St. Jude Carol of the Bells

0048.

I know I sound like I'm whining when I say this, but it hurts my feelings when my study group leaves me out of the loop. Maybe I leave myself out because I don't drink and they tend to go out all the time but I can still go out with them and have a good time without drinking. In fact, I have MORE fun because I don't drink because I don't fall down and hurt myself AND I get to remember everything that happened! But because I don't drink or act like a 19 year old (despite being a 31 year old mother of 2), I'm blatantly left out of everything. I shouldn't let it bother me. Most of the time it annoys M's when they're a ting like children, but they are still fun to be around... I know, I
Whining and contradicting myself. I hate it when people don't like me. I'm not a horrible, evil person. I might come across as abrasi e sometimes, but I'm really not. I'm what people call "short" with people because I don't have time to deal with things like stupidity and childishness (to name a few things). Even though I'm a Southerner, I've been told I have a Yankee mentality and that turns people off. Funny thing is, when you're my friend, I'll love you forever, have a ton of patience (within limits), and bend myself in a pretzel to help you out. Earn my trust, love, and loyalty, and you're set for life.

I was really hoping I would bond with the people in my class and form these amazing friendships for life sort of like I have with MamaChelle and Nerf... But I guess nothing will ever compare to them because any friendship I've formed since them has paled in comparison. PALED. And these girls.... Sigh.... It's like I'm hanging out with the girls from high school all over again. We just happen to be chronologically older and have children.

0047. Really? Again?

I was in lab today, positioning a "patient" for an xray and I was slightly off. I was only off by a few degrees on the angle, and the instructor was really heavy with her praise, but I took it hard anyway. In fact, I burst into tears.

It's stupid, I know. I had no reason to cry. I'm not doing horribly in positioning class. I'm too hard on myself and I'm stressing out so bad over all of this (school, money, the house, Tessa, Monkey's behavior problems, my sleep problems...) that it really was only a matter of time before I cracked. I tend to bottle things up for so long that I end up exploding after a while. Today just happened to be that day.

Monkey got in trouble again today. And yesterday. Yesterday, she "pushed a friend/name calling" and "poked a student with a sharp pencil". Today, she was "playing on the mat during math time". I'm not sure what to do anymore. She hasn't gotten in trouble for pushing, name calling, or poking with sharp pencils before, but she's gotten in trouble for playing during learning time more than once. She's been grounded, had her dress-up clothes taken away, had her butt popped... What else do I do to make her listen? I can't have her being bad every day.

I pulled out the same speech my mom gave me. "You're not there to make friends. You'll use what you learn in school every day of your life. You have to pay attention in school. You don't play during school except during recess." (I of course immediately called my mom after this and apologized for rolling my eyes at her all through school when she said this to me) Monkey told me she understood, but she always says she understands, then goes right back to school and gets in trouble.

Thing is... She was on "green" today. They're on a stop light system: red light-office, yellow light-warning, green light-good. But she had a substitute teacher today, and she said the teacher just forgot to change her color clip. M actually ratted herself out by telling me that. When I picked her up from daycare, she told me she was on green, I wasn't going to check her binder. I rarely do when she's on "green" since there's usually nothing in there for me to check. But then she went on to tell me that the teacher forgot to change her clip. Oops. Now she's cooped up in her room, not allowed to watch TV (from yesterday), not allowed to play with her Barbies (from today), and waiting for her spanking.

I can't wait for the 27th. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist. I'm thinking that I need to up my dosage again, because this shit ain't fucking working.

0046. It's just one of them days (don't take it personal)

It's just one of them days when I wanna be alone. It's just one of them days when I gotta be all alone. (Don't take it personal)


Today sucked. Last week sucked. The week before sucked. The week before that sucked. It seems like it's been one long month of nothing but suck lately and there seems to be nothing I can do about it. it's not that I have a defeatist attitude. Things have just been beyond my control lately to the point that I feel like I'm drowning in shit right now. I'm tired and I feel so run down that I don't know if I can pull myself out of this hole...

And this isn't a good thing, considering how I'm only 3 weeks into my semester and it's only going to get worse - not to mention the fact that my other jobs (mommy/wife/and everything that comes along with those positions) never end. Ever. And what a massive amount of stress that adds!

There wasn't any one thing that was so awful that made me want to tear my hair out today, but I guess it was just everything accumulating over time and people being shitty to me (in subtle ways) and my being overly sensitive because I'm both Bipolar and a stupid Girl that I just want to sit in a corner and cry. A lot. But that would give me a headache and then I'd get pissed off because of the headache, which would make me cry more... It's a cycle and it sucks.

045.

0044. today I don't feel like doing anything.

iTunes: The Lazy Song - Bruno Mars

Mood: Tired

0043. how does it feel to be wrong fucking stupid for so long

So, I'm sure he meant this as a breakup song based on some of the lyrics, but as for the rest of the song? Totally fits today.

