springading.com

Jim started a new blog last week. In his last post, he mentioned I haven’t been writing as much on my own blog. I guess that’s a hint.

So, here’s a new post to prove I’m still around. Nothing much going on. Still working a lot, still getting put on the phones most days, although it is finally slowing down, and Fridays are pretty much the days we don’t get put on at all. (Last week, we were only on for 20 minutes. THAT, I can handle.) Next week, we’re not supposed to sign in at all–they claim they’re going to try to keep us off the hotline. I’m not delusional; we’ll probably be put on. But I see this as progress. Calls are slowing down again.

And thank god. Being on the hotline so much has made me start disliking work, which has been pushing me toward depression. I don’t mind calls here and there, but for 6-8 hours a day? It just wears me out.

That, honestly, has been why I haven’t been around. Also, when Jim’s in school, I don’t have access to the laptop as much. Oh, and he’s also been working on his novel again. Not that I’m arguing. My vision has really been acting up, and squinting at a computer screen some more at home when I’ve been doing it all day just isn’t my idea of fun.

Honestly, I’m too tired to say much more, and I have Lexx waiting for me on my big screen TV. (Which, admittedly, is still kind of blurry. I’m going to make an appointment for new glasses this week.) So I’ll end this post with pictures, showing what 2012 is like so far:

Weird, the bread from my new bread machine is pretty much the same color as my cutting board.

I crocheted a dice bag for Jim. It has since been completed. He seems happy with it.

I made a "cat mat" for Piper, but at first, she wouldn't stay in it until I put it next to Emmy. Awww. She LOVES Emmy.

I found this in my lunch box on Monday. It's some sort of scroll thing. When I opened it up, I found that Jim had put a love poem in it. Sweetest thing ever.

Things I also did this week but don’t have pictures of: I got an award of appreciation for the massive amounts of overtime I did the last 6 months of 2011, along with a keychain. (Sounds lame, but I’ve actually been wanting a new keychain, so it works out. ) I also went to a visitation for Angela’s mom, who passed away last Sunday, and I went to an art exhibition where another friend was–is, actually, as it’s still going–a featured artist. I did both of these things on Friday night. I know. I’ve never done the “partying on Friday night” thing right. Oh, well. One day I’ll learn.

When did Pandora start displaying ads from Match.com on the right-hand side of the screen? How annoying. Especially when you’re a happily married woman. That’s just a recipe for trouble if your husband happens to walk by, sees the blissful expression on your face, and thinks it has to do with the guys on the screen.

No, honey, really, it’s Amy Lee’s voice that’s doing it for me!

Actually, I don’t know if that explanation would get me in any less trouble, heh.

Anyway. For someone who likes her life to be uneventful, there have been a lot of “events” around here. As promised, Tuesday was hellish. We were on the phones all day; queue times were crazy. Our work served pizza for lunch to help make the day more bearable. That would have been awesome, if I were not on a diet. While I do allow myself a “cheat day” once a week, Tuesday was not that day, and I was not wasting my cheat day for pizza at work. So I had to grit my teeth, take phone calls, and smell pizza I couldn’t have.

To make the day worse, it ended a text from Jim while I was rebooting my computer for something like the third time that day. I glanced at my phone. You’ll need to get a ride home. I’ve been in an accident. I’m okay.

Sigh. I got a ride home from Angela, which was fun, as I haven’t gotten to talk to her in a while. We pulled up in the parking lot and checked out the damage of my car.

My poor car. My cute, little car. Yeah. It’s not so cute right now. The passenger front below the headlight and along the right side over the tire are gone. Now the windshield wiper fluid tank and a tangle of wires around it and the headlight show for all the world to see. You know those sci-fi shows where there’s an android, all nice and human-looking, and the android inevitably gets injured so pieces of flesh go missing, so you see part human face, part scary robot face underneath? Yeah, my car reminds me of that. It’s kinda creepy, if I think about it too much.

Luckily, though, everyone’s okay. Most the damage was taken by our car. The other guy only got a broken finger, and Jim wasn’t hurt at all. With the exception of having to pay my deductible, insurance is paying for everything else. Jim, of course, feels terrible about the whole thing, but hey, when you drive around as much as he does, it’s bound to happen.

Also? This is what insurance is for. I’ve had my own car since I was 18 years old and have never filed a claim. As far as I’m concerned, this is kind of like the pay off for paying through the nose all these years. Kind of a crappy pay off, admittedly.   But still.

Oddly enough, while you would think I would be freaking out about money, I’ve decided that Jim and I should go out to dinner and a movie tonight. There’s nothing like a good, old-fashioned car accident to make you realize that life is short and that you spend too many days doing nothing, saving money for “someday,” when that elusive “someday” may never come. And it’s true: Jim and I rarely go out. Oh, we talk about it. We’ll be like, “Let’s go crazy! Let’s go out! Let’s cut loose and party!” And then we’ll go to Walmart and sulk around the aisles, knowing full well that we’re not going to buy a damned thing.

