and do something different.”
M: “You don’t drink beer and I have plans!”

I MARRIED A FUCKING MORON!!!!

Can ya tell I’m not happy?
I am trying to unload those tickets…fast!  $25.00 a piece for something I don’t wanna do and he won’t drink beer!!!!! What was he thinking?????

Men, when your woman’s birthday comes around, do something nice or nothing at all!!!  Take us to a new restaurant….NOT YOUR FAVORITE!! If you ask her what she wants, CHOOSE THAT! Believe me, she’d rather have a bottle of bubble bath from the Dollar Store, a plastic flower, or even have you order pizza for dinner one night without her having to ask you.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In October, I ended up in the hospital suffering from stomach pains.  The diagnosis?  Diverticulitis. Small little pockets grow on the sides of the intestines and manage to catch all the little things that you might see in a groovy shit. (Raisins, nuts and oh yeah, corn) It is manageable and mainly depends on carefully watching what I eat. This new way of eating consists mainly of avoiding nuts, seeds and many raw vegetables. ( I must say that my snacks of choice are popcorn, a handful of nuts or any kind of berry-mainly blackberries. These are now considered no-nos.)

But the best was yet to come….

It was necessary to endure a colonoscopy. Ah, yes. The supreme violation of my delicate, virginal asshole.This was not something that I was excited about so I put it off. Past Halloween. Past Thanksgiving. I was feeling great so I decided to ignore it altogether. But alas, the holidays are chock full of hidden dangers. Walnuts, almonds and peanuts are everywhere in brittles, cookies, and chocolate covered delicacies. I indulged in them all. A week before Christmas I had to see the doctor who told me that ‘we’ would schedule the test for the 23rd. Not the 23rd of January, but of December…..two days before Christmas.

Fine. What the fuck ever. Let’s do this.

Anyone who has had one, can tell you that it is not the procedure itself that is the -pardon the pun- pain in the ass. It is all the ‘prep work’ that sucks. It is the little, bitty pills that cause your stomach to cramp and your bowels to clench in pain.  It is the clear fluid in the little green bottle-magnesium citrate to be exact- that causes your intestines to turn themselves inside out.

The doctor told me to drink one bottle of hellwater at 7am. This ended up being a whole fiasco on it’s own. That shit was horrid!!!  On my countertop, I lined up the hellwater, a tall glass of Gatorade, and then a glass of water. I downed as much as I could without throwing it all right back up. Quickly, I pass on to the Gatorade, which only served to give me a funky taste and feel in my mouth. Appalled, I rushed to the water to rinse my mouth.  You know when you are drunk, and you know that you are going to throw up? That hideous rush of saliva into your mouth? The rapid succession of breaths that come out like Lamaze? Yes, my friends. That is what happened. I had to hold it together, because guess what? If you don’t do this procedure ‘just so’ the hospital may end up giving you an enema. 

Uhhh, yeah. Not for me.

Within half an hour, every bit of food that had EVER crossed my lips in my entire life seemed to be shooting out of my ass in a deluge. I don’t remember anything after I sat on the toilet. The white-hot cramps seemed to lift the top of my head off and stars crossed my vision. I stayed there long enough to read two full chapters of a book I was reading. No lie! (Heh! I almost said ‘no shit’)

Later on in the day, I took the diuritic pills and then repeated the  horror of the hellwater at dinner time. Believe me when I tell you that I lost 15 pounds that day. Ask Hubs. I made him look at the scale because I thought I was delirious!!

The next day, I went to the hospital and I was in and out in no time. (Yes, I said “in and out”)  They put me to sleep and I woke up when it was done. I couldn’t believe that all that prep was needed for something so fast!

The bad news was that I had a couple of polyps. The good news was that they removed them. The better news was that there is no cancer. But worst of all?

I get to do this all again in one year. Don’t worry. I won’t forget about it or ignore it.

Hubs made sure to ask the doctor’s office to send a reminder in November. 

Ilovemyhusband.Ilovemyhusband.Ilovemyhusband……

and then

I make no excuses. I’ve said it before and ranted before….

I hate grocery shopping.

Hubs and I went out for breakfast this morning, and just like always, we planned our day. Neverending paperwork, and new tax period office shifting for him. Repotting a few plants and laundry for me.

“But first,” said Hubs, “We need to stop and pick up sugar or we’ll never be able to drink our coffee.”

Good thinking! I also needed dish washing detergent and a birthday card so we stopped at the supermarket on the way home.