It was my last at work and the last day of the short summer semester, and it couldn't fucking come soon enough for my taste. I've been super stressed out lately (um, duh) and most of it has come from... you guessed it - work and school. Mostly school because this Algebra class has seriously KICKED MY ASS for some reason. Probably because I suck at math anyway and the teacher is a moron, but I digress. I'll retake the class, pass it, and pull my GPA back up where it's supposed to be.

Once I let go of the all the stress I was putting on myself with trying to pass the class, I was doing fine. I hated my job, but I was working in the back with BossLady and my new friend M and we got along great... until the night of the Jewelry Party. BossLady's 16 year old daughter let my 5 year old watch a zombie movie in the kid's room and of course I was NOT OK with that. I said something to the 16 year old, and BossLady was not okay with that (I'm condensing the story in case I've already told it).

Ever since then, BossLady will only speak to me if it's work-related, she gives me the cold shoulder, and I found out today that she gave the other work studies time off (WITH PAY) so that I would have to work out in the front so that I wouldn't have to be in the office alone with her while M was in class. I'm sorry, but how freaking childish is that??? I know I've mentioned before that BossLady likes to gossip and stuff, but I figured that was just her trying to stay on our level since she's so much older than us. Nope. She really is that immature. She asked M "How could you be friends with her" referring to me when M was texting me before I came into work the other day.

When I woke up this morning, I dreaded going to work. Seriously. My stomach hurt so bad that I could barely eat anything, and I have to eat or I can't take my meds. I ended up not taking them because I couldn't get anything down - I was too afraid I'd end up throwing it all back up. And even though I'm hugely relieved not to have to go back unless I have student-related stuff... but I'm also worried because she's the ONLY person there who certifies my attendance for the VA. If I don't get certified, I don't get paid. And with her attitude of late, I have to wonder if she will mess with my paperwork for next fall. She knows that I depend on my GI Bill money to survive financially. I'd hope that she wouldn't take food out of my child's mouth, but at this point I wouldn't put anything past her.

I'm going to have to put this blog on private for a while, I think. Or maybe just this post.

I'm so tired and so frustrated. I want to go to PK and cry, but if I told him about all this mess, he'd either tell me to suck it up (since he has to deal with multiple assholes like BL at his job on a daily basis) or he'd go punch the bitch in the face for making me cry and possibly threatening his family's financial stability. Probably option #2, since you don't fuck with his baby girl. Since I don't want him to go punch her in the face and ensure that she never certifies me again, I want to go lay my head in my mommy's lap and cry. Except oh wait, I can't do that either. She's on vacation in Florida and I have to go take care of her animals and water her plants (already did that today - I'm a good daughter). GODDAMNIT WHY DO I HAVE TO BE A HERMIT???

0042. tearing my hair out

iTunes: "Get the Party Started" - Pink (BossLady's music)
Mood: stupid

Algebra test next Monday and I'm not prepared. I got a 28 on my last test. Yes, you read that right. A 28. I've never made a 28 before. Ever. In fact, the lowest grade I've made before now is a 68.

Math has never been my strongest suit, but I can't help but feeling like I'm stupid. I know that I'm not, but I still can't help feeling like I am. I'm studying with my dad as often as I can, staying up entirely too late and paying the price for it by falling asleep during the day and becoming an emotional crying/screaming mess when I'm supposed to be at work or in class.

It's not pretty. I've found myself apologizing more often than not to my co-workers when I start babbling or sobbing over something completely trivial. BossLady asked me this morning how my day was going so far and I burst into tears.

"Apparently not well."

Nope, not at all. My next test is Monday, it's only Tuesday, but I'm already convinced that I'm not going to do well. And even though I know having this defeatist attitude will do me no good, I can't help but have it. I don't understand anything about the f(x), the g(x) or what the fuck one has to do with the other. I'm praying that my stepdad has both the time and the patience to teach me both because at this point, I'm going to fail hard if I don't figure something out, and I don't want to retake this class. I've never had to retake a class and I'm not about to start now!

I've got 2 weeks of class left and 3 tests (including the final) remaining. I will get this done.

0041. no really, we have an answer.

Dear MAMAKITTY,

You have been selected as an alternate to the Medical Radiography Program
at San Jacinto College Central Campus. You are one of several alternate
candidates for enrollment in the fall semester of 2011.

If one of the primary candidates fails to attend orientation or does
not accept their selection, an alternate candidate will be chosen. You will be
contacted and given first right of refusal for admittance if selected.

If you will not enroll if accepted for the fall semester, please advise
us so that we can provide an opportunity to another qualified candidate.

What does this mean for me? Well for one, it means I'm living on my disability income, which is fairly small. PK makes good money, but not good enough to support both of us. This means unless I get that alternate spot (which isn't likely from what I've heard), I have to get a good paying job. I'm going to apply to about a million spots on hiremymom.com tomorrow AND I'm going to start applying to IRL jobs as soon as we get back from Italy.

I'm also going to start another account and I'm going to put money away, but I'm probably not going to be able to save a whole helluva lot of money in a month and a half. I might just have to dip into the Italy fund. I think my living fund would be more important, don't you?

