The Soccer

My niece and nephew are in soccer this year, but I hadn't gone to any of their games until this week.  I was able to go to Charlotte's game on Thursday before rehearsal, and I was at the field complex for three hours today, watching both Charlotte and Isaac play.

I have some observations:

1. It unnerves me to a very intense degree to see so many children running around unsupervised.  I mean, it really unnerves me.  To the point that I run little scenarios in my head about tackling would-be kidnappers or leaping in between a car and a kid.  To the point that I want to shake the inattentive parents and tell them just how easy it would be to kidnap their children.  To the point that I feel like I should carry a full first-aid kit with me just in case someone has a compound fracture and I need to call upon my Girls Camp first-aid certification and set it with two sticks and my triangular bandage (which happened to be pink; don't be jealous).
2. The constant wind today made me all kinds of stabby.  When we got home, I immediately went to my room to sit and be quiet without something blowing in my hair or my eyes.  I'm still itchy.
3. I need to take lots more (read: any) water with me.  I was about ready to knock a kid down just for the Powerade.
4. It's fun to have coloring games on my phone for my younger nieces and nephew.  Even though my phone was very sticky after they used it. :)
5. I feel like turning into a elderly Japanese woman and wearing long sleeves, long pants, socks, shoes, a hat, and carrying a parasol or umbrella.  So bright.  So very bright.
6. There are WAY too many moms wearing basketball shorts or athletic leggings.  Really, moms, you're not fooling anyone with that.  I'm pretty sure you're not basketball players, and I'm pretty sure you didn't just come from the gym.
7. I kind of want people to have tailgate parties in the parking lot.  That would be kind of cool.
8. Why are public park bathrooms so filthy?!  Honestly.  The light in the women's bathroom didn't even work, and I didn't want to think about the floor I was walking on.  If I had kids, I'd be really tempted to set up a tarp and a bucket and have some hand sanitizer.  Don't put it past me to be That Mom.  I mean, you know the grass is cleaner than the bathroom floor, and you can empty the bucket when you get home to a working toilet.  (My brother told me just enough about the urinals to make me very glad I'm a woman...)
9. Ugh.  Now I want a shower.

Really, though, it was fun.  I got to watch my niece and her team run around the field, sometimes scoring.  I got to watch my nephew and his team run around a much bigger field, sometimes getting the ball near the goal.  They have fun and they get halftime snacks.  And there is always lots of Powerade.

DOMESTIC GODDESS or something

Since interview after interview has yielded nothing except some interesting public transit stories (the stoned guy who couldn't remember if he needed 50 cents to get to Oregon or Ogden...), I've decided to embrace the free time I suddenly have.  On Tuesday, I made butternut squash soup, dinner for a neighbor who just had a baby, pork chops, and zucchini bread.  Today, I did pork chops again and made peach crisp.

I've learned something.

It's pretty awesome to make soup out of homemade chicken stock and butternut squash and onions from your garden.  The flavor is just better.  I'm going to get all kinds of crazy and add ginger and cumin next time I make it.  Which will probably be tomorrow or Saturday.  Because I'm just that wild.

I'm going to make applesauce chocolate chip cookies tomorrow, and I just remembered that, even though I bought a truckload of popcorn at Costco tonight, I totally forgot to get applesauce.  Dare I--GASP--use homemade applesauce?!

I'm having a lot of fun just pottering around the house, ripping marigolds by the bucket-load out of the flowerbed (I'm not even kidding--they kind of went crazy this year and smothered all my snapdragons) and thinking about dusting.  It's fun to let my brain work on problems that don't involve spreadsheets and engineers.  I'm a lot more relaxed now that I've stopped freaking out about finding a job.  The job will come. In the meantime, I'm making up soup recipes, going to my neighborhood quilt group, and smelling like baked goods.  I'd say that's a pretty fair trade-off.  I'd also say that makes me sound like I'm about 80 years old. Which is fine.

