Catching Up is What I Do

Well, here I am again, trying to blog and pour my guts out and all that jazz.  The less I write, the more I miss it, yet I find myself in this vicious cycle of wanting to write about everything and nothing all at the same time.  When I opened my dashboard, and saw that my last post was from January 2016, I almost shit a brick. Nearly two years have gone by without a peep.  What's funny is that so much life has happened in the dash between January 2016 - present.  I'm just terrible at follow-through, so let's raise a glass and toast my effort here, shall we?

Over those course of these last two years, I think I have finally, maybe started to get myself figured out.  I've been on this quest to find myself for a while, and I've come upon crossroad after crossroad, trees in the road, cliffs, U-turns...you name it.  I'm 36 now, and while I never thought it would take this long for me to get it straight, I think I'm good now.  At least, I hope I am. 

Here's what I know:
I'm a 30-something who's married to a 40-something, and we live in a little apartment with our two furry children.

I'm a grad school student who works full time.

I love to watch TV.  Like, a lot.  Probably way too much.  But you know what?  There are worse things to love.  I will be writing some about the shows I watch. 

I am addicted to budgeting.  This does not mean I don't spend money...it simply means I am always aware of where every penny is going.  Until I forget to pay the cable bill like I did this month.  Oops. 

Facebook's new option to comment with GIFs is probably one of my most favorite things.  I have so much fun with that crap.

I'm a runner now.  Shoot, I never in a million years thought I'd say that.  My brother and I ran the Hungry Turkey 5k on Thanksgiving - yes, 72 hours ago.  I ran it in 44:32.  Well, with intervals.  But hey, I got a delicious cinnamon roll and a fugly hoodie to show for it.  Like, uugggllly.  As in, "I can't believe I paid $30 for this race to get such an ugly hoodie." 

I'm a soccer fan now.  I never thought in 2 million years I'd say that.  Louisville City FC is like, the greatest thing since sliced bread.  And mayo in a jar.  And white fudge Oreos.  THEY'RE CHAMPS, Y'ALL!! 

I love my friends.  I'm not always the best there is, but I'm grateful for the ones who keep coming back around. 

I still cook - a lot.  As a matter of fact, I've basically dropped all these food lifestyles I've tried and gone back to good ole caloric moderation with as much fresh/Non-GMO stuff as possible.  Anything else is way too stressful.  For example, at the store today, I bought my favorite Special K cereal and Fairlife 2% milk.  I haven't had milk in foreevveerrrr.  But you know what?  A bowl of cereal is FINE.  Seriously, it is. 

I'm still a flute girl.  Even teaching it now. 

I still suck at birthdays.  Christmas is still not my favorite holiday, but it's not my least-favorite anymore.  I'm kind of in a little bit of the spirit this year. 

Well, you're probably tired of reading this now.  My dogs are whining for their dinner, I need to finish watching the Patriots dominate the Dolphins, and I need to get my vegetable soup in the Instant Pot so I have something to eat because, you know, moderation...

Here's what you can expect:  me trying to keep up with my thoughts.  One of these days, I want to write a book about God knows what, but I need somewhere to write whatever is on my mind at whatever time is comes up, because I can't remember jack squat on my own.  I'll ramble, I'll vent, I'll review some TV stuff, I'll share whatever I can share, including spoilers.  Don't worry, I'll warn you first.

Peace out, homeskillets.  (Wow, that's as nostalgic as these crushed velvet outfits and chokers coming back in style!)

Peace

It's pretty rare for me to talk about things in a serious tone.  I try not to take life too incredibly seriously, and I try to find a reason to laugh every day.  The thing is, I'm living with anxiety.  Sure, I've always been the worry wart, and my brain wants to explode when spontaneous things combust around me because I'm such a planner, but over the past few years, this condition has developed inside of me, and I'm finally willing and able to call it what it is.  But let me clear one thing up: this is not anxiety/depression.  I am not depressed.  I fall into the occasional slump, sometimes for 2 or 3 days at a time, but I never feel hopeless or unworthy.  I never fall that far.