Tonight, though, it’s gonna be Mexican food and a movie! And it’s gonna be awesome. I’m glad I didn’t give my cheat day up on Tuesday for that stupid pizza. Even now, I’m pretty much skipping lunch to make sure I have plenty of calories to work with for dinner. And let me tell you, I am starving. The fact that I’m daydreaming about what I’ll order tonight is probably not helping.

I just gotta hang in there for three more hours. In just a little under three hours, Jim and I will be celebrating life with a plate of nachos.

Okay, for real? I’m going to find something else to do. Something that will keep my mind off food. Ugh, dieting. Wish me luck!

I’m on my second cup of coffee, and I know I’m going to regret it later. The past week or so, ever since the scary symptoms I had a few weeks ago, I’ve been trying to monitor what I eat and drink, see what sets off alarms, and it seems that I’m getting reflux symptoms after caffeine. Still, it’s still early-ish, I’m tired, and I want to be coherent enough to write something before Jim gets up.

So, it’s been a week since the last post. In that time, I found that my work had ALL the wrong 2012 benefits listed for me (they basically had me listed has not having insurance at all for next year); I called the Employee Services people and gotten it corrected (our peeps are so nice, so that was a bonus); I got a small raise (WOOT); and I actually spent Saturday doing stuff.

This Saturday was so much busier than most Saturdays. I cannot lie: I pretty much do nothing on the weekends. Since Jim quit his job and went back to school full-time, I don’t even do laundry or shopping anymore. It was nerve-wracking at first, especially when bills were so tight, to turn shopping over to Jim. Still, I held back and told myself he had to learn how it worked.

And WOW. I’m so freakin’ proud. Jim struggled a little bit the first time, but he’s done great since. I always budget for $100 per week for groceries, which we never spend, but I rather overshoot. The last time he went groceries, he spent about $110. “Oh no,” I thought. “How could he go over budget?”

Um, no, Spring. That was $110 for two weeks worth of groceries.

Okay, I totally went on a tangent there. My point was, we had money left over to actually do stuff on Saturday.

First thing: Jim paid his dad back some of the money we owe him. I said that we actually had enough to pay his dad back completely, but Jim pointed out that we hadn’t even started Christmas shopping. There’s a good chance that we’ll be able to finish paying his dad off by January though.

Second, I had lunch with Tracy, Eva, and Darren at O’Charley’s yesterday. They’re some people I work with. We all used to sit by each other, but since then, Darren has been moved to a different unit, and Tracy and Eva were part of the lucky few to get selected to be able to work from home.

I was a little out of my element, since I’m so rarely social, but it was worth it, since I don’t get to see Tracy and Eva anymore. They’re doing great, loving being able to work from home. Yeah, if I ever get my own place around here, I’m totally going to look into doing that. But our work has very specific criteria your home has to meet before you can work from home, such as having your own office with locked drawers. (Keep in mind that we handle people’s personal information, so security is a must.) Needless to say, I have neither.

But I digress. Part of going out to lunch and catching up meant that I was caught up on office gossip. I know–it’s kinda weird that people who work from home know more about what’s going on at the office than I do. But at work, I pretty much keep my earbuds in all day and just work. I mean, that’s what I’m getting paid to do. So, no, I never know what’s going on. I got to learn all about it over a plate of nachos, who is getting divorced, who is having an affair with whom.

(I have to say, the big one that is apparently going around the office…it floored me because it involved someone that I would have never expected it from, someone I actually respected and thought was one of the nicest people in the world. Guess it goes to show that we’re all human, and even nice people occasionally will do awful things.)

Anyway, after lunch, I came home to Jim. We went to Hobby Lobby. I bought more yarn. YAY. Came home, played a little Fable 2. I’m FINALLY starting to get into it. The key? Actually learning what I was doing. Oh, I still don’t know totally what I’m doing, but I’m getting better, and it makes me enjoy the game more.

However, while I was playing the XBox, Jim started getting texts from his friend Ben, warning Jim that someone he detests has managed to weasel her way into their D&D group, despite Jim’s protests about her playing, despite the fact that she is very well aware that she’s not really wanted there. It would be one thing if Jim was the only one that dislikes her, but he isn’t. Not by a long shot. So Jim is pissed because, apparently, he’s the only one who has the backbone to tell her no (she originally tried to get into his Spelljammer game), and now he’s debating quitting the D&D game.

That bit of news put a damper on the evening. “Jim, let’s just do our own game when Matt’s is running,” I suggested.