Sigh. This sucks.

0040. the results are in. maybe.

iTunes: None
Mood: Crushed

Got an email from the Medical Imaging program director. It says:

Letters are being sent as we speak.
FYI. The minimum acceptance numbers are
as follows:
GPA 3.55
SAT 1130
ACT 25

My GPA is 3.53, which is what I applied with. I've never taken the SATs. If I had applied with my ACT score, it's 24. Any way you look at it, I'm fucked.

When I ran into one of the counselors in the hallway, he noticed that I was crying and I told him what the email said. He said that the information he saw said they were accepting 3.5 flat, and he'd check to see if they'd sent out the roster yet. He'll drop by later and let me know. I leave in 30 minutes, so if he doesn't I'll have to stop by his office. I'm not holding out much hope.

What a shitty day. Shitty, shitty day.

0039.

iTunes: None. I'm at work.
Mood: Lost/Confused


I'm... lost. Confused. Something. I don't know anymore. I want to work, I do. I hate being bored. But I don't know what I want to do with my life. I like being an administrative assistant, but that's such a difficult field to work in these days because of the economy and it's vast suckage. I far prefer blogging and social networking (which I know you can make money from at home - but I don't know how to break into that world... I'm looking into it via hiremymom.com).

I like school, but at the same time I'M SO TIRED OF IT. And if I get into this program, I've got 2 more freaking years of it. I know 2 years isn't a long time, but it's 2 more years. At least if I get into the program I won't be able to work anymore.

Shit, maybe I should quit anyway. I'm stressed out and I want to rip every bit of my hair out. Do you know that I actually dream of going for a run, and I hate running? But I know that working out is a MAJOR source of stress relief, so I dream about running.


The Medical Imaging program director said that if I haven't received an email stating if I have or haven't made it into the program, to either call or email. Well, I called this morning and they have a recording up with something saying if you have questions about MRI, Sonography, or Mammography, call these extensions (I'm applying for X-ray/Radiography). So, of course, I had to email. This means I have to wait longer. Smart, grasshopers. very smart.


This also means I have more time to ponder... Do I really want to do the X-Ray program? Do I really want to do 2 more years of school when I've already done enough classes (85 credit hours... I'm a freaking Junior!) to have a degree in General Studies? I'm so freaking sick of school I could vomit (probably literally).


I know I'm only 28, but I want to stay at home and be with the kid(s)... and God help me, I want to have more. I want to have another baby with PK. I don't think I can do that if I go back to work. Then again, we can't afford to have another kid if I'm not working, so it's kind of a vicious cycle there isn't it?


I don't know what to do!!! Why can't God just put a flashing neon sign in front of me. "HEY MAMAKITTY! This is what you're supposed to do with you're life. And guess what! You're going to LOVE IT!!!"

0038. don't you forget

iTunes: "It's my life" - No Doubt
mood: almost defeated

I have a test on Thursday in Algebra and I have almost no idea what we're doing. Today, I had my first breakthrough. I'm hoping that when I go to tutoring later I'll be able to remember what the fuck we did. I'm hoping even more than when I sit down with my dad I'll be able to remember what the fuck's going on.

I'm so tired that I can barely remember my name at this point. I'm not sleeping well, and even coffee can barely keep me awake. Even when I go to sleep at a decent hour, I don't sleep through the night. I'm going to take my doc's advice and pick up either some Tylenol PM or some Benadryl, which is apparently the same thing, but Tylenol PM has Tylenol in it (which I need for the constant pain I'm in).

I've also been rethinking my career goals. I don't want to be a nurse, and haven't wanted to be one for a while. I love blogging, but don't always have anything interesting to say, which is a big reason why I don't blog here consistently. I don't think y'all want to hear me whining about how much pain I'm always in, how much I hate my job, or always talking about the funny thing Monkey did or said all the time (ok that last one is probably ok - I have a really cute kid). But when I don't get a lot of comments (especially over on MKR, and especially when I'm actively going to other blogs and commenting on theirs, I tend to get a little butthurt and I want to give up).

So, what do I want to do with the rest of my life? The truth is, I don't really know. When I was an administrative assistant, I was really freaking good at it. Sure, there were times I'd get bored and read at work or twitter (when they allowed it - sometimes they blocked the site, the bastards), but sor the most part, I was fucking GREAT at my job.

So the question is... do I go back to that world if the medical jobs and the work-at-home jobs don't pan out? More than likely. I can't live off of disability, as much as I'd like to. I'd love to stay at home, take care of the house work and be a stay at home mom. I'd make Donna Reed look like a trashy trailer house mom (I say that being someone who grew up in a trailer -- granted, my mom always kept a beautiful home and we would bleach everything, literally, once a week, but I digress).

I feel so lost and I hate this! I just want to know what to do with my life. And I want to stop being so fucking tired and in pain all the time.

