I'm having a pretty odd day today. The morning started off swiftly and pleasantly enough. I made it to work on time, again. I surprise myself by how quickly I get to work now. Of course, it's all highway traffic from point A to point B.
It was after I had been working a while that the weirdness began. About two hours into my workday, a regular client came in. Normally, this is nothing to be wary of, but this particular client has a tendency to stalk the female employees at the office, and guess who his new favorite person is!
Thankfully, the rest of the personnel in the office are growing quite fond of me and took and interest in my well-being in this matter. Before he could weasel his way into my personal life, they threw up the walls and told this particular gentleman that he is not allowed to bother me. I feel so warm and fuzzy. It's really nice that my co-workers look out for me. My supervisor also assigned me to tasks that would keep me out of contact distance with him. He wasn't able to talk to me, so I'm hoping that it may have nipped it in the bud. Of course, one of the guys here told stalker dude that I'm married, so now I have to go out to the jewelry store tonight and find me something that will pass as a wedding band. Still, it could be much worse. I am getting a nice ring and avoiding a bad stalker this way. I like to think of it as an opportunity.
Well, I have three more hours until my day ends. I really have nothing to do but twiddle my fingers. I've finished taping up the emergency exit strategies. I've made sure all the fliers are well stocked. I've got all the packets made up and labels printed. I'm basically a free woman for a few hours, except for the fact that I have to stay here. I just wish this dang computer had solitaire on it. That's pretty mean of the administrators to block all the games. This is going to be a really long three hours.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
They Make A Pill For That (Poem)
THEY MAKE A PILL FOR THAT
You left without a reason.
You was lyin’; you was cheatin’,
but I was the fool for believin’
and it made me ill.
Couldn’t get up out of bed.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’m dancin’ ‘round instead.
Couldn’t get you off my mind.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’ve left you far behind.
It seems a waste to feel the blues
when the sun’s still shining.
It seems a waste to shed these tears,
so I’m done with crying.
I prob’ly should feel sad.
I prob’ly should be mad,
but I can’t seem to feel that bad.
You infected me just like the flu.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’m getting over you.
Couldn’t get past what you done.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’m having so much fun.
It seems a waste to feel the blues
when the sun’s still shining.
It seems a waste to shed these tears,
so I’m done with crying.
I prob’ly should feel sad.
I prob’ly should be mad,
but I can’t seem to feel that bad.
I shouldn’t be so fine.
I prob’ly should be dying,
but I can’t seem to find the time.
You left without a reason.
You was lyin’; you was cheatin’,
but doctors still make house calls.
There’s a cure for you after all.
You left without a reason.
You was lyin’; you was cheatin’,
but I was the fool for believin’
and it made me ill.
Couldn’t get up out of bed.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’m dancin’ ‘round instead.
Couldn’t get you off my mind.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’ve left you far behind.
It seems a waste to feel the blues
when the sun’s still shining.
It seems a waste to shed these tears,
so I’m done with crying.
I prob’ly should feel sad.
I prob’ly should be mad,
but I can’t seem to feel that bad.
You infected me just like the flu.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’m getting over you.
Couldn’t get past what you done.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’m having so much fun.
It seems a waste to feel the blues
when the sun’s still shining.
It seems a waste to shed these tears,
so I’m done with crying.
I prob’ly should feel sad.
I prob’ly should be mad,
but I can’t seem to feel that bad.
I shouldn’t be so fine.
I prob’ly should be dying,
but I can’t seem to find the time.
You left without a reason.
You was lyin’; you was cheatin’,
but doctors still make house calls.
There’s a cure for you after all.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Perfect Angel (Poem)
Perfect Angel
You admired me from afar,
and built a picture on the things you saw.
You never cared to learn my darker side.
It was not something that I tried to hide.
It was so hard for me to let you down,
but what you wanted weighed me to the ground.
But those burdens weren’t the only things.
I was trying to fly with broken wings.
You’ve only seen me, so it seems,
as a perfect angel in your dreams.
But when reality
caught up with me,
you turned a deaf ear to my pleas.
I’d given you all of my love
but I guess it just wasn’t enough.
Because after all,
I was bound to fall
from this pedestal so high above.
And so I feel that I am not to blame.
It should be you who feels that awful shame.
You only saw what you wanted to see.
I could not live up to your fantasy.
You’ve only seen me, so it seems,
as a perfect angel in your dreams.
But when reality
caught up with me,
you turned a deaf ear to my pleas.
You’ve seen the sunlight catch my hair,
but not the shadows everywhere.
And now I’m all alone,
with no love of my own,
when you said you would always care.
GO MIZZOU!!!
The pieces are starting to come together now. My home is almost completely finished. I have some trim work and some touch-up stuff to do yet, but I'm ready to move my furniture in. It came right down to the wire too. My sister will be here on Thursday to stay in Missouri for a month. Thank goodness I'll be out of there by then. I don't think I could take a month of living with her.