“I want to play in a game, I don’t want to DM everthing!”

“Then teach me to DM!”

Jim just shot me a look. Even I knew that was a long shot. I get so self-conscious while playing. And I barely know how to play; DMing is a long ways off. As in, maybe in another lifetime…but certainly not this one.

Luckily, we were distracted by BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

“Are those drums?” I asked. We went to the window and looked toward the middle school. The band was out. “Hey–is today the Lights Fantastic Parade?”

It was, and we decided that was the perfect distraction for Jim’s gaming woes. We decided to walk, since it was in the 60s earlier that day. Maybe not the best idea, as the wind picked up by the time we got there. By the time we sat down, we were freezing.

The parade was…eh. What do you want? It’s not that big of a town. Also, the toddler behind me kept kicking me in the back. “Stop kicking the lady,” said the woman next to him, who, I deduced from the conversations I overheard, was his grandmother. His mom was on the other side and just ignored it completely. I gritted my teeth during the whole thing. Next year, we’ll bring chairs.

Anyway, during the parade, some girls were giving out flyers to a new restaurant called Evelyn’s on the strip. It looks like they’re just starting out–not a ton on the menu yet–and most of the menu was meat-based. I don’t think most soul food is vegetarian friendly, anyway. But while I’m no longer a vegetarian, I still don’t like a lot of meat.

(Sidenote: I don’t think I even mentioned the no-longer-a-vegetarian thing, did I? After being a vegetarian for 14 years, I’ve stopped. The reasons why I stopped is two fold: 1) we have saved money by having Jim and I eating the same meals–we simply couldn’t afford to keep doing it the way we were doing it, and Jim as not going to be a vegetarian, and 2) after the second miscarriage…well, I want to rule EVERYTHING out about why it’s happening. I know you can get enough protein being a vegetarian, but not the way I do it.)

Still, I don’t like much meat at all. Everyone acted like if I would “just eat a little bit of meat again,” it would all come flooding back and I’d be devouring every animal in sight. My cats would start to look good even, heh. But, nope. For the most part, I don’t like the taste of it. There was some meat on my nachos at my lunch with my co-workers (I immediately wished I had ordered it without), so I didn’t want any for dinner. I stuck with the mac ‘n’ cheese.

WOW. It was really good. It even rivaled my own macaroni and cheese, and I have to say–I make damn good mac ‘n’ cheese. (Two kinds, actually. The regular kind and the Tex Mex kind.) I can’t remember what Jim got, but he was shoveling it in so fast, I thought he was going to choke. “This is SO GOOD,” he said. “This is the BEST…Oh my god, we’ve got to come back.”

And we will. Providing that we can manage to keep funds up.

So, yeah, if you’re the Carbondale area, check out Evelyn’s, give ‘em your business. The service is really good, too.

Jim couldn’t eat everything, though (SO MUCH FOOD), so we walked home. By then, we were freezing because of the wind, and it started to drizzle by the time we made it back to our apartment. Jim hopped in the shower, and then he put in Carnivale, which we traded with his Aunt Donna for Justified. We watched the first two episodes of Carnivale, and I have to say, I think I’m going to like the series a lot. The cinematography is great, and it’s got…mood. I’m all over the moody stuff, heh.

Anyway, it’s after 11 now. I probably should see if Jim wants to wake up, since he doesn’t like to sleep in too late on the weekends. Not sure what we’ll be up to today. Sadly, no Walking Dead tonight–yeah, that mid-season break is kinda lame–but I guess I can just use that time to knit more dishcloths with the yarn I bought.

I started the month with three days of PTO; I’m now down none.

One day was used for Jim’s birthday. That was fine. I had planned on that.

Then last Tuesday, I started getting all the symptoms of a migraine. I refused to go home early, but I did have Jim pick me up after 8 hours rather than doing the overtime I had planned. The migraine lingered for a bit, so I ended up taking Wednesday off to recuperate.

So, there was one day left of PTO that I was hoping to cling onto, since December is just around the corner. I had wanted to keep it because you never know when a snowstorm is going to hit, and as we all know, my little car slides just at the thought of snow.

And then last night happened. Went to bed, feeling fine, around 10:30, right after Hell on Wheels. Woke up about an hour and a half later with scary symptoms: Back pain. Shallow breathing. Nausea. Heart burn with chest pain.

Yeah, that last one scared me the most.

Jim will be the first to tell you that I don’t usually have problems falling asleep. He’s actually a little bitter about it, I think, because he always has trouble sleeping. But last night, I was in so much pain, that I was shuffling around a lot, just trying to find a more comfortable sleeping position, throwing covers around because I felt hot, and Jim did a first ever in our entire relationship.

