| Now |

80!

10 March 2015, 14:40

IT’S EIGHTY DEGREES. OH MY DEAR LORD, I THOUGHT I’D NEVER SEE THE SUMMER AGAIN.

GOD, It’s nicer outside than it is inside. Did ONE STRAIGHT HOUR on the evil tready. No stopping, no resting. Legs could actually go more, but I got up late so I have to go do other things. I do really need to get the car fixed and phone back on. I am itching to at least try and get some interviews. I want to feel that I’m trying at this job thing at least. It’s weird not needing to work. Now, it’s me chomping at the bit because I WANT to work. I shame my lazy-ass spongey-moochering brethren all over the world with this attitude, but I can’t seem to be a woman of leisure, as much as I try.

This is amazing. My legs don’t even hurt. Could be just the synapses that deliver pain messages to my brain have shriveled up and died because of cancer. Or Lupus. Lately though, I’m kind of thinking I have diabetes. I am really tired lately, and sleep in spurts of 3 to 4 hours, so I looked it up on WebMD. The only thing I have ruled out is Mononucleosis. These are the things I most likely have:

Anemia
Sinusitis
Diabetes, type 2
Chronic sinusitis
Cancer
Sleep deprivation
One of the Hepatitises. They all seem like possibilities.
Hyperthyroidism
Chronic fatigue syndrome (CFIDS)

Here’s some stuff I might have, I’m not sure about though. I’m not ruling them out but they are contenders:

Multiple sclerosis
Glomerulonephritis
Rheumatoid arthritis
Cat-scratch disease
Lyme Disease
Lupus
Hypopituitarism

I really wonder about that Hyperthyroidism. That sounds like something I could have, but then so does the Diabetes. Could be chronic fatigue syndrome, but in my heart of hearts, I don’t really believe that’s a disease. It’s the shit-I-don’t-wanna-get-up disease. Also, I think after pondering it, MS might be something. My shoulder and elbow have been sore for like two weeks, and they don’t seem to be getting better. I don’t remember doing anything to them, especially the elbow, so I may move MS to the first list. Really, it’s very possible that I’m going to drop over dead at any time. Also, I have itchy spots on my arm and legs that don’t go away. Maybe I have something that has snuck into my nervous system. Or maybe some black recluse bit me and this is the beginning of the flesh sluffing off as it dies. Being alive really does have its drawbacks sometimes.

In other news, Poor Doug. He has really good days and really bad days. And he just goes to extremes when they happen. One day, he’s a rockstar, and the next, we need to fire off some resumes. I think if he would just even-keel it a bit, everything would be a lot smoother on his psyche. From what I know (from what he tells me) he is doing a great job, and keeps getting indications of it – he’s getting more responsibility, he’s getting them TELLING him he’s doing everything right. There’s something in him that doesn’t let him believe it. As we all know, I’m a giant proponent of paranoia, so there’s a big part of me that says a good dollop of paranoia isn’t a bad thing, but I don’t want him to have so much that he starts A) altering his behavior to cater to that paranoia and B) make him miserable and not let him see what a good job overall he’s probably doing. Starting a new job, especially one that is way above the pay grade of anything you’ve been doing is unnerving. I told him the same thing I tell myself: Act as if ye have faith, and faith shall be given to you.

Fake it till you make it. I don’t know if truer words have ever been spoken. He takes the bad days to heart, and thinks the good days are a fluke, or fake. Well. I knew he could do this, and I’m proud of him anyway. Just seems I can’t say or do anything to make him feel better or alter his perspective so that he sees his whole timeline and not just focus in on one or two points. Yup. I’m all nurturing and supportive and shit. He needs to have more confidence. And if shit really does hit the fan, it might be because of something totally unrelated to him. Crap like that happens all the time, because life is a big bag of unfair most of the time. He just needs to do that best job he can, and be as principled as he can, then if for some reason, it all goes to hell, he can be really proud of the person he was and KNOW that he did everything right. AND SOMETIMES SHIT JUST HAPPENS. This thought has comforted me more than once.

I wish I could do more for him. Right now I’m trying to fix my sleepies so I don’t wake him up four or five times a night. I’m TRYING to exhaust myself and stay awake until 11 p.m. so when I go to sleep, I’ll sleep through the night. I don’t now, and keep waking him up even when I’m trying to be REALLY quiet. I would succeed except for one black dog that doesn’t give a shit if its nighty night time, and figures if I’m up, then EVERYBODY should be up and damn the whole keep-quiet thing. We also have a new thing that keeps the dogs up now. THIS THING:
Doug heard a meowing in the walls of the house. He figured it was this big, giant nasty looking orange cat he has seen in the yard. I think the big giant nasty looking orange cat use to get in fights with my poor dumb big black one. Well. We heard the mewing coming from the intake vent in the hallway so I grabbed me a screwdriver to get the cat out. “Be careful, don’t want it to attack you…” says Doug. Just spiffy. Hate cats, and am about to be torn up by one. So I take the vent off, and we find this little orange kitten. It seems to like people and probably would have tolerated the dogs if Sophie and Hurley hadn’t tried for hours to get up into its face. Hurley sits there and barks at it, I think out of frustration that it doesn’t play. And they chase it. They think they are playing. It doesn’t think that. But, the dogs aren’t out to hurt it and are big pussies when it rears up and scratches at it. Hurley follows it, trying to make friends or mush it or kill it or something. So far it has pooped on the couch. And Hurley has eaten that poop. CHRIST.
Anyway, it likes me, hisses at the two stupid dogs and tolerates Easley who, in turn is just skitty about the kitty. I don’t know where it is now. It might be somewhere in the house, it might be somewhere outside. If it hangs around, Doug says we can keep it. New kitty seems to like it and is trying to get it to play. I’ve named it Orange Kitty – or Kitty for short. New Kitty is now Black Kitty – or Kitty for short.

I was up all night, feeding this kitty turkey and keeping the dogs from doing whatever they were planning on doing to it. God only knows.

Okay. Well. Endorphins are wearing off, and I think I have to find this kitty before something happens. Don’t want no blood and orange fur on mah carpet.