It's been difficult for me to find peace most of my life.  I have always, even as a kid, felt like I'm living somewhere I don't belong, and my life just isn't mine. It's like I'm living in a surreal, parallel universe of someone else's. I still struggle with that at 34 years old.  Sometimes I feel like things are spinning out of control, and I have anxiety attacks.  It's just part of my life now.  I constantly worry about things I need to do, I carry a load of guilt around about all the friendships I've lost as a result of my own stupidity.  I still have trouble fully letting go of my first marriage because I feel so scorned and want revenge. I finally decided that I had to find a way to get rid of all of this extra weight.  

Having grown up surrounded by and immersed in the tenets of the Southern Baptist faith, it was ludicrous to even try and think about venturing out into another form of spirituality that may have better fit me.  Nothing else was an option: prayer was the only way, God was the only other-wordly force.  Have I ever experienced God?  Yes, on multiple occasions.  I believe He exists and is very real.  Have I ever experienced evil forces?  Yes.  I believe they also exist and are very real. 

I've never really felt connected to prayer.  I participated...bowed my head, spoke some words of praise and voiced concerns and made requests, said "Amen..." but I've never really *felt* it.  Do I believe in miracles?  Sure...I've been part of those small daily ones, like when you're driving, and you drift off into la la land or mess with the radio, but you happen to look up at just the right moment to hit a curve or avoid slamming into the car in front of you. 

Last week, I decided to take a leap of faith (no pun intended) and try meditation.  I talked to a few people, looked up some stuff online, bought a book and a journal, and I have started with YouTube videos of guided meditations for beginners (hey, gotta start somewhere, right?)  I actually started on Monday, and have practiced for 10 minutes a day, and I can already absolutely tell a difference in my spirit.  It's a slow start, and I'm learning patience with myself, but something is happening...a shift in my perspective and mindfulness is definitely occurring.  I have no idea where this journey is going to take me, but it will be so interesting to find out. 

Evil Money

I'm skipping dinner to write this because I've had such a bad day, and I need to get this off my chest.

I've started reading Dave Ramsey's The Total Money Makeover, because I want to be able to provide a place for Phil and me when he gets here permanently.  I'm about 75% of the way through the book, and have learned a lot of invaluable information.  I've started to change my view of money and how it should be handled, and I'm so inspired to make the changes that Dave calls for in his plan.  I've contemplated taking up a 2nd job again, because I know that will be the quickest and easiest way to make the money I need to get rolling.  I've even thought about selling my flute, and anyone who's known me for any decent length of time should know how big of a deal that is.  The thing is, it's the last part of me that's left.  If I give that up, I have nothing else.  I'm really struggling the thought of letting that go.

I decided to try and save money where I can, so I'm cancelling my gym membership, I've cancelled Weight Watchers, and I will probably go inactive on the direct sales companies I'm a part of, just to save from paying what will keep me active.  I'm ready for a radical change, and I don't really care who has what to say about it.

Today, I contacted a guy who I thought could help me get a better insurance rate on my car.  I drive a 13-year-old Dodge Neon, and pay $92/month for liability only as a driver on my mom's policy.  Personally, I think that's ridiculous, and I hate paying that much.  My annual premium is triple the value of the car.  STUPID. 

The guy was very nice and very helpful, and he wanted to find me a better rate.  He took my info, including my SSN, and a couple hours later, emailed me to say that I should just stay where I'm at because my credit doesn't afford me a better rate than what I'm paying.  He actually said my rate was fantastic.  That's probably the word that broke the camel's back for me.  Fantastic?  Really?