Tomorrow, I get back on track with all my errands. I've been a little, well, lazy to be honest. However, tomorrow is another day. I've got calls to make and things to pack and I'll finally be getting something done instead of traveling in circles. It feels really nice. I just wish I could be certain that I would get the results from my biopsy tomorrow. They told me to call in Tuesday if I hadn't heard from them by then. I know it's only another day's wait, but no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to push the matter to the back of my brain.
And on an odd note, GO MIZZOU! Get on wit'cha bad self! Who's the number 1 ranked college football team? That's right, we are! I stayed up last night to watch their game with Kansas. For that matter, so did one of my boys. Of course, Kertis is still too young to understand the finer points of the game, but he knew to cheer for the team wearing "bwack and yeddow". Hey, he's only three years old. I consider it a major accomplishment that he sat still that long. He watched it with me up until the last 12 seconds of the game and then he went down for the count. Poor buddy. He was so tired. One second he was clapping, the next he gone. Of course, I fall asleep fast too.
Anyway, it's all pretty random tonight. Just wanted to say that the abode was dwellable finally and the kids are still wonderful, the news is still out and I'm still single. No, Sexy hasn't called, but I'm thinking this Wednesday or next he'll be ringing my phone. I'm just not sure I'm going to answer. Basically, life is getting back to normal. About time too. I was begining to think it never would.
Tomorrow, I get back on track with all my errands. I've been a little, well, lazy to be honest. However, tomorrow is another day. I've got calls to make and things to pack and I'll finally be getting something done instead of traveling in circles. It feels really nice. I just wish I could be certain that I would get the results from my biopsy tomorrow. They told me to call in Tuesday if I hadn't heard from them by then. I know it's only another day's wait, but no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to push the matter to the back of my brain.
And on an odd note, GO MIZZOU! Get on wit'cha bad self! Who's the number 1 ranked college football team? That's right, we are! I stayed up last night to watch their game with Kansas. For that matter, so did one of my boys. Of course, Kertis is still too young to understand the finer points of the game, but he knew to cheer for the team wearing "bwack and yeddow". Hey, he's only three years old. I consider it a major accomplishment that he sat still that long. He watched it with me up until the last 12 seconds of the game and then he went down for the count. Poor buddy. He was so tired. One second he was clapping, the next he gone. Of course, I fall asleep fast too.
Anyway, it's all pretty random tonight. Just wanted to say that the abode was dwellable finally and the kids are still wonderful, the news is still out and I'm still single. No, Sexy hasn't called, but I'm thinking this Wednesday or next he'll be ringing my phone. I'm just not sure I'm going to answer. Basically, life is getting back to normal. About time too. I was begining to think it never would.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Biopsy
I had my biopsy earlier this week and I'm waiting (impatiently) for the results. I have to say, first of all, that the biopsy experience SUCKED!!!!! Still, the appointment itself went well. I learned a few things, like why they still wanted to do it with a negative HPV test. Seems that they're looking at the cells from my uterus and not my cervix, which means that if I have cancer I'll lose my uterus. Funny thing is that I'm not worried about it. I'm more relaxed knowing that I might have cancer than not knowing what I could have.
Actually, they're looking for pre-cancerous cells. I suppose that's like testing for HIV as opposed to AIDS. The results are supposed to take 2 to 3 days to get, but with Thanksgiving and all, they told me to expect them no later than Tuesday of next week. I'm so excited to be getting this over with. And maybe it's cocky of me not to be concerned that the results are positive, but I just don't think that cancer is something I have to worry about at this point in my life. Knock on wood.
Anyway, I have a few tips for others going through the same thing. My first tip is to have your mom or a good female friend with you for moral support. You may want to cry after and it's nice to have someone who will cry with you. Second, don't go during your ovulation period. It tends to hurt more and cause more cramping (feels like a pinch my ass!). It's probably best if you go the week after your period, since I was informed that it's typical for the tube to fill with blood, resulting in another attempt. Lucky for me, I excaped that hazard. Third, bring a pad and some advil. I know I'm creeping the boys out by this, but tough. This is important info. Last, but not least, make sure you have someone who can drive for you. I wanted to vomit after and I really wasn't up to driving. I didn't upchuck, but I wanted to.
So, that was my experience. I told them that if they lost the tissue sample I would go postal. I'm going to need serious drugs the next time, if there is one. If they call me in the next couple of days and say I tested positive for pre-cancerous cells, it's no big worry at this point. Their first option is to put me on hormones (like I'm not hormonal enough, lol). So, it's nothing drastic. All's well that ends quickly. I'd say all's well that ends well, but some of it wasn't so hot. I'll just be content for that phone call letting me know that everything's okay and I can move on.
Actually, they're looking for pre-cancerous cells. I suppose that's like testing for HIV as opposed to AIDS. The results are supposed to take 2 to 3 days to get, but with Thanksgiving and all, they told me to expect them no later than Tuesday of next week. I'm so excited to be getting this over with. And maybe it's cocky of me not to be concerned that the results are positive, but I just don't think that cancer is something I have to worry about at this point in my life. Knock on wood.
