Thursday, June 23, 2011

If you don't have a sister to send you random emails at 1:53am you should go get one right now!

I have a sister. She is 16 months older than me and the oldest of us four siblings. In stereotypical First Child form, she has spent the majority of her life over succeeding at everything. She doesn't just join the college sorority: she becomes the president. She doesn't just learn how to clog: she starts her own clogging studio and teaches clogging to youth. And then she starts a business on the side catering to the clogging shoe world.

In short, her general over-achievement makes me look like much more of a slacker than I actually am. And trust me, I can slack quite well on my own, thankyouverymuch.

But we are alike, her and I. We actually do share some of the same qualities (although she'd probably deny this to her death)... humor and wit being one of them. In a way, I think that if I tried harder I could be more successful like her. Or, if she would just stop putting forth effort she, too, could be as lazy and unsuccessful as me. It's a very precarious balance.

Anyway. Super Sister decided she didn't have enough on her plate what with the farm they live on, the dance studio she runs, the shoe business she owns, the kids she raises, the MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group she belongs to.... so she decided to go back to college. I'm not sure what she is exactly, but I know she can add a whole bunch of capital letters at the end of her name and whatever class she's taking this summer is probably going to allow her to add even more letters. (I, however, have no letters I can add at the end of my name. My name just stops.)

This morning I woke up and checked my email like I do every morning... and found this little note from my sister (which she sent at 1:53am) who had been busy working on a paper that is due today:

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Things I did that made writing my first paper take a REALLY, REALLY long time:


A few legitimate things that I just stretched out – like make dinner and wipe off the table and counters and do dishes and start the laundry and vacuum the floor. Things I (usually) do each night but tonight I did them extra special good.


Read to the kids. Again another thing I did just a bit LONGER than usual.


Then I needed to go on Facebook and make sure to check with someone about ordering some Scentsy stuff.


Because my house needs to have a fun summer scent.


And I had to repost the info about the Delta Zeta reunion in July.


Next I had to send out an email to my instructors about my new adult instructors-in-training. (Oh, and earlier I had to talk to C----on the phone for awhile about that, too.)


Then I had an idea for my new instructors in training so I sent them an email.


Because now would be a good time to start bombarding them with my random ideas.


Then I had to send an email to M---- about teaching a few girls in a special class when we start classes.


On July 10th. But she needed that info tonight for sure.


Then I looked up KLOVEto find the artist for the song MOVE.


And then look up the Mercy Me website (because they happen to be the artist) to find the info on the fun thing they are doing for their new song MOVE.


And then I did an email to my instructors about that and sent them the link.


Then since I was on google chrome I thought I should see if they really didn’t sell Leinenkugal in Arkansas and I discovered that they did indeed sell it so I sent that information to my in-laws so they too could experience the new Summer Shandy. I also spent some time checking out the Leine’s apparel because who couldn’t use another beer shirt?


And then I noticed I didn’t close my facebook page out when I went on my beer run, so I checked facebook again and saw C---’s funny link about the chicken and had to check out The Bloggess blog and then make sure I sent a message to you to make sure you saw it. I spent a few more minutes laughing at the blog and wishing I hadn’t accepted friend requests from anyone under 18 because I would SO be sharing a link to this chicken story if I could!!


So I shared a link I was going to share the other day on my MOPS group page. Something without swear words.


And I sent a few friend requests to some MOPS moms from my bible study that I was thinking were pretty cool.


And they are.


After I did some Facebook stalking I found out the one is married to the dentist that did my root canal and he was super cool about dealing with my freaky dental anxiety.


The other is married to some guy that does something in animation because he was working on the 3-2-1 Penguins! show a few years ago (which I discovered when I clicked on the link to her blog and tried to figure out a bit about her) and I love that little show.


Which made me remember that I wanted to get more of those DVDs so I went on the library website and searched for the library that had them and then placed a hold for them. (And renewed my overdue item.)


Then my phone blinked to tell me that friend requests were accepted.


So I had to quick check the wall of new friend in case my previous Facebook stalking didn’t reveal enough relevant information at the time.


Then I thought perhaps a Leinenkugel Summer Shandy might help me finish my paper.


