Monthly Archives: September 2013

The road to self-improvement is fraught with potholes.


I blame daughter #1 for graduating this year.  I see her, standing on the edge of adulthood, with all of life’s choices and mistakes ahead of her, and I can’t help but look back at what I’ve accomplished.  Or not.  Does it really matter?  The point is, I want some change in my life too!  I don’t want to be stuck where I’m at.  I know this is a recurring theme for me, and I think the more I write, the more I think about it.

Option A:  Take a college class so that I feel like I’m self-improving.

Option B:  Find a new and equally unfulfilling job in my current line of work, just for a change.

Option C:  Keep writing, keep questioning, and stay where I’m at for the moment until I finish my novel.

Option D:  Quit thinking about me, me, me, and start praying and praising God, and asking Him for guidance instead of getting all swirled up in this misery of my own making.

Okay.  Option D is a given.  I have felt like I’m stepping away from God at the moment, and I should probably pause for a moment (time being relative) and get my head on straight.  I’m a whirlwind of negative energy right now and until I deal with that, I should probably avoid making any life changing choices.

Option C is also a given.  I’ve been working on this book for almost a year.  I’m moving really slowly at this point, but I need to get it done.  I’m almost 3/4 of the way done with my rewrite, and will still need more revision before it’s ready for the world.

Option B just doesn’t appeal, although I’ve been looking for a variety of reasons, and this will probably happen as I will have to work my way through option A if I choose to go that route.  Keeping in mind that I still have child #2 at home in middle school.

I always thought that when my kids flew free, it would be MY time.  Time to be with my husband that we’d never had before.  Time to just relax and do whatever.  Instead, the time goes faster and I feel more panicked about how quiet and lonely the house will feel.  The funny thing is that if Daughter #1 comes to live at home again for a time after college to get a job, get on her feet, Daughter #2 will be a senior in high school.


That’s me.

I’m done whining now.






September 29, 2013. The first day to a new me!


I’m not as excited about that as I made it sound.  My daughter wants to start jogging with me, and I’m inclined to give in to her request as I need to get into shape and drop that last 80 pounds.

Yes, you can laugh.  I’ve lost and kept off four whole pounds this year.

So, today is the day!  The day that I shake off the mental and physical restraints that have held me to the couch (as much as one can “shake off” bronchitis, anyway)!  And yeah, I haven’t actually been physically restrained.  I’m just super lazy, and I love chocolate!  What’s wrong with that?

And, I asked daughter #2 what kind of physical activity she would like to do with me, as daughter #1 will be going off to college next year….  Because putting my fitness health into the hands of a 12 year old with ADHD is probably one of my smarter moves.  I just realized how ridiculous I sound.  Anyway, daughter #1 is not keeping up her end of the deal.  “Yeah, mom, I’ll go to the gym with you.”  More like, “I’m stressed out, Mom, I need to assuage my rage with this pint of Ben and Jerry’s.”  Which of course leads me to tell her she needs to find a more physical outlet for her stress than chugging down ice cream on the couch with the gang from The Big Bang Theory.

I’d like to admit that I’ve been a bad example, that I deal with my stress by doing that very thing, but I really can’t.  Because my way of managing my rage, disappointment, and sadness, is to go online and tell the world about it, all in the name of developing my writing skills for a career that will probably never happen.

Which is just another way of sitting on my ass, I suppose.  Minus the ice cream.

But I digress.

Today is the day!  A new me!  Me version 2.0!!!!  Yipppppeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~schizophrenic wavygirl~


If I’m gonna surf the net purposelessly, I might as well write something.


Writing group went well.  Got some good feedback.  I must be a masochist, because I don’t want someone who will be all “Good job!  Way to go!”  I want someone who’ll kick my butt and really make me think about how I’m writing. 

My next goal is to start writing articles for magazines and submitting them.  I have a few good (maybe) ideas and am just searching for the right place to submit them, seeing as how I’m a newb who’s never been published.

I just really don’t want to be stuck doing what I do for the rest of my life.  And there’s no reason that I should have to be, other than closed-mindedness, or laziness.  Or we can always circle back to lack of self discipline (I mention this several times in prior posts and I’m too lazy to find them.  If anyone happens to actually want to read them, comment and I’ll be happy to repost them. Or, search for it yourself and enjoy the randomness in my brain, lol).

So, obviously, I am not doing a whole lot at the moment.  My “desk” at the moment is my daughter’s blue holey IKEA chair next to my bed, with the bed being the desktop.  Like this, but royal blue.

JULES Junior desk chair IKEA You sit comfortably since the chair is adjustable in height.

I have a great desk downstairs (also from IKEA, now that I think about it), but it is currently home to the guinea pigs cages.

