Fat.

You know it's time to lose weight when you drop your chapstick under the bed and try to think of other things to pick up while you're down there.
And while you're under there you get stuck.

But you manage to unwedge yourself and get out, but now your stomach is aching in places, and so is your rotator(sp?) cuff.
And this is a good reminder:
You're not only fat, you're old too.

Oldies???

Okay, it's just not right.

A few months ago I go in search of online radio stations that I can listen to during work.

Not true internet radio stations, but official brick and mortar radio stations that broadcast simultaneously live over the internet. And I find several.

Several good ones.

And I'm excited.

WNIC, the station I listened to religiously as a teenager is there.

But it's changed. 

Gone is the soft rock and soothing, loving voices of past DJs.

"Pillow Talk" is replaced with something that makes me want to bang my head against a pillow.

The morning crew is...unappealing and somewhat obnoxious.

So I move on.

WRVR out of Toledo is there.

And it's good.  Very good.

But Linda and I used to listen to that during the work day and share thoughts on our favorite songs when they aired. And Linda has since moved on to a better job that she loves.

So 101.5 is a downer somehow.

So I move on.

99.1 is there. And it's okay.

Home.FM is there. And it's okay.  Though a little too "inspirational" for an entire day of listening.

And there are some country stations there.

But country isn't what I need to get me through it all.

Then I discover WOMC.

The Oldies Station from my teenage years.

The Oldies Station that my nephews love.

The Oldies Station that reminds me of my childhood, and makes me feel closer to those whom I've moved away from since getting married.

And I'm psyched.

I load the live stream.

I bookmark the station under my "Radio" bookmark file.

I'm ready.

Get set.

Play.

And it's wonderful.

Perky.

(Since Dick Purton is still there in the mornings.)

A little irritating.

(Since Dick Purton is still there in the mornings.)

And it's great.

Then I listen for an extended period of time.

And I realize that, while I still love it, the "oldies" that it's playing are actually the songs of the eighties that I listened to growing up.  Not the "oldies" of the 50s and 60s. Or even the 70s.

The 80s!!!!!

What's up with that!!!????

It can't be that my favorite music era has now reached the level of being called "oldies," can it?

Say it ain't so!

 

Passing Me By

Life is passing me by.

 

There are many things I'd like to do, to participate in, if I weren't living my life in crisis mode at all times.

 

How do I stop this merry-go-round?

 

It's spinning out of control.

 

I'm barely holding on to reality.

 

What to do, what to do????

Times they are a changin'...

It wouldn't be such a bad thing if I didn't despise change so much.
But I do.

But in this case I can honestly say that I'm scared.

We're faced again with the need to move.
At least we're 99% sure we have to move.

Many months ago we started receiving mail at our house addressed to the landlord. You could tell by the return address on the envelopes/postcards that it was mail pertaining to bankruptcy. One day an envelope came to the house addressed to Kent, and one from the same company addressed to the the landlord.

Kent opened it and it was a flyer advertising a business that can help with bankruptcy and foreclosure. I called the landlord and (eventually) he called back and told Kent that nothing was going on.

Then one day someone posted an auction notice on the tree out front. And another day someone taped a note to the door asking the occupant to contact the new "owners". All the while our landlord is telling Kent that this is all just the procedure he has to go through in order to qualify for a lower mortgage rate. Kent accepted all of this at facevalue because it's what we were told when we were going through the problems with our mortgage company.

And each month the "new owner" company would call Kent to see if he'd heard anything from the landlord because, according to policy, he had six months to buy back the sale.

Last month the six months was up.
So I sent a letter with my rent payment saying that this was the last payment, yada yada yada, and the man never wrote back.

And so here we are waiting to receive some kind of notice about when we have to vacate. And really, if. Because there's always the possibility that we wouldn't.
Right?

Because in today's market who is going to buy this place?

But there are people out there who are buying houses, fixing them up, yadayadayada. But we don't know.

We just don't know.

And it's freaking me out.

My heart is doing crazy things.
My tummy's doing crazy things.
I can't sleep.
Can't eat right.
Can't focus.
Can't remember.

All I know is that I feel like a failure and that my family would be better off without me.

And I feel frantic to find a better place for my son to live.

Because in my mind if we have to move, then it better be for something better.

But I'm afraid that I'm going to pass up something that's "okay" for the hope of "something better" and then in the end wind up having to settle for "liveable."

It's so frightening.

And on top of that, I get this letter from the dentist saying I owe almost $800 from 2008. I never got a bill!!

This is all just too much.

I want to cry.
Seriously.
I want to cry.

I Was Just Gonna Take a Shower

Originally posted March 19, 2009 in Lest I Forget

I was just gonna take a shower.
I had real good intentions.
And out of nowhere comes this memory.
Of how once upon a time an injustice was done to me, and so I'm here to vent.

Because I'm the kind of person who usually "vents and forgets."

I get mad.
I vent.
I rant and rave.
I may even yell.
But then I get over it.

But now I'm thinking it's not always a good thing to just forget.

Even though God tells us to turn the other cheek.

While I don't want to remember these things, I've decided that I at least want to record them. . . . I just hope I don't forget them before I get a chance to write them down.
1. Tim
2. Kim
3. Mom/Sis baby

Okay, that's all I can remember at the moment.
Maybe an entire blog was stretching it a little.