It never ceases to amaze me how much Murphy's Law affects us. This week alone has been one thing after another. First I was supposed to go get the test done and couldn't get it off work. Even though I had more than a months notice my boss wouldn't give me the day off. Yes there are only three people who work at my job, but it wasn't even on a busy day. Well, five people work there total if you count the bosses. But hey, I can't complain to much because I make good money and I can't afford to loose the Job.
Then I find out that my grandmother is in the hospital. She apparently had a hurnia and made it worse. The woman is 86-years-old and thought that lifting heavy things was a good idea. So I got that good news. Then I got four phone calls while I was trying to take a bath. On four different days.
Then I had to tell one of my childhood friends that my mom was sick and dying. Because we haven't talked in years. FUN FREAKIN FUN FUN!
So welcome to my life.....
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Status is Everything
So, yesterday at work I experienced something that I haven't experienced in some time. One of my characters came to the forefront of my mind and started yelling at me. Here is where you need to feel a little sorry for me *sighs*. She is the only character that I have that can age change on me at any given point in time. Most of my characters will change their age just for their back story but that's it, they are set in their age. This one on the other hand...we'll call her Curls. Curls doesn't have a set age, I never created her with one. Hence the beginning of my problem.
So Curls bounds up to me while I am doing my menial paycheck job. She's ten. She's glaring, and she starts yelling at me in some language I don't know. So I do what any person pretending to be sane at work so her co-workers don't talk about insane asylums. I ignored her. My mistake. So she sat on the corner of my desk, and promptly stated singing 'John Jacob Jinglehimer Schmidt' until I was forced to take my break. A ciggerate later I was calm enough to demand from her what the heck she wanted. She just stared at me and said: 'Status is Everything'.
Anyone who actually reads this will understand that when I'm writing I let my characters guide me until they flounder, then I take over. I then go back and re-write everything I just wrote into a cohesive document while they are tied in a corner with a bag of caramels to amuse them. This is how I work. I am in the process of working on one of my stories, trying to recover most of what I lost when my computer crashed. Then Curls shows her face.
Needless to say, those three words were enough for me to put three different writing projects aside. Characters I've played with before joined Curls. She also came equipped with several different characters of whom I have never met before.
I need to invest in Excedrin.
So Curls bounds up to me while I am doing my menial paycheck job. She's ten. She's glaring, and she starts yelling at me in some language I don't know. So I do what any person pretending to be sane at work so her co-workers don't talk about insane asylums. I ignored her. My mistake. So she sat on the corner of my desk, and promptly stated singing 'John Jacob Jinglehimer Schmidt' until I was forced to take my break. A ciggerate later I was calm enough to demand from her what the heck she wanted. She just stared at me and said: 'Status is Everything'.
Anyone who actually reads this will understand that when I'm writing I let my characters guide me until they flounder, then I take over. I then go back and re-write everything I just wrote into a cohesive document while they are tied in a corner with a bag of caramels to amuse them. This is how I work. I am in the process of working on one of my stories, trying to recover most of what I lost when my computer crashed. Then Curls shows her face.
Needless to say, those three words were enough for me to put three different writing projects aside. Characters I've played with before joined Curls. She also came equipped with several different characters of whom I have never met before.
I need to invest in Excedrin.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Sometimes I really dislike being a girl...
So as you can guess from the title my 'monthly glooms' have come along. I usually wouldn't talk about this on a blog, but I'm in pain, wide awake, and running a fever. All of the joys of my glooms. At least I think my fever is apart of the glooms, but I wasn't going to risk my friends son R.J. getting even sicker because I brought over a fever that wasn't the glooms. So as I endure the hold of cramping on my lower half I shall try to catch up my last few weeks (or months) since I have had a private moment to post.