He moved to the couch.

But now he couldn’t sleep either. I had told him my symptoms. Normally, I don’t worry a whole lot about my health, but even I was getting nervous about these symptoms–especially because this isn’t the first time I’ve had them. And now he was worried as well.

I took Ibuprofen, Tums, a bath. Nothing seemed to work, although the bath did help my back. But the only thing that seems to help, as it did last time, is time.

So I ended up using that last bit of PTO, figuring there was no way I was going to make it even 8 hours in an office chair, much less my planned 12, if I couldn’t even get comfortable in my own bed, and working on an hour and a half of sleep is a bad idea. Also? If they caught wind of my symptoms, I’m afraid they’d call an ambulance, as has happened to others in the past. I can’t afford an emergency room copay right now, and even if I decided that I really need to be in the ER, I don’t want it to be the hospital they would send me to.

I’d rather stay here and go to the ER if I decide it’s necessary and go to the hospital I choose.

So I’m home, but man, what a crappy night. I feel bad because Jim missed almost all his classes, partly because he didn’t get any sleep either and partly because he was worried about leaving me alone. Even when I took a bath, he lay awake, worrying.

Also, part of the crappy night was telling Jim that while I appreciate the fact that he doesn’t seem to notice I’m overweight, and it’s very sweet that he bought me those Christmas Tree cakes because they’re my favorite…it needs to stop. Regardless of whatever’s going on with my body, I’m pretty confident these symptoms are weight-related. I need to lose weight. It’s time for me to start eating like a grown up.

Kinda sucks because he just bought me a whole box of Cap’n Crunch. Now I’m thinking maybe I should hope for snow in December. Because now without PTO, I’ll actually try going into work, get into an accident, and die. Because, really, is a life without Christmas Tree cakes and Cap’n Crunch worth living? I mean, really?

No, the title of this post has nothing to do with the book that Jim hates so much. It has to do with my freakin’ life. I’m sure everyone is sick of me complaining about money, but hell, I’m sick of  complaining about it.

It’s not that we can’t pay our bills. We can.

It’s not that our bills aren’t getting paid on time. They are.

It’s not that we can’t eat. We do.

It’s that I’m working 10+ hours overtime a week and there’s no extra. It seems like overtime should mean plenty of leftovers, and I think if I wasn’t trying to get so much extra stuff done, there would be extra. But, three days ago, I once again had to warn Jim to be careful with money. Our bank account was getting low.

I honestly don’t know how I can swing paying Jim’s dad back before Christmas and getting everyone Christmas presents. Do you know how many people we would have to buy for, just for those living in southern Illinois alone? A bazillion! I. Cannot. Afford. It. I. Cannot. Do. This. I can get bills paid and food bought, but barely. I cannot even afford to replace my holey socks after my paycheck has been divvied up.

I wish people would just let me quietly sneak past the Christmas season without celebrating it. But you know how families are.

And with working all this overtime, the other area where I feel like I’m being nickel and dimed to death is in the energy department. (Yeah, I’m stretching the metaphor a bit. But I’m tired and cranky right now, so y’all just have to deal.) I’m so tired all the time. I need to finish craft projects I have, but I’m just too worn out at the end of the day. And worse? My friend Meagan is in town, and one of the reasons we won’t be meeting is because I have to do overtime tomorrow, and I already know I’ll have no energy to be social. Being so introverted means that socializing is already an energy drain on me, no matter how much I like a person. Socializing after working 6 days a week? Not a good idea.

I found this out the hard way when I met Paul last week, after having pulled yet another long week. I might have been firing questions at him, but that was me on autopilot. I was exhausted.

Despite all this, work itself is actually going pretty well. For now, anyway. I had two nice surprises this week.

One, I found out just a couple days ago. They’re testing out how bigger monitors affect productivity. I’ve often thought a bigger monitor would be awesome because I constantly waste time moving my bazillion windows around. Well, apparently, the test run they did in another department showed that bigger monitors net better productivity–up to 20% more. My supervisor assured me that my productivity is fine, but I’ve been selected as one of the people to get to test the bigger monitors in our department.

SWEET. I’m very excited about it. We’re going to be moving desks (yet again) at work next Friday, and it’ll be waiting at my new desk.

The other cool thing, I found out about on Monday. My supervisor called me up to his desk, and I was baffled as to why. I soon found out: I got a “gift of appreciation” (which was a Visa gift card) and a certificate. My boss said it was being given to me for several reasons. One, they feel that when they handed me one of the special projects I’m on, I really took ownership of it. I’ve notified them of several issues and updates that even the higher-ups weren’t aware of. We’ve had a couple of workflow updates based on information I’ve given them. And here I was worried about being a pest!