Anyway, I have a few tips for others going through the same thing. My first tip is to have your mom or a good female friend with you for moral support. You may want to cry after and it's nice to have someone who will cry with you. Second, don't go during your ovulation period. It tends to hurt more and cause more cramping (feels like a pinch my ass!). It's probably best if you go the week after your period, since I was informed that it's typical for the tube to fill with blood, resulting in another attempt. Lucky for me, I excaped that hazard. Third, bring a pad and some advil. I know I'm creeping the boys out by this, but tough. This is important info. Last, but not least, make sure you have someone who can drive for you. I wanted to vomit after and I really wasn't up to driving. I didn't upchuck, but I wanted to.
So, that was my experience. I told them that if they lost the tissue sample I would go postal. I'm going to need serious drugs the next time, if there is one. If they call me in the next couple of days and say I tested positive for pre-cancerous cells, it's no big worry at this point. Their first option is to put me on hormones (like I'm not hormonal enough, lol). So, it's nothing drastic. All's well that ends quickly. I'd say all's well that ends well, but some of it wasn't so hot. I'll just be content for that phone call letting me know that everything's okay and I can move on.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Soooooo Booooored!
I'm at my "JOB" today, and now that I'm done re-arranging the file cabinets and throwing away the trash that has piled up in them, I'm basically spending my time twiddling my fingers.
Now, I know that there are several people out there who would love a chance to sit there at their jobs and do nothing. I, myself, would normally be thrilled with this opportunity to relax. However, I could be doing something more constructive with my time and I have so much to get done, but instead, I am forced to sit on my butt so that I might support my kids. Does that make sense to you? Me neither.
I'm beginning to think that I'm going for the wrong degrees here. I always thought I was too lazy to work in a factory, but now I'm thinking that I'm not lazy enough to work in an office. My skin is too sensitive to do fast-food. I'm too pretty to work phone collections. What's the point of having a pretty face if no one gets to see it? I'm sort of at a loss as to what I should do. I'm mediocre as a parent. I apparently suck as a girlfriend, so a housewife is out of the question. Hmmm, what to do, what to do.
See, this is why I wish it paid something to be a poet. I'm good at that. It's just enough work to keep me happy. And if you don't believe that writing poetry for publication is work, just try to throw a novel or two together. It does require a lot of thought and even some physical labor. Anyway, it doesn't pay to be a poet. Not really. You could always spread the word about your work to your friends and family, but end the end, you only get so much royalties off of the people you know. I mean, once they buy a book, they're done. They don't need any more. Not unless their bookshelf catches on fire or something. And few people keep the books they buy. So, you have to take into consideration that most of the people who will read your book have received that book from a friend or relative. Of course, poetry isn't like mysteries or romance novels either. Those are more likely to be retained by purchaser.
Okay, well, I've killed a few minutes anyway. I know this is totally random and off the wall from my usual ranting, but I'm trying to keep from pulling my hair out and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to vent. Yeah, I know, I've been doing a lot of that lately. I'll snap out of my funk soon. Hopefully, I'll have the new home up and livable soon and I'll have a few more kinks ironed out by then. Maybe after the holiday season, things will settle down (I hope, I hope, I hope).
Please, Santa, I've been a good girl this year. I would like an ounce of peace, a pound of sanity, and about 160 pounds and six feet of hunk on my doorstep. I am, after all, a single girl now. I think I'm about due for a good man who will treat me right. Get back to me for other specifications.
Now, I know that there are several people out there who would love a chance to sit there at their jobs and do nothing. I, myself, would normally be thrilled with this opportunity to relax. However, I could be doing something more constructive with my time and I have so much to get done, but instead, I am forced to sit on my butt so that I might support my kids. Does that make sense to you? Me neither.
I'm beginning to think that I'm going for the wrong degrees here. I always thought I was too lazy to work in a factory, but now I'm thinking that I'm not lazy enough to work in an office. My skin is too sensitive to do fast-food. I'm too pretty to work phone collections. What's the point of having a pretty face if no one gets to see it? I'm sort of at a loss as to what I should do. I'm mediocre as a parent. I apparently suck as a girlfriend, so a housewife is out of the question. Hmmm, what to do, what to do.
See, this is why I wish it paid something to be a poet. I'm good at that. It's just enough work to keep me happy. And if you don't believe that writing poetry for publication is work, just try to throw a novel or two together. It does require a lot of thought and even some physical labor. Anyway, it doesn't pay to be a poet. Not really. You could always spread the word about your work to your friends and family, but end the end, you only get so much royalties off of the people you know. I mean, once they buy a book, they're done. They don't need any more. Not unless their bookshelf catches on fire or something. And few people keep the books they buy. So, you have to take into consideration that most of the people who will read your book have received that book from a friend or relative. Of course, poetry isn't like mysteries or romance novels either. Those are more likely to be retained by purchaser.
Okay, well, I've killed a few minutes anyway. I know this is totally random and off the wall from my usual ranting, but I'm trying to keep from pulling my hair out and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to vent. Yeah, I know, I've been doing a lot of that lately. I'll snap out of my funk soon. Hopefully, I'll have the new home up and livable soon and I'll have a few more kinks ironed out by then. Maybe after the holiday season, things will settle down (I hope, I hope, I hope).