Then I got mad that my credit was the basis for the rates.  What in the hell does my financial history have to do with my ability to drive a car without wrecking it to pieces?  Really, I want to know.  So, here I am again, being punished because my credit is in repair mode from my first marriage - I'm facing the repercussions of a lazy spouse who put me in this mess to begin with.  I swear to God, he will haunt me for the rest of my life.  (Clearly, I still have issues surrounding this.)

The results instantly deflated me, but oddly enough, at the same time, my inner "Billie" came out.  That's my mom.  There's not much of her in me, but once in a while, what is there rears its head in situations like this.  It's kind of a running joke...but I digress, as usual.  My inner Billie rose up and said, "Eff you, credit.  I don't need you, anyway."  So I'm going to keep what I have, incorporate it into my budget, and work around it.  It is what it is, right?  Suck it up, buttercup.  Figure it out.

I will gain control of this, and I will be better off for it in the long run.  I am motivated, but I hope I can keep up the momentum.  I will conquer you, EVIL MONEY!!

Another Goodbye

Tomorrow, Phil goes back to England for another undetermined amount of time.  As I reflect on the week we've had together, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions.  I'm enthralled that it worked out so that we could spend our 1st anniversary together.  At the same time, I'm aggravated at what a cocked up Immigration system we have.  How can it be so difficult to let such a good man into our country? 
For those of you who get to see your loves every day, you are so lucky, and I am envious.  Thou shalt not covet?  Well, I covet the time you get to spend together that I don't get.  I want that all the time.  I challenge you all to hug your love ones tightly, and do not let them go.  Every moment with them is precious, and never forget that they can be taken away from you in a second.  Saying goodbye never gets easier, no matter how many times you have to do it.

Lost in Therapy Translation

Music used to be my therapy, my escape route.  I could get lost for hours in the twiddles of my flute or the tinkers on my piano.  But now, there is no music in my house, or in my life.  That leaves a sense of loneliness that is difficult to describe -- only one that other musicians know. 
Writing was my next form of therapy.  I used to write poem after poem about anything and everything.  I don't even have my poems anymore.  I left those at my old house when I got divorced.  I did have one published once, though.  I still have the book.
Then, I started to blog, thinking it might take me somewhere and give me a consistent means of expression.  I love blogging, but I struggle to find my communicative purpose.  I have millions of thoughts every day, and think, "Man, I'd like to write about that," but the second I sit down to write, I blank.  Well, I don't really blank out...I think it's more of me having so much so say but not knowing where to start. 
My background in English knows that good readers make good writers.  I have EVERY intention of reading more; my heart is in the right place, but I never seem to find the right time. 
There was a period of time when going to the gym was my therapy.  That didn't last long.  I lack the determination because when it comes to exercise, mediocre is good enough for me.  
After that phase, furniture was my therapy. Let me tell you something -- I LOVE restoring and upcycling furniture.  Seriously, it is a huge passion of mine.  I'm just limited in time and resources, so I just can't do it as much as I really want to.
Cooking was my therapy in between all of that other stuff. 
Now, interestingly enough, working is my therapy.  This is not how I imagined my life. I never stop.  Ever.  I don't have any sense of work/life balance, no matter how hard I try.  I want to work to live, not live to work.
How do I regain my balance?  I feel so lost. 

New Year

As I posted my blog just a minute ago, I found the draft you see below...unfinished, of course. 

'Tis the season to reflect and renew, right? I admit, I get sucked in to the hype of a hopeful new year. A fresh start. 2013 has been a roller coaster for me, but I have to say that I am not all that disappointed with how it turned out.
For starters, I married my perfect match. While we're still waiting for our perfect happy ending, we've made huge strides in getting there. I know I moan and groan and cry about our time apart, and I know some of you get sick of it, but it's not easy living apart.  The separation has taught me to never, ever take our time together for granted, and it breaks my heart when I see people who do. I have learned to cherish every moment, because you never know when you will have to say goodbye.