0036. you're amazing just the way you are

Monkey and I spent the weekend with my Aunt G and Uncle M. Twin and I grew up spending weekends with them, so being at their house brought back a lot of memories (even though it's not the house they lived in while Twin and I were growing up... they just had a new place built, and it's absolutely gorgeous). We swam in the pool, hung out by the water, ate dinner together, and watched tv until we passed out. What's unusual is that I was the one who woke up early. Normally, I sleep until Aunt G literally drags me out of bed. But for some reason, I was up at 5:30. Probably because I've been waking up for school. That, and I wasn't sleeping next to my husband, who had band practice and had to stay home for the weekend.

Yes, I'm one of Those Women. I'm so accustomed to sleeping next to her man that I find it difficult to sleep without him. Also, sleeping next to my daughter, who routinely tosses, turns, and kicks me in the back is kind of difficult. LOL.

Anyway. While Aunt G and I were watching Sunday Morning, there was a section on Blogging and we got to talking about MKR. I mentioned how I wished that I could devote more time to it. I love reading, I love blogging, and I know that I can make money blogging, but I don't have the time to do it right now because I have to be able to make money in the mean time until the blog takes off.

She mentioned that she has a friend in her neighborhood who runs a website where moms can work from home. I've heard of schemes like that before so I kind of went "yeah right" and humored her... until she actually showed me the site. She's been featured on the local news here, but she's also been featured in nationally syndicated magazines. I haven't called or written to the lady yet (it's still Sunday as I'm writing this) but I plan to do so after I get off work tomorrow. Why? Because I desperately want to quit my job.

It's not that I'm not grateful to BossLady for helping me out when I was in a bind. I am. But I can't deal with whiny ass brats or idiots all the time right now. I think working from home might be just what I need until I can get through school and get my meds straight (just had them adjusted again).

0035. and it begins again

Summer classes began on Monday. I'm only taking two this time around, so you'd figure less stress. Well, you're partially right. I'm taking Intro to Computers, which is gonna be an incredibly easy class because it's... An introduction to computers. You literally learn all the parts of the computer, what they do, about the Internet, etc. It actually asked ms what a blog is. I shit you not. I'm totally gonna ace that class.

But.

I'm also taking algebra. And I suck at math. I took Tech Math last summer and got a B, so I don't actually need this class bin taking it because I need a class for my GI Bill (my source of income), I have to be in school in order to be a work-study, and I'll need College Algebra for my Bachelor's, so I figured "Why not?" I guess I should've said "No!" and stayed away instead. Or maybe picked another teacher. The one I chose was the one I had for Tech, and I'm pretty sure the only reason I passed Tech was because my dad stayed up til midnight almost every night tutoring me.

Anyway. I had a pretty severe panic attack at work the other day. I've been stressed out and not sleeping very well. My class starts at 7:30, and in order to get Monkey to my mom's in time to get to class on time, I have to wake up at 5:30 so we can walk out the door between 6:40-6:50. I don't normally go to bed til about 11 and I tend to wake up several times a night. Definitely not enough sleep. I walk around like a fucking zombie because I'm always *so* tired.

My psychiatrist recommended that I quit work last semester because I was under so much stress. She was probably right, I probably should have and probably still should, but I can't afford to do that while I'm trying to save up for Italy. Or, y'know, trying to save money, period. We might be comfortable, but we're not exactly rolling in it.

Still, it'd be so nice not to have to worry about going to work. I could just worry about school and the house... Focus more on things I actually want to do (like read and my blog - which I've kind of dropped lately since the people who've volunteered to help me haven't bothered and I feel like I'm fucking drowning with everything else going on in my life) and I'd love it. At least I think I'd love it. Grass is greener, and all that.

0034. Happy Birthday to Me (and Twin!)

Yup, it's my birthday. Twin and I turned the big 2-8 this morning at 0:dark:30. I used to know the exact time I was born, but it's so unGodly early that I've let it slip my mind. Seriously. I don't wake up that early for anyone... except my mom, I guess. :)

I'm not that into cake, funnily enough, but I am into cupcakes. Weird, I know. If I do have cake, I want the whipped icing you get from Kroger or Target (although Target's frosting is way better AND you can get it flavored with strawberry! omnomnomnom), and of course, both the cup/cake and frosting have to be chocolate. (Fresh) Strawberry topping is entirely optional, of course.

I don't think I'll be getting a cake or cupcakes this year, which kind of bums be out, if I'm being honest (and I promised I would be totally honest on this blog... which is partly why I haven't been posting lately. That, and I simply haven't had time with all the things I have to say). Birthdays aren't ususally a big deal for people after 21, but I've always loved them. I love the parties, I love decorating the cakes (I've made a cake for Monkey every year so far and decorated it like her favorite character at the time), I love the celebration, and since I'm being honest, I love that it's all about me. Well, about me and Twin, but he's in Georgia right now, so it's mostly about me. LOL. I can't help it.

