Some People Think It’s Cold

You know how some people think this time of year is insanely cold? They would be right, especially if they wake up after three and a half hours of sleep wondering WHY it’s so damn cold (I put the heat on 67 before going to bed, which is high for me.). After all, they ARE indoors, under the covers, in warm clothes. When I checked my thermostat yesterday morning to find out why it was so cold, and jack the heat up, it said it was 61 degrees. That’s ok for a short period of time in triple digit temperatures, but it’s like 26 degrees outside, and my internal thermostat says it’s 57. I WISH it felt like 57 degrees, but it doesn’t. It feels like frost bite is about to set it! Of course, I turned it up and the sense I had a week ago that a part was going to die on me came to life when it didn’t click on. Turning all the power off and turning everything back on didn’t help either, so that meant asking for help.

The fuses were checked and replaced. That’s a good place to start if you are relatively clueless about your HVAC system, which I absolutely am. Unfortunately, it was not the cure-all I thought, and prayed, it would be. I have a local company coming in the early afternoon to get this fucker up and running again. I am pretty sure I know what it is, and I am praying it’s an easy fix, as it was two and a half years ago in the middle of one of the hottest summers. That was my first lesson as to how these things work and it was interesting to hear the technician tell me that the part I needed is one he replaces around here “very often” because my electric company limits the amount of power each home gets during extreme temperatures. It makes sense, but having to replace it once every 2-3 years adds up. This coming year, I am going to learn how to do some of these things for myself. It’s certainly cheaper if you don’t have to call someone out to fix something. I am also going to find a quality handyman because I am utterly useless when it comes to things like electric wiring, plumbing, and fixing things I already know I am not qualified to fix.

Extreme temperatures and I have never done well. Summers have always killed me (even as a child), but with Fibromyalgia, as I get older, it hurts so much more to endure the extremes. I have several layers of clothing on and they will remain snug until the heat goes back on. Pray for me.

If you saw the insane amount of blankets on my bed and wrapped around me, you’d think this part Siberian chick was actually IN Siberia. If I could find earmuffs right now, I’d be wearing them with absolutely no shame.

If someone passes the freezer, kindly hand me the Svedka. Thank you.

UPDATE: It was 51 degrees inside when I woke up this morning. It’s 20 degrees outside and will eventually reach into minus temperatures. Plus, a good 4 inches of snow and minus temps are expected here Thursday. UHHHH! When everything is good, I am thawing out in hot water until I use all of it up.

Missing In Action…Of Cats And Men

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I’ve definitely been ‘Missing In Action’ for a bit, and for that I apologize. This is a particularly difficult time of year for me to start with, made harder by the fact that I’m going through some unhappy things in my daily life, and to add insult to injury, I am coming down with something. The severe temperature drop after the second round of snow hit me like a ton of bricks, and we’re about to get more snow. I was so completely out of it for a while, and I’m slowly trying to get myself back to a place of not wanting to sleep 18 hours a day. Top that off with the fact that I am showing signs of severe allergy to my kitten (Shh,. don’t tell her, she’d be heartbroken.)! The allergic reaction is slowly starting to heal, and I am praying that’s ALL it was, though I strongly suspect she was not fully treated for something at the shelter and I caught it. Lucky me! Who knew how many weird things could be passed from cat to human?! Normally I’m the one calling my vet to make sure I can’t accidentally give the cat whatever I happen to have. Setting aside the fact that I suffer from migraines and Fibromyalgia, I am actually pretty healthy, but every once in a while something weird rears its ugly head and knocks me out for a while. I have wanted to do nothing, but sleep and rest my pained body this week.

On an entertaining note, I get a phone call at 4:30 this morning from an, as yet, unidentified male in my life. I want to sell him on Ebay at this point, especially after this morning’s antics.

I have been utterly hounded by this person for the past three and a half days over what they should or should not wear to a job interview. How many times can one try on a suit for me with different shirts after I have repeatedly said “Solid white or cream colored shirt. Solid colored tie.” That’s the most simple, direct instruction in the world, right? With a black pinstripe suit, too many additional lines is overkill, yes?

