Of course my kid would choose and get accepted to a private college, out of state.
Offfffff course it would cost 40k a year. Of course. Even with the college fund and my savings – it’s a four year program. sigh (that’s after the massive scholarship).
Maybe I should learn to make penis socks.
Stand on the corner maybe? I think I’m too old to get on the pole.
I never asked my kid’s bio father for child support. Man am I kicking myself now. Kidding. Fucking that.
Even if I kick the bucket right now, my life insurance would only cover two years of school. LOL
What if I start an OnlyFans of me sitting in the backyard reading aloud nineteenth-century literature? Because really I feel like that’s all I am capable of.
Grief is a weird thing. It looks different on everyone.
Recently, I lost a friend from work. She was an amazing human. Always had an answer and a smile. She was always helpful. Even when the pandemic made it hard to be.
I took it pretty hard. My better half must have known. Came home with a pretty blue bag filled with “The stages of grief”. It was literally a bag of pastries. Each one names after a stage. I laughed so hard.
I ate “Anger” for dinner that night, funny enough.
“Depression” was amazing. But, “Bargaining” , “Bargaining” couldn’t have been any better.
I guess what I am trying to say is get yourself a partner that will bring you a little blue bag of feelings when you’re sad. Hahahah.
That moment you go read the blog of someone who liked your post, only to find that they, um. They must not be familiar with your blog. Like, this person must have just been randomly clicking to drum up their views because I can assure you from their page…..uh, they um. Would not like me. LMAO.
I clicked on their page and immediately was like “OOOOhhhhh I have taken a wrong turn. WRONG TURN!” lololol and then I thought “What the hell are YOU doing on my page?” Hahahah.
But, for the record all are safe here.
Well. I mean. If you are a pedo or a racist you aren’t, but everyone else for the most part. LOLOL.
So just as a reminder: #BLM #LoveIsLove #DontBeAnAssHole
I’m killing time at Whole Foods. Spoiler Alert: I do not look like I belong here. lol
I have to go to the pet store annnnnnd it doesn’t open until 9am. My Poptart needs worms.
I am trying to be good and didn’t get coffee. I grabbed some Peach Ginger Pear Tea Weirdness and am sitting here trying to be patient. BUT MY TEA IS PISSING ME OFF. The bags have these cute little leafs instead of squares. BUT THEY ARE DRIPPING.
AAHAHAHAHAHAH. I am done for today. I. AM. SO. AMUSED.
So, earlier I was standing at my stove waiting for my water to boil while eating a left over quesadilla. I get this, like, shock to my entire jaw when I first bite into food. It’s so painful. It’s been that way as long as I can remember. Howevvvvvvver that’s not saying much as we all know my memory. Annnyyyyyywayyyyy. It suddenly hit me that maybe its not normal? LOL. Everyone feels like they’re getting punched in the face every time they eat, right? RIGHT?!
Turns out, nope. Nope, everyone does not feel like they are getting punch in the face when they eat. Ok, but that’s not the part that caught my attention (wait for it). So I looked it up. It’s called “first bite syndrome” (wait for it. Also, accurate naming doctor people, great job). It’s damage, usually as a complication to surgery, to the sympathetic innervation of the parotid gland leading to parasympathetic overactivity (waaaaaait for it). It can also be caused by tumors. Getting First bite syndrome is apparently very rare (wait for it). However, have no fear there are treatments!
THERE IT IS! BOTULINUM. hahahaha I’m dead. Offfff Course that’s that answer. That is enough of the interwebs for me.
I’ve worked a full (overnight) shift and now have to drive 3 hours to bring my kid to prom. (PROM. You guys remember when this kid was just a wee thing right? Ahhhhhh!) Prom doesn’t quite look like I thought it would. But, I’m super proud regardless.
Pheonix has been following me around everywhere. She’s getting old. Aren’t we all. My kid will be 18 this year. I can’t believe it.
Anyone order a Breakthrough PTSD episode? Anyone? No? Must have been me.
It’s my own fault. I got cocky. I poked the bear too many times in too short of a time period. Coming back here. Reading old entries. Allowing my brain the open that file again. Looking at things I usually avoid.
Cleaning my room out, trying to get rid of things. Somehow my oldest computer is out and my kid is calling my name. I look up and “I found something”. The look on my kid’s face. Sigh.
It was in the disc drive of the computer I’ve avoided for years.
I’m a crying mess. I haven’t been like this in over two years. Turns out I’m not better, I’m just busy. Hahahah. Fuck. FUCK.
