They're also really not particularly nice to hospital staff which sort of boggles my mind. They're not total assholes, but they're that typical entitled "i'm the only one here who REALLY matters" kind of patient. Give me a break. Get your own blanket. It's not a fucking hotel. I REALLY hate that shit. But, whatever. I handled what I could and now I'm f'n exhausted because mentally, not fucking up for that long under those circumstances is difficult at best. I don't *think* I fell into any trouble, but who the fuck knows. We'll see.
In other news. My mom had another shadow on her mammo, but she went back in and now they just want her back in 6 months. So far, they think it's just our lumpy denseness. She just really doesn't have time for cancer again. None of us do, seriously. My aunt STILL hasn't had HER cancer surgery, because my uncle came up with hydrocephalus and had to have a shunt put in. Now he's probably going into rehab to relearn to walk properly and so my aunt can go have her surgery, however, she's not allowed to drive after so she's in a panic, so she may just have to live with my folks again. My poor dad, now living with his mom AND my aunt. oy.
My grandma is like, a real normal grandma and it's utterly weirding me out. I'm having trouble trusting the whole situation. It doesn't seem right at all. I guess maybe my grandfather was SUCH a huge dick that he poisoned everyone around him? It's weird. We went to a pet store and she loved it. Who is this woman? She thinks it's upsetting that gays can't get married and why do people have to get married anyway when they can just live together? Who IS this woman? I don't know.
We're working so hard, and paychecks continue to be a rare commodity for me. I *think* J just booked me for a food photography shoot that'll be a couple hundred though, so that would rule. Plus, if I'm not a total asshole, I could, in theory, pull down a couple hundred getting some writing done today and then I might see that check in a monthish? God. It was SO nice being out of debt for those, what, 5 months? Fucking kitchen. Seriously, man. That thing ate my goddamned soul and my wallet. I do love my kitchen, but we're looking at YEARS to pay this off. It maka me cry. I'm doing the old money shuffle where you trade one credit card debt to another to try to extend your interest free period. Real trash math. It's awful. I need to get some kind of massive money score. Or, like, 3 weddings. Shooting 3 weddings would save me maybe 1 month of anxiety. Oh, and the lens I ordered for the wedding on the 5th came! Buuuut, they sent nikon, not canon, so FUCK ME. I hope the new one comes in time. I don't need that stress, I really don't.
There was so much more, but it's so early and I burned my mouth so badly last night. I'm miserable.
I'll come back. Bitching feels good today.
That's my life. Seriously. J and I are work machines. It's only 2 months into "the year that had better make us rich" and I'm already f'n exhausted.
New clients are coming though. Excitingly large ones, which is nice. Cash flow is a *little* bit better, in that checks come in at least once a week of late and we haven't had to hide from the landlord. That was a bummer week, let me tell you.
In awesome work news? We did the rough layout shots for our commercial today. It's going to be AWESOME. It's a 30 second spot and it'll be premiering in the center of the island during the premiere of Mad Men. I'm kind of exploding over that. If it gets any traction, we'll expand the area. We're adding health insurance in March and just about everyone is going to be full time soon. It's pretty cool. Maybe soon I'll be confident that one day I won't get horribly sick and bankrupt the shit out of my universe. Le sigh.
Speaking of sick, so, that pneumonia lasted for fucking EVER and I went to see Dr. B and he's got me on my infusion every day now instead of 6 days a week. This is like, wahhhh. It was nice having one day off from stabbing myself, however, it's nicer not to feel like total shit all the time, which, admittedly, I do not since we increased the dose. It would REALLY HELP if I could just get below 130lbs, but I'm starting to come to the conclusion that adult me is not capable of that. I just can't pull it off. My body HATES IT. I mean, I can GET there, but staying there means living a totally abnormal life, so is that really the best thing to do? I'm not sure it is. I CAN lose a bit though, and in that spirit, today I went to costco and loaded up the office freezer with veggies. If there's garbage there, that's what I'll eat, same with veggies. Rap has gained 30lbs since starting work, B has gained I think 15 and C has gained 10. I have no idea what I've gained because I'm so up and down, but I think all together, this is a sign that we are too fucking snacky in this office. So, today, diet drinks and veggies in the house. Suck it, bakery.