At exactly 10:45 this morning, while I was sleeping no less, a striped white shirt and striped tie were unceremoniously shoved in my face with the question “These are good, right?” Why the fuck did you ask me AT ALL if you were just going to do what you usually do, which is NOT LISTEN?! I responded by saying, not in my most polite of tones, “I said to get a plain shirt and a solid colored tie. I said it repeatedly. What part of that did you not understand? By the way, I am SLEEPING. I will deal with you later.” I might have even said “Get the fuck out of my face right now.”, which is about as kind as I can be when you’re disrupting my sleep with nonsense that could have waited until I was my normal, functioning self. I admit, my “normal, functioning self” isn’t the textbook version of “normal”, but hey, he knows me well enough to know NOT to pull these stunts.

Men, I am going to give you severely important advice right now, so listen closely. Do not EVER ask a woman if she’s “on her period” simply because she doesn’t give you a sweet, loving response on no sleep. I’m not your mother. I do not have to pick out your clothes for you, wipe your ass, change your diaper, or anything else a mother would do for you. I am also NOT a bitch simply because you chose the wrong time to approach me with what is somehow SO unbelievably important that you feel the need to call me at 4:30 in the morning, later agreeing that I should go with you in a day or two to pick out the shirt and tie so that you will look nice, and then getting a hair up your ass and doing the wrong thing, only to wake me with said items about four inches from my face. The lines were so distracting, I’ve never seen a cat take off so fast in my life! She was laying here so innocently getting her beauty rest when, she too, is barraged by fashion. I haven’t seen the poor thing since!

In all honesty, I think she’s still scarred from the hour or so she spent in the laundry room this morning after my 4:30 phone call. I warned her not to follow me, I even shooed her out of the room several times as I was putting my stuff into the dryer. I went back to what I was doing after that, but about 40 minutes later, I couldn’t find her. I walked around calling for her, because she comes trotting in my direction from wherever she may have been or goes flying after me when she hears my voice. She doesn’t respond so much to her name, as she does to the fact that she hears me and knows she is being summoned to follow when she hears me say “Where’s Mommy’s baby? I can’t find you.” Or she just hears my voice and comes running for the sake of getting to run around like a hell hound, who knows.

Now normally, I don’t go back into the laundry room once the dryer is finished because I know my stuff is dry and these particular items did not need to be folded or require any immediate after care. I only went in because I’d washed one of my football jackets and wanted to be 100% sure that sucker was dry. I didn’t want to have to re-wash it because I walked away too quickly. Mind you, this little baby is still very small and does not have a real voice yet. She has a barely audible squeak, and you only hear it if she does it right at you or you are really quiet and happen to hear her voicing her issues, whatever those issues may be at any given moment. I opened the door and she came flying out, running into my arms for warmth and safety. The laundry room is the only unheated room in the house. My guess is that is the case because it was added on to the house, and is not a part of the original structure. This is precisely why I didn’t want her in there to begin with. There’s always something dangerous that someone so tiny can get into, and by the way she has been following me around since “the ordeal”, I’m praying she learned her lesson and will never do that again. I spent the entire time calling for her and honestly thought she was under the bed or in another room ignoring me, as she is wont to do at times. As loving, needy, sweet, playful, and affectionate as she is, she is also an independent seeker of trouble. I say “No!” roughly 100 times a day, or more. Now that I think about it, it’s similar to how I talk to unidentified male. Coincidence? I think NOT. On the plus side, at least she’s civilized.

A Blessing…

A Blessing

“For Equilibrium, a Blessing:

Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the relief of laughter rinse through your soul.

As the wind loves to call things to dance,
May your gravity by lightened by grace.

Like the dignity of moonlight restoring the earth,
May your thoughts incline with reverence and respect.

As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.

As silence smiles on the other side of what’s said,
May your sense of irony bring perspective.

As time remains free of all that it frames,
May your mind stay clear of all it names.

May your prayer of listening deepen enough
to hear in the depths the laughter of god.”  ―John O’Donohue  

Patience…

Patience

“Patience is power. Patience is not an absence of action; rather it is “timing”. It waits on the right time to act, for the right principles, and in the right way.”  ―Fulton J. Sheen

At least a dozen or more times a week, I am reminded how impatient I am. I can’t even wait for someone else to be ready to do something, I’ll start pacing like a tiger in a cage. I try to read and distract myself, but I feel like time is of the essence and I hate wasting it. Being sick and waiting for pain to ease doesn’t help matters when you’re impatient, exhausted, and stressed beyond words. I am sure my breaking point is coming, and when it does, I hope people are smart enough to duck.