So SAD, But My Cabinets Are Gorgeous

There are just a few completely unrelated things bouncing around in my head today that I'd like to share.

Let me tell you something about me: daylight savings time totally effs me up. As soon as we made the time change and it was suddenly dark outside at freaking SIX...my body went OH NO NO SUNLIGHT LET'S CRY FOREVER. Seriously. I've got a few personal things on my mind that are just weighing on me terribly, and when I went to the gym and instead of feeling skinny and empowered and beautiful like I usually do, I went home and when I took my clothes off to take a shower and I saw myself in the mirror and I just...lost it.

I feel like I've been busting my ass trying to lose weight and it just doesn't happen. I know I could definitely do better. I could go to the gym more often (although I've been doing three times a week or more consistently) (because I'm a total ROCK STAR). And I know I could be eating better. Confession: I've been eating french fries lately. I don't think this is a problem in and of itself, because I'm not eating them often at all. But, all things considered, I could be doing better to eat healthier. So even though I'm a lot better off that I was a few years ago, I still feel like a total failure. After doing the hCG diet and losing so much weight so quickly, it is KILLING me to lose one pound a week (or some weeks not lose any) (ok, most weeks not lose any). I want a quick fix. I want to wake up one day and just magically be a size 8. Or a 10. Whatever. I just want to feel better about myself than I do now, and I feel like that's always going to be connected to the number on the scale. I'm just...stuck.

I'm sure I'll feel better later, but for now that's what's going on in my nutty head.

So anyway, back to yesterday after my shower. I got dressed and called Mim with only the intent of complaining about the size of my derriere, but what really happened was everything that I had been putting to the back of my mind for the last few weeks just came flooding out and before I knew it I was bawling and just freaking out about everything at once and my poor mother, who is a saint, talked me down. We talked about some really important stuff and I just have to say that she's the best friend a girl could ever have. She lets me say whatever I need to and she never gets offended or judgemental or anything like that, just like I can talk to Kwiddens and have her be totally awesome. I have some really awesome people in my life, I really do.

So, here's the plan:
Keep exercising.
Keep taking happy pills.
Bust out my SAD light. It's this amazing nifty light that mimics sunlight, and you shine it on yourself in the morning for a little while every day and it helps with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) (it's awesome that it's called that, because oh look, it makes you sad).

Blargh. I hate being crazy. Moving on.

Scott has been working very very hard, coding like no nerd has coded before, for a few months, building a new system at work. He recently finished it, and everyone in the entire company, and all the customers, and all the members of the board have had nothing but praise for the system, and I am SO proud of him. He works so hard, and I'm so glad he's getting some recognition for that. He's smart AND handy! Also, he gets more PTO than I do and he has to use it up by the end of the year, so he has every Friday for the rest of the year off, plus extra days around Christmas and Thanksgiving. Jerk (he totally deserves it though).

Last weekend we installed our new cabinets, and they look AMAZING! Amazing as in, I walk up the stairs and go WHOA IS THAT REALLY MY KITCHEN?? I've been intending to post about it, on here and on Facebook, but the SAD has got me feeling unmotivated to do ANYTHING except work on Mim's blanket. And watch Battlestar Galactica. Again. Really, the idea of sitting down and blogging has seemed totally boring to me (yet, here I am...blogging). So I will post about it, I promise, I just don't know when.

The countertop dude is coming over tomorrow while Scott is at home (not at work...jerk) to take measurements, and then the following Friday we'll have countertops installed and we will have a FULLY FUNCTIONAL KITCHEN. Like, appliances plugged in and water turned on and everything. You have no idea how excited I am about this.

I think once the countertops are in I'm going to go through all my dishes and such and decide what to keep and what to donate and organize everything exactly where I want it, and put the silverware in the SILVERWARE DRAWER...I don't know if I've ever mentioned it, but we didn't have a freaking silverware drawer before but now we do and it's the most awesomely epic thing EVER.