Please, Santa, I've been a good girl this year. I would like an ounce of peace, a pound of sanity, and about 160 pounds and six feet of hunk on my doorstep. I am, after all, a single girl now. I think I'm about due for a good man who will treat me right. Get back to me for other specifications.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Nothing
About the time I start to understand things, the foundation of these things change. I sometimes wonder what it is that I'm doing wrong that this world is so chaotic for me. I know people who only see this world in black and white. I've only seen shades of grey. I've always felt that my way was the right way, but I've envied those others so much. It's so simple for them. There is only right and wrong, love and hate, day and night. There is no between. It is such a simple way to live.
Tonight is such a hard night for me. I'm so torn. I want something, but in order to make someone I love happy, I have to let it go. Only, I'll be so devestated to lose it. How do you solve a problem like that?
I guess I should explain, but for once I don't want to. I'm not even sure why I started writing tonight. I guess it's because that there seems so much left unsaid. I'm losing something so dear to me, and it's gone in the blink of an eye, no warning. A big piece of your life is gone in a nanosecond, and you don't get the opportunity to bring it back and make it come out different.
Different. If I could make things different. I'm not sure what I'd change, really. I don't have any regrets. I loved him. I treated him the way I wanted him to treat me. There's nothing I could change to make things end differently.
I just want to know, did he ever love me at all, or did I lie to myself this whole time? Did he cling to a kind touch because he was down? Did I give him too much, make it too easy for him? I just want to understand. That's all. Why is that so hard?
Tonight is such a hard night for me. I'm so torn. I want something, but in order to make someone I love happy, I have to let it go. Only, I'll be so devestated to lose it. How do you solve a problem like that?
I guess I should explain, but for once I don't want to. I'm not even sure why I started writing tonight. I guess it's because that there seems so much left unsaid. I'm losing something so dear to me, and it's gone in the blink of an eye, no warning. A big piece of your life is gone in a nanosecond, and you don't get the opportunity to bring it back and make it come out different.
Different. If I could make things different. I'm not sure what I'd change, really. I don't have any regrets. I loved him. I treated him the way I wanted him to treat me. There's nothing I could change to make things end differently.
I just want to know, did he ever love me at all, or did I lie to myself this whole time? Did he cling to a kind touch because he was down? Did I give him too much, make it too easy for him? I just want to understand. That's all. Why is that so hard?
Sunday, November 11, 2007
The Fortunate One (Poem)
The Fortunate One
I've never lived up to my potential.
I've never been all I could be.
So I can't understand
why I've been so blessed
to have you, here, next to me.
How did I get so lucky, babe?
There's those that say it's a long time
comin' to me.
Don't know if I agree.
How did I get so lucky, babe?
I don't feel like I deserve those gifts
from up above;
to be wrapped up in your love.
So how did I get so lucky?
I haven't always chose the right path.
I haven't done all I could do.
So it just blows my mind
that when you look at me,
you're askin' God the same thing too.
How did I get so lucky, babe?
There's those that swear it's a long time
comin' to me.
Can't say that I agree.
How did I get so lucky, babe?
I wish I knew just what I did
to be so blessed.
I haven't given all my best.
So how did I get so lucky?
I know that when this day is done
I am the fortunate one.
I've been gifted with your love,
and I'm so lucky.
Counting My Blessings
I'm in a pretty humble mood tonight. It happens from time to time when I think about where I am in life and where I could be. I'm not one of those people who spend my time thinking about the "what if's". Not in the sense of wanting things to change anyway.
See, I'm one of those fortunate people who feel they are, well, fortunate. I'm not rich. I'm not famous. I don't have a Nobel prize or a Grammy. I'm just your average American girl. Another statistic, one might say. The thing is, I love it. So, when I think about what could have been, I think about how lucky I am to be where I'm at, chaos and all.
I can't say that I'm totally content with my lot in life. I just don't think that there's anyone to blame but myself. I've made some mistakes. However, I'm pretty happy with my mistakes too. All of them have helped me grow into the person I see in the mirror each morning. I'm okay with that. There's things I'd like to change, but most of them are minor. Let's face it, I'm the total package the way that I am. I'm pretty. Not in the supermodel, fashionista, ice princess kinda way. My charm is more natural, and I'm grateful for that. Think of all the time I'd lose on the pointless endeavor of remaining perfect. Because in the end, it's a losing battle. I'm smart. I'm not a genius, but I can add, spell (most of the time), figure out how to assemble toddler toys by the directions in the box, and I can usually find a way to figure out solutions to all my problems within reason. So much better than being totally booksmart with no common sense, or being streetsmart with no understanding of figures or words. I'm a lot of things that most people don't give any consideration to being.
I'm truly blessed, this I know without a doubt. I have three beautiful, smart (crazy smart), gifted children. I have a romance that most women would die for. It's not perfect, but that's what makes it so amazing. Sexy is so real. I'd have to write a novel to explain that, but those who truly love their mates know what I'm talking about. I feel like such a fraud sometimes. I feel like I'm living a life that someone better than me deserves, but here is this real guy, a guy who struggles and succeeds, a guy who loves with such great passion, a guy who's capable of changing the world, and he loves me, flaws and all. I have the best family and friends in the world. They all have such deep capability to love and give of themselves. They see me to the very depths of my soul and they support the person I am. I am blessed. So blessed. I can't even begin to describe how blessed I am. And I don't know why God feels that I am so deserving of such blessing, but I am so humbled by it. There are so many people out there that could do more with the gifts that I have been given.