In house news, oy, I can't go into the situation with the contractor right now, I'm too blah over it. I will, at some point, upload a voice entry on it, because it's THAT RETARDED. Suffice it to say it involves being locked up in a psych ward and severe IV drug use. Good times, people!
This only happens to us, I swear. Also, the phrase "I guess it just came to a head on THIS job" was bandied about. Lovely! Good for US!
When colin attacks fred, I'm all "leave fred alone!" when fred attacks colin I'm all "you go, fred! kick her butt!" colin is bigger, I can't help it. Colin is also, apparently, not shedding her claws properly. The sheaths are staying on and her nails are now super thick. After a little research and logic I think the solution is to buy a huge honkin' tall scratching post. Why won't the one we have work? She's too tall. It's fine for fred, he can get a stretch, but when colin does it, the thing falls over. Enter HIDEOUS CAT FURNITURE. I'll hide it in a closet when the rare person stops in.
In hmm news, I took a photo of me I don't hate!
In criminal news, I used a very (I stress very) mild form of extortion to get $50 a month out of a local civic association! Go me!
In food news. Dinner is almost ready. I must jet. I will return.
That's a pattern here, whiney. Whatev's, WHAT EVS!
Yeah. Lets see. Just about one month to Vieques. I'm SO excited. It doesn't seem like it's really going to happen. I mean, it will, but I can't believe it.
Also, I'm kind of totally getting my weather wish. That is, warm winter, then kiiiinda shitty right before Vieques. I mean, if it's not shitty at ALL, I won't REALLY appreciate the tropics right? Well, no, I will, but it's more poetic this way.
Speaking of poetic. I don't write. I'm the worst. I can't make myself do it. Someone help me. PLEASE?! I really am enjoying photography and it blends so nicely with my gardening thing. See:
(speaking of which, ghoulgurl, tell me that last one wouldn't make a craaaaaazy box or some kinda something, right? Minus the CAT HAIR on that rightmost pitcher. COLIN!!!! (shakes fist at the sky)
But yeah, the fact that I don't write, it's just, uggg. It's awful. That's what I take the most pride in when I do it. But, much like exercise, I'm only motivated to do it as I'm lying in bed at night, falling asleep. Which, really, brain? THAT is how we're going to play this? Because, come ON.
How do you make yourself do something you really don't want to do? I mean, dude, I clean the litter box, I clean up cat puke, I'll even EVENTUALLY put away the laundry, but I cannot make myself write. It's shameful and atrocious. It's embarrassing and awful. I want to be one of the cool kids who gets awesome shit done and I'm the lame kid! It's so bad. It's REALLY bad. I literally sat at the counter ALL day today, and I couldn't even look at the pages program to TRY to write. I don't understand. My brain is like a 4 year old and I'm mummy dearest. Do I make it sit there doing NOTHING until it submits to my will? What do I DO? Do I need to go to therapy for this, or do I need to man up?
(also, yes, it was a great show, but every time someone says "man up," world, you don't HAVE to burst into song, m'kay? Thanks.)
My grandmother is moving in with my parents because my uncle is a sadistic abusive creep.
J's brother flew all the way to cali for that ellen thing and then got BUMPED. So that was lol. He's one of these people that was on TV one time and now will spend the rest of his life chasing it. How did that NOT happen to me with the Ananda Lewis show debacle? I have no idea.
Someone asked me to take down an article on a site I was hosting for them (kind of a head mucky muck in the town and it was because I made a county executive have a stroke with an article I wrote, even though I SAID it wasn't 100% sure yet, it was about something POSSIBLE that I sure HOPE WOULDN'T HAPPEN) so instead I took their site down and made a whole other site on which I can say whatever the fuck I want.
That's what I do instead of writing.
Do you understand the problem?
