Monday, November 05, 2012
over 365 days now
Wednesday, May 09, 2012
If I had a fork it would be stuck in his eye
Anyway. BigD has a huge gas sucking monster of a vehicle. (2006-J.eep C.omm.ander)We have talked several times over the past year about him downsizing but because he had a work car provided and the gas sucker wasn't used that often we never did anything about it. So, BigD approached *best friend* and told him since retirement (ie-no take-home company car) he has been burning through the gas and he wanted to get something more economical. Sounds good and common sensish so far right?
Well *BF* said he would buy the sucker outright for $9000 and get BigD into a brand spankin new auto lease with no money down. BigD thought this sounded terrific.
WHA?
You are going from NO car payment to a car payment every month for 3 years, and at the end of that time either give the car back or come up with the equivalent of about $10,000 to buy it out. (For clarification, I HATE car payments and haven't had one in many many years...if I don't have the money for it, I don't get it)
What part of this bullshit does he not get??
*BF* told him the cash upfront he would be giving BigD for the sucker would cover the payments for two years. HELLO? Remember BigD isn't working right now and his retirement checks blow. I am holding it all together but am nearing stroke stage balancing all the monetary balls in the air.
MY plan was to trade the sucker for a used (ie low miles, good shape 2009, 2010 or so) car. Almost evensteven.
The REAL kicker? *BF* is giving us $9000 for the above sucker.....even in fair shape they b.lue boo.k at $11,500. In Excellent shape it's $13, 900. Thats trade in. For selling outright they range is from $13,600-$16,100. This sucker is in fabulous condition (see above where I said it was only used on weekends and for personal use locally, not even back and forth to work).
I'm so pissed, I'm shaking pissed. I put it all down on paper for BigD in simple language. I told him if he thinks I am being a bitch, TOUGH. He actually listened and thanked me for giving him the facts. This is why I pay our bills, plan our vacations, etc etc. He doesn't research a fucking thing, especially when it comes to mens toys with motors...everything from cars to weed-whackers..if it's shiny and loud it MUST be a great find.
Having said that, he just drove out to go talk to *BF* and if BigD comes home in a brand new spankin leased vehicle you will hear about me on the news tonight. I will be the wife arrested for killing her husband by jamming a car up his ass.
Sunday, May 06, 2012
You waited till NOW to tell me?
So, here is the current issue. FDIL and S2 are keeping the wedding very small. Family only, on the beach, about 12 hours from here to
FDIL thanked me (we had three or four convos about this subject) and I related my own invite/don't invite wedding nightmare story (for a later date) and she said it really helped.
Last night I am talking to S1 and asked if FDIL got it all straightned out with her mom and he said no. Well, I continued to tell him that it is THEIR wedding, neither stunning mom nor HAWT dad are paying a dime towards any of it so S1 and FDIL had every right to determine who gets an invite and who doesn't. Just my opinion. I wasn't telling them what to do, just answering their question.
THEN, S1 lands the BOOM. If I had this info at the beginning when the "what should we do" question was first posed my answer would likely have been different.
Apparently, though not openly discussed, it is highly suspected that stunning mom and Sassy are *more than friends*. Yep. Apparently when HAWT dad and stunning mom were divorced and dad moved out.....Sassy moved in..... and has been a continuous presence in their world. So after S1 dating FDIL for a couple years, getting engaged, and them spending countless weekends here
If she is...... she is not only NOT out of the closet, but the door is locked with a padlock.
This is beginning to sound like a S.pringer episode.