Now I’m sleeping (not sleeping at all) next to my laundry because cleaning came to a screeching hault.
Can we not? Can we not do this? Fuckkkkkkkk. It’s 3:56am and I have to be up at 9 for the kid’s ortho and then work. The sky was weird today; I knew I shouldn’t have pushed my luck.
Holy shit. It’s Friday. I’m wrapped in a burrito blanket (like for real, a burrito blanket. I have two and refuse to sleep without at least one) drinking wine. This week has been fucking brutal. Half my team….. Sigh….nevermind; You’d would have no idea what I was talking about as I haven’t filled you all in on my life.
I’ve been getting a lot of questions about my life and my son since I’ve been gone, since the pandemic. So let’s start here: I work in one of the largest hospitals in the area. The pandemic and I reported for duty the same month. Lmao. I took the job as a side job to the job I already had and to test my brain. If you have been with me over the last 10 years, hospitals used to set off my PTSD. I figured I’d either crumple like a Kmart lawn chair, or stomp my ass forward.
I did both. Crumpled during training. Oh. It was bad. I fell on my face. My body and mind rebelled. I took a week off. I yelled at myself and went back. Then I was good. I was good. Yeah, I was good till I had to report to a trauma room in the ED (ER). Did you know they use the same wooden cabinets in most trauma ED rooms? Yeah, I didn’t either. I looked over at those cabinets and I swear to the stars they looked back. Like they were saying “hey bitch, remember me?”. Oh. I remembered them. I did. I remembered. Good thing Adrenaline kicked in to save me from PTSD so I could focus on the patient in front of me. You know, Trauma room. Ha. And that’s how I powered through every day. PTSD creeping up until Adrenaline focused my attention…. Until I started reporting to ICU. ICU. Sigh. Just arriving on the unit caused PTSD to stand up and get ready to fuck shit up. The first several patients I took care of had her face. They really did. They had her face until one of them coded on me. Then I could see the patient’s face clearly. Turns out, I still perform well under pressure. (Pretty sure this is the only thing I’m good at. Have I every told you guys the story of how my new born tried to die on me while I was bleaching my sister’s hair and I managed to keep him alive and pull the chemicals out of her hair so it didn’t literally burn her hair and scalp off? Lol). A week later a guy coded in my arms. I remember his face clearly.
They stopped having her face after that.
And then, then Covid-19 descended upon us and I couldnt look away. I was in constant high alert. PTSD didn’t even have a chance, Adrenaline took over as soon as I stepped foot into the building. I headed the Covid-19 team for my department and that’s all I did. All day.
About a month into the Pandemic I took advantage and weened myself off the PTSD meds, all of them. While PTSD was pinned to a wall by Adrenaline I figured then was my only chance. It was risky, I had no idea what I was doing but I had this urge that felt like my chest would explode if I didn’t try. . Looking back, ohhhhhh mannnnnn that could have gone sideways in so many ways. Haha. I’m so glad I did it. I’ve been med free since then after more years than I can count.
I ran straight into the center of Covid, I did overtime on top of overtime. At one point, I was the only one left standing when covid took out every single person on my team. I kept on trucking. I volunteered everyday to work with covid patients. I swear I lived at that hospital. Within three months I made permanent (unheard of at the time for my department) within 6 months I was training our new hires to help our Trainer. Shortly after, I became the Trainer for my entire department. Now, I’m a Lead, the Trainer, and the Safety Coach for my department.
I guess what I’m getting at is I’ve worked through COVID-19 since the beginning. I’ve seen some shit. I’ve seen shit go sideways and then do the Morbid Macarena. And this week, this week has been the worst. I’ve never seen so many positive Covid-19 patients. It’s a sea of Red Precautions in our ED (Red airborne signs in the ED). Basically I’ve lived in my Capr; Shit show for sure. Half my team is down due to COVID-19, again. This week has been fucking brutal. So, back to being wrapped up in a burrito drinking wine.
My Capr. 07.28.21
WARNING: Covid-19 Karen behavior will absolutely not be tolerated. I swear to the stars if I get any comments: “Covid-19 isn’t real, it’s a scam, blah blah” or whatever uneducated keyboard warrior bullshit people are spewing I will delete you so fast it will make your head spin to Mars. Then, I won’t think about you again until im calling a code on your infected ass.
Stay safe guys. Wash your hands. Don’t lick any toilet bowls. You know, behave.