Oh!  Exciting (ha) news!  After years of toenail trauma (one trauma involved a HOLE in my toenail...yeesh), my toenails have finally grown out the damage and I am so excited to start using nail polish again.  The only problem is, what color?  I have juuuuust about every color except maybe yellow, and it's time to have colorful toenails again.

Heck, I could match them to my apron.

Domestic goddess indeed.

(Yes, I do intend to finish blogging about the Year From Hell.  No worries there.)

Stress

Apparently, I carry stress about career and finances in my low back, because I have a pretty badly pinched nerve down there.  I saw my regular chiropractor on Wednesday and everything was fine until I squatted down to clean my cat's face that night (did you know cats can get acne because of stress?  Well, now you do.) and it all went right back out.  I stretched and breathed and made an appointment with my backup chiropractor (he's in his local office almost every day, and my regular chiropractor is only in Mondays and Wednesdays) on Thursday, and things were pretty much fine until I rolled over and stretched on Monday morning and my low back just seized right up and I got a shooting pain down my left leg.  Yesterday was spent pretty much immobile, with ice packs and crying.  Good times.  I saw Backup today and will see Regular tomorrow, and I hope that does it, because I refuse to take another day with this pain.  I have greater sympathy now for people who deal with chronic pain, because almost NOTHING touches the pain of a pinched nerve.  Ice helps for a while.  Stretching helps for a while.  Switching between the bed and the recliner helps for a while.  But there is always a point where you pretty much pray to die because it hurts so badly.

Stress about career and finances?  ME?  The devil you say!  I'm as relaxed as can be about being in week four of unemployment!  I only think about puppies and rainbows!

Lies.

I've had nothing promising yet.  I've been on a few interviews and submitted several resumes, but nothing has panned out.  Thank goodness I have a good severance package coming my way, but that has its own share of angst attached.  If I take the severance, I can't work for the church for six months.  I'm trying to find a job with them, but, like I said, nothing has panned out.

Confession:  I have to work really hard to keep myself from becoming depressed over all of this.  REALLY HARD.  I caught a nasty cold the week after I was laid off, I can feel another one creeping its way into my throat, this pinched nerve made me pretty non-functional, and my checking account is getting smaller much too quickly.  My cat has acne (I KNOW--it's SO WEIRD), bills are coming due, and I have little freak outs about the jobs I feel qualified for not paying enough.  I worry that, the day after I get the severance check, the perfect job at the church will pop up and I won't be able to apply.  I worry because my car's registration expired at the end of June (don't tell) and I'm scared it needs major work (oh, I'm always scared of that, so it's nothing new).  I'm afraid someone will be injured or something really crazy will happen to the house and I won't have the money to help.  (I'm secretly afraid I'll never actually be able to buy a house or a newer car.)  I'm frustrated that I can't help more in the garden or around the house--I'd planned to weed my brother's flower beds with my niece yesterday, but when you can't move, you can't exactly weed.  I'm angry about the days wasted because I've been sick or injured.

If I could run, I'd probably run all the time just for something to ease the frustration, but running is a no-no with my back right now.  It's a pity, because I gained weight sitting around all day at my former job and there are a lot of really nice winter clothes I can't quite fit into anymore.

Are there good things about this?  Yup.  I'm not missing work or using sick days!  I've been cast in a challenging role in a murder mystery (coming to the Covey Center next month!) and I don't have to worry about late rehearsals!  I can go across the street and babysit my niblings when my sister-in-law has errands or meetings!  Today, after seeing Backup Chiropractor, I was able to empty the dishwasher without wincing, and get the sleep I didn't get last night!  I can theoretically flag up to Yellowstone or Bear Lake for a weekend!  Most of all, I'm not at a soul-sucking, frustrating, dead-end job anymore.  That's a huge blessing.

I need to focus on that.

Weirdest week EVAR

Ok, probably not actually the weirdest week I'll ever experience, but pretty darn weird anyway.