If there is one thing I could change about my life, it would be that. I would do more. I would give more. I'd be more patient, more tolerant, more kind. And I guess that doesn't mean I couldn't start now. Why waste time with regrets when you can just change the way things are?
It's times like these, when I'm thinking about all that I am, and all I could be, that I feel a sadness. It seems so strange that I would get a moment of such deep understanding, but lose such insight when enduring the trials of life. I get so caught up in the moment that I often forget my good intentions. That would be a thing I'd change. My ability to remember the really important things.
I guess that's why I feel like such a fraud. I have this ability to understand the greater truths of life. I don't question why I'm here. I know why I have the challenges I have. I know why I have life. I just don't do what I'm supposed to do with it. I make excuses instead. I didn't give change to the bell ringers at Christmas because I didn't have time to stop and dig through my purse. I didn't take the time I should have with my loved ones because I had other responsibilities to tend to. I've wasted so much time. And time is a fragile thing. It's so easily lost, lost forever. We think that because it lives on through our minds as memories that it's not really gone, but it is.
I suppose it's a shame, but it took my upcoming biopsy to make me think of this. I guess that I know that everything will be okay, but I feel like it would be so egotistical of me to believe that I'm untouchable. You see, I've said that God wouldn't take me from this Earth until my kids are grown. I'm such a better parent than my ex. God wouldn't take me from them and leave them to their father, who couldn't possibly understand things enough to teach them how to understand in turn. But I can't help but wonder, am I really any better? Would they really learn so much from me, the one who takes her blessings for granted? You see, I'm a firm believer that parents are there only as guides for young minds to learn from. The truth is, they are not really gifts to me. I don't own them. Never have. I belong to them, actually. Yes, I helped give them life, but now their life is theirs, not mine. I'm just here to teach them all that I know, to show them how to love, to teach them about faith, to give them my understanding so that they can build on it and become better people that I ever dreamed of being.
You see, I really am blessed. To believe that I am qualified enough to do such an important job would be vain of me. I have such amazing potential in the palm of my hands to mold. I have been gifted with this incredible task, but I know that I alone am not worthy. So, God made sure that I had enough struggle to strengthen me for it. God made sure that I had truly amazing people around me to help support me with this job.
I'm not trying to be preachy. Most people who know me couldn't even begin to understand the depths of my faith. No, this is not just an attempt to sing praise, though I don't doubt that I should be doing that more as well. I'm not ever sure what I'm trying to do. Perhaps this is my way of thanking everyone for being a part of my life. I probably don't deserve your time, your concern, your love (even love in the smallest form), but you give it just the same. Every moment a person gives of their fragile, fleeting time is a moment of love. You may not even have me on your Christmas card list, but you care enough to take a moment to read this. And yeah, that just blows my mind.
Perhaps this is just a way to sort this out in my own mind. I don't feel as if I am worthy of all that I have been given. Even the hard times are a gift. I may bitch and moan about them, quite frequently actually, but I've taken something valuable out of each trial I've faced. In becoming a single parent, I have learned to appreciate all the blessings I have in my family and friends. I haven't learned to act on them the way I need to yet, but I'm still working on it. In the struggles I've faced in fixing up my home, I've learned to value all the things it takes to make a home and all the things my parents have done over the years to provide a home for me and my siblings. In having extra responsibility placed on my shoulders to care for myself and my children, I have learned to cherish the fruits of my labor and not take for granted that these things are owed to me as a member of the human race. Even in the "involuntary volunteer work" that I'm required to do to keep the assistance I've applied for due to the lack of support from my ex, I have found small treasures. I have found people who make an attempt to support me during my trials for no more reason than they want to help me succeed. They owe me nothing, they get nothing but my gratitude for their help. And still, they give. I have met people who are facing bigger trials than I with less means to overcome them. It gives me humility. They have less, and yet, many of them work so much harder than I. I've met people that I would have turned from before being required to tend to them. I've discovered how flawed I truly am and how much work I need to do on myself to be worthy of the gifts I have been given. Yes, perhaps this is a way to sort this out in my head. Perhaps by writing this all out, I have seen how much I have grown over the last couple of years and how to grow further so that I can live up to my potential. Maybe I am discovering why I am so blessed by exploring what I do have.
Hmmm, this reminds me, Thanksgiving is almost here. I didn't even give this much thought before. I learned the reason for the season, but I guess I didn't truly apply it to my life. And boy, do I ever have a lot to be thankful for. This also gives me an idea about a new tradition to start with my kids. I think that I shall pick a day in November to sit down with my kids and start a list of all the things to appreciate about our lives and why we're appreciative of them. Then, when we sit down for that enormous Thanksgiving dinner that my wonderful family creates, we can go over that list. Maybe then, we might fully realize the bounty we have before us. And perhaps, while we fill our bellies with good food, our ears with laughter, and our hearts with love, we can also fill our minds with understanding and help each other learn how to show those people that we are grateful to how much they mean to us.