I don't get a lot of days that are all about me anymore, and as shy as I am I like being the center of attention (among friends and family - strangers weird me out, so please go away). Does that make me selfish? Probably. Does that make me human? Absolutely. Who doesn't like being praised and showered with love and attention (and gifts - don't lie and say you don't like them).

I think when I get home tonight, Monkey and I are going to whip up a batch of cupcakes. Maybe cookies. I don't think I have any cake mix at home, and I'm not sure if I have all the ingredients to make cupcakes from scratch.

Happy birthday to me.

0033. grown children

I'm taking Spanish this semester even though I already speak the language. I needed a foreign language credit and for some reason the college didn't take my military Spanish credits. Whatever, it's an easy class and I figured I'd sleep through it. I was partially right. There are several people in the class that are beginners. They've never taken a Spanish class before and they're kind of lost. I don't blame them too much because the teacher moves a little fast. But I want to slap the shit out of all of them when they start bitching and whining and blaming everything on the teacher when I know for a fact that none of the little fuckers are studying outside of class. How the fuck are you going to learn if you don't study? And how are you going to blame it on the teacher when she gives you options. She bends over backwards to allow these adults children more than enough time to turn in their homework. Hell, I was sick for the past 2 weeks and couldn't finish a project. I asked her politely if I could turn in my questions and answers (in Spanish, covering the verbs in the chapter we tested on) today. She said yes. I assumed it was because I'm such a good student, but today she said she was taking work from everyone that had something missing from their portfolio. She's said more than once that no one has ever failed her class. I have a feeling that my "partner" (who is no longer my partner - I asked to change with someone else since I can’t have someone who is so freaking negative all the time pulling me down and fucking with my grades) is probably going to fail since he refuses to do any work outside of class, to include the projects that are due every test day. I’m so tired of being surrounded by these children! It must be nice to go to school on Mommy and Daddy’s money and not have to worry about things like GPAs and having to finish school to get a good job. 2 more years. Just 2 more years and I’ll be done with school. Please God let it go by quickly.

0032. i'm too tired to think of a song lyric

When we got home last night, we found that Ditto was still peeing on the floor in the bathroom, as well as in the kitchen.... in the kitchen. I'm not really ok with him peeing in the bathroom because it's gross, but it's been happening for so long that I've basically resigned myself to it. It's gross, but I hit it with some bleach and it's gone.

But peeing in the kitchen? OH HELL NO. I cannot and will not resign myself to that shit. It's disgusting, it's unsanitary, and it's just plain wrong!

What's worse is that he's still peeing blood. Yesterday it was really bad and seems to have tapered off a bit today, but it's still bloody and again: that's gross. So PK told me to call the vet and see what to do. Of course, they say "Bring him in!!" because apparently that means he's getting ready to block up again. I fail to see how him leaking everywhere means he's going to block up, but that's beside the point.

I can't stop thinking (or talking) about this stupid cat situation. It's destroying my freaking life!! I've talked to one of the guys in the counseling office about it, plus my Film & Lit professor (who noticed I was looking down today & asked me what was wrong - big mistake, I vented all over him), my boss, my mother, and everyone else who comes into the office.

This is fucking ridiculous. I shouldn't be this preoccupied with this stupid cat and I definitely shouldn't burst into tears when the vet tells me to bring the fucker in.

I called my psychiatrist because the bursting into tears part was a little alarming. She said that the bloodwork I had done last week to check my Lithium levels wasn't showing up in the computer so I need to come in tomorrow for more freaking bloodwork but she also wants to see me. At this point, I know I need it, so I'm not going to bitch about going to the psychiatrist.

0031. i wanna be a billionaire so freakin' bad

I'm talking to a friend in IM right now about the whole Ditto situation (see my previous post if you have no idea what I'm talking about). Because it's basically a straight copy/paste from an IM conversation, it might not flow as good as you're used to when I ramble... ok, it's exactly what you're used to when I ramble. But here is the end of the tale. (see what I did there? Tale/tail... nevermind)

The vet wanted to charge us $840. In addition to the $333 I already paid, it'd be $1173, which we're definitely not willing to pay.

We went in the back to talk to the dr & we told him that we felt like he basically held Ditto for ransom because we kept asking how much it was and they never would tell us. That hurt the doc's feelings so he said he'd knock an additional $250 off (he already gave us a 25% discount, which was $300 off - that's how much work they did on him). PK SAID NO!

He told Doc that he knew a lot of time & work was put in, so how about $125 instead. Doc said no, he fucked up, so he'd meet in the middle & $175 has been knocked off. It's now $665, which is more manageable since we're splitting it, but still. If they would've given us regular financial updates, he would've been put down $600 ago.

PK added everything up (including the $333 I paid last week), divided it in half and subtracted what I already paid. My "half" is $166, but that leaves him with $499 and that's an awful big ass chunk out of the money he's saved for Italy. I'm going to go ahead & pay half of the current total because I'm a good wife.

