Yesterday I signed my own death warrant

Also known as joining a gym. Not only did I join a gym, but I prepaid for 4 months because we are moving, and they usually only do 1 or 2 year contracts. The exception: military. Thank you Anytime Fitness. I really wanted to wait procrastinate until we moved...got a house...unpacked...settled...died to join a gym, but since the gym was willing to work with our short term status they took away my second best excuse (first best being this pesky herniated disk that refuses to heal).

Today I took the first steps (no pun intended)to serve that warrant. I actually went to the gym. Wisely, (<--- I don't get to say that much), I went immediately after dropping Brendan off at the fire station. Do not go home. Do not use brain cells. Only listen to the radio and drive blindly to the gym or torture chamber. You choose. It is only semantics anyway. I managed to survive 15 minutes on the elliptical. My heart rate was too high at 195, so my mini goal right now is to work up to 20 minutes by Monday, and to get my heart rate down. I'm not sure what is a reasonable time for that one, though, so I will go will by the end of next week. Hmmm. I will have to do some research on that one.

So far the gym costs are $285 per visit. I guess I will have to go more because, well I don't know anyone who gets paid $1200 per hour - much less anyone living in this house!

Lean on What???!

Proverbs 3: 5-6 “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths.”

We hear this verse so often, that it has almost become cliché. You find it printed on calendars, pens and dish towels. It is repeated often when it is “your path”. You don't hear it so often when it is “My path.”

With Michael retiring from the Air Force in just a few months, we have had to make some quick decisions without a lot of information, and it is really just starting. Michael has been applying for jobs left and right. He wants to continue working for the government, so that means his applications have been all over the US. The problem with applying all over the US is that you are applying ALL over the US. Which means even more decisions.

Our first big decision came just before Christmas with a job offer in Alaska. Prior to this he has been too far out from actual retirement for a position to be held for him. Now we had to face the reality of moving about as far away from our family as physically possible and still be in the same country. On the plus side the pay was right, it would get his foot in the door for a government job, and we could leisurely explore a beautiful state. On the negative side, our families would be far away, and it would not be a quick car ride to get to them if we needed to, and our almost 18 year old son pretty much insisted he would not go to Alaska—whether that would hold true in actuality depended on his ability to...I don't know...get a JOB! Another big negative...We had only ½ of a day to make a decision. That is not a lot of time to decide to uproot your entire family and move several thousand miles away to an area that you are not at familiar with. After a brief time in prayer and a walk or two around the block we decided to turn down the position.

After that Michael only applied for jobs in areas we would actually be willing to move to. This brings us to the next few applications Las Vegas, Charleston, San Antonio and Columbus, MS. We were really hoping for Charleston or Columbus, preferably Columbus. It would be almost perfect, and when I reasoned it out in my head it made perfect sense. It was closer to my cousin's house. The housing was relatively inexpensive, same pay as the Alaska job, and it was a position that Michael would have some authority in. See? Just right. You know other than Moody or Vandenberg, but they don't have openings right now.

Enter: the week before last. Michael gets an email that the positions in San Antonio and Columbus have closed out and his application was forwarded to the hiring authority. On Wednesday Brendan goes to youth group, and they do a talk about Proverbs 3: 5-6. Okay, nothing unusual. No flags here. Then comes Thursday...starting to do homework for Beth Moore's Esther study that I am doing, before I start I start thinking about the 2 applications that have been forwarded. What if he was offered the job in San Antonio, but the job in Mississippi was still pending? How would we decide whether to take the job or not? We don't want to keep turn down work in this economy hoping for the “perfect job”.

So, I decided to pray that if the Mississippi job was the right job for our family that they would contact Michael first. Then “that the right job would contact us soon. Maybe even this morning.” I went on to pray that I would be open to where God wants us to be. This is not a prayer to be taken lightly, and I didn't. I knew going into it that I was opening myself up to a result that I did not necessarily want.