Sunday, April 01, 2012
Day 149
On most weekends the boys come home and now they bring their girls with them. I am bitching about my kids coming home. How horrid am I??? I LOVE having them here, but with BigD not working and his retirement checks are much smaller than his paychecks were, the cost of feeding seven people is huge. Not to mention the continuously empty hot water tank from endless showers, dish-washing, laundry (they do their own but with my machine), the uptick in electric use, needing the heat in the house turned up because someone is whining they are cold (while someone else is opening a window because they are hot)......and the list goes on and on. BigD won't eat anything that is considered take-out, even veggie pizza with minimal cheese so ordering in usually isn't an option so that means trying to make enough food that there is at least one thing that every person will eat. Difficult, time consuming and expensive. When I suggest that they all go out to eat nobody wants to go citing cost (really? hmmmmm) and they eat out during the week and want to eat mom's cooking. Veiled compliments. My cooking is not outstanding, it's more likely they are cheap.
So as I mentioned BigD has been home now for 149 days. He is looking for work but with his credentials there aren't too many places to go except for some gov't agency or security at a corporate level and guess what......hey aren't jumping on hiring a 57 year old. Imagine that. So, as of midnight last night we have NO health insurance. It's insane. We still have a 22 year old and 17 year old that are likely to need medical attention (the 17 year old has to go to the doc tomorrow because I looked at his sore throat today and it sure looks like strep to me). This same 17 year old plays sports and we have never gotten through a season of anything without an injury that needs at least one x-ray or round of physical therapy. Not to mention the fact that BigD had heart surgery 130 days ago. (He recovered faster than most cases of flu. No shit.) Technically he is very healthy and is doing great but it's still scary and nauseating to think that something like that could happen now with no coverage and it would be a financial nightmare to pay for.
The worst thing of all is him being home. every. single. day. We had a MAJOR blowout a couple of weeks ago. I came completely unglued after three ten hour days at work (I literally am on my feet the entire time except for lunch) and came home to him sitting on his ass (daily routine to that point) playing word games on his phone. The dishwasher was full of clean dishes, laundry was stacked up the entire height of the washer, dog hair everywhere that needed to be vacuumed...etc etc etc. I gently asked him if he felt depressed...giving him the benefit of the doubt since he is not working, had surgery etc it would be understandable. Unfortunately for him he said with a smile "No, not at all. I feel great". That was the final stab. I lost it.
I asked if he had any idea how hard it is for me to work long hours and come home and have to do 100% of everything on the home front while he sits on his fucking phone all day. He got defensive, I got louder. He had the nerve to tell me that HE has worked all these years. I had to remind him that I worked AND raised three boys, AND kept us all afloat on our incomes, AND taken care of everything on the homefront all at the same time. He said that my *job* was easy and he would have traded with me. That's when I said a huge FUCK YOU and the gloves came off. S3 heard lots of things he shouldn't have heard. Am I proud of it? No. Am I sorry? No. All of my points were entirely valid and I am not one to say something I don't mean in the heat of the moment. I mean every word. He is a very mean, belittling arguer bringing up digs and insults that have nothing to do with the situation. BigD later told S3 that he and I both said things we didn't mean. I later told S3 that I meant every word. He smiled. He sees what his dad is and isn't doing and is learning great lessons from it. All of the boys have witnessed the inequity in the responsibilities and are well aware they need to be better husbands. If I haven't done anything else in life that I am proud of, raising my boys to be good husbands is one thing I can put a check mark by.
So for the past two weeks since the fight I have come home to the dishwasher being unloaded and reloaded (the wrong way but I rearrange because that's not a battle I want to have--but seriously, why doesn't he realize they go back in he same places they came out of??), the bed has actually been stripped twice (no clean sheets on the bed because he didn't know where they were-----same closet for the last 20 years ) and there is other evidence that for at least an hour out of the ten I am gone he has done something other than play games. It's a start.
I just really really really want the house to myself for an entire day. I am a simple woman. Let me watch a movie or a show on my very full DVR without comments like "this is a stupid show" or "that would never happen" or "why do you watch this show?". Yeah. They must be worse than the one with turtle catching man, that he watches marathons of....sigh. We have more TV's in this house than we should, yet everyone congregates in my home office to watch. I told BigD last night that I was going to watch a show I had recorded and got all of the above comments before the first commercial. It really wrecks the flow of my focus on whatever I am watching when I hear snickers, mumbled comments, and I can actually feel eye rolls. Yes. Yes I can.