We laughed as we chose a birthday card for Shenanigans. Our favorite soup was on sale in the “10 for $10″ aisle so we grabbed them. (A savings of roughly .75 a can!)  We grabbed our bag of sugar and as we left that aisle we found ourselves surrounded by shopping carts and lots of people looking at……MEAT.

The sale is “Fav 4 for $19.99″. Normally, when they have this sale, Hubs and I take advantage of the savings. However, we usually shop later in the evening or even later in the week. There is often ground meat and sometimes chicken. Always hotdogs and sometimes ready made stir-fry. There is never a selection like today. We are never there at 11 am on a Sunday. This will never happen again.

We bought boneless chicken breasts, sweet Italian sausage, and ground meat. We bought a 20 pack of beef franks and lemon garlic turkey tenderloins. Not included in the sale, but still a great buy all the same- London broil 2-pack for $8 (gorgeous and thick-we bought two packages)  and a pork package for $15 (12 boneless pork center cuts and a nice sized pork roast). I grabbed my cell phone and told Son1 to get his ass out of bed and take Shenanigans to the store and buy her some meat for her birthday!!

I bitch all the time about leftovers being thrown away and it took me 30 years of marriage to get this right. I got home and separated every package of meat. I individually wrapped every single chicken breast and pork chop. This means that I can take out three if I need three, or six if I need six. No need to cook a whole package and throw some away. I turned one pack of ground meat into meatballs and froze those. Another was turned into six mini meatloafs. And yet another was separated into 1 pound pieces just right for ‘Hamburger Helper’.

All in all, we spent about $70. My freezer is filled to the brim. I have dinner until…..whenever I run out.

Things are tough over here. Business hasn’t picked up much. Even though $70 sounds like alot, it really isn’t when you think of how we tend to shop. I may run into the store for ‘just chicken’ or ‘just bread’ and I end up walking out of there with all kinds of sale items that I really could have done without. All of that meat means I can relax about what to have for dinner. The individual packaging means things will thaw easier. Now that I have spent that money, I  have meat to pair with all the fucking mac and cheese, au gratin potatoes, frozen vegetables, and french fries that I have bought during all those other “sale” days.

You have no idea the relief I feel about not having to shop, or plan, or list……

*Ahhhh!* Now….what to have for dinner?

Well, yes it’s only Tuesday. I wish the week would just fucking zip by while I go to sleep.

Sunday was spent taking it easy. We just got to hang out and watch movies. (Which, as you know, is one of our favorite things!)  In between the movies, I would look over at the Christmas tree, just dreading the thought of all the crap that goes along with dismantling the tree. I never just stop at the tree. All of the stuff that goes on the tree gets stored  underneath everything else, so it follows that I must take the other stuff down too. The thought was exhausting. As we finished off one movie, the phone rang. Hubs’ cousin passed away due to complications of pneumonia. ‘A’ fought valiantly through the holidays but in the end was no match.

Our week was not looking good..

Monday came and with it, the visit to the doctor. We each woke up feeling relatively normal. Hubs checked out a small job and I managed to do laundry, and clean the ‘piles’  in the yard. The afternoon trip to the doctor changed all of that. During the examination, he ran his knuckle along my spine.  NOT COOL!  I was almost in tears!  He pushed on Hubs’  back and set off his back as well. Now we sat there-in horrible pain- and the doctor informs us that the insurance company wants to cut a “6 step” procedure into a “4 step” procedure. (Not just our insurance…ALL of them) He explained to us the logic that insurance companies are using. Then he explained the way our “6 step” dealy works. Now, I am not a doctor and neither is Hubs (although it is one of our favorite games.) Even as ‘medical illiterates’ we could understand how dangerous a proposition this could be.  Anyway…without too many details, we may join our doctor in a class action lawsuit against the insurance company. We will be David to the insurance company’s Goliath. I am not going to hold my breath.

Today I took down the tree. It was a long, tiring undertaking and I worked alone. While not exactly in pain, I’m just tired and achy. Son2 called to say he was in agony with a toothache. He has no dental insurance and work is getting slow for him again. He can’t catch a break. This means that Hubs and I will most likely end up helping him to pay the dentist. And Babygirl’s orthodontist bill is due next week…and Bandit needs shots….and our shots will begin….and yadda yadda fucking yadda….

Thursday will bring grief all it’s own when we travel out of state to his cousin’s funeral. Fifty-two is  just too goddamned young to die from pneumonia. That is only two years older than Hubs and that is a scary thought. I’m tired of grieving. It is too much of a weight on my soul, my heart, my…..

Hey! Maybe that’s what making my back hurt! All that motherfucking weight I carry on my heart…..

And the week marches on…..