Mom is doing better and worse. She's really shaken up over the rioting in Egypt, the crap going on in Libya, and now the Earthquake and Tsunami in Japan. She easily freaks over natural disasters, so it's normal to me. Except that this round of freaking out has brought extreme lathragia. She's been sleeping most of the time. When she's awake she's not all there most of the time. As you can guess the house has gone to pieces. I'm working 40 hours a week and when I get home I'm exhausted, because I haven't worked a full time job since we left St. Joseph. Even when I worked at the now closed Movie Gallery's I was close to full time, but never quite there.
At Domino's up north it was a different story, I was working 60 to 80 hour weeks an my life revolved around the stores. Mom's did too. I think part of her depression isn't the disease, it's the fact that she wants to do things, but she can't. She'll think of all these wonderful things she can do, but never does them because she forgets, or she won't because she gets scared.
Another thing that's wearing me out is weathering her emotional storms. It's not as bad as it was before her meds got straightened out, but it's still rough every now and then. She decided that I was spending all of her money on stupid things and that I was purposefully hiding my money from her and not paying the bills. She failed to realize that we're behind on our bills (I've repeatedly reminded her of these conversations but she doesn't believe me) because out check book balanced for two months. I didn't get a single check from my other job (before this one) for that whole time period because the checks kept balancing and I needed to pay the overdraft charges. We're almost caught up, but now quite there yet. She thinks I'm wasting all the money that we get. She's the one who spent $190 at goodwill this week. Do you see my problems?
I don't begrudge her her money, or her right to spend it. After bills are paid I tell her. Somehow, every freakin' month, I get talked into taking her to goodwill, or DAV, or the Salvation Army, and we spend at least 60 bucks on crap we don't need and will never use. Then I get yelled at for a bill she sees. This has gone on for the past two months. I'm about ready to pull my hair out to an extent.
I love her though and she's not ready for a nursing home yet. My Aunt is getting her an appointment for a specialist in St. Louis. Hopefully I can get a foot in the door so that when she needs to go to a nursing home it will be the one they have there that specializes and only takes in patients with her disease.
I gotta go now. Needless to say I have written very little creative wise in the past months *sighs* but there is little I can do. Some nights I don't have the energy to write, others I can't get on the computer because she's on it. I think I'm going to have to old school it with pen and paper for now. I need to get some of these thoughts out of my head before I go mad. It's getting a little crammed up there for me to think straight.
Mom is doing better and worse. She's really shaken up over the rioting in Egypt, the crap going on in Libya, and now the Earthquake and Tsunami in Japan. She easily freaks over natural disasters, so it's normal to me. Except that this round of freaking out has brought extreme lathragia. She's been sleeping most of the time. When she's awake she's not all there most of the time. As you can guess the house has gone to pieces. I'm working 40 hours a week and when I get home I'm exhausted, because I haven't worked a full time job since we left St. Joseph. Even when I worked at the now closed Movie Gallery's I was close to full time, but never quite there.
At Domino's up north it was a different story, I was working 60 to 80 hour weeks an my life revolved around the stores. Mom's did too. I think part of her depression isn't the disease, it's the fact that she wants to do things, but she can't. She'll think of all these wonderful things she can do, but never does them because she forgets, or she won't because she gets scared.
Another thing that's wearing me out is weathering her emotional storms. It's not as bad as it was before her meds got straightened out, but it's still rough every now and then. She decided that I was spending all of her money on stupid things and that I was purposefully hiding my money from her and not paying the bills. She failed to realize that we're behind on our bills (I've repeatedly reminded her of these conversations but she doesn't believe me) because out check book balanced for two months. I didn't get a single check from my other job (before this one) for that whole time period because the checks kept balancing and I needed to pay the overdraft charges. We're almost caught up, but now quite there yet. She thinks I'm wasting all the money that we get. She's the one who spent $190 at goodwill this week. Do you see my problems?
I don't begrudge her her money, or her right to spend it. After bills are paid I tell her. Somehow, every freakin' month, I get talked into taking her to goodwill, or DAV, or the Salvation Army, and we spend at least 60 bucks on crap we don't need and will never use. Then I get yelled at for a bill she sees. This has gone on for the past two months. I'm about ready to pull my hair out to an extent.