Infiltrates in my lung. Boo too doo. It's fine, whatever. Honestly, it doesn't hurt really, I'm just achey and miserable. I just realized that sentence doesn't make sense. Let me amend, my lung doesn't hurt, the rest of me does, this is preferable to the usual pneumonia. With all the shit I've inhaled in the past few months, it's really not bad. I'm running 99. Fine. Levaquin is in me
Jesse is working like a fucking maniac. It's getting silly. All he does is work and sleep.
We'll get past this.
Tomorrow I get my boob sono. Acting like a responsible citizen. Wednesday, I have to be in the office for what might be a huge meeting. Lets hope it's HUGE. Huge would mean more full time employees and health insurance with dental! It would mean paying down debt and breathing a bit. Good stuff, seriously. So, lets hope, eh?
In other news, again with the Ellen nonsense. It's starting up AGAIN. I can barely discuss how STUPID this is that I even have to deal with it. It's just so absurd, it's killing me. I can't even think about it.
I have to go, my oil is hot.
Go download our app, more than that, USE it. Help someone out, eh? Yeah.
Last night, ALL night, I dreamed that I needed to go to the doctor, but I kept being stopped. Being detained, car stolen, etc. The night sweats continue, in my waking life. In the dream I knew that I had either TB, Cancer, or perimenopause. Whatever the problem, it HAD to be checked out, but I couldn't get myself to the doctor.
That was the last straw. I've now got a Dr. B appointment, a breast sono appointment, and I'm on my way now to do a walk in with the GP. The pain my my chest is just sitting and my spleen, after giving me a break for a few days, began to twinge again last night. So, enough. Grow up. Deal. Such is life. I'm just running the wash (the night sweats are ABSURD) and checking my mail. Then I'm dropping off some dry cleaning and that is IT. Blood tests for me. I can't figure this out myself, so someone else is going to have to. Lets hope its absolutely nothing, shall we? We shall.
- Current Music:Carrie; James -
So far? Yeah. Friday, we got the app accepted, which is just, HUGE. Here http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/i-got-a-g
We found out about the approval right after picking up a donkey kong jr. machine for the office, which made it a super rad day. We did THAT after being told by a client that he had 70k to blow on us, with the caveat that I be involved in all of his projects. He has some lunatic crush on me. It's, well, it is what it is, but overall? That's a badass day.
The house is still finished. I still can't believe it. I should be getting a paycheck Monday, which will be excellent. Everything is largely excellent except (and you KNEW there had to be one of those, right?) my aunt was just diagnosed with uterine cancer. She's got an appt with the surgeon on Monday. Hopefully it'll turn out to just be a hysterectomy, and maybe some radiation. We'll see. My mom is EERILY calm about it. It's weird. I'm trying to keep out of it until I need to be in it. I'm trying to believe that things are turning in a largely good direction. We shall see. Next week will be quite telling. Yes indeedy.
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- Current Location:US, New York, Mastic Beach, Suffolk, Lakeview Dr, 40
I swear, I'm a complete idiot.
Furthering my idiocy? I got all upset and started crying after they left. Immediately reduced into my weepy lame ass "woe is me, I never got to do the princess engagement moment and I never will and it's not fair and boo hoo hoo bullshit." At that point, I get so enraged at myself for having even an inkling of that response that it's just this self defeating cycle of awful and well, you can imagine the night didn't end on a particularly snuggly note. I don't know why I'm obsessed with this idea of "real." I never feel real. I'm not a real writer, i'm not a real photographer, I'm not really married, it's not really my house. Central to the core of my being is this strange and alienating sensation of being a complete and utter fraud. I manage alright most of the time and then a friend gets engaged, or someone says, oh, you've been together for ten years but how long have you been MARRIED? (because, you know, the previous ten years DON'T COUNT, right? Nope, not at all.
You know what, giddy newlywed with a sparkly diamond band, how about you come to me after your new spouse has to help you on a commode and THEN see if you're as snuggly and happy and J and I are. How about, if you can't get through THAT shit. or, you know, your fucking house exploding in sewage and having NONE of it covered by insurance, things like that, and having NEVER even BICKERED about it, THEN you come to me and tell me that I'm not REALLY with J and that we can't REALLY understand what it's like until we get to sign a paper that validates my life. How about that?