Spring Cleaning of the Mind

My life is so flippin' random. No matter how much effort I put into giving it some structure, I am always left spinning in circles. Sixty days ago, I made a career change into corporate America and became a Payroll Specialist for Paychex. I actually just came back from a week in Rochester, NY, which went by so quickly, yet so slowly, all at the same time. I am still confident that this change is one of the better decisions I have made as of late, and the payoff is awesome. While I still work at Carmax part time, I finally have a schedule that my body can follow.  Sure, I'm tired some mornings, but isn't everyone?
I've slowly opened up about some health issues I've been facing recently, as well. Over the past 6-8 months, every blood pressure reading I have had has been really high.  What's normal? Something like 120/80?  When I went to the Little Clinic one day for an upper respiratory infection, it was 183/110.  Just last week, it was 152/100.  I'm 32 years old and I'm experiencing hypertension.  It's really starting to make me nervous, so I've been on the hunt for a doctor, and have requested an appointment.  I don't want to be in danger of stroking out before Phil gets here.  OH! I forgot! Immigration: Phase 1 is COMPLETE and APPROVED!  In layman's terms, this just means that the USCIS (Dept of Immigration) has approved my application to bring Phil over as my husband.  This is a HUGE step.  Anywho, back to the blood pressure thing. I have been trying to make a conscious effort to decrease the amount of caffeinated drinks I ingest, and while I don't eat much salt to begin with, I have also been trying to cut that out...as much as I can and still have some flavor to my food. I have reeeeeaaaaaaallllllllly tried to drink water, at least 85-90% of the time. It is damn near impossible for me to give up the occasional Coke or Sweet Tea.
I get to the gym in spurts -- as much as I can.  Planet Fitness is a good place.  If I can just get this stupid foot to cooperate, things would be copacetic.
The best part about my whole job change is getting to see more of my family -- something I missed out on for too many years.  My nieces bring so much joy to my life, and I just can't get enough of them.  Tonight was the middle one's 3rd birthday party...to the theme of Frozen, of course.  My brother and his wife, and my sister and I all grew up around the same people, so naturally, several of those people with whom I grew up were there, with all their kids running around.  I was sitting far away from all the noise and chaos when it hit me:  I'm only friends with ONE of these people on Facebook (not counting my family in that equation, of course.)  I found it to be an interesting paradox that these people who knew much more about me than I knew of myself for all these years have no part in my daily life, yet we all see each other on a pretty consistent basis because my brother and his wife are pretty sociable.  We're talkin' cookouts, Derby parties, birthday parties...really any reason to have people together and eat and be crazy.  Then I started wondering why it even mattered whether or not we were Facebook friends. Facebook doesn't define my life...or is it starting to?  I use Facebook a lot. I mean, A LOT. Mostly because I enjoy writing clever statuses that make people laugh, whether it's about a TV show or some political current event or some pop-culture phenomenon.  In general, people get a kick out of what I write.  There have been many times when I have contemplated pursuing a genre and just writing something, anything, every day.  I feel good when I write. I feel good when I read.  I feel good when I play music.  I'm really good at all 3 of those things, so why can't I figure out a way to make time for them?  Maybe quitting job #2 would be a start, but I'm so close to earning the Vegas trip I can SMELL IT (that's another blog post for another time.)
I'd like to have a blog that people want to read, and enjoy reading.  I like to be engaged in discussion and conversation, and I like voicing my perspective on things.  Your #1 suggestion is going to be to set aside 30 minutes each night to write whatever I want to write.  I'm okay with a goal like that -- it's easy, and attainable, for sure.  MY problem with goals is that I have zero accountability. None. Zip. Zilch. NADA.  I have no one to answer to if I don't get down 300 words a night, or if I don't get someone's question answered. I have the will to do more, but what's my incentive?  Self therapy every night?  Maybe. But is that enough?  No.
I suppose all this rambling is the "Spring Cleaning" of my mind.  Maybe 30 minutes a night is all I need.