I love her though and she's not ready for a nursing home yet. My Aunt is getting her an appointment for a specialist in St. Louis. Hopefully I can get a foot in the door so that when she needs to go to a nursing home it will be the one they have there that specializes and only takes in patients with her disease.
I gotta go now. Needless to say I have written very little creative wise in the past months *sighs* but there is little I can do. Some nights I don't have the energy to write, others I can't get on the computer because she's on it. I think I'm going to have to old school it with pen and paper for now. I need to get some of these thoughts out of my head before I go mad. It's getting a little crammed up there for me to think straight.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Life is just wonderful....really...
Okay, I don't think that people who know me will believe that is not sarcastic. Things are going okay, I've just been busy. I have a new job, lost every single piece of writing on my computer, have new furniture, and that's about it. I stopped writing for awhile because I was pissed that everything got lost. I've only just started writing again and it is a story that I wrote back in middle school. Keep in mind a more grown-up and updated version of the tale. If anyone has any advice on how to find an editor and publisher and what not I would greatly apperciate it.
So the story of the smallest dragon is underway. Wagontrack Roadkill the Small. Hopefully people are honest enough to not steal his name from me. I would glare at people reading the blog but as it is impossible to do through a computer you must take my words for truth and imagine me glaring at you right now. I've set aside my other works for now, simply because I have to back track through my chest of horrors to even get an idea of where I was.
Yes, my trunk of horrors. I have a steamer trunk at the base of my bed that is filled with note books, sketch books, folders, and scraps of paper that I have filled with writing for the past 16 years. I call it the trunk of horror because if you can imagine opening it up and papers falling out then you get my filing system. I really should be more organized, but when I'm in the mood it feels like a treasure hunt. Unfortunately I haven't been in the mood for the last three months since I lost everything. I will try to post a short story that I have been working on. I wrote it once before but I decided to revise it a little. Be warned that if I do get it posted on here that you must understand this is the way that I look at the world...sorta. You'll understand if you wind up reading it. We'll see if it'll post, it's going to be a little over ten to fifteen pages...so you may just get it in increments if there is anyone out there who is actually reading this.
So, I guess that has been the last few months in a nutshell for me. Other than a random severe case of hives that I have been living with the last three weeks. Hives sucks. Anywho, I gotta get off of here and go finish cleaning my kitchen. No rest for the weary.
~The Moofie~
So the story of the smallest dragon is underway. Wagontrack Roadkill the Small. Hopefully people are honest enough to not steal his name from me. I would glare at people reading the blog but as it is impossible to do through a computer you must take my words for truth and imagine me glaring at you right now. I've set aside my other works for now, simply because I have to back track through my chest of horrors to even get an idea of where I was.
Yes, my trunk of horrors. I have a steamer trunk at the base of my bed that is filled with note books, sketch books, folders, and scraps of paper that I have filled with writing for the past 16 years. I call it the trunk of horror because if you can imagine opening it up and papers falling out then you get my filing system. I really should be more organized, but when I'm in the mood it feels like a treasure hunt. Unfortunately I haven't been in the mood for the last three months since I lost everything. I will try to post a short story that I have been working on. I wrote it once before but I decided to revise it a little. Be warned that if I do get it posted on here that you must understand this is the way that I look at the world...sorta. You'll understand if you wind up reading it. We'll see if it'll post, it's going to be a little over ten to fifteen pages...so you may just get it in increments if there is anyone out there who is actually reading this.
So, I guess that has been the last few months in a nutshell for me. Other than a random severe case of hives that I have been living with the last three weeks. Hives sucks. Anywho, I gotta get off of here and go finish cleaning my kitchen. No rest for the weary.