See how rational I am there? See how in the daytime I can say "wow, that's really stupid. J and I are as real as anyone else and just because he never asked me doesn't mean he's not committed and just because I don't have a ring doesn't mean a goddamned thing either, and honestly, I'd rather pay for our kitchen and even a TV for the bedroom than a ring which speaks only to others and not to me," but at night, when there's just me and my thoughts and the whatifs crawl inside my ear, well, then it's a disaster. I'm an asshole, and I'm small, and petty and ugly. I hate it. I hate that aspect of myself. I want to be the kind of person who doesn't give a shit, but somewhere deep inside is a moron who pretended to be a princess as a kid. Stupid princesses! Fuck those princesses. They're awful, awful role models. My life is, on the whole, magnificent, and yet I have this hole in my heart and it's just rotten. There's literally nothing short of becoming psychotically wealthy that can fix it, and well, yeah. I dunno. I don't want to know. I just needed to spew some venom here.
Oh and ghoulgurl, this literally has NOTHING to do with your deal. I was 100% happy about that. Possibly because it was just, done. No sparkly magical princess times, just we've put in the time, we're signing on the line. Actually, same deal with larksong. Which, I suppose, means it's not really marriage that eats at me, it's engagement. Which, WHY? Why do I give a flying fuck? I don't know. It's been like this forever. Ever since I realized that marriage was off the table for me, legally, for some reason, engagements have made me go apeshit. Not marriages though. WTF? I REFUSE to go back to therapy over this. I really do. Besides, there's pretty much no one left in my life to get engaged anyway. I mean, my brother will, probably in the next year, and that'll suck. But after that? I can't think of anyone else. We have a while before office staff gets there (if they have brain 1 in their heads) and that should be that. Gah. I need someone to sit and listen to me have an utterly apocalyptic weepy meltdown over this and then maybe I'll get past it. When you just talk to yourself, you only make it worse. Ok, That's enough of that. I'm officially ending this absolute bullshit. It's idiotic and I'm not having it. NOT HAVING IT.
Also, we submitted the app the other night. If it's accepted, this could be it. Step one on the other side of the hump. We've got more coming down the pipeline and things are looking good. If I don't ruin it with my utter idiocy, all the better.
- Current Music:Hoarders - 1848358 -
Ok, to be fair: kitchen and bedroom DID explode and insurance didn't cover a PENNY of that. I can't work the hours my sister can due to my fragile fragile little body (they call me ms. glass. I like to say that now, it's fun,) and also we now have 2 full time staff members and soon a third possibly and also a part timer and the taxes on that? Oy.
Plus, things ARE looking a little bit better right now. We FINALLY got paid for that one big job and we STILL have about 50k in accounts receivable, which, once you're getting checks every so often becomes comforting rather than a source of constant rage. There's good stuff on the horizon, I'm insinuating myself back into village politics (albeit in a sneaky way, which, honestly, is more fun) and our house is a NICE place to be now.
I even discovered a plant shelf I didn't even know I had before, which is probably only exciting to me, but still! Yay!
I dunno, the point of this is, I felt like an asshole being happy about that fun sister fact and I'm not exactly sure why. It just felt lame to be relieved. So, the question for the day is, is it? Hmmm.
I have received approval on the **T invoices ($1,400 and $9,450) and asked accounting to proceed with processing.
I will let you know when payment will be mailed, I asked accounting to expedite. Thank you.
THANK EVERYTHING! That will be seriously, seriously, seriously beneficial to our lives. Christ. Maybe 2012 WILL be better? Maybe.
Seriously, I would NEVER leave an invoice unpaid for this long. How do people SLEEP?
We're money magnets, we're money magnets. Keep saying it until it's true, right? Yeah. Now if only J gets back in time to come get my car, because if he doesn't, there's gonna be mega troubles. :(