He didn't want the doc to think that we're all about the money (sorry, but in this instance, we are - we're trying to save money for Italy & he's WAY BEHIND ON SAVING) We can actually afford to pay the entire thing without any money being knocked off. I just don't want to. Like I said. Saving for Italy. I'd like to have AT LEAST $1000 saved up, but I'd prefer to have $2000.

The doctor knew he'd fucked up by not keeping us in the loop even though we asked every day about the current price on Ditto's treatment. That's why he knocked off 25% and then offered to knock off the additional $250.

PK wasn't pissed because it cost so much. He knew that having a cat in the hospital for 7 days wasn't going to be cheap. He was pissed off about the fact that they didn't tell us when they were doing something or let us know every day when we asked them what the total was.

Wednesday, when I talked to the chick dr, I was of the understanding that it'd be around $300 if Ditto came home on Friday. They kept him over the weekend and suddenly it's over a grand? Seriously?! I get that they saved his life, but $1173? SERIOUSLY??

They saved his life because he had a severe bacterial infection in his bladder. He had "sand" (crystals) in his bladder that ended up stopping him up completely. He couldn't pee at all, his bladder filled up and nearly burst (which is why he was screaming, couldn't get comfortable, & threw up - he was in that much pain). After they put a catheter in and drained his bladder, they did blood work and noticed that his kidneys were failing. if they hadn't done everything they did, he would have died.

Supposedly he's not going to pee everywhere anymore. We have to keep an eye on him to make sure he's actually peeing because there's a chance he'll stop up again. We have to change his diet (wet food only now - dry food isn't actually good for cats because there's so many carbs in it & they need protein, not carbs) & medicate him... although that's for an entirely different reason.

Ditto chases/attacks his tail. Seriously. He attacks that thing like it slapped his Momma. He growls at it & bites it and all sorts of other weirdness. We used to just laugh at him, but when we brought it up with the doc, she said it might he hyper sensitivity or hallucinations. The other doc (the owner of the clinic) checked him out and apparently Ditto suffers from mild seizures. He'll be on liquid phenobarbitol for the rest of his life.

He's now resting comfortably in my closet and I imagine when I go lay down he'll end up laying down with me (he's all cuddly now that I'm being nice to him). It's nice not having an insane cat who pees everywhere. Hopefully it lasts.

0030. I need no soft lights to enchant me

iTunes: The Nearness of You - Norah Jones

Mood: tired/exhausted/overworked/underpaid...

I took Ditto to the vet last week because I was tired of him peeing everywhere. I was hoping it was a medical thing so we could give him a few pills or get him a shot and he'd be over it. Well, PK was right that it was medical, but I was wrong that it'd be a quick fix. They diagnosed him with a bacterial infection in his bladder and "probably some kind of kitty mental issue where he hallucinates, and that's why he chases his tail everywhere... that, or he's super sensitive to everything around him and he's responding to that" (gotta love how exact medicine is). He's been at the kitty hospital since last Tuesday, when he threw up on my couch and FREAKED OUT because he was in so much pain. Whatever they gave him stopped him up and he couldn't pee at all! The day after he was admitted, they told me that his fucking kidneys had shut down! He's doing better now, but what the fuck did they give him??? He was FINE except for peeing on the bathroom floor & sometimes the bed. Now his bladder is so bad that he needs a fucking catheter and his kidneys are shutting down???? Something's seriously weird about this whole thing....

I've been on the phone with the vet every day since he was admitted. I ask how he's doing (because even though I'm mad at him for peeing everywhere, I feel bad for him and I realize that he's really a sweet kitty when he's not hurting) and then I ask how much the bill is, because I know keeping a cat hospitalized isn't cheap. They haven't told me how much it is. The last time I had a real solid number ($300) was Wednesday. I kept asking, because PK set a limit of $500. They kept telling me that the doctor hadn't put the notes into the computer yet, so they weren't sure and the doctor would call later to give me a medical and financial update on the cat. I got the medical update, but not the financial update. Saturday, when the doctor finally gave me a total... $830. In addition to the $333 I paid on Monday for "a routine visit that costs $100", the total is now $1163. And even better: the fucking vet hasn't called me back yet, the clinic closed at 6:00, and now there's an additional day of hospitalization to worry about (which is $55 per day).

Oh crap, I realized that there are 2 additional days tacked on to that $1163, because I spoke to him on Saturday. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I'm sorry, I love Ditto, but there is no cat in this entire world that's worth $1273 (plus whatever medical crap they had to do to him since Saturday).

There goes every bit of money I saved for Italy. FUCK! I feel like they kidnapped my cat, performed all kinds of procedures on him THAT I DID NOT AUTHORIZE (like the x-ray on Monday that cost $106 and was completely unnecessary), and are now holding him for ransom. I'm wondering if I can tell them I'll pay them the $500 I planned on and they can fuck themselves on the rest.

0029. Emma Pillsbury I'm not

I have OCD. It's not as intense as, say, Emma Pillsbury. I don't wear gloves when I'm eating. I don't insist on polishing each and every grape I eat.