I made myself a deal. When BigD lands his next gig, and I have a for certain date that will be his first day gone, I am taking the day off to celebrate. Alone.
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
JUST. SHOOT. ME.
He has been talking to all his buds at the office and hearing about all the political crap going on, people with stellar records being transferred to different divisions on a whim, grievances being filed for blatant disregard of union rules, the general pulse of the department being total shit and while he has been sharing all this with me I never expected what was about to come.
He walked in my office two weeks ago and told me "I am retiring". Okay, on the surface you would think that's not all bad. He has been in this job for over 30 years so he deserves to retire.......but this is a man that has absolutely no concept of money. I took over our finances many years ago because he never had a clue that when you get a bill it needs to be paid by a certain date or the service is discontinued. We actually had our heat turned off once. Humiliating, stupid and really hard to explain to the kids without telling them their college educated dad is a doofus. I didn't suspect the cause was lack of payment so I called a furnace guy who came out and checked the furnace and couldn't find anything wrong and jokingly asked me if we paid the bill. I got that sick feeling in my stomach but laughed and said something stupid and sent him on his way. Yep, BigD said he *thought* he paid it. It wasn't that we couldn't afford it, he just never got around to it. The man is actually two different people. The professional who is always on spot then the guy that lives in my house.
So when he tells me he is retiring I asked him what they told him at the S.tate R.etirement Board. He hadn't called them yet. I asked if we will have insurance through them. He didn't know. (reminder.....he just had a $97,000+ surgery so you never know when you will need to tap into that insurance reserve). He simply doesn't think about any of this stuff. *Someone*(another clueless individual) told him that he will get 80% of his pay for r.etirement then asked me if that would cover our expenses. Sure. But you mean after taxes right? Blank stare "I THINK so". UGH. So I called the r.etirement board, had the info sent and found out the facts.
He will get 60% of his pay of which we will be taxed at a high rate because he is still too young to retire. (before age 59 it is higher). As for health coverage, sure they will let us into the retirement group policy for a mere $1200 a month. This will kick in after we pay the first $10,000 of any medical expenses every year. (People I have been saying this for years, if you have medical coverage given to you by your employer....it's gold....say thank you and quit bitching that it doesn't cover a few little things here and there).
So needless to say BigD and I have had many discussions the past couple of weeks. Firstly I told him he shouldn't be making any life altering decisions right after a life altering surgery. Then I had to sit him down like a ten-year-old and explain addition and subtraction. Here are our standard monthly bills. Here is what our income will be. Lets see if it works. Nope. Doesn't.
He then looked at me with puppy eyes and welled up. It was heartbreaking. This is a guy that is in the dictionary under the words "man's man". Sure I have seen his soft side many times before but the last couple of years it has really been evident. He is finally telling me how much he appreciates all that I do, manage, control, organize etc etc. It's so nice to hear. Now I am wondering if I have made things too easy for him. A little like giving an alcoholic *just one* drink. I have allowed him (though as stated before--out of necessity) to skate through without a care. I get all the checks, take care of everything, and have probably given the illusion that it's easy because I am not a wavemaker. (Really :-). Well the boat is capsizing and the only thing that will save it is enough cash to plug the damn hole in the starboard side.
He has spent this last week or two putting out feelers. His pedigree is amazing. I knew he was smart --he picked me after all--but once we put together his resumé and listed all of his continuing ed courses (everything from fb.i sw(a)t, to pr,esidental sec.urity for the first George (bush, not washington) when he was in our area....BigD looks tremendous on paper. In fact, he was called back by a company that offered him $15 an hour to sit and watch a security monitor. He looked at me with those eyes that said 'should I take it' and I slowly shook my head. While he needs a j.o.b. he doesn't need to go backwards 30 years. Apparently my little math lesson made an impact.