Not 10 minutes later Michael calls. It turns out that he asked his boss if he would call the person hiring in Mississippi to put in a word for him. His response? Sure I could do that, but last night I was called by the person hiring in South Dakota, and he wants to hire you. There is a bit of back story to this. Ever since Michael was stationed in South Dakota he has wanted to go back. While we were there people were talking about retiring. Now, 5 years later someone is retiring, and retiring right when Michael is looking for a job.

So, leaning on my understanding, Mississippi is perfect, but apparently God has other plans. More evidence? The Michael's application was forwarded to the Charleston job and the same day someone else was selected. That means they already had someone in mind when they put out the job announcement—not entirely uncommon, and...we have heard nothing from Mississippi or San Antonio, and to top it all off, the Las Vegas job was canceled all together. Oh, the job that was supposed to open up here in January? Rumor has it the position will not be filled.

Could I be reading the situation totally wrong? Of course, but at this point in time it appears that all roads lead to South Dakota. Hmmm...take that Rome.

Really, Louisiana??

I have always heard stories of cities shutting down because of bad weather. Bad weather being relative to the area. I've live in places where schools were shut down because of the threat of snow, and having just moved from South Dakota, I was not impressed.

Obviously, though, they had to take into account the areas ability to clear the roads, and, I hope, the bus drivers' and others' ability to drive in ice and snow, so while South Dakota would have scoffed, it was probably best for Virginia.

Louisiana, however, takes the cake! Today we are in a winter storm warning status. When we woke up this morning there was some sleet, and a little ice on the sidewalks. The road were wet. Brendan was scheduled for his first behind the wheel driving class at 8:00 am. At 7:30 the instructor called to see if we still wanted him to drive today. Since it wasn't too bad. The roads were not icy, and visibility was good we decided to let him go ahead and drive.

While Brendan was in his 2 hour driving class, Michael and I went to breakfast. The couple behind us was talking about how they went to church, but services were canceled due to weather. The waitresses were talking to regulars about staying home if you don't need to go out, and one person mentioned that interstate 220 was closed. No way! We had to have heard that wrong. Maybe there was an accident, and a lane was closed. Surely they had not closed an interstate when the only thing going on so far was sleet that had already changed to rain.

After eating breakfast we made a quick trip to Lowes to pick up some materials for a project I am working on, and then decided to run home for a few minutes before driving back to pick up Brendan. Near Lowes is the entrance to the 220. That is when we saw it. A sign, “Road Closed”. Really, road closed. We just about fell off of our seats. Good thing we had on our seat belts. This road is a 17 to 18 mile bypass around Shreveport. It is pretty much a straight shot—well, a giant curve shot that seems straight because the curve is so wide. It actually seems more dangerous to have that road closed since now you have more stops and traffic on wet roads to get from Haughton to Bossier to Shreveport.

After we picked up Brendan we went to the Dollar Tree to pick up some newspapers. They were supposed to be open, but the key holder wasn't there, yet. Why? Because 220 was closed, and she had to find a way through city streets to work. After we finally got in, the shelves where food goes were almost empty. Really empty.

I understand wanting to be prepared. I understand wanting to stay home in cold, bad weather, but really. It is not that bad. No need to panic people. Can I just say, I am sooo happy to not be working in grocery right now?!

At this rate, I am expecting a school closing announcement for tomorrow by dinner time tonight!

BTW: Brendan, did great. He was worn out after 2 straight hours of driving, and had no desire to drive home, but he felt good about it, and the instructor only gave us a couple things for him to work on between now and his next class.

I'm Not the Only One Who Has Blonde Moments

I have a habit of speaking before thinking things through. I also tend to be a bit on the gullible side.

Case in point: In high school I was on the swim team. My boyfriend was on the track team. One day he was telling me about track meets, and somehow the conversation came around to the people needed to run a meet. He was listing off volunteer positions, and in the middle of the list said, "javelin catchers". I stopped him there, but not for the reason you would think...Not to tell him there was no such thing, but to ask him how that was fair. "But if they catch the javelin, how do they know it wasn't going to go further, and what if one javelin catcher is taller than the other? If one is taller then he can catch the javelin sooner." Yeah, really, I was that gullible.