Oh, and the pigs are named Oreo and NuttButt (short for Nutter Butter).  I’ll post a pics of my boys later.  🙂

Time to go shopping with my BFF#3/SIL.  😉


Today is the day I’ve been waiting for….


I got up around 3:45 this morning today, and my mind started racing like Lightning McQueen at the Piston Cup.

I start my writer’s group today, in two and a half hours, and I’m already second guessing myself.

“Everyone else is going to be a better writer than me.”

“Did I pick the right excerpt from my novel to take with me?”

“I’m never going to be a writer, and I’m going to be stuck at my moderate paying health care job for the rest of my life.”

to the ever popular, “You suck, you shouldn’t even bother.”

Mind you, I wouldn’t even dream of no going to this group.  I loathe speaking in front of strangers, and I’m going to force myself to do that as well, if needed.

As a Christian, and a wanna-be writer, I want to use my writing for the forces of good.  Maybe this is the forces of darkness trying to get me to chicken out.  Well, neener-neener forces of darkness.  I’m going anyway.

And I’ll post the excerpt right here, for all the world to see.  I made a couple minor changes as the readers can’t see what came before (and to shorten it to one page, LOL)


                 She turned off the screen and headed down the hall to the lavatory, then stopped and opened the door to The Law Office of John Sinclair.  “Hello?” she called as she opened the door.

            John sat slumped in the desk in the front office.  He sat up and reached to straighten his tie, then seemed to realize he’d already removed it.  “What can I do for you, Charissa?”  He always sounded so proper, so professional.  She really did try to stay away from married men, and John was very much married.  Although, according to his secretary, Monica, the divorce was nearly final.  He wouldn’t talk about it with her though.  He would just adjust his glasses, straighten his tie, and make her wonder what lay under that lawyerly exterior.

            At any rate, it was fun to taunt him a little.  She draped herself in the chair reserved for clients.  “Nothing.  I just had the dinner from hell with my brother.”  She told him about her brother, Greg, and his on again, off again fiancé, and their meal at Antonia’s, a rather expensive Italian restaurant, and how they’d stuck her with the bill again.  “They think that they can just walk all over me.” 

            John glanced up from his computer and merely nodded at her chatter; the glow from the screen lit up his face.  He looked rather pale, with dark shadows under his eyes.  The glasses hid them unless one was looking.  The man looked tired.  He also looked bored, which was not her intent in coming here. 

            “I fell in the hallway earlier,” she said.

            “Is that right?” he murmured.  “YES!!”  He stared at the screen in front of him.

            She raised her eyebrows at him.  “I’m sorry?”

            “Oh, no, I was just winning on the game.  You fell?  You all right?”  He was already engrossed in whatever idiotic game he was playing.

            “Well I cut my leg….” 

            He glanced up that that, and spent a second or two longer to look at her leg than he should have needed.  Finally.  What did she have to do get a little attention around here?  Unfortunately, John was merely eye candy, to be savored but not devoured.  He half stood.  “You’re bleeding.”

            “I’m all right.”  Just a little attention, that’s all she needed to boost her spirits.  Maybe she’d hang around the office for an hour or so, and he would come and visit her.  They could lock the door.  Or she could forget the fantasy and just call Taylor, her sort-of boyfriend.  The idea of calling him irritated her, and she thought that their future might be very short-lived. 

            The fantasy was supremely better.  She wondered again when John’s divorce was final.  Would he be willing to check out her legs more intimately?

            “How are you?” she asked, belatedly.

            He spared her one more glance, a quick, dismissive one this time.  “I’m just fine.”  That was his patent response to that question every time she asked it.  She stood, stretched just a little, to no avail.  His attention span had been used up.  “Yes!” he yelled again.

            Charissa went back to her office, torn between irritation and laughter.  She knew she irked him, but he hid it well.  She just couldn’t decide if he liked her as a human or not.  They’d shared this floor of the building for the past year and a half, and she was no closer to getting to know him now than ever.  Oh well, he was just a harmless little fantasy, anyway. 


Anyway, around 5:30 I got back to sleep for another hour and a half.  Bite me, forces of darkness!


Benadryl, Allegra, and Melatonin ramblings


I should be unconscious soon.

In the background is the sound of daughter #2 arguing about a smell in the shower and her inability to use the other bathroom.  The same phrases are being tossed about over and over.

I think I’m going to sit that one out.

What other drug might I try to stop this dripping faucet of a nose?  Zyrtec is out.  i don’t have any Nyquil (though that might be an interesting addition to the current cocktail of medications I’m currently on).

Okay, fifteen minutes later and the shower is finally running.  Daughter #1 is coughing too.

