So On And So Forth, Whatever...

As Busy as A......

The last month has been so busy I haven't had time to do anything but work, clean house, and sleep. I don't know if I mentioned I went back to work in January. It is only a part time job but it was just enough money to fill a shortage in my budget.

Anyway, I've been adjusting to that and less time at home means, adjusting in several areas. Initially, I was just working half a day a few days a week. Two weeks ago a coworker (19 yr old who has never had a job) went into a snit and walked out so I've had to work more and longer days. I'm virtually wiped out. I told them today I simply could not work these long days after next week. The big baby will be back next week. Not my doing. If I'd been the boss, he'd be toast. I'm not. He's not.

Anyway, going back to work aggravated my already endless fatigue. I have been so exhausted for a while. In March, I finally bought something for adrenal fatigue at the health food store that seems to be working very well. I can get through the day now without passing out for four hours after only a few hours out of bed. However, the last two weeks have really caused problems with my pain and fatigue.

The net result is that I've done virtually no writing and nothing for fun. I read and watch t.v. and go to bed. I've managed to keep up with the laundry, keeping things swept and vacuumed. That's about it. With the increased pain levels I've had to start taking the steroid in the last three weeks to manage my pain.

On a more positive note, the money has made a huge impact at bill paying time. I'm so thankful for that. And I do find I like the structure better, although the 6:15 alarm is no fun. I have to be there at 7:15 and this means getting up ahead of Sarah and getting her ready for school. She's a bear most mornings. Thank goodness, Mike comes over on the days I work and gets her on the bus. But 6:15 to 5 p.m. is a long stretchThen, I have to prepare food. Lately, it is sandwiches and pizza. I have to cook tomorrow. I'm sick of junk food.

Mike got a part-time job as well about a month ago. He's been looking for a second one but has had no luck. Because of the new Indiana policy of starvation for anyone not working at least 20 hours, he won't get help with food and that's one reason I had to go to work. Since there are virtually no full-time jobs for folks with no marketable skills and disabilities such as Mike has, he's lucky to get even one job part time. Most employers have not wanted to deal with his hearing problems and the other things that accompany it. And the new "no food" policy means the small check he'll get won't cover all his food needs plus rent, medical insurance, and medicine. If he didn't have a scooter, he'd be walking to work. On icy/rainy days its bad.

Of course, if I could figure out how to make him a refugee from some terrorist country, the problem would be solved!

I'm done. There isn't really anything else to tell. I have been thinking about letting this blog go. I've been doing it since 2005 I think. Over 10 years! I don't know that anyone is really interested anyway and I'm not sure it isn't just a waste of time. I vent a lot and no one wants to hear my whining. Maybe it has served its purpose and it is time to go. I'll have to think about it. It only just occurred to me. Maybe it is time to stop.

Follow Up

Lunch With Me

A burger and a sunny day made a nice lunch.

A Crime of Stupidity

Weapon Used

So, I poked holes in my kitchen trash can. I saw this little hack online and it works really well. When I try to pull those plastic trash bags from the can I often end up fighting myself because of the vacuum seal that results between the can and bag. To prevent this, you just punch some holes in the sides of your can, a few inches from the bottom. It really works great.

I usually pour about a quarter cup of PineSol in the bottom of my can each week. It usually dries up in a day or so but it smells wonderful and when the can needs washing out, it is a much easier process. Just use your sink sprayer and put two or three cups of water in it and swish with a toilet brush, rinse, and pour the dirty water down the toilet.

Scene of the Crime

There is one inherent flaw in this process. I found it today. If you're standing at the sink, daydreaming, and use the sprayer you have to remember those holes. After work today, I took out the garbage and decided while I was filling the sink to do dishes that I'd clean the can. I happened to look down to see water spraying out of four small holes in the sides of my can. The damage wasn't serious but it did require mopping the floor a couple of times. It took a bit to sop up all the water and I had a good laugh at myself, but no harm done ... until I stepped into the den ajacent to the kitchen.

I was still wearing my work shoes, low heels, when I stepped down from a wet floor onto the dry concrete floor. My right foot was still on the step and left foot on the floor... for a second. The left foot slipped out from beneath me. I fell, the right leg bending at the knee beneath me, my body falling backward and landing on my right calf and foot. I hit  my arm just above my left elbow on the edge of the concrete step.

Fortunately, that arm and the bent leg probably kept me from hitting my neck or head on the concrete step. However, the front of my right thigh felt as if it had just undergone some sort of test to see how far it could be stretched. I remember doing something similar in aerobics or something when I was about 25. I'm not 25 now.

I struggled onto my butt from my prone position and was lucky enough to reach the house phone. I called my son, Mike because I honestly didn't think I could get up. I was wedged between the kitchen door and a desk, with one leg doubled under me and both it and my arm giving me a good dressing down.

I really believed I'd probably broken that leg but after the first wave of pain swept over me, I decided I was in better shape that I originally feared. My body began to wake up from the shock about the time Mike arrived. The arm hurt and will probably pout for a few days. The thigh still protested having to support my uh.... weight but then they usually do anyway. My upper back was annoyed I'd clinched up. Although my neck had not struck anything, it was absolutely irate at the strain I'd placed on it when my body protested falling. Everyone's a critic.

Mike was worried  and said, "Good thing you didn't break your leg." 

I looked at him. "Right, because I don't think you would take as good a care of me as I did of you."

We both laughed. He went home. I finished putting away the laundry. My leg and back were not happy, so I took a hot shower and two Tylenol. I suspect tomorrow they'll get back at me.