Because of my financial queen-ness I have been able to stash away a few bucks for an emergency. I am not sure we have reached emergency status but if we do, BigD may yet be looking at a monitor.
(For those of you sitting there thinking that I am a bitch and why don't I get a better job....I actually start on Tuesday for a great team of docs. I spent the majority of my post college years raising humans and have recently found out there isn't much available in that job market so I take what I can get....also, just so you know...he has completely recovered from the surgery, so much so that he should be the poster child for by.pass surgery. He had NO issues with recovery and the doc said he is blown away by BigD's health and expects him to live another 30 years----unless I kill him of course).
Thursday, January 12, 2012
wild and wacky day
When we last spoke I was whining about the unprofessional, vibrating office. Since that time many things have happened.
BigD had his final doc appointment before being cut loose to return to life as previously scheduled. All went well and he is allowed to return to work though he has decided that another two weeks at home would be nice (just shoot me now) so he won't actually be unglued to me until the end of the month.
Before heading to his appointment I printed out my updated resumé and instead of faxing it to the office that is looking I decided to drop it off in person. They know me, but just in case they needed a facial recognition I wanted to have that going for me.
My quick in and out drop off turned into an hour long interview with three supervising staff members culminating with a job offer. The ad for the position hasn't hit the papers yet. It begins tomorrow. Yes, I know, I should have bought a lottery ticket on my way home.
The job was actually more full time than part-time so I initially turned it down, but we continued talking and they decided to fill it with two 25 hour people instead of one 40 hour person. Me being one of the 25 hour people. J.ob-sharing is a wonderful thing. We agreed on a salary, they offer free o.ptical and d.ental even for part-timers, there is a very generous u.niform allowance, 401.k, profit sharing....and the list goes on and on.
So lesson #1---if you aren't happy with where you are do something about it. Speak up. If you don't try, you will never know.
Then I called the doc I am leaving. I figured I owed it to him to explain why I was leaving and that it wasn't his fault. We talked a very loooooong time and he understands completely and said he has been trying to have changes made but his suggestions and requests are falling on deaf ears. So, like I said, sadly he is stuck.
I then called and left a message for the manager to call me back so I could tell her I wouldn't be there today (because of sickness, not because of the fact that I am quitting) and she never got the message. Ah yes. Another typical drop the ball event in that office. If I were a patient there, I would go screaming into the night. I guarantee you, someone will be misdiagnosed or a diagnosis will be missed because of the lack of follow through. Glad I won't be there to witness it.
So, she called me this morning and APOLOGIZED to me for the work conditions at the office. Doc had told her that he and I had talked so she already knew. It was nice I didn't have to tell her because I probably would have over-shared my review of the practice. This way, I could leave quietly, no fanfare, and a touch of class.
The invisible weight has been lifted from my shoulders but all the stress of the past several weeks has caught up with me and I feel like crap. I am off to find a cure for what ails me.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
dilldough and other office talk
The title actually reflects the first conversation that the office staff discussed my first day at the new job. No shit. The office is so small you can't even whisper without patients hearing and these girls are discussing their vibration devices like they were discussing mocha vs vanilla latté. There are five of us in an area suited for two. Chairs can't be slid back enough to get up without hitting the person behind you.
Yesterday the manager was on the phone YELLING at her boss with the window open and an overflow of patients in the waiting room. I made eye contact with the doc and he and I were both slackjawed during the fifteen minute phone argument. He is disgusted. I am disgusted. He is stuck. I am not. When I was just about at my breaking point (sanity wise.....I actually like the job but the drama is unbelievable) doc said to me with a glaze in his eye that he made a huge mistake joining this group. He is an employee just like me. But, I have the ability to move on and he is screwed. There are too many reasons to list here why he can't go backwards, but he can't. The ink is dry on his employee status----and they are treating him like one as well. Meetings are being held and he is not "invited" as it is a partner meeting. It has to be humiliating for him after having a successful practice for 30 years. He took some very bad advice from someone he shouldn't have listened to and joined this mega-group. As of this point, there have been no advantages for him. I take that back. No instead of being on call every other weekend, it is every third. He sold his soul to the devil for an extra weekend. He really should have done more research before making the leap. If nothing else, this is a perfect example of letting someone else make a big decision for you.