To sum up:

After many months of intense job dissatisfaction (which I won't go into here; that's what my Twitter account is for ha ha), I got an interesting answer to many prayers when I was laid off on Wednesday.  I'm still trying to sort through all the emotions, but I'm glad my sister has reminded me that it's ok to be sad and stressed even though it's overall a good thing.  I mean, I don't have a job.  That's hard to deal with.  I haven't been out of work since almost exactly seven years ago (which in itself is weird), and, previous to that, the longest I had been unemployed was about two months.  So, yes, it's fine that I'm experiencing stress as well as relief.

Someone at work asked what my plans were for Monday morning, kind of implying that I'd sleep in.  I told him I won't be sleeping in because my brother, sister-in-law, and their five kids are with us until they can move, and little Thomas usually wakes up between 5:30 and 6 AM and can be a pretty loud little guy.  So I've been waking up when he does and essentially closing my eyes until 7 because it's hard to get back to sleep after that.  It took me a few minutes of thinking to come up with Monday plans that don't include work.
1.  Take Thomas for a walk
2.  Have a nap
That's pretty much all I had planned, and then I started thinking about the list of things I really DO have, like filing for unemployment, applying for more jobs, seeing my chiropractor, dealing with the boxes of stuff from my former desk, crying (from stress), pestering my dad to fix my car, and avoiding stupid flash games on my computer.  I should probably do some chores, too; the flowerbeds are looking a little neglected.  I haven't dead-headed the petunias for weeks now, and they're getting scraggly.

I also have to decide when to sign my severance agreement.  I'm giving myself three weeks or so to find a job and I don't want to sign anything until I know where my income is coming from.  If I can't find a full-time job with a decent salary (and with the church), I'll take the severance and call it good.

At least my 401K isn't going anywhere.  And I'll have insurance for a while.  So that's nice.  Maybe now is the time to get braces ha ha.

I don't believe in coincidences, and I'm sure this layoff happened for a good reason and that very good things will come of it, but this next week is going to be rough.

At least I can blog again!  woooo!

Hey. (Such a lame title.)

I'm still here (if you know me on Facebook you will know that I am telling the absolute truth, because I'm all over Facebook despite vague reports that Facebook is no longer cool).

The thing is, I don't blog at work anymore and when I get home I'm either doing other things or watching movies/tv on this computer.  So that might mean I don't blog anymore at all.  Which is sad.  I still need to finish writing about the Year From Hell and the Aftermath; there is a lot I haven't said that I want to say.

The last six months have involved too many deaths, too little money, too little sleep, not enough snow (we got a lot, but not enough), my aging car, trying to figure out how to pay for big-possibly-career-changing symposiums without going into debt, some auditions, some sewing, some knitting, some crochet, lots of teaching in church, too much and not enough family time...so, you know, the usual stuff that keeps people busy.  I've started some drafts that will eventually become Real Posts.  I've done a lot of thinking, sometimes too much.  I've reevaluated some stuff.  I've put my winter clothes in space bags (and it's supposed to snow this week; oh well).  I haven't gotten my summer clothes out yet.  I'm listening for my baby nephew in the room down the hall from me.  I got a new cat (her name is Grendel and I love her).  I keep pricing new cars.  I wore heels to work the other day.  I'm trying to get into better shape.  I'm debating a couple of auditions this month.  I want to buy more jewelry.  I just made an apron for a little girl I've never met.

I need to clean up the sewing room.

Again.

So.  There you have it.  I'm around.  I'll write more soon.

--

Disclaimer – The views expressed here are the opinions of Heidi Aphrodite and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Grief

I still can't talk about this in detail, but I know I need to eventually.  My little gray cat Zelda died on November 2.  She'd been sick for a while, but that Friday was when we found out there was nothing else we could do for her and it was time to let her go.  It was devastating.  Still is. 

Two and a half weeks later, I look for her on the back of the living room couch, or behind the door, or under the rocking chair, or in my dad's office, or on one of the bar stools.  I'm disappointed and sad when she isn't there, even though I know she's gone. 

I start sobbing at the least expected times.

September and October were really, REALLY hard. 

I know it will take time and eventually I won't cry as much, but there is a lot I would give to have her nudge me with her wet cold nose, asking to crawl under the covers and curl up right next to my leg.