The second thing my supervisor told me was that they were aware that I get flipped to work different books of business a lot–but I “never complain and always do a good job of it.”

Awesome! Usually, never complaining gets me mostly ignored. It never has gotten me a gift card. I was excited about the gift card, but I didn’t really know what to do with it. I was thinking of getting an oil change.

Yes, my life has gotten that lame.

So I was thinking of what on earth to do with the gift card when Jim and I came home to a note on our door. The letter was regarding our cable/ISP. Our building is switching to Mediacom.

Okay.

They’ve given us a listing of channels that will come with Mediacom. No HBO. Which means…no Game of Thrones in the spring. If we want it, we’ll have to order it.

Jim started to get mad. But there was more.

With the switch to Mediacom, that means we will no longer have our current ISP, Goldentree. Although I guess their name is Guestek now..? That’s what it said in the letter. But getting back to the point, currently, I don’t have a monthly payment. I think it’s included in the rent, which, I will have you know, is crazy-high, but I always justify it because utilities are included. Anyway, the letter advised that we would need to make arrangements with our Internet provider because Guestek would no longer be available. So we’ll have to switch to Mediacom–and welcome yet a new monthly bill that I hadn’t expected.

Jim flipped out. “You’ve got to be kidding me? So after all this–TV with less channels and now getting a bill for our Internet–we’re basically paying more for less?”

“Sounds like.” I handed him the gift card. “Here. Go buy a game.”  Not like I was going to do anything fun with it anyway. Fun? Who has time for that?

“You sure?” he asked.

I nodded. If I work just one more hour of overtime–maybe two–it should get me the oil change.

Yup. Nickel and dimed and overtimed.

And now I’m going to bed. Because, so far, nobody’s figured out a way to charge me for that.

How my co-workers learned that you should never suddenly switch topics on me at 7:30 in the morning:

Angela: Did you see the new Phantom of the Opera or the old one?

Me: New one, I think. And I was reading these Amazon reviews, and you know what? I don’t get these girls who think the Phantom is romantic! He’s a creepy guy in the basement who’s a control-freak. The moment that girl starts getting interested in someone, he kidnaps her! He doesn’t give her a choice about anything. These girls obviously have never been with a control-freak. There’s nothing romantic about it.

Steve: Well, you know, he didn’t really live in a basement, it was more like a dungeon…

Me: See? A REALLY COOL BASEMENT. What’s he whining about? It’s nicer than my apartment.

Heather: Have you read the book? The Phantom is actually an old guy, so it’s even more gross.

Steve (suddenly standing over the cubicle wall with a box of candy): Hey, want some sugar? Have some sugar. I’ll be your sugar daddy! Have some sugar!

Me (startled by the sudden change of subject): Huh? Where’d you get all the candy?

Steve: It’s my birthday this weekend.

Me: Nice. No, thank you.

Steve (pretending to be offended): Well, FINE, then.

Me: What? Do you WANT me to eat your sugar?

Angela (laughing): OH, MY GOD, Spring, you didn’t just say that!

Steve: I don’t know, Spring, do you WANT me to be your Phantom?

Me: No…no, that’s okay…thanks…

Sadly, I was so tired this morning, it took a couple of minutes of Angela and Steve laughing at me for me to realize what I had said.

I’m pretty sure I was red for most of the day.

That’s all I can tell myself today: DON’T PANIC. I tell that to myself between nail-biting and panic attacks, though. So, sorry Hitchhiker’s Guide, but it’s obviously not doing me any good.

If you haven’t been following, I’ve been slammed with a lot of bills this month. I also found that I have waaaaaay less money in my account than I thought I would have after bills. I frantically texted Jim this morning, telling him to not use the debit card for anything like, God forbid, food. Because more than likely, we didn’t have enough money to cover it.

Apparently, all the eating out we did last week due to having a broken fridge has taken its toll.

But, thankfully, we have a lovely thing called a savings account. Money shuffled around, problem solved. Well, not exactly, but we can get by. And I get paid the day after tomorrow. There will probably be more shuffling around with bills, but hey, at least there is no shortage of overtime at work. At least not lately.

Work has been another ball of stress. Recently, they’ve put almost all the written staff on the phones because phones have been so crazy. When you go from never having to take calls to taking calls almost 8 hours a day, that can really mess you up.

So far–knock on wood–I haven’t been one of the people put on the phones. It turns out one of those “special projects” that I’m on has gotten so, um, ”special” that the VP has taken notice, and now those of us who work on that project are considered “resources that cannot be tied up on the hotline.” I believe that’s how my supervisor put it, anyway. I’m relieved, but just hearing my co-workers having to take calls on the hotline all day stresses me out, so I just put in my earbuds and crank up the volume on my MP3 player. I don’t know how I used to do it 40 hours a week less than a year ago.