~The Moofie~
Saturday, October 23, 2010
*beats her head against a wall*
As I stand here beating my head against a wall and calling myself thirty kinds of stupid let me fill you in on my week. After I recovered from Pneumonia and got back to my job (which are the two reasons why I haven't posted anything here for a while), my computer started acting strange. This week it crashed, two days ago actually. I lost everything, all of my writing, all of my pictures, everything. Who was the genius who forgot to back up her files....that would be ME!!! So now I have to go from memory...because I didn't even have my hard copy printed. So now I have to start all over. It's a fracken wonderful life right now!
But on a happier note, I now have a puppy!! His name is Eli and even though we bought him for Momma he has chosen me! I guess that's all for now, I will be back here in a little bit to type in more.
But on a happier note, I now have a puppy!! His name is Eli and even though we bought him for Momma he has chosen me! I guess that's all for now, I will be back here in a little bit to type in more.
Friday, September 10, 2010
TV's there to make you feel bad!
Okay, I am sitting here with butterflies in my stomach and upset. Stupid 'What Would You Do?'. I just want to jump through the TV and strangle some people for not stepping up and doing something, but then the stupid show makes me think if I would actually say something. URGH I won't know until it happens to me, but then it makes me worry that I won't do something when the inside of me is screaming.
And now I am watching the Barbra Walters special about the kids who are 7 years old and their bodies are 70...sometimes I think I just need to unplug.
Anyway, there should be more of me posting online now that I finally have internet at my home, if Mom will let me on it sometimes. She is more addicted to the internet than I am, I just hope that she remembers how to use it. Last time she got infront of a computer she had no idea what she was doing and it made me so sad because she was really adept at it before. Her memory seems like it is going faster now that it has been in the last year. It's to be expected with her disease, but it still hurts everytime she makes a strange comment. An example of that was the other day when we were bickering. She said that I got the money out of her jeans in the bathroom, I told her I got them out of the jeans in the kitchen (where our laundry was sorted at the time) not the bathroom, and she gave me a strange look and said that she didn't say bathroom she said laundry room. Conversations like this have happened two or three times (including the one above) in the last couple of weeks.
My friends keep asking me how much longer I am going to be able to take Mom. I wish that they understood that it isn't a matter of 'taking' her. It is not only my duty as a daughter, I know my mother better than anyone (including her own mother...don't get me started on my grandmother) and I know how she reacts to people. My mother has never been a stranger person, she's nice to people but she can't be alone or around strangers for long periods of time. Sorry for this post to get so serious, when I get upset I bounce from topic to topic.
And now I am watching the Barbra Walters special about the kids who are 7 years old and their bodies are 70...sometimes I think I just need to unplug.
Anyway, there should be more of me posting online now that I finally have internet at my home, if Mom will let me on it sometimes. She is more addicted to the internet than I am, I just hope that she remembers how to use it. Last time she got infront of a computer she had no idea what she was doing and it made me so sad because she was really adept at it before. Her memory seems like it is going faster now that it has been in the last year. It's to be expected with her disease, but it still hurts everytime she makes a strange comment. An example of that was the other day when we were bickering. She said that I got the money out of her jeans in the bathroom, I told her I got them out of the jeans in the kitchen (where our laundry was sorted at the time) not the bathroom, and she gave me a strange look and said that she didn't say bathroom she said laundry room. Conversations like this have happened two or three times (including the one above) in the last couple of weeks.
My friends keep asking me how much longer I am going to be able to take Mom. I wish that they understood that it isn't a matter of 'taking' her. It is not only my duty as a daughter, I know my mother better than anyone (including her own mother...don't get me started on my grandmother) and I know how she reacts to people. My mother has never been a stranger person, she's nice to people but she can't be alone or around strangers for long periods of time. Sorry for this post to get so serious, when I get upset I bounce from topic to topic.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
So I have invaded the world of Facebook. If anyone actually reads this you can find me on Facebook as Moofie Nonya. Just wanted to let everyone know.
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