Then I plan on busting out the crock pot and learning to cook a bit. I'll actually have space to do it!

Now look. It's 7:30 and I'm so sleepy...stupid Daylight Savings Time. I wonder how long it's going to take me to adjust this time...and then I'll get to do it again in the spring. Oh, joy.

Now I'll Go Churn Some Butter...

Apparently, housewives are extinct.

An acquaintance posted this link of Facebook a little while ago. I read it, and thought it was fine and had a bit of a point, though it reeked of 19th century gender roles.

Then I read the comments.

Holy hell, people!

It took me three days to cool down enough to write this while keeping the language clean. Well, cleanish.

Gee, I'm SO SORRY I was too busy studying quantum mechanics to learn how to make a perfect souffle. Apparently I'm an awful person.

There are women who are happy to be at home, to cook and clean, and take care of children, and be there when the husband comes home with a smile and a fresh, hot supper laid out on the table. And I think that's wonderful. I think women should be able to do whatever they want to do, whether that is being at home or being out on Wall Street, trading stocks. Mim was a stay-at-home mom, and it was so wonderful to know that she was always there and would help and support us in all our endeavors. But she always wanted more. She wanted to learn. She wanted to (someday) be able to go out into the world and do something else after we kids were raised and do something she really, truly enjoyed.

I have no desire to have children of my own. I also have no desire to quit my job, stay at home, and cook. I don't particularly like cooking (but maybe when I have a nice, new, big kitchen I'll be willing to learn...) and I don't want to do all the cleaning (although I would clean more around the house if someone would remind me to, hint hint). I'm just not the domestic type. And I have thought to myself, many times, "Thank GOD I was born when I was, because I don't think I could ever be happy in a fixed gender role like things used to be!"

(And, no, I didn't just take the Lord's name in vain, because I really DO thank Him)

(So nobody get offended, ok?)

I don't consider myself a "feminist", but I'm really happy that I found a man who didn't have...ideas...about how things should be run in our home. We're partners. We share. We help each other. We pick up each other's slack. And we split the work (not quite evenly, I must admit...he's so much better at remembering chores than I am!). We both go to our jobs and earn about the same amount of money. And all of this is totally fine with both of us. We're happy.

There seem to be a lot of men (at least, all the men who left comments on this article...) that think that just because they were born with man-parts they are entitled to having a woman who will do whatever he wants her to do.

Think again, jerks.

A Breakdown And A Sandwich

This past weekend I ran out of Risperdal, which is the medicine that makes me nice instead of totally bitchy. I had put the empty bottle on the bathroom counter so I would see it and remember to go to the pharmacy, but every day I just totally spaced it.  I was feeling sick all day Monday, but I was stuck at work, and everything seemed to be annoying me, and I came home and just went to sleep. I woke up when Scott got home and he took me to the pharmacy. We got my medicine and I immediately popped one plus some Klonapin for good measure, and spent the rest of the evening just chilling out. Here is a picture of the amazingly awesome sandwich Scott made for me:

He always knows how to make me feel better.

I'm feeling much better now that I have my brain chemicals all balanced again.

I realize every now and again how incredibly lucky (blessed, even) I am to have Scott. He understands why I have mood swings and knows how to deal with them, and he knows that it isn't my fault and I don't mean anything when I snap at him or stomp around in a horrible mood. I think most men would have run away by now. Scott is just amazing.

International Kwiddens Day

Dear Kwiddens,

It's your birthday! You're 22! I can't believe it! Well, I can, but it's still cool!

I hereby designate today "International Kwiddens Day". Everyone can celebrate your existence!

Kwiddens, you are very special to me (not the "stop eating paste" special) and I am lucky to have you in my life.

Remember that time when you threw a dead spider at me, but I didn't know it was dead and I freaked out and punched you and we both got in trouble?

Remember when we drove to school and there was a really old, leathery looking woman in a parka, and we couldn't stop laughing all the way to school because we thought she was an Eskimo?