Nightmares (Part 2: Sleep Deprivation)

On to the Year From Hell.

First, I’ll talk about sleep deprivation.  In January of 2002 I was living in my brother and sister-in-law’s house in Springville in kind of an extended house-sitting arrangement.  My housemate and I shared the main floor, and the basement was rented to two college guys; Zach would continue to be the landlord while he and Kathleen were in Ohio, and I had planned to live there for at least the next 5 years.  In the meantime, I was paying half the rent and the Basement Boys, as I called them, paid the other half.  Unfortunately, soon after my brother and sister-in-law left and I moved in, the Basement Boys decided it would be cool to invite other roommates in violation of their contract.  I think there were ultimately 5 men living in a one-bedroom basement apartment, but I can’t remember.  What I CAN remember are the loud LAN parties they’d have nearly every night that kept me awake until 3 or 4 in the morning.  At the time, I was in school and working at least 30 hours a week as the assistant manager of a specialty gift store.  I would come home late from work or being out with friends and not be able to sleep because of the noise from the basement.  There were nights I only got three hours of sleep.  This went on for weeks until I was so exhausted I couldn’t do much more than pray and cry until I finally fell asleep.  It was both a shock and a relief when the Basement Boys told me they were moving late that February, but it was a little late for my body and mind to adjust back to normal sleeping habits.

I’d stay up late, struggle to sleep, and then have to get up and start all over again.  I don’t even know how I was functional except that I was suddenly liable for the entire rent and was working more hours than my housemate--I had no choice BUT to function.  My sleeping was pretty messed up before my trigger event, and the exhaustion of depression hit harder than it probably would have normally.  I remember being so tired I could hardly move or think, but so afraid to sleep because of the nightmares that I forced myself to stay awake until I absolutely couldn’t anymore.  When I finally slept, I had horrific dreams that woke me up with my throat tight from crying or screaming (I don’t think I ever screamed aloud, but I sure did in my dreams) and so scared that I couldn’t easily get back to sleep.  Not a good cycle, I know, but the thought of seeing a therapist hadn’t crossed my mind yet, so I lived (sort of) with the constant tiredness.

I don’t remember when, exactly, after my trigger the nightmares started.  I don’t even remember the first one I had, and I’m glad.  As they continued for close to two years, I learned to be grateful I didn’t remember some of them, because the ones I remember were horrific enough.  A lot of them involved houses--my house, my grandfather’s house, a big house that doesn’t exist in real life but that I’ve visited frequently in my dreams--or, infrequently, other buildings, like the museum/saloon that was haunted or my old junior high.  A lot of them involved people or things trying to get into the houses, or trying to sell the houses, or trying to burn down the houses.  Later on, as I was studying psychology, we learned a little bit about the theory of dream symbolism.  I don’t buy into all of it, but when I learned that a dream house symbolizes your psyche, it made a lot of sense.  My psyche was being attacked and the things I couldn’t deal with during the day were things that came out in my subconscious at night.

If the dreams weren’t just frightening, they were very violent.  I remember fires and blood and guns and death.  In one, my sons had been killed--their little bodies were behind the couch we'd used to try to barricade the window against attackers--and I remember seeing them, dead, while reloading my rifle and praying I would have good enough aim.  In another one, I accidentally shot a friend right through his forehead, and no one seemed to care.  In another, the trees in my yard were on fire and people had kidnapped my youngest sister, and I couldn't move fast enough to chase them and save her.  In one of the worst ones, I watched T get stabbed in the stomach from outside a locked door.  I screamed and screamed but no one helped and when I finally somehow got through the door, he was almost dead and all I could do was cradle his head in my lap and sob.  I woke up before the ambulances got there and was so shaken that I had to make sure he was ok and not dying in some storeroom somewhere.

Night after night after night, people died, houses burned, my loved ones were attacked...and I couldn't stop it.

Disclaimer – The views expressed here are the opinions of me and do not necessarily reflect the views of or The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.