So I got up and got one.


And I thought that recapping my terrible procrastinating habits would be funny so I started an email to you.


And will continue to come back and add to it until I finish my paper.


Observation… Leinenkugel does have an effect on my writing process: my grammar and spell check are working very hard right now.


Thought I saw the light blinking on my phone. Stopped to check. Nope – not one of my emails or Facebook posts have been replied to.


Another Facebook check lets me know a friend from college posted pics called “Fontana 2011” of course I must check this out. Why was she in Fontana? I cannot discern this from said photos and most peek at her page for a moment. Hmmmm…lives in Richfield, WI. Where is that? better google it. Washington County. Hmmmm… wonder what it’s like there. Suppose I better check out the municipality website for pics and school info. Because at quarter to midnight I must take time away from my paper to research a town I will most likely never even visit, much less live there.


Damn, I suck at this paper crap.


Maybe a google search of Tony Dungy inspirational quotes will inspire me.


Must share favorite Tony Dungy quote on Facebook.


Another Facebook time waster.


Paper is done.


And saved.


But not printed because it will need to be reread in the morning.


But I still went on Facebook and made sure everyone knew about the Great American Backyard Campout.


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And this email is exactly why people must procreate properly and provide sisters to their siblings. If you don't have one and your mom and dad tell you they're done having kids, and you really want a sister, you can apply to share mine. Note: you must be able to quote virtually the entire Monty Python and the Holy Grail movie. If you can't, don't bother applying. I would suggest renting the movie and practicing first.

(Also, I think she's way better at procrastinating than me, too....)

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

It's all in the name...

I sent Big V a text asking him if he was working tonight. Because he works a lot at night in order to avoid the chaos of our home help financially provide for his family. He currently is working on building a custom shower and tiling a tub surround for some guy's basement bathroom and has been going over there every night this past week for a couple hours. He usually returns home as soon as I put the toddler to bed. (I've been told this is purely coincidental.)

Big V sent me this text back:

                    I told horse I would.


The guy's name is Horace.

It's close, right?

What ever happened to HIPPA?

A couple days ago I started experiencing heart palpitations and tingliness in my arms and legs and it kept getting worse to the point I wrote a goodbye letter to my children because I was certain I was going to die.

On Monday morning I thought the end was near and I didn't want to spend my last moments at my cramped desk area mostly because I was afraid that if I did die at work I would soil myself because I heard that happens when you die, and it's bad enough being known eternally as the chick who kicked the bucket at her desk and there was no way I wanted to add and she crapped her pants so I called the doctor and made an appointment for 2:00pm.

But then the doctor turned out to be a hater and cancelled my appointment because I'm technically a new patient because I don't have a primary care physician picked out at their 200 doctors clinic. I used to. But that doctor left. Probably because they suck. Anyway, since I have a blank where my primary physician is supposed to be listed they told me they couldn't see me at the 2:00 open spot. Then I pick this doctor to be my primary care physician! "That would be great! We have availability this Friday afternoon." But what about today? I know you have an open spot today at two! "Oh, that slot is for patient emergencies." Like me! I have an emergency! "But we realize that your insurance with us will cover absolutely everything for your regular appointment; however, if you are required to go to the Emergency Room located in the same damn building you would have had you regular appointment in, then you have a $60 co-pay and we all know sixty is more than zero, right?"

Okay, so she didn't say that... but it felt like she wanted to.

So, I went to the Emergency Room.

And it was filled to the top with crazy people. Some guy kept complaining because his kid needed to go to work by 4:00 and so someone should see about his wrist to see if it's broken, because if it is broken then the kid should just call in for work and if it wasn't then they could leave and the kid could get to work. There was an elderly woman who kept asking everyone if they were next. Are you next? Are you before me or after me? He was here before me. Is he next? Her elderly husband was busy watching the waiting room TV, repeating every word he heard, just like a parrot. But with less wing flutter. Then there was some girl, regardless of the  in a heavy hooded sweatshirt, thick pajama pants and a purse full of Dr. Pepper who kept muttering to herself. Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure the entire room is about to witness my heart exploding from my chest and it's gonna be messy. I kind of felt bad for the old lady in her white pants.