See, I may not be worthy of the blessings I have, but I'll be content with myself as long as I keep acknowledging I have them and trying to be worthy of them. In the end, I know that is what I'm meant to do. It is my purpose in this world. And to start, I just want to say to anyone who has read this far, thank you.
See, I'm one of those fortunate people who feel they are, well, fortunate. I'm not rich. I'm not famous. I don't have a Nobel prize or a Grammy. I'm just your average American girl. Another statistic, one might say. The thing is, I love it. So, when I think about what could have been, I think about how lucky I am to be where I'm at, chaos and all.
I can't say that I'm totally content with my lot in life. I just don't think that there's anyone to blame but myself. I've made some mistakes. However, I'm pretty happy with my mistakes too. All of them have helped me grow into the person I see in the mirror each morning. I'm okay with that. There's things I'd like to change, but most of them are minor. Let's face it, I'm the total package the way that I am. I'm pretty. Not in the supermodel, fashionista, ice princess kinda way. My charm is more natural, and I'm grateful for that. Think of all the time I'd lose on the pointless endeavor of remaining perfect. Because in the end, it's a losing battle. I'm smart. I'm not a genius, but I can add, spell (most of the time), figure out how to assemble toddler toys by the directions in the box, and I can usually find a way to figure out solutions to all my problems within reason. So much better than being totally booksmart with no common sense, or being streetsmart with no understanding of figures or words. I'm a lot of things that most people don't give any consideration to being.
I'm truly blessed, this I know without a doubt. I have three beautiful, smart (crazy smart), gifted children. I have a romance that most women would die for. It's not perfect, but that's what makes it so amazing. Sexy is so real. I'd have to write a novel to explain that, but those who truly love their mates know what I'm talking about. I feel like such a fraud sometimes. I feel like I'm living a life that someone better than me deserves, but here is this real guy, a guy who struggles and succeeds, a guy who loves with such great passion, a guy who's capable of changing the world, and he loves me, flaws and all. I have the best family and friends in the world. They all have such deep capability to love and give of themselves. They see me to the very depths of my soul and they support the person I am. I am blessed. So blessed. I can't even begin to describe how blessed I am. And I don't know why God feels that I am so deserving of such blessing, but I am so humbled by it. There are so many people out there that could do more with the gifts that I have been given.
If there is one thing I could change about my life, it would be that. I would do more. I would give more. I'd be more patient, more tolerant, more kind. And I guess that doesn't mean I couldn't start now. Why waste time with regrets when you can just change the way things are?
It's times like these, when I'm thinking about all that I am, and all I could be, that I feel a sadness. It seems so strange that I would get a moment of such deep understanding, but lose such insight when enduring the trials of life. I get so caught up in the moment that I often forget my good intentions. That would be a thing I'd change. My ability to remember the really important things.
I guess that's why I feel like such a fraud. I have this ability to understand the greater truths of life. I don't question why I'm here. I know why I have the challenges I have. I know why I have life. I just don't do what I'm supposed to do with it. I make excuses instead. I didn't give change to the bell ringers at Christmas because I didn't have time to stop and dig through my purse. I didn't take the time I should have with my loved ones because I had other responsibilities to tend to. I've wasted so much time. And time is a fragile thing. It's so easily lost, lost forever. We think that because it lives on through our minds as memories that it's not really gone, but it is.
I suppose it's a shame, but it took my upcoming biopsy to make me think of this. I guess that I know that everything will be okay, but I feel like it would be so egotistical of me to believe that I'm untouchable. You see, I've said that God wouldn't take me from this Earth until my kids are grown. I'm such a better parent than my ex. God wouldn't take me from them and leave them to their father, who couldn't possibly understand things enough to teach them how to understand in turn. But I can't help but wonder, am I really any better? Would they really learn so much from me, the one who takes her blessings for granted? You see, I'm a firm believer that parents are there only as guides for young minds to learn from. The truth is, they are not really gifts to me. I don't own them. Never have. I belong to them, actually. Yes, I helped give them life, but now their life is theirs, not mine. I'm just here to teach them all that I know, to show them how to love, to teach them about faith, to give them my understanding so that they can build on it and become better people that I ever dreamed of being.
You see, I really am blessed. To believe that I am qualified enough to do such an important job would be vain of me. I have such amazing potential in the palm of my hands to mold. I have been gifted with this incredible task, but I know that I alone am not worthy. So, God made sure that I had enough struggle to strengthen me for it. God made sure that I had truly amazing people around me to help support me with this job.
I'm not trying to be preachy. Most people who know me couldn't even begin to understand the depths of my faith. No, this is not just an attempt to sing praise, though I don't doubt that I should be doing that more as well. I'm not ever sure what I'm trying to do. Perhaps this is my way of thanking everyone for being a part of my life. I probably don't deserve your time, your concern, your love (even love in the smallest form), but you give it just the same. Every moment a person gives of their fragile, fleeting time is a moment of love. You may not even have me on your Christmas card list, but you care enough to take a moment to read this. And yeah, that just blows my mind.
