The Last Train to Funkytown

I know. I just combined two song titles. So sue me.

First, this blog is suddenly taking matters into its own hands. It keeps changing the comments section and asking for moderation of comments. Grrr. I change it back, and it gets all fissy. So not going to deal with it right now.

I accidentally left the gate open and Trent got out last night. I was traumatized. It was 9:00 PM, pitch dark and we live near two busy streets. DH was at him mom's house 40 minutes away so I was by myself. Nothing like trying to find a little black dog in the dark. After about fifteen minutes of searching with DH's mag light and strange looks from the neighbors, I spotted him trotting back into our front yard. Coming from the direction of one of the busy streets. He actually came when I called him. I checked him out and he seems to be ok. I got him back inside and promptly locked all the doors (and the gate) so he couldn't give me a second coronary for the night. Then I had to call DH to let him know Trent was OK, as he was having flashbacks to when his last dog got hit by a car. Stupid dog. He's grounded.

Then after all the night's adventures, DH decided to live on the wildside and eat a sandwich with mayo without first checking the expiration date. Yep, it was a few months past Funkytown, so he was up half the night with food poisoning.

You see, this is why I avoid mayo at all costs. I am convinced it's sole purpose is to make people sick. Mayo, get thee away from me. Yeech.

And finally some good news: the co-worker of mine that was on medical leave is coming back. Relief is in sight. I'd do a happy dance except I'm afraid I'd knock over one of the piles of paper surrounding my desk.

I'm here. I'm alive. Trent's OK. DH will be OK.

Second verse, same as the first

Argh. Still insanely busy, plus I decided to succomb to a nasty little stomach bug over the weekend. I'm better now. I've progressed to crackers with my soup.

I'm still around. I'm still peeking in at the B&G blog.

However, I'd give my right arm for someone to help with filing right now. My left arm is currently occupied with an IV for chocolate syrup.

Hope to have more soon.

Welcome to Acksville

Yep, still buried at work.

Still horribly understaffed.

Still underpaid.

Still hoping there will be a bonus at the end of this mess.

Ack.

That's for all you Bill The Cat fans out there.

It also sums up my day/week/month so far.

Not only am I trying to do the work of three people, but I've been told to train the new person too.

Riiiiight.

People in my department give me a worried look whenever I leave the building for lunch. Like they are afraid I won't come back.

Not that that idea doesn't have merit, but ...

I really do try to leave a place a little better than when I arrived. Silly me.

Argh.

Lost Treasure, First Snow, Inigo Montoya and Shipping My Sister to Ohio

On to better things, right?

We moved into our rental house almost a year ago and we are still going through boxes. Most of it's paper because I am the world's worst filer ever. At home that is. Because at work I'm pretty up on it all.

Anyway, DH found some papers of mine that had fallen out of a file. They were short scenes and story ideas. Since I'm currently out of my TBR (to be read) pile, I've been going through them.

Some are really, really bad. Some are "Hmm. Watch CSI much?" Others are "What were you reading when you came up with that?" And there was one "OHMYGOD, don't let DSS see this." Heck, I'd be embarrassed to have DH read that scene, and trust me, he'd probably be interested.

But my favorite finds were those little golden nuggets, those scenes of "so THAT'S where that went," those little sparks that helped me flesh out the characters of my manuscript. While most will never see the light of day, some scenes are like my own personal chapters of a day in the life of my book.

Other stuff: Stressors are high lately, so I was over the moon to see that the Princess Bride was on TV. I watched it again - twice.

We finally got snow - and naturally everyone freaked. You know, "the sky is falling" mentality. Gee, I'm glad we didn't get more than an inch of the white stuff. Of course, I grew up in a lake effect area off Lake Michigan and I think most of the drivers around here are a bunch of weenies. I got my driver's license in the dead of winter. And don't get me started on whoever is in charge of plowing the roads. When I first moved here, I swore everyone was a transplant from the south. If you begin to slide, your car becomes a big comfy toboggan. So remember your sledding skills. Of course, you can't really bail if things start to go south ...

Sister #1 just found out she has one week to relocate to Dayton, Ohio. Since I think she's past the major freak-out over the weekend, I think she'll be OK now. But if anyone is from the area and has any suggestions for someone new to Ohio, things to do, places to see, things to avoid, please drop me a line and I'll pass it along.

Soylent Green Is People

I seem to be bringing out the big guns today, people. I'm stressed. Majorly stressed. Just name the main biggies that cause stress and I'm there.

I pulled a muscle in my shoulder and for a moment I thought, "Is that a shooting pain down my arm?" I'm the first to admit I'm in lousy physical shape: seriously overweight, diabetic, high blood pressure, prone to an occasional anxiety fit, and my foot hurts. Little wonder I think I could be on track for a heart attack in my 30s.

DH is stressed too. The bad thing is, usually I don't find out how much he's churned up inside until he's sick from it. He doesn't want to worry me. The bad thing is I do the exact same thing. No wonder we are both going gray.

I hate stress.

One of the things I due to combat it is use humor. Sometimes I crave it like a drug. I'll watch "Whose Line is it Anyway?" for hours. I've been spending a whole lot of time on the He Wrote/She Wrote Blog, looking for that *snort* that I love. I'll pull out old comic books, a light romantic comedy, my Stephanie Plum novels any thing to help get me through.

I've been typing "Ohm" a lot. Sometimes I write it tongue in cheek, but usually it is more of a tip of the hat because I really think meditation works. I was raised catholic. Prayer and meditation, no matter how you do it, can help reduce stress and put you in a more relaxed state of mind. That and I like the sound of it.

Oooohmmmm. See? I feel a little better already.

You're Gonna Need a Bigger Boat.

(From Jaws)

It’s Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. How appropriate since my boat is leaking metaphorically speaking and I’m about to be sucked under a wave of paperwork at work. At least it is a WHOLE lot better than the last place I worked (of ye ol ‘Approved for Termination’ fame). Less stress, too. Now if I’d only win the lottery, learn to like veggies and workout, my life would be perfect.

Finally, there is a break in the heat. Which, of course, means it is raining. Even better, this wacky weather has triggered my migraines again. Probably a cluster of them too. At least, I want to blame the weather. Surely it has nothing to do with all the junk food I’ve eaten this week. See, junk food makes me feel happy … and nothing that makes you feel happy could possibly make the little man with the pick-axe in my head start using said pick-axe or do that awful squeezing/pressure thing that makes you feel like he is sucking your soul and/or will to live out through your nasal cavity …

Ok, enough of the woe-is-me bit.

Writing. I don’t seem to be doing a whole lot of it lately. Again. I did work on a scene where our hero finally realized the reason behind our heroine’s strongest objection to their marriage. Little sister pointed it out, of course. The woman’s perspective. Our hero kissed our heroine several years ago and then promptly announced his engagement – to someone else. Heroine pops him in the nose and basically leave town to study to become a doctor. Then several years later, he kisses her again and she questions his motives, especially since he has enlisted her help in finding him a wife.

Or is it more effective to have a notorious scoundrel not kiss little miss perfect for a good chunk of the time they are engaged?

Sigh. Me thinks my scene will be filed under “Good idea, but it doesn’t work here”. The Story of My Life.