All I wanted was to be saved. And to be away from all these loud, crazy people.

One by one they were all called in. The waiting room cleared out and I felt like I could focus on my breathing in private.

Then they called me back.

And because they hate me they put me in a "shared" exam room. A woman lay on the other side of the flimsy, drawn curtain moaning. Next to her sat Dr. Pepper Mutterer.

Avoiding eye contact I moved to my side of the curtain and hopped on my bed, ready to lay my head down.

Suddenly the curtain flew open: "Are you here all by yourself?"  Uh... yeah.... I closed my eyes.

And thus began a lively one-sided conversation between Andrea, the bed moaner, Kathryn (with a "y" - not "ine") the Dr. Pepper Mutter and myself.

See, Andrea has been on disability for most of her life (mental disabilities) although she does have health problems. She had a complete hysterectomy when she was 18 and has two siblings and 5 nieces and nephews (the oldest being 13, the youngest being 1). She also has a hernia which is the size of a softball. She like Fruity Pebbles and Nerds candy. Kathryn is a recovering alcohol and drug addict, has a 4-year old named Addison and was in a coma for about a month. (I even got to see the tracheotomy scar.) She has a husband who is now 24 and just got out of jail but he's trying to get his life in order but no one will hire him because of his criminal record. He's six years younger than she is and they've been together for forever and contrary to what people say she did too wait until he turned 18 before they had sex.

No amount of closing my eyes, ignoring, telling them I didn't feel good and wanted to rest would convince them to cease talking. Every time a nurse would come in to check on the Bed Moaner she would close the curtain. As soon as the nurse walked out they'd open the curtain back up again. It made fearing death for a week until a Friday afternoon appointment seem not so bad after all.

Thankfully, I was saved by the doctor who closed the curtain divider and diagnosed me with Allergy Medication Overdose. He adjusted my med levels, and told me that in about 24 hours I'd feel more like myself. And, since he was there I also pointed out a dry patch rash thing I had on my arm. He suggested staying away from perfumed soap.... and from the other side of the curtain we hear, "Phisoderm! She should try Phisoderm!"

Monday, June 20, 2011

Just One Thing

Once upon a time I had this job with a really cool company except I was way too young to appreciate all its coolness - like the matching 401k and the lunch hour learning sessions and the fact that I was totally treated like a valuable asset. It's the little things, you know? Anyway, I had this super cool boss who also happened to be super hot AND intelligent. That was like bonus, bonus, BONUS! And made me really thankful I didn't work in accounting because the guy in charge over there was a total dweeb.

So my hot, smart, cool boss was a big fan of things like "if you're happy in your personal life you won't have much to worry you and get in the way of doing a fine job for me" and "if you feel good about your personal achievements it'll show in your professional achievements." It was all new to me but I did what he asked me to do and made a list of Personal and Professional Goals I wanted to accomplish, along with deadlines. Things like own my own house by the time I'm 25. And take a Spanish for Business Professional class within the next year.

And you know what? I accomplished everything on that list except for one thing.

Fast forward what feels to be a hundred years and my list is much more realistic: get to work kind of on time once in a while. Shower, preferably every day. Shave once a month during the winter months and once a week during summer. Nevermind: just don't ever wear shorts.

I started thinking that maybe I needed to add a few things to my list. A few goals to get my juices flowing, you know? So I don't end up one of those people that haven't left their house in over six weeks even though they haven't given birth.

I thought about what I might regret not doing on my death bed.... and I realized I am either an incredibly crafty person who can talk myself out of anything or an incredibly boring and lazy person who doesn't want to do much in life.

Sure, there's a lot of stuff I'd love to experience: for instance, if Countess de Lesseps wished to invite me to Morocco on her dime, of course I'd say yes, but that doesn't mean I want to carve out that path for myself. (Camels spit, you know.) 

I would love to learn how to crochet but I won't be crushed if I don't. I'll just buy my afghans ready made.

Really, there is just one thing on my list. The one I didn't accomplish before: become a published by the time I'm 30. And I need to get working on that. Especially since I'm over 30. By kind of several years. Know of anyone that needs a sarcastic writer for hire?

So, what's on YOUR list?