Oh, yes, I did a nebulizer treatment earlier as well, which did help with the wheezy cough thing.

My brain is fried.  I really thought if I chilled out this weekend, I would feel better.  Only did three pages of my novel.

Back to the runny nose, eye watering, stuffy head, wheezy breathing grindstone tomorrow.

Did I mention I work with patients?  sigh

Everyone buy up stock in Halls now cuz I’m flying through it like crazy!


PS.  it could be worse.  I could be nauseous and feverish too.

Liberals versus conversatives


I go on websites for my news, and the best thing about that is that there is usually a message board involved somewhere.  Once in a while, someone has something intelligent and succinct to say, however, most of the time, the conversations fall apart in one of three ways:

1.  “You must have voted for_____________, because you’re so stupid.

2.  “I can’t believe your spelling/punctuation/grammar are so awful.”

3.  “You’re a racist.”

Yup, I think those are the big three.  We are caught in a world where we are rapidly having our hands tied.  I’d like to think that end time prophecy is coming into play, but I’m trying to live as normally as possible despite the fact that I live in a country where a college professor can get fired for stating that marriage is between one man and one woman, or thugs can shoot children in the face in a park (in Chicago), or the schools can standardize everything so make our kids dumber (I blame Bush for that one.  I always thought No Child Left Behind was a ridiculous concept, now it’s just going to the next level).

Anyway.  I have always gone for the conspiracy theory that the silent hands with the money are the ones running this country, and that we don’t really have any say in it.  That would explain our current president and his addiction to teleprompters.  I wonder if he has an offshore account somewhere.

Notice I didn’t say Democrats versus Republicans.  I am definitely conservative, but I would really hate to align myself politically with either of those groups.  When the polls dictate how one votes instead of one’s conscience, how do we really know where anyone stands?

Anyway, now the scare tactic people are out, saying that the government is going to declare martial law next month.  I don’t know what to do with that.  But if I have to stay inside my home, and I lose pay, my banks better forgive my loans or waive my late fees or whatever.  I’m getting close to paying off my credit cards (a lesson our government could stand to learn, I sure don’t get to just print more money and use it for vacations or to give weapons to my enemies (not that I would, lol)), and don’t need my interest rates to shoot up when I’m this close.

See, it’s all about money.  Even I’m not immune.



My 9/11 story


Everyone over the age of 18 has one.  I’m not any different.  My story is not super exciting, but here it is anyway.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I got up and got my 5 year old off to kindergarten, and had breakfast, and then went into the bedroom of our little apartment to go on the internet.  MSN had message boards back then, and I had met a group of women with one thing in common.  We all were due to have a child in September.  There were probably about 70 of us on that board back then.  Some had had their babies back in August, some the day before, and in one notable case, one delivered in the time where the first plane had struck the World Trade Center, but the second had not yet crashed.

As for myself, I was in that ninth month, and getting a little bored with hauling myself around.  I went on the computer to see who had delivered, who thought they might be in labor, and any other conversations that might come up.  There was a post, something about “What is wrong with the world today?”, and I clicked on it.

I didn’t know what was going on at first.  I don’t watch the news, and I hate listening to the TV in the morning.  But that morning I went into the living room and turned the TV on.  My breath was taken away by the image of the smoke pouring from the second tower, and I was quickly and unpleasantly caught up to speed. It was all that was on the radio, the news, it was everywhere.  I went to an OBGYN appointment that day, and, no surprise, my blood pressure was up. 

Everywhere I went, there is was, and when I got back home, my husband was sleeping.  He worked midnights at the time and had pretty much slept through the whole thing, despite my attempts to wake him. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about why I was bring life into this world, although now it occurs to me that both my kids were kind of oopsie babies so I guess I didn’t really make that actual choice to bring life into the world, it just kind of happened.  LOL

Anyway, my daughter finally came home, and I was so grateful to see her.  She had a letter from the school detailing that things would go on as usual.  It was a beautiful, warm sunny day in southeast Michigan, and I couldn’t tear myself away from the TV screen.  I did want to shelter my little girl, but I also wanted to talk with her a little about it, and let her know that she was safe and loved.

My husband finally got up and got up to speed around dinner time, and he called in to work that night because I was so anxious about the whole thing.

And then we went to bed, but not to sleep, and woke up the next day. 

11 days after, my second daughter was born, and she was loud and she had the cutest round head.

But that’s another story.  Life goes on even in the face of unspeakable tragedy.  If we are wise, we learn from the past to look to the future.  While living in the present.  Hmm.  It’s almost like a time travel paradox.  I wish more people in this current world of 2013 would look to the past, and maybe even learn from it.