Remember when the missionaries came over for dinner and you burst out laughing in the middle of dinner and it made me start laughing and we couldn't stop so we got sent to our room?

Remember when we used to run around the backyard with a jump rope, pretending you were a horse and I was a cowgirl, because a jump rope was all we had?

Remember when we used to ride our bikes to Falls Park every day and have a picnic for lunch and climb around on the rocks and pretend we were mountain goats?

I have so many awesome memories with you, and we keep making more.

You are beautiful, inside and out. You are smart, kind, witty, generous, and a wonderful mother with a beautiful baby (and how could she not be beautiful, since she's made of you?).

You understand what's going on in my head and I'm never embarrassed to tell you whatever is on my mind. You're full of good advice and free with your hugs, and you're one of my closest confidantes.

You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be treated like a queen. You deserve ice cream, because I said so.

I'll see you tomorrow when the whole family meets for your birthday dinner. We'll eat rolls and honey butter and the calories won't matter because we're celebrating your life (plus I'll go to the gym for a few hours to work it off...).

Keep getting older. It's kinda fun. Plus we all like having you around.

Love you Kwiddens!

-Your Sister, Nanners

Silly, Foggy Scott

I'm tired, so today you just get a few amusing videos. If you're going to buy an industrial strength fog machine, you should definitely get to play with it.

It Looked SO AWESOME!

I don't think I need words to introduce this:



It would have been totally epic if we had had more than 15 trick or treaters...stupid Halloween on a Sunday.

Halloween: Buster And Nyah

Here's a picture of our little Nyah in her costume:

Best little Jack O Lantern EVER.

And, because animal cruelty is always funny*:

Buster as a hot dog. Oh yes, we did.

*Animal cruelty is never funny. And this isn't cruel. Well, not very cruel.

Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Gotta love Def Leppard. Other contenders were "Sugar Sugar" by The Archies, "Lollipop" by The Chordettes, and "I Want Candy" by Bow Wow Wow)

I had a dream last night that I went to Maverik in the morning before work and was choosing something to grab for breakfast. I swear the dream was like an hour long, and the entire time I was walking around the store, picking up something, then changing my mind and putting it back, choosing something else, etc. I ended up with a huge soda (not diet) and a ton of candy and donuts, and when I got to the cash register I looked at it all and said, "Scott would be ashamed of me!" and I put it all back. Then I woke up.

It was awesome.

I've been having an awful time with cravings lately. I think my body is like, "It's cold, therefore I need more fat to keep warm, therefore I must eat CANDY."

I've been a lot better about eating Halloween candy before Halloween this year than last year. A LOT. Still, I've had a bit here and there. I feel a little bit bad, since I've not been able to get to the gym much lately (but I went yesterday and my ankle didn't hurt much at all!), but I think I'll just have a few pieces over the next few days and then on Halloween I'll go ahead and indulge, and then Monday I'll bring in any leftover candy to work and make my coworkers eat it.

I was thinking about why I'm craving bad foods so much, since it's usually connected to how I'm feeling emotionally, and I find that figuring out what's making me sad/mad/whatever helps me not eat crap, even if it doesn't make the cravings go away. I'm 99% positive it has everything to do with not getting enough exercise over the last month and not having happy endorphins all over the place. I'm constantly amazed at the HUGE impact exercise has on my depression. I mean, the meds keep me at a pretty good baseline, but getting a good workout in at least three or four times a week really pushes my moods up into HAPPY HAPPY LAND (it's a really nice place, in case you were wondering).

Halloween is where it all starts. From there it just goes downhill. Halloween (candy), then Thanksgiving (pie), then Christmas (traditional Christmas Eve cheeseburgers, then traditional sugary cereal on Christmas, and all the candy), then New Year's (just another excuse to have yummies), and by the time it's January I'm usually heavier. BUT NOT THIS YEAR. I'm going to be reasonable. Treats, yes, but smaller portions, less often, and, above all, I'm going to keep exercising!

Now excuse me while I go eat one of the Halloween