These type moments happen so often that one time my husband, who is almost a foot taller than me, was standing over my head examining my hair. My very brunette hair. After a few seconds, I stopped talking and asked, "What ARE you doing?!" His answer? "Looking for the blonde roots."

But last night was his moment to shine. SHINE, I tell you. This year, thanks to my "Aunt" Becky we bought a remote control to turn on and off the Christmas tree lights. As we were shutting down the lights to go to bed, Michael tells me, "I really like that remote. I wonder if we can get one for other things like lamps." I told him you can hook up anything you plug in. He says, "Cool, you mean we can hook up a remote for the TV?"...Oh, yes he did! I was like, "What did you just say?" Then he tried to play it off. "Oh, nothing." Uh Huh...Too late now. I heard you.

Finally! I'm not the only one with the ditzy, did I just really say that moments.

Do NOT forget to take your Cymbalta!

I am miserable. Probably not what you wanted to read, huh?

The night before last I forgot to take my meds. I remembered after I was in bed and almost asleep. I didn't think too much of it. Then I forgot to take it altogether yesterday. Probably just the busyness of the year. Again, I remembered in the middle of the night. This morning I woke up and had to rush out the door. I didn't even eat any breakfast. I was still ok. Just ok. I was in pain. I couldn't sleep much last night because I was hurting so much from the fibromyalgia. Hips, legs, back, neck. They all hurt. And they hurt to the point of keeping me awake.

When we got to where we were going I noticed a sharp pain shooting horizontally through my calf with each step. I tried to tough it out. The pain slowly spread to my feet and back. Then I got "stuck" in between 2 people at a store, and had an overwhelming feeling of just feeling trapped. I caught a glance of myself in a mirror. I did not like what I saw. I basically just lost it. It was too much. There is a reason they tell you not to stop taking Cymbalta and Lyrica cold turkey, and today I lived that.

When we finally got home I went straight in, took my medication and topped it off with a muscle relaxer to try to counteract the pain. Then I took a 3 hour nap. Since then the physical pain has lessoned, but I have been on the verge of tears all night.

So basically this is a cautionary tale. If you are prescribed Cymbalta and Lyrica, make sure you don't miss your doses. Be careful to not be lulled into a "I feel good. I must be doing better, so it will be ok." state of mind. Even if you have to get up out of bed at 3am, take them.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better!

How I Know God has a Sense of Humor

We always hear about God having a sense of humor. I mean have you seen a turkey...or an ostrich...a baboon? But I have proof that is a bit closer to home. Me and my husband. Only an innate sense of humor would have ever put us together. We could not be more opposite. I am convinced that when people get bored up in heaven God says, “Wait! Look! Look right down there. In Louisiana. No not there-- right next to Texas.” And then He flips on the movie projector of our life.

First of all, all you have to do is look at us, and you will get your first clue. I am short, very short, and on top of that I have short legs even for my height. Michael is tall. Almost a foot taller than me, and he has long legs. Like runner's legs. Not me. I have walk really slow legs. When we walk together, if he is walking at normal speed I have to just about jog to keep up. That came in very handy when I was working retail, since I often had to hustle, and I was already in practice.

Next, look at our work space. Michael is a pile-er. He has stacks of what I am convinced is trash EVERYWHERE, and it is all askew. Folders, papers, post-its. They cover every square inch of his desk. My desk? Clear. If I have several things to do, they are in one stack with the most pressing at the top of the pile. That way I can work my way down. Need a pen? I can show you right where it is, but I won't need to because you will be able to see it all on your own. My bulletin board? It consists of only clear tacks with 3x5 cards placed straight down and across—evenly spaced. Oh, that 3x5 card is messed up? Don't put it back. I will rewrite a new one. In the same color ink as the others.