Also, because I like my co-workers, I wish they didn’t have to be on the phones either. Luckily, they’ve been having to spend less and less time on the phones lately, so that’s good. Especially because, with them on the hotline, written work is piling up, and now we’re getting behind in the written area. But hey! That means more overtime for me. Woot, woot.

Okay, so, wow! That was boring! Sadly, work and bills are pretty much the only things on my mind lately. Oh, and the 10 pounds I’ve gained since the miscarriage. That’s what happens when you resume drinking soda.

Speaking of the miscarriage, I had labs done yesterday and saw the doctor today, and I still have pregnancy hormones in my system. When I groused about this later, Jim said, “I’m not surprised.” Which is just him being a jerk, claiming that I’m picking on him more because there are leftover hormones from the pregnancy. Whatever. Suck it up, buttercup.

At any rate, the hormones, while there, are at least now down to a very low level. As in 8. But I still have to come in for a follow-up visit to check them again. SIGH.

This visit, though, she verified that I wanted to go back on the Pill. Jim and I said yes. We decided that now would not be a good time to get knocked up again because 1) it’s so soon after the last pregnancy, and 2) Jim is on Chantix, and we have no idea how that will affect anything. But then came an interesting moment when she asked how long I wanted to be on the Pill for. The question behind the question was How long do you want to wait before you try again?

It’s a hard thing to decide, being put on the spot like that. She had pen in hand, poised for writing the script. No chance to collogue with my husband. So I opted for three months. We will be back at the end of November to decide what we’re doing next.

Afterwards, Jim was like, “So…you really want until December before trying again?” He sounded disappointed.

I explained that I’m a little gun-shy about getting pregnant again. I’ve been pregnant twice in a span of a little over six months. I’ve had two miscarriages. Neither is fun. Also, both are exhausting. And with the financial crunch that we’re in right now, I cannot afford to be sleeping all the time.

And just…well, like I said…I’m gun-shy, okay? This has been a really rough year. I’m afraid of having another miscarriage, afraid that I’m just setting myself up for more doctor visits to find out what’s wrong, and I just don’t have any more in me to deal with it. Mostly, I just want work a lot, pay off bills, save lots of money, and build up for next year. Because I’ve got a plan! Next year, there will be money in that savings account, a trip in the works, and plans to move into a bigger, nicer place.

So, DON’T PANIC. Because next year is gonna be awesome.

I am beyond stressed. Getting s’mores at work today didn’t even help.

Oh, yeah, we TOTALLY got s’mores. My job can be so awesome sometimes.

But still. Stress! There’s the recent stuff, of course, that I’ve dwelt on enough and don’t feel like dwelling on anymore.  Unfortunately, the doctors keep me dwelling on stuff by having me come into the office to check to make sure those pregnancy hormones are going down after the miscarriage. Initially, my levels were something like 1400, and by Monday, they dropped to 400. Weirdly enough, if I took a pregnancy test right now, it would probably still come up positive.

Yeah. Weird. But since the levels are still not around the 0 mark, I’ve got to come back in a couple of weeks to get blood drawn again.

Anyway, leaving early the last two days = make up time today, which is just time over that is straight pay and not overtime pay. I HATE THAT. I like my overtime money. I like it a lot.

But back to stress. Today was  just a bad day at work, s’mores be damned. I learned a new workflow that I thought would net me more closures, but then they turned around and said we couldn’t use it. The tech who told me was so bummed about it, she needed one of my Jolly Ranchers to cheer her up, heh. Apparently, the s’mores didn’t cut it for her, either.

And then Jim kept texting me because he was freaking out. He was trying to get signed up for fall classes and found out that he’s not eligible for financial aid this year. I’m not surprised; I warned him that once we got married and they figured in my income, he probably wouldn’t be eligible because I “make too much money.” HAHAHA. Anyway, that wasn’t shocking, but they turned around and told him they “wouldn’t do” government loans either. Huh? What the hell?

Oh, and by the way, they told him, the money is due tomorrow.

I was pretty pissed about this. When Jim submitted everything, the e-mail he got said that the financial aid office was supposed to get ahold of him if they needed anything else. They did need other stuff. They did not get ahold of him. And they were only now telling him this because he went down there to ask them about it, and they were telling him the day before the due date. And it was looking like he wasn’t going to be able to go to school for the fall.

So, Jim was freaking out. I tried to reassure him by telling him that he could just dedicate himself to writing until the spring semester. He kept texting me, though, and it was freaking me out because I know that Jim hates that he’s not working, and the only thing that has been keeping him sane was knowing he’d be in school full time soon, and that going to school does, in fact, contribute to our household’s future. I worried another six months of no work and no school would drive him into depression.

