Tag: cursing cats

Dear Henry Cavill, bleach your hair and stop showering.

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How is Henry Cavill Superman the same guy as Henry Cavill Geralt of Rivia? Someone tell me how. I have so many questions. One of them: When is Mr C gonna go grey?

Seriously, I wouldn’t believe this is the same actor is it wasn’t for that chin. I don’t get it. Even in a google search 90% of Henry Cavill pictures: He’s not ugly by any means, but not sexy. One Geralt of Rivia picture: hold me back! He’s like the definition of sexy. Maybe a bit of it is that I’ve read the books and would totally do that character — but he’s hot too! Like REALLY hot. Geralt of Rivia does it for me.

And I’m sitting here watching Superman like WTF? How? Why did you do this to Geralt? Why is Geralt such a clean cut pussy now? Lame.

What if it’s me?

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So now that moms funeral has past, things are kinda resolved a bit. Or at least I thought they were. I’m actually having a lot of anxiety about the relationship I had with mom and how I perceived it. I perceived it as we were friends. I talked to her twice a day. She was going to move up here and live with us in a few years. But she never told my sisters (whom she lived with) about that plan. She said she didn’t want to stir up drama and God would work it out. But now I’m thinking what if she just didn’t want to tell ME she didn’t want to move in?

Also the phone calls. I called her twice a day. That’s pretty needy. I thought she liked it. If I missed a call, she’d call me to see what was up (or to rag me on skipping work cause if I didn’t call in the morning, she totally knew I was skipping work). However, whenever sister 2 would call while mom was here, she’d roll her eyes ’cause sister 2 will call in a crisis or wasted and keep you on the phone for over and hour before you can get off. You’ll talk in circles for 45 minutes and just be dying to get off the phone. Did mom roll her eyes every time I called?

She told me she and sister 1 never talked. And sister 1 was mean to her in my opinion. She treated her like she was old and getting senile (she wasn’t). I feel like sister 1 gaslighted her a lot and made her feel like shit. But now that she’s dead, sister 1 is in hysterics that her best friend and her “person” are gone. But dude, you treated mom like slave labor. You weren’t nice to her. You talked about how she was getting too old to do some things IN FRONT OF HER like she was some senile old dog. I wanted her to move in with me to get away from you.

However, it seems we all thought mom was “our person” and our friend. Which I guess you shouldn’t play favorites with your kids. That’s fine. But I thought what I had with mom was different and special. And now I feel like maybe she lied to me. Like maybe I wasn’t special at all. Like maybe she didn’t like my calls all the time. Maybe she never intended to move here. Did she lie to me? Was I wrong? Was I just the 4th kid she had to treat with kid gloves because I’m just as crazy as my sisters?

I don’t know and I’m devastated at the thought. And I can’t make it right. I can’t apologize and have a better relationship with her. I thought we had the perfect relationship though. Was I wrong? This is horrible.

A new chapter

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Mom’s funeral was Monday. The service was perfect, the flowers were beautiful, there was no family drama. It was more than I could have hoped for. She would have loved it.

I took down the Christmas decorations in her room today. She would have never left them up this long. It would have been decorated for Valentines by now. I did not decorate it for Valentines Day. However, I did change out the Christmas for her bright orange and teal quilt. The cats favorite chair changed from a Christmas throw and pillow to a more summery combination.

It’s funny. When we take down Christmas in the house, it always seems so much colder and more sterile. Moms room doesn’t. It still feels comfy cozy.

I do feel a small sense of closure. Like healing can start now. Waiting over a month to hold the funeral was a heavy stress on all of us. Now it feels like the page has turned to a new chapter. Your favorite character just died but you keep reading.

And a suitcase full of black

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Man, life does not take a break when your world stops. It doesn’t stop. It feels like it should stop. My mom died, the funeral is Monday, everyone be respectful. But no. Your sisters dog still tears and ACL and requires surgery. Your shower still gets a leak that requires a plumber. Work is still a shit show. The escape plan for May is getting pushed back to October. Your husband is still having the worst week of his career. And you’re packing a suitcase full of black clothes.

A suitcase full of black. I’m still oddly numb and practical about everything. I had to make sure my husband had appropriate clothes which required clothes shopping. I had to get new black pants for us both. So this afternoon we’re driving down to stay with the family tonight.

My over stressed husband, who’s been in quarantine for nearly a year, is being forced to stay with other bubbles. However, it’s unavoidable. He knows this. I do worry about all of these bubbles crashing for the funeral. Ugh. When are we getting a damn vaccine rolled out for all of us? I can only pray there’s no virus spreading going on with the funeral. We won’t be having visitation at the funeral but we’re having a big lunch after. Not remotely my decision. But how can I say no? It’s moms funeral. The family wants to do lunch after which I thought was nice. But now a lot of people are coming to lunch. I’m a bit worried. I’ve already bowed out my husband but I feel obligated to go. Mom just died of Covid and we’re having a party. Blarg.

Well, wish us luck. Emotional and health-wise. Here we go.

Trying to keep my cool

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So mom’s funeral is Monday. This is my off Friday, so when I filled out my time card, I went ahead and entered bereavement leave for the funeral next week. I almost burst into tears.

I love time off. I hate working and in particular I hate my current job (don’t worry, I have something in the pipeline for May). So missing work is awesome. And free PTO? Sign me up! But bereavement leave… for my momma? I don’t want this. Not like this. I’ve joked about using bereavement leave in the past for my father because I’m a terrible human being — but my momma?

I guess it’s strange things that can trigger grief. K gave me a card I knew was from old coworkers with condolences and I didn’t even open it until I got home. Couldn’t afford to cry on my lunch break.

