Number of days in denial -- Seven and counting

My house is in chaos. For the past six months I have been able to maintain some sense of order and cleanliness. This is no small feat seeing that H3 is not one to notice (or care) if things are not neat and tidy. In fact, I think he prefers the messy look.

Each weekend I have deep cleaned the house and after work I try to pick up the mess that is made while I am away. Does it make me mad that H3 can't find 20 minutes to pick up before I get home from a long day at work? Of course it does! I just wish I could make him realize how important this is to me.

Sorry, I digressed into husband bashing.

One of my biggest flaws is that I can't just clean. I always end up reorganizing something. This weekend I decided to reorganize all the kitchen cabinets and create a mini bar on the baker's rack.

Now the entire house is in chaos. The dinning table is covered with items that I have removed from the cabinets; there is a pile of items that need to go in the attic; and a there’s pile of junk that needs to go to Salvation Army.

I spent so much time on the cabinet clean-out that I did not have time to clean the house. Now there are piles of dirty laundry blocking the hall and each room is just a mess. To make matters worse, my parents are coming to town next week and I don't know how I will get it all cleaned.

My parents are the most meticulously clean people on earth. Their house seriously looks like a museum. H3 claims that trying to live up to those standards make me insane. There may be some truth to that, but I feel less stressed if everything is in its place and the house is clean.

I love coming home to a house that looks neat and smells good. I love going to sleep in a room that has fresh crisp sheets and nothing on the floor or piled on tables.

When we lived in a much larger house I was better able to ignore the clutter. Then again, maybe that is why my life always seemed out of control and I was always so unhappy. I actually refused to go downstairs (the dungeon) because of the mess that H3 and Rnady made down there.

It became a running joke that the dungeon was off limits for me. In fact, H3 would do whatever it took to keep me from entering his dungeon domain because I would freak out every time I walked through there.

But I hated the fact that I we would not invite people over because I did not want anyone to know how we lived. I also feel guilty that Megmonster would bring friends over and they would see the mess that we called home. I worry that our lifestyle embarrassed her. My only defense is that it was not always that way -- only the last six or seven years.

Now that we live in a (very) small house, I have a difficult time ignoring the mess. So even if I have to spend my weekend cleaning, it's better than feeling stressed. I am trying not to panic about the 'rents visiting, even though I am worried about how I am going to work all week and get the place looking semi-clean. I moght take Friday off to get the job done. I'm sure my current migraine is a result of the self-induced stress.

I have been in a strange place lately. I feel like I am going through the motions but not really enjoying anything. I picked up another freelance job so I have been working a lot.

Amazingly I was able to get noodle promoted to the second grade. He is doing well in all subjects but he struggles with reading. I let the school know that retention was not an option. I also said we were willing to do whatever was needed to get him on grade level.

Unfortunately, his (young redneck who has never been more than ten miles from home) teacher was determined that she was going to hold him back. So during my many conversations with the principal (and several calls to the school board) I mentioned that if they tried to retain him, I was not opposed to:

1. Hiring a lawyer to fight it.
2. Pulling him out and going to a private school.
3. Showing several reporters the documents I had obtained that reveal that his school has the highest retention rate of K-2 in the county (almost the highest in the state)

Why did I mention retention rates? Schools in N.C. get bonus money (or sanctions) based on the number of children who pass or fail the 3rd grade tests. During my research on retention statistics for noodle’s school I discovered that if a child has been retained in K-2, his/her 3rd grade test scores do not count against the school.

I also suggested to the principal that maybe they were holding kids back in order to keep their "End of 3rd Grade" test results artificially high.

Anyway, when Noodle’s report card arrived they had marked retained on it and it had been scratched out and promoted to 2nd grade was written in. My inside sources tell me that his teacher was determined to hold him back (we had a few run ins this year) but the principle told her that the school had to many other problems to deal with right know and I was not someone who would go away quietly.

Sometimes it pays to be a bitch. Also we are paying (big bucks) to have noodle privately tutored 5 days a week this summer so he will be back on track.

What else is going on? The medical procedure (test) I had a few weeks ago came back good. However, like every other time I have been to a doctor they identified a new problem. I hate that phone call .... Ms. Lawson we noticed some spots on your mammogram that need to be checked further.