Since we are the "new guys" so to speak at the office we need to adapt to the way things are done there, which is fine, I go with the flow---except that pulling out pen.is shaped chocolate at the front desk and eating it lovingly in full view of patients is beyond my comprehension of a professional work environment.
In two days I have found out which vi.brators are the 'best'; which bars in the area have the best beer/and guys to pickup (this advice came from one of the girls that I found out yesterday is married) and apparently it is okay to yell shit when the person next to you is on the phone with a patient. I happened to be the one on the phone, not the one saying shit, just to clarify. Though there have been many moments I would have liked to yell it too.
I was telling a friend who works in a sane office how ridiculous this place is and yesterday she left me a voicemail that she mentioned to her manager my situation and the manager told her to call me and have me get my resumé to her today. They know me so I have a shot at actually being offered a position. If my charming nature and the fact that I am willing to plead on bended knee do me any good, I may be posting soon about another new job. If not, I will post the name of the best vi.brator according to the current staff.
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
doctor visit
The moment I would finally be focused on something other than my potential cancer diagnosis, he would be looking at me with his moist eyes and it would throw me right back into my own terror mode. I had to ask him over and over to PLEASE quit asking me "how are you". The odd part is that for the first half of our marriage he was very non-demonstrative and actually rather unsupportive of me. My job was never as important as his, the house was never quite clean enough, the infertility was 'my' problem and I needed to 'get over it' etc. You get the point. But, in the past few years he has found his feminine side and has been discussing feelings and has told me that he really realizes that I did an amazing job raising our children...etc. Yep, real honest to god feelings.
Part of me really likes the change. The other part....the part that is worried...wants him to shut the fuck up and go to another room. I walked into our bedroom last night and he was sitting on the bed staring at a photo of the boys and he was crying. Sweet jeebus he is lucky I didn't chuck the loaded laundry basket I was carrying right at his head.
When I am worried is doesn't help to see terror on someone elses face. I was worried all weekend that the boys would see or hear him and then they would know there was a problem and I had an issue I was checking into. I asked BigD to please not tell them. I truly think that was tough for him because he wants to 'share' his concern.
Now, keep in mind that he had surgery six weeks ago yesterday, and was home for two weeks prior to that so he has been here eight weeks and I am really ready for him to go back to work. God help me when he retires someday.
So, this morning I drove 45 miles to the big city hospital and met with the Maxillofacial Surgeon. He shot numbing spray up my nose but didn't bother to wait until it numbed before shoving a long lighted scope up into my brain (well, he stopped short of the brain, but just barely and yes it felt exactly like you think it would) He then did these amazing moves with two tongue depressors...kinda ninja like moves...holding, twisting, lifting, pushing and told me that the things I am concerned about he doesn't feel are cancer. He has no explanation for the intermittent funky smell as my max.illary sinuses look okay, the lesion on my tongue he feels is an area that healed oddly after having been lacerated (ie: bitten when I was shoveling in food at some point), and the pain along the entire rim of my tongue and the sunburn feeling on the top surface of my tongue are all non-issues. If you have any clues as to what I can do to alleviate the edge pain and/or burning feeling, feel free to share.
So, there you have it. My entire 4 day weekend sucked, I aged 50 years, had to deal with a husband that was moved to tears a.l.l.w.e.e.k.e.n.d and had to take my first day of work at a new job off because they don't call in people from their other locations for just 1/2 day so I had to take the entire day off.
This was so bad this weekend that in my imagination I was going to be the female version of R.oger E.bert (if you don't know who he is, goog his image post surgery) and had decided to make a personal video for each of the boys so they could remember not only what I looked like *before* but also hear my voice because I was certain I would lose that too.