K said shes coming to the funeral. K, you so don’t need to drive two hours to come. I wont be able to see you and even if I did, I couldn’t give you the big hug you deserve and cry on you cause she was my momma. I’m crying as I type this. I’m so glad you at least knew her a little bit. I was so blessed to have such wonderful relationship with mom and I’m so blessed to have you as a best friend.

Alright, I’m gonna go hug the cat.

It’s like magic! Or not.

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So the air conditioning and heating system at work seems a bit wonky.  I don’t think it was designed for all these closed labs.  So every time you open a lab door you have to overcome the pressure differential between the lab and the hallway and there’s a gust of air.  In one of the bigger labs, this pressure differential is pretty significant.  We all joke about it.  Even strangers make small talk jokes about it when we’re opening the door.  I have to lean into it with my full body to have enough force and then the gust of wind is enough to feel like you’re exiting a cabin in the snowy Alps on a gusty day. 

So basically you get a good hard breeze once you overpower the door.  Enough to blow your hair and clothes like a Pantene commercial.   It reminds me of when magic spells are cast or broken on TV and the gust of energy that bursts forth knocks everyone over.  Like I should be entering Narnia through this damn door. 

But there’s no Narnia.  Just a shitty hallway.  Major let down.  Maybe one day it’ll be Narnia?

Just thought I’d share.

Vestibular Physical Therapy

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I went to Physical Therapy today for my vestibular system.  (Short Summary –> car wreck -> concussion -> post concussion syndrome -> get very sick when I drive too long especially at night).  So most of the tests I passed pretty easily.  My central eye focus is at 10cm when it should be at 3, so we can work on that.  But man, she tested my balance and fuck that. 

Most of the balance tests I passed.  Except that I’m terrible at balancing on one leg.  I’m not a yoga person, okay? But then she had me stand on this squishy wedge and close my eyes and stand there for 30 seconds.  Yeah, no.  I have terrible balance.  This thing is squishing all over the place, I can’t do this.  Like every time I tried I had to grab the bars.  This is not a skill I need as an engineer, can we just ignore this?  I don’t give a shit about my balance. 

So then the part we do give a shit about.  Lets get your heart rate up to trigger your symptoms of nausea and vertigo to see where we’re at.  Let me rephrase that for those in the back: Get on the exercise bike and we’ll just keep increasing the intensity until you feel like you’re gonna puke.  Got that?  Go. 

Yall, I didn’t know I was gonna get all sweaty and out of breath first thing this morning before work.  Awesome.  We went until I was like “yeah I’m good.”  But then problem was we only got to a twinge of a headache.  No nausea.  Which I kinda didn’t think would happen considering I bike to the grocery store without getting nausea.  But yeah, no dice.  So that means heart rate isn’t a good variable to hang our hat on “about to barf.”  Which means my practices just have to go till I feel ill.  Like last time.  I had been promised we wouldn’t have to get to the ill feeling part.  But without a good gauge of when im about to feel ill, well, you gotta go all the way. 

I’m gonna be honest, I’m not 100% sold on committing to doing this again.  I’m seeing her again next week, but I just don’t feel like they can really help me with driving at night.  If we can’t duplicate my symptoms in the office, then how can we help them?

Why can’t I just wear anti-nausea patches all the time?

I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Then the check engine light came on.

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I has been a week. Let me tell ya. Monday I was so anxious and overwhelmed that I skipped work. I had watched 90 Day Fiance which was me and moms show. We both call each other to remind each other it is coming on and then talk about how crazy everyone is. And Natalie be CRAZY. Mom will never see how crazy she is and we cant talk about it. Who’s watching our show with me now? Just me and the cat, I guess. And he doesn’t care how crazy Natalie is, which she really is.

I’ve been hyper focused on the cat as a bit of a break from the far heavier death of mom. So of course I’m upset that even with all the changes, he’s still only got a life expectancy of 1 – 2 years. I assume that includes a lot of decline towards the end as well. So it’s difficult. I just gave him his fluids via stabby needle an hour or so ago. He’s resting in his bed next to me. With a big lump of fluid on his side. Poor guy.

Also, I’m anxious about starting vestibular physical therapy. With not having to drive much thanks to Covid, I had kinda of convinced myself I was all better. This is fine. Ya know? And acknowledging that I still get really sick driving is a hard pill to swallow. I certainly don’t want to go back to last January when I had to do my physical therapy exercises twice a day and got nausea and vertigo every time. It was miserable. So I don’t wanna. That’s basically what it boils down to. I don’t wanna.

Work’s been… bad, I guess? Honestly, I haven’t been working. I’ve been just getting though my days. I’m sorry, I’m just trying to not break down, yall. Like I said, Monday I didn’t even make it in to work. So my not-very-important task has been halted half done. But this is the last week of the sprint so my favorite coworker was assigned to help me with it. Of course DeBitch made a snarky asshole remark. DeBitch was one of the main reasons I didn’t go in Monday. I just didn’t want to deal with that shit. And of course I feel terrible.

It’s a team carry. I’m the teammate down and my team is carrying me over the finish line. It’s embarrassing and …well… embarrassing. I’m ashamed of myself. But then I also need the carry. So I’m grateful but also want to crawl up in a hole and die. Mostly the latter.

So I’ve got a lot going on that’s stressing me out. A lot. And then the check engine light in my car comes on yesterday on the way to work. God dammit, are you serious? So I have a scanner to read the codes — it’s some faulty circuit in the temperature sensor. But still, kick me when I’m down, will ya?

I just want to crawl up in a hole and die. Or to retire and crawl up on the couch and never leave the house again. That’s fine too.