I went for a sonogram on Friday and it was going well, most of the spots were just cysts. The technician and I were chatting away when she suddenly got quiet. Then she started marking things on the screen. I finally asked "What are you marking?" She replied "uh, well, you have some abnormal lymph nodes."

I decided not to ask any more questions. After I dressed, she said okay you’re done. You'll hear from the doctor Tuesday.

TUESDAY???? I hate when they make you wait, wondering for days what the hell they suspect.

On a good note I have several trips planned over the next few weeks. My parents and one sibling have rented a beach house about 1 1/2 hours from Mayberry, so I am going to go see them for a few days.

Then Megmonster and her Dude Guy are coming to visit and we are all heading up to DC for a few days to visit the Smithsonian and the National Zoo.

That’s it for now, we are all caught up.

It’s a rare day that I don’t think about how much I miss my friends and family. Often, I wonder if they miss me.

Twice in the past two weeks Twinkie has let me know how much she misses me. First she sent me an e-mail that included a pictorial list of things that remind her of me.

Then tonight she said “I haven’t thrown up from drinking too much, since you moved away.” I was touched.

I guess the good news is that her liver is thankful that I am gone.

To me it seems that many of the people who claim that they are looked down on (or judged by others because they are different) seem to be the most judgmental of all.

I am not sure if that last statement made sense but let me try and explain. I recently have read some blogs where certain people talk about how they feel others have judged them by the way they looked, dressed, talked or by the way they dress. The theme of the blogs seem to be "I just don't fit in" or "Rich people, religious people, skinny people, pretty people, smart people, etc.., make me feel uncomfortable."

The funny thing is that in the few encounters I have had with these bloggers they are they commit the same crimes.

A few years ago I worked at a place where I was always hearing how someone didn't like me. I was always amazed at the reason given since I really didn't know most of these individuals. And to be honest I really didn’t care how they felt.

The reasons for disliking me were so bizarre. Just to name a few – “I asked too many questions in meetings, I was hired for a position they had applied for, I was a manager, I was on the dark side, I lived in the south end, they hated my boss and so they also hated me. ”

It's not that I am some innocent being who is always kind to the sick, old and less fortunate. I can be a bitch and I can be mean. The thing is, at least let me treat you like shit before you cross me off of your possible friend list. You never know what opportunities were missed because you were "hatin" before you had all the facts. We probably had more in common than you will ever know.

Two of my dearest friends were almost lost opportunities.

Sometimes you think you may not have anything in common with someone but what you see may not be what you get. Twinkie and I worked in the same company (with offices a few doors apart) for more than two years before we became friends.

We only got to know each other during my last 12 months at that job. I can't imagine my life without her in it and I am glad we took the time to get to know each other.

Then there are times when a person gives you a bad first impression and you never look beyond that encounter to see if your instinct was wrong.

The first time Victoria and I met (about nine years ago) we instantly disliked each other. We were in an uncomfortable situation (a forced meeting by a mutual friend) and we judged each other based on the people we were with.

Months went by until we were forced together to celebrate the same mutual friend's birthday. On the second meeting we instantly connected and I have adored her since. In fact, we frequently laugh about our disastrous first meeting. And the mutual friend that forced us together? We realized that we didn't like her that much after all and lost contact with her years ago.


I guess what I am saying is, don't boo-hoo about the girls that were mean to you in high school or the women in your neighborhood that don't appreciate your unique style. Stop and think about the times you have snubbed someone for no reason. Don't be crying unless you can stop your hatin'

During my recent medical procedure I was given this wonderful versed/demerol mixture. All I remember is the nurse saying she was going to start the IV and then the next memory is the doctor asking me how I was doing. My response was to ask him when he was going to start and he responded "Actually we're finished."

From that point things are fuzzy. H3 swears they rolled me out to the car in a wheelchair. I am not sure if I believe him or not. Seems like I would have some memory of this.

Next, I demanded to be taken to work so I could check in on Miss Eunice. H3 said it was not worth the hassle of arguing with me so he let me go in. After I said hello to Miss Eunice, I wanted to eat some vegetables so I demanded to go to Cracker Barrel.

Once again H3 obliged and I had some combination of vegetables and turkey. It's all a blur. I have these bizarre snippets of turkey and country arts and crafts, but I can't really pull it all together.

Then I went home and slept like a baby. Overall it was a good day.