But then he told me that his dad paid for it. His dad is telling him that we’ll only owe him half the money, since he helped pay Jim’s siblings’ college.

But…new stress. I hate borrowing money. This is especially how I did not want to start my marriage–borrowing money from my father-in-law. So now I feel compelled to pull even more overtime to get that paid off ASAP. Jim tells me not to kill myself over it, but…I don’t know…Jim’s mine to take care of now, ya know?  MINE.

And then there’ s stress that comes with the fact that Jim and I are fighting more than usual. Even though I know it’s been totally the clash between the pregnancy hormones and the Chantix, it still sucks. Luckily, Jim will be done with the Chantix in about a month, so that should help a lot. And, of course, my pregnancy hormones are dropping. I should be back to “sane” level fairly soon.

But I had to admit something else entirely that had been bugging me for a while to Jim last night. Jim has one big hobby, one thing he loves that keeps him going these days: Warhammer 40K.

And I hate Warhammer 40K.

There. I admit it. And I do. I’m not even sure why. I’ve tried to like it. I listen to Jim talk about his games. I listen to strategies. I look at how he’s painting his little army guys and how he’s adding modifications to them. They’re very cool.

But I hate them. I hate Jim’s little army guys. I think they’re boring. I think they’re cocky-looking little assholes that are overpriced and suck up too much of Jim’s time and energy. I hate hearing about the guys that Jim plays with. Some of them are complete dicks, and about what? Because they have no legitimate lives, so they can dedicate themselves to the stupidest hobby on the planet?

Ugh.

Jim is a good husband–a little too good at times–and immediately offered to quit playing. Which, of course, is dumb. Why do guys tell you they want you to talk about how you feel about something, and when you do, they automatically go into “fix-it” mode? Do that, and I won’t say anything again! Just because I hate Warhammer doesn’t mean that Jim should quit his favorite hobby. That’s dumb. It’s just how I feel about it; it doesn’t mean it’s right or logical or anything.

Really, where it’s getting to me is that I’ve been trying to fit in my overtime around this gaming schedule, and I’m getting resentful of it. When I have to pull a couple of insanely long days just to make sure I get off work as early as possible on other days for these stupid little army guys that I don’t even think are interesting, I get a little annoyed.

So I think Jim and I have agreed that I’m not going to try to “fit in” my overtime around the gaming anymore. The overtime comes first. We’ve  got bills to pay. Still, I’ll try not to pull the nearly 11 hour days on his gaming days. I’m not a complete asshole. But Jim’s going to the comic book store an hour later than he usually would have isn’t gonna kill him, either.

Here’s hoping that’s the case, anyway.

One day I’m gonna write a happy post again. I really am.

Damn, I’m tired. Loved my three-day weekend last weekend. Didn’t get so lucky this weekend. I pulled overtime all week and I just did overtime today, on a Saturday, from 6-11 AM. The only good thing about working on Saturdays, though, is that at least you know you’re not going to be put on the phones.

Oh, yeah. I was put on the phones two days in a row this week. That’s never fun, but it wasn’t too bad, either. My concern is that I’m supposed to be working a special project (the portal) that I’ve been told has high-high-high priority, and then I’m also only one of two people allowed to contact an outside vendor, which is only done two times a week, and which also has high-high priority, but if I’m stuck helping the phone people out, this high priority stuff starts getting really behind.

And the special project is already behind. So Friday, I waved my supervisor down and said, “Okay, I need to know which of my prorities is REALLY the priority. Portal? Phones?” I told him that sure, I don’t like doing the phones, but if they want me to do that, that’s fine–but I’m worried about other stuff getting even further behind. Luckily, he agrees with me, and they’ve already had meetings to see about getting those of us working this special project from getting stuck on phones.

That’d be nice. Until then…I just do what they tell me, heh.

Wow, that’s the most I’ve talked about work in a while. Let’s stop now.

Anyway, I’m tired. Tired enough that I snapped at Jim last night, in front of Phil, both of whom seemed surprised by it. (As Phil put it, “That’s the most heated discussion that I’ve ever seen you two have.” And it really wasn’t that bad.) Still, I felt bad about snapping at Jim, but sometimes….JIM. ARGH. We’ll just leave it at that.

Maybe I just need some time alone. Maybe I’ll suggest that to Jim because I got really bummed last night (WHY? WHY? MY LIFE IS AWESOME) and I’m still kinda moody today, so I think that’s all it is–time for some Spring Break, haha. Whatever it is, I’m gonna have to figure it out soon. Everything’s been pissing me off.

Maybe I just need a nap. Works for Gremlin.

Jim and Gremlin, playing the XBox

Of course, Gremlin makes sure that he has a high-quality person to snuggle with first. Maybe that’s the key.