Perhaps this is just a way to sort this out in my own mind. I don't feel as if I am worthy of all that I have been given. Even the hard times are a gift. I may bitch and moan about them, quite frequently actually, but I've taken something valuable out of each trial I've faced. In becoming a single parent, I have learned to appreciate all the blessings I have in my family and friends. I haven't learned to act on them the way I need to yet, but I'm still working on it. In the struggles I've faced in fixing up my home, I've learned to value all the things it takes to make a home and all the things my parents have done over the years to provide a home for me and my siblings. In having extra responsibility placed on my shoulders to care for myself and my children, I have learned to cherish the fruits of my labor and not take for granted that these things are owed to me as a member of the human race. Even in the "involuntary volunteer work" that I'm required to do to keep the assistance I've applied for due to the lack of support from my ex, I have found small treasures. I have found people who make an attempt to support me during my trials for no more reason than they want to help me succeed. They owe me nothing, they get nothing but my gratitude for their help. And still, they give. I have met people who are facing bigger trials than I with less means to overcome them. It gives me humility. They have less, and yet, many of them work so much harder than I. I've met people that I would have turned from before being required to tend to them. I've discovered how flawed I truly am and how much work I need to do on myself to be worthy of the gifts I have been given. Yes, perhaps this is a way to sort this out in my head. Perhaps by writing this all out, I have seen how much I have grown over the last couple of years and how to grow further so that I can live up to my potential. Maybe I am discovering why I am so blessed by exploring what I do have.
Hmmm, this reminds me, Thanksgiving is almost here. I didn't even give this much thought before. I learned the reason for the season, but I guess I didn't truly apply it to my life. And boy, do I ever have a lot to be thankful for. This also gives me an idea about a new tradition to start with my kids. I think that I shall pick a day in November to sit down with my kids and start a list of all the things to appreciate about our lives and why we're appreciative of them. Then, when we sit down for that enormous Thanksgiving dinner that my wonderful family creates, we can go over that list. Maybe then, we might fully realize the bounty we have before us. And perhaps, while we fill our bellies with good food, our ears with laughter, and our hearts with love, we can also fill our minds with understanding and help each other learn how to show those people that we are grateful to how much they mean to us.
See, I may not be worthy of the blessings I have, but I'll be content with myself as long as I keep acknowledging I have them and trying to be worthy of them. In the end, I know that is what I'm meant to do. It is my purpose in this world. And to start, I just want to say to anyone who has read this far, thank you.
Monday, November 5, 2007
The Pain of Darkness
I've been battling the inner demon of worry for the past month or so. I went to the doctor a couple of months ago for my yearly girlie exam. Even after three kids, this is an uncomfortable experience. You'd think that after having nearly every doctor in my home town and a couple of neighboring cities up my parts that I wouldn't get so shy about it, but I still like to keep my privates... well, private.
Anyway, after a month of waiting, I finally get a call back on the results. Abnormal. This in itself is not a concern. I didn't even begin to worry at this point. There are many reasons for an abnormal result and most of them are nothing to worry about. Still, there is protocol to follow. It means another visit, another more detailed screening with yet another doctor. This time, I got a girl, which somehow makes it easier to endure. She did a screening for the HPV virus which causes cervical cancer among other things. She told me that if this came back negative, no more work would need to be done, but if it was positive, I would need a biopsy.
I waited again for the results. Negative. However, my doctor felt that I still needed to come in for the biopsy. So, here in another week, I have to go in and have part of me that I've carried with me for 27 years cut out of me. I'm not very happy about this. I'm also very worried.
Okay, I admit, I'm a compulsive worrier. I tend to let my imagination blow things out of proportion. So I researched. Bad idea. I actually felt worse after that. None of it sounds good at all. And all of this worry keeps coming back to the fact that the doctor still wants me to do a biopsy with a negative HPV after first telling me that it wouldn't be necessary. The reason the doctor gave for it is because of the particular cells that are abnormal. Why doesn't that sound good?
I haven't told many people. I've been waiting to find out the results before I do that. I have sought reassurance from a select few. My mom for one. I know that even while she tells me it's going to be okay, she's gonna worry it to death with me. It's nice to know that someone else is gonna help me bear my burden. I also told Sexy. I don't know why I told him, exactly. The only reason I can think of is that he shares a certain affection with me for the afflicted part. I figured he'd also be personally upset at the thought of it being even slightly butchered.
I guess his response was not what I was searching for from him. He did the typically thing, telling me not to worry about it just yet. I know he's concerned about my well-being. I know he's not trying to push my feelings to the side like they don't matter. I guess I just don't want to hear that it's okay for the time-being. It's not okay. There's something wrong. Even if the biopsy comes out okay, the doctor feels there is something wrong enough there to warrant a closer, more painful look. I'm not okay with that. I don't want sharp objects in that general area. I don't want to wait yet another month for the results. I don't want people to say the glass is half full. I want the damn glass totally full.
Okay. Time to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Better.