But I do bleach my house, my pens are stored in a separate box as are my pencils and highlighters, my bedroom and closet doors have to be closed while I'm sleeping, the bathroom door has to be open while I'm showering, the kitchen can't be dirty when I'm cooking, and if I'm cooking, all the ingredients have to be set out in the proper increments and in the correct order of when I'm going to use them.

Ok, maybe I'm a little more Emma Pillsbury than I thought.

Case in point:

0028. my mommy is my best friend

No really. As much as I love Nerf, Gigi, & MamaChelle, my mommy is my best friend. Maybe that's why I've never really acted out against her. I've never told her I hated her. Don't even remember ever telling her I didn't like her. Even when I've been pissed off at her and thinking that she was "out to get me" (don't all 16 year olds think that at some point when they don't get their way?) she was always my best friend.

My mom has been sick for over a decade now. It started out with a cyst growing on her pancreas. It developed into chronic pancreatitis, which brought with it chronic pain from the multiple surgeries she's had to have and the nerve damage that resulted from those surgeries. Now, she lives with chronic pain and full-blown Type I Diabetes because her pancreas finally gave up the ghost. She's always in pain.

She had her pain pump removed a little while ago, which sounds like a dumb move because of the pain that she's always in, but she had bad reactions to the medications they filled the pump with as well as the pump itself and it was so bad that she couldn't continue living with the pump. Now, she's managing her pain with medication her doctor prescribes, but it's a controlled substance, and the doctor is only legally allowed to prescribe a certain amount per month. She's getting ready to run out, and her appointment isn't until the 15th. She's had several rough days this month, and it seems to only be getting rougher. Normally, she'd just say "Whatever" and deal with it, but she can't now. She can't take the normal amount that she needs because she'll run out faster. She can't stretch it out too much because it might start the process of withdrawal... which would kill her.

My mom is not strong enough to go through that. And I'm not strong enough to go through losing my mom. I've cried myself to sleep countless times at the mere thought of losing my mother, and her talking like she talked to me today terrifies me. I literally walked into the office and collapsed on my friend.

If I can't even deal with the thought of losing my mom, how am I going to deal with actually losing her?

0027. all my agony fades away when you hold me in your embrace

iTunes: "All I Need" - Within Temptation

Mood: happy

I know it's been a while since I've posted. There are plenty of good reasons for it, namely that I've been working and doing the school thing. Monkey got sick for a while and she took up pretty much all my time & energy (the flu is bad enough, but when it's a 5 year old that's sick... it's awful). My internet had all sorts of issues and I was without internet for a week or so. But mostly, I was too busy with the whole wedded bliss thing.

Yup, you read that right. PK & I got married!

Technically. We filed a Declaration of Informal Marriage, which is common-law marriage. But in Texas, it's as legal as going in front of a judge or a priest, so we're as married as married can get. I hyphenated my last name and we now refer to each other as "husband" and "wife" because we're silly like that.

HAPPY TIMES!!

Speaking of happy times... I've been battling with pretty severe depression for almost my entire life. I've talked about it on the Twitloss blog a lot because it deals with health and weight loss issues, but basically - I'm bipolar. It's not as severe as some other people I know, but it's enough that it does affect me and those around me. It got to the point where I couldn't handle it anymore, and I finally broke down and went to Mental Health at the VA (something I put off for 2 years because I was so certain I could handle it).

Turns out, asking for help with something doesn't make you weak, and being bipolar doesn't make you crazy. Amazing, the stuff you learn when you reach out...

Anyway. They put me on some meds to help level my moods out. In the 5 weeks or so I've been on it, I've been sleeping better, I haven't been crying or screaming nearly as much, and I'm generally happier. The one issue I have with it is that I"m hungry all the time. And it's really hard to resist grabbing the puffy Cheetos (which I'm craving BIG TIME). I drink a TON of water because the meds dehydrate me, but also because it helps to curb my appetite... kind of.

I'm secretly terrified that I'm going to gain all the weight I lost back, but as of the last doctor's appointment, I've only gained 1 pound back, and that was during Girl Time, so I'm attributing that pound to water retention.

I've cleaned up the house and it looks nearly model-like again. I just need to get the boxes out of the corner and see about setting up that damned elliptical. I need to jump on it & get the remaining 40 pounds off. If we're going to Italy in the summer, I don't want to look like a beached whale when we hit the private pool at the villa.

Oh, did I forget to mention that part?

We're going to ITALY for TWO WEEKS this summer!!!! We're going with PK's family and a few very close family friends. Monkey's staying home with Nana, so it'll kinda be like a honeymoon. At some point, PK's hoping to take me to Rome for a day or two, just us. I can't wait!!

And in other good news (I'm full of it today, aren't I?) I've been elected president of my college's creative writing club. Kind of exciting, but at the same time kind of scary since I don't know the first thing about running an extra curricular club. But I'm sure it'll be a blast either way.