If nothing, I have learned to stay the hell away from the computer and let someone who actually graduated with a medical degree decide my health course. But, you can bet your butt that I am going to keep an eye on my oral situation because I also know that not every doctor graduates at the top if his class. Think about it. Every graduating class has the one (or ten) that the other grads are shaking their heads about, thinking "how in the hell did he/she graduate"? I also have another appointment for a second opinion scheduled for tomorrow (made the same time I made todays appt) that I will probably keep. Crazy? Maybe, but read the second sentence of this paragraph again.
Thank you for your well wishes and kind comments. It sounds stupid because we haven't met, but it really did boost my sagging mood to read that you care.
Sunday, January 01, 2012
I don't know where to begin
2012 isn't starting out much better. I have an appointment Tues morning with a specialist in head and neck cancer. Long story short, for 6-8 months I have had a constant subtle smell that smells like a dirty ashtray or the smell you get when you first turn on your furnace in the fall. A little stale, metallic etc. Anyhooo, my doctor was on a sabbatical (ie: state mandated 90 day probation.....-she got turned into the state medical board by a pissed off wife because the doc had a fling with the pissed off wife's husband) Hey, I don't care who she bonks as long as I am not in the exam room when it happens....she is a good doc and knows her shit. Anyway, in researching this "smell" issue I have discovered that it typically happens in people that have cancer in the head and neck.
Anyway, I just tried to ignore what I thought was a sinus infection and waited till she got back. I went in got a script for an anti-biotic, which subsequently caused th.rush in my mouth. (for those of you that have little ones that get it from nursing, get it treated because it hurts. I feel terrible I never took it seriously when my guys got it--I didn't know that it made them uncomfortable). ANYWAY...she then gave me two back to back scripts for an oral medication to swish around to take it away. When it didn't really help I started looking things up. Dr. G.oogle is my friend and worst enemy.
All the while, and for up to a year I have had a little reddish/pinkish raised soft spot on my tongue that I figured was from using my tongue as a stress meter all year and smashing it against my teeth. I think I may take up nail biting instead.
After doing some research I am seriously, very seriously, concerned I have oral c.ancer. Of the dozen symptoms I have too many. I googled a photo of a tongue cancer and up popped a photo of a tongue with the same pinkish/reddish raised soft spot, in the exact area where it is prevalent, (side of the tongue in case you want to run to the bathroom and check your tongue). The photo could have been a photo of my tongue. No shit.
My tongue hurts around the entire edge, back to front to back, it has started to burn off and on, and the real kicker is that tongue cancers are squ.amous cell. If you look back to a new years post a couple years back, remember I got the call on new years eve that my "it doesn't look like anything" (according to the dermatologist) lesion came back as sq.uamous cell. If you remember it was also in an area that NEVER EVER has seen sunshine.
So, on Tuesday which is supposed to be my first day at my new job in a very face paced, high stress office, I had to tell the boss that I wouldn't be there, as I am going for a biopsy. Fuck. I am going to be tagged the problem child from day one.
So for the past week I have been crying in the shower, zoning out when I have many things to do, and thinking about the fact that if it is oral CA, according to my research it is the 6th deadliest cancer killing one person every hour and only 50% of people survive five years. Who knew?? I have a son getting married this year, I want to retire someday and take real vacations, I want to babysit for grand-kids, well---the list is longer than you can imagine. Until now the thought of looking at my tongue for anything abnormal (and who the hell knows what that means) never even crossed my mind.
BigD isn't even allowed to drive yet, in fact he isn't allowed in the front seat because of the airbag and the fact that it would rebreak his ster.num, so I will make the 45 minute drive to the doctor with BigD in the back seat and most likely we will both be a wreck. He has been crying off and on all weekend because he knows I am scared and he can't do a damn thing about it. The boys and their ladies are here and it is helping distract me, but then I look at them and feel my eyes welling up and have to head to the bathroom until the wave of fear and anxiety passes.
So, how 2012 shapes up is yet to be determined.