I suppose what it is that I wanted was for Sexy to worry with me too. I realize that he probably is. It's hard to dwell on the fact that a loved one is potentially seriously ill in a way that you can't do anything about. When they have a cold, you can bring them soup. When they have a cut, you can bandage it. But what do you do if it's the big C? I mean, that's what I'm really looking at here. No, it's much easier to push it to the back of the mind until a time when I has to be faced. At least, it is for most people. I just have a hard time pushing things to the back of my mind. I don't start feeling better until I know exactly what it is that I'm dealing with. I'd feel better knowing that I had cancer for sure than not knowing what I had. I suppose that sounds funny, but once you know what you're dealing with, you can start dealing with it. It's the damn waiting and wondering that drives me up the wall.
I guess, in the end, there's nothing to do but wait. I just wish I didn't have to. And I wish, I don't know, that maybe there was some way to make the waiting less painful. I just don't know how to do that. I don't know if having Sexy pulling his hair out with me would make it better. Even if he did, I know that I'd just spend me time telling him that it was okay and that there was nothing to worry about at this point in time. Funny how that works, isn't it?
Well, I do have to say that writing it out does make me feel better. And somehow, knowing that others are reading this and are feeling concern for me helps as well. And maybe, a few of you will keep me in mind when you say your prayers the next time. I would be most appreciative. Maybe it will help make this next week go faster, and then I can get the hardest part of the ordeal over with. After that, I get to find out what's going on and with knowledge comes understanding, and with understanding comes the tools to battle fear.
Anyway, after a month of waiting, I finally get a call back on the results. Abnormal. This in itself is not a concern. I didn't even begin to worry at this point. There are many reasons for an abnormal result and most of them are nothing to worry about. Still, there is protocol to follow. It means another visit, another more detailed screening with yet another doctor. This time, I got a girl, which somehow makes it easier to endure. She did a screening for the HPV virus which causes cervical cancer among other things. She told me that if this came back negative, no more work would need to be done, but if it was positive, I would need a biopsy.
I waited again for the results. Negative. However, my doctor felt that I still needed to come in for the biopsy. So, here in another week, I have to go in and have part of me that I've carried with me for 27 years cut out of me. I'm not very happy about this. I'm also very worried.
Okay, I admit, I'm a compulsive worrier. I tend to let my imagination blow things out of proportion. So I researched. Bad idea. I actually felt worse after that. None of it sounds good at all. And all of this worry keeps coming back to the fact that the doctor still wants me to do a biopsy with a negative HPV after first telling me that it wouldn't be necessary. The reason the doctor gave for it is because of the particular cells that are abnormal. Why doesn't that sound good?
I haven't told many people. I've been waiting to find out the results before I do that. I have sought reassurance from a select few. My mom for one. I know that even while she tells me it's going to be okay, she's gonna worry it to death with me. It's nice to know that someone else is gonna help me bear my burden. I also told Sexy. I don't know why I told him, exactly. The only reason I can think of is that he shares a certain affection with me for the afflicted part. I figured he'd also be personally upset at the thought of it being even slightly butchered.
I guess his response was not what I was searching for from him. He did the typically thing, telling me not to worry about it just yet. I know he's concerned about my well-being. I know he's not trying to push my feelings to the side like they don't matter. I guess I just don't want to hear that it's okay for the time-being. It's not okay. There's something wrong. Even if the biopsy comes out okay, the doctor feels there is something wrong enough there to warrant a closer, more painful look. I'm not okay with that. I don't want sharp objects in that general area. I don't want to wait yet another month for the results. I don't want people to say the glass is half full. I want the damn glass totally full.
Okay. Time to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Better.
I suppose what it is that I wanted was for Sexy to worry with me too. I realize that he probably is. It's hard to dwell on the fact that a loved one is potentially seriously ill in a way that you can't do anything about. When they have a cold, you can bring them soup. When they have a cut, you can bandage it. But what do you do if it's the big C? I mean, that's what I'm really looking at here. No, it's much easier to push it to the back of the mind until a time when I has to be faced. At least, it is for most people. I just have a hard time pushing things to the back of my mind. I don't start feeling better until I know exactly what it is that I'm dealing with. I'd feel better knowing that I had cancer for sure than not knowing what I had. I suppose that sounds funny, but once you know what you're dealing with, you can start dealing with it. It's the damn waiting and wondering that drives me up the wall.
I guess, in the end, there's nothing to do but wait. I just wish I didn't have to. And I wish, I don't know, that maybe there was some way to make the waiting less painful. I just don't know how to do that. I don't know if having Sexy pulling his hair out with me would make it better. Even if he did, I know that I'd just spend me time telling him that it was okay and that there was nothing to worry about at this point in time. Funny how that works, isn't it?
Well, I do have to say that writing it out does make me feel better. And somehow, knowing that others are reading this and are feeling concern for me helps as well. And maybe, a few of you will keep me in mind when you say your prayers the next time. I would be most appreciative. Maybe it will help make this next week go faster, and then I can get the hardest part of the ordeal over with. After that, I get to find out what's going on and with knowledge comes understanding, and with understanding comes the tools to battle fear.
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