Guess I'd better get to work. Or pretending to work. :)

0026. I hate my cats. Still.

I've never really been what you'd call a cat person. In fact, I sort of hate them. But I got Stinky for Monkey anyway, because I felt she needed an animal to grow up with, and a dog is out of the question because we live in a small condo with no yard for the dog to run in. At the time we got Stinky, I didn't know that PK was going to move in with us, because he'd been hemming and hawing over us officially living together for a while. While I'm over the moon that PK finally did move in with us, I'm not-so-ecstatic that the animals came with. Obviously.

Remember my I Haz Anger post? I hand-wrote an "I Haz Anger... Part 2" post the other night. To sum up (because the hand-written post is about 5 pages long): the cats pooped on Monkey's comforter. A few days later, I accidentally locked them in my room and they pooped and peed on my comforter, which is too large for me to put in the washing machine, so I had to take it to the laundromat. The day I got the comforter from the laundromat, they peed on Monkey's bed.

If you remember from my last post, I've been having some serious anger issues lately. I had all sorts of fantasies about how I was going to kill the cats. Antifreeze in their drinking water. Letting them out of the house. Running them over with my car. Throwing them out the window... I'm not a violent person normally, but this is getting out of control and I don't know what to do.

PK won't let me get rid of the animals. Any of them. Even though Tessa sits in her cage all the time, never played with, rarely talked to, and making a mess for me to clean up - because even though she's PK's bird, I'm the one who feeds, waters, and cleans up after her. The same goes for the cats (although PK does play with the cats a lot - they're his babies). I'm the one who feeds and cleans up after them.

And how fair is that?? Why is is that I'm the one taking care of them? They're not mine. I don't want them. And yet I'm saddled with the responsibility of keeping them alive & happy. If I had it my way, they'd be given to good homes or sold (in Tessa's case... she's worth about $3,000).

Per TwiMom227's suggestion, I'm going to write a letter to PK, stating my feelings on the situation and asking for a peaceful (and fair) resolution. The one thing I have to say though... if Ditto continues to use anything but the litterbox as his place to pee, he's got to go. I cannot and will not allow him to remain here if he does. It's not sanitary and I refuse to put my child (and myself) in that kind of living situation. Not to mention the risk of toxoplasmosis...

I had Monkey's carpet professionally cleaned today. The guy who did the room said that the smell might come back, because the carpet was fairly saturated in urine, and because it's especially acidic, it's likely already gone through the padding and is possibly starting to eat at the concrete below (cat urine is acidic, concrete is alkaline. mixing the two is not good juju). I'm going to call the landlord and ask him if we're allowed to rip out the carpet and replace it with something else. I'm thinking wood flooring, since carpet sucks. We already have to replace the wood flooring in front of the bathroom because the asshole Ditto used that for his bathroom before he discovered Monkey's room.

God, I hate my cats.

0025. I don't know where I am & I don't trust where I've been

iTunes: "Full Moon" - The Black Ghosts

mood: emo & ridiculous

I've been battling with some pretty bad anger issues lately. According to PK, I've been "mean" for the past 4-5 months. While I admit that I've been touchier lately, I don't think that I've been mean. I've still done everything in my power to make sure that he and Monkey are happy while still trying to maintain some semblance of sanity and my own identity, but if they (he) say anything that I construe as "rude" or even slightly off, I immediately flip the bitch switch. And that's not right!

I know he's not always as rude as I feel he's being. He's abrasive sometimes, but he's actually quite a wonderful guy. He works his ass off and takes care of us and he really loves us with all his heart... but it's never enough for me. I'm a selfish greedy bitch and I want more.

I want him to hold my hand, tell me he loves me all the time (without my prompting him first), to be sweet and cuddly and teddy-bearish, and to fucking propose! I want him to tell me he wants to spend the rest of his life with me, loving me, and treating me like a queen. I don't think that's so much to ask, is it?

I know he's not the teddy-bear type. He's not smooshy and into public displays of affection and I knew that going in. I was in one of my "I don't want to be touched" phases, so it was fine with me. And sometimes he does let me climb all over him and smooch all over his face, so it's not as though I'm going without affection. He makes me happy and he takes care of me.

And I've completely gone off on a tangent. This is not what I wanted to talk about.

I've been on a rollercoaster lately. One minute I'm up, the next I'm so low that I can see what my downstairs neighbor is doing because I'm through the floor.

I'm downphasing right now and battling the urge to either cry or scream. Monkey was playing in her room (instead of putting on her nightgown like PK told her to do) and she shattered the piggybank I got for her before she was born. Since I got it from a craft store in San Antonio, there's no way I can replace it. And I was already ready to cry, so when I saw that it was the piggybank, I burst into tears. PK was understanding about why I was crying but upset with Monkey for fucking around instead of doing what she was told. I still feel like a dumbshit for bursting into tears over a piggybank.

My doctor put a consult into Mental Health for me, but I don't know when that's going to happen. It's the VA and they're notoriously overworked, understaffed, and slow as hell. Until then, I'll have to figure out a way to keep going.