Closets? His: just hang the clothes on the pole. As long as they are not on the floor—we're good. Mine: Pants on one rod, separated by type and color. Shirts? Organized by color according to the spectrum of the rainbow, within each color the shirts are then separated by sleeve length.

Housecleaning? Me? I start at the top and work my way down to the floor and out of the room. I get corners, behind objects: I lift the cook top to get underneath. Him: (looking at stove) “That comes up?!”

Vehicles? Mine: Don't leave anything in it. Other than a bag of recyclable bags in the back. His? Need a place to sit? “Just toss all those papers in the backseat. I'll get them when I sell the car.”

You get the idea. This makes for some interesting “conversations” at our house, especially if someone is coming over.

I spent the first 10 years of our marriage going behind him to apologize. “No really, he didn't mean that the way it sounded.” I mean, the man has NO tact. None. On top of that I seem to be super aware of other people's perceptions, so I am always trying to fix things. I finally just gave up because, well, did I mention he has long legs? He can cover a lot more ground than I can, and it's just tiring.

But, in spite of all these differences (I could go on, but the internet is only so big), I love him, and he loves me—even though my pickiness drives him up a wall. That's ok, though, that's why he has a job. God must have a sense of humor because if He didn't He would have never put us together, and he certainly wouldn't have known how much of a sense of humor to give us, so that we could put up with each other without involving bloodletting in some shape or form.

When Your Internal Clock is Off...WAY Off

In the beginning of July I hurt my back. I hurt it bad enough that for the next 2 to 3 days I lived on painkillers, muscle relaxers, ice packs and heating pads. Ever since then I have had trouble sleeping. Before this happened I was coming off of an early morning work schedule. I had to be at work at 6 am, so even though I had stopped working a couple of months prior to our move, I was still up and around by 7 am. After living on painkillers for several days, painkillers that completely knocked me out, I was going to bed late, and waking up later.

Since then I have tried forcing myself to go to sleep earlier. Result: me tossing and turning until 4 am. Did you know that if you hold your hand up to the light of your alarm clock your nails look like you have a blue french manicure? Neither did I. I do now.

I tried just laying down a couple of hours before I wanted to fall asleep and reading myself to sleep: Result: an out of control book budget. I can read for hours. I can read fast. Reading for hours just results in more books read, not earlier sleep.

I tried forcing myself to get up super early, so I would be tired at a normal bedtime. Result: falling asleep for 3 hours in the middle of the afternoon. There is only so much the human body can do on 2 hours of sleep when there is no adrenaline involved, and apparently all this human body can do is stare uncomprehendingly at the television, or, I don't know, the WALL, until the will to stay awake loses to the force that is “The Sandman”.

I even tried over the counter sleeping pills. Do you know what those things are??? Benedryl. Do you know what Benedryl does to me? It knocks; me out, just like the painkillers. The problem? The painkillers and the sleeping pills knock me out for waaaay too long. Then when I am finally able to move the lead weights that are my arms and legs, I am groggy. Super groggy. That results in absolutely nothing getting done.

So, I am back to just kind of hoping I will miraculously start to get tired at a normal, reasonable hour. That results in days like today.

Get up very late.

Feel guilty for getting up late even though I slept for a very normal 8 hours—almost to the minute.

Have a general feeling of lethargy all day long while trying to convince myself to get some chores done.

Start becoming clear minded at about 9 pm.

Between 11 pm and 12:30 am:
Complete 2 loads of laundry, including ironing.
Vacuum carpets
Sweep and mop kitchen, entry way and bathrooms
Clean master bathroom
Hang pictures
Write blog post
Screw down door organizer in pantry
Feel really, really awake!! REALLY awake!
Give up on ever sleeping again.

Around 3 am decide to read in bed by the light of my cell phone.

4-4:30 am Finally fall asleep.

Start all over again.

I am really starting to wonder if God is trying to tell me that my next job will be the night shift!