Well, I haven’t posted much in the last week, but there’s a lot going on. I did not have to get on the phone Monday at work, as I had wondered about in the last post. Nobody did, as far as I could tell. Instead, I’ve been working the portal at work all week, and I think I’m getting the hang of it. At first, it started off rocky, with very low production, but then, once I started getting responses back that I could actually work, my productivity skyrocketed.

Jim also found a desk next to the dumpster this week, perfectly fine, nothing wrong with it, and we really needed a desk. So he hauled the thing up himself. So, YAY, I don’t have my laptop on the floor next to the sofa anymore, and the cable cord is no longer right in the middle of the living room floor where everyone walks. Now it’s more off to the side where people rarely walk. I’m very happy with this, although now we’re going to need a proper chair. Right now, I’m sitting in the rocking chair, and while I love rocking chairs, they’re not so good when paired up with office desks.

But the real event of this week was that my sister, Jennifer, left with her kids, Damian, Trinity, and Seth, to move to North Dakota, where her husband is.

I cannot deny it: I’m bummed. Jennifer is the sister I’m closest to, and I LOVE her kids. I even lived with them fairly recently after my divorce, when Nate (her husband) was then living in Texas for a different job that he had. It was a good set-up because I got free room and board and she got a free 24/7 babysitter. Honestly, I only moved out because when her husband came back, it was just too crowded. I probably would have stayed there even if she didn’t need a babysitter , and I would have just paid her rent. (Which I did when he did come back and she didn’t need a sitter anymore. I’m not a mooch.) But my point is that Jennifer and I get along well.

Anyway, I texted her Wednesday night, remembering that she was supposed to be leaving Thursday. I didn’t think I’d get a chance to see them again, but as it turns out, Thursday, she called and asked me to stop by because her ISP won’t turn off their internet service until she returns a modem to them.

Aside: The ISP is Mediacom, and she confessed to me that she didn’t think they ever gave her a modem in the first place. The modems she had were her own. She came to Illinois not needing one because she already had one from California. I mention this because Mediacom did the same thing to me and my ex-husband. We turned down getting a modem for them because we were computer people and wanted to choose our own. So we bought one. Then I accidentally plugged it in the wrong place, fried it, and we had to get another modem the same day, and we were pissed about having to buy two. When he and I split up, he ran up bills in my name, including Mediacom. Mediacom tried to claim we owed them money for a modem, and through ALL the fighting he and I were having, that was ONE thing we agreed on: NO, Mediacom, YOU NEVER GAVE US A MODEM.

I still don’t know how/if my ex resolved that one, but per the divorce decree, all that stuff is his responsibility, so I don’t really care. I just want to mention that if you have to have Mediacom, you might as well get a modem from them because they’re gonna claim that they gave you one, anyway.

But I digress. Jennifer decided to just give them one of her old modems she wasn’t using, but she needed me to take it because they were closed, and she needed to get moving. So Jim and I drove the 40 minutes out to her house and visited with them briefly before getting the modem. The visit HAD to be brief, as she was trying to get out that day, she had no furniture left as the movers had already taken it, and the power had already been shut off. She was doing all her cleaning by candlelight.

So we say goodbye. We’re sad. Yes, even Jim is a little sad because although he didn’t know Jen’s kids very well, he did like them (no small feat, considering he doesn’t really like kids that much) and he was actually excited about being an uncle.

But I’m particularly crabby about it, and when we get home, we putz around a little bit, then we try to go to bed early. Jim hasn’t been feeling well this week, anyway. And it’s about a quarter ’til 11 when my phone rings.

I pick up. It’s my sister. Wasn’t she supposed to be on the road? “Spring,” she says worriedly, “I’m driving along here, and I realized–I don’t think I ever put out those candles.”

So I get up, get dressed. Jim starts to get up, and I tell him he doesn’t have to come. He insists. There could be looters, he says. I have to laugh at his paranoia, but he comes with me because he doesn’t like the idea of me going out there and traipsing around in the dark alone. So we drive 40 minutes out there again, and guess what? She DID forget to blow out the candles! They were still going on in the basement. OH MY GOD. Good thing she remembered and called me! Good thing she still had a relative in the town that she was leaving, and good thing I still had a key to her house!

We check out the house to make sure she didn’t miss any others. She hadn’t. We marveled over the owl that had been making creepy screeching noises when we first came in (I just looked up owl sounds; I think it was a barn owl), then drove home. We didn’t get home until midnight.

And we proceeded to be cranky until the next day, particularly due to lack of sleep. And it’s not going to get any better if I don’t replace this chair, stat. Like I said, rocking chairs and office desks don’t mix. Especially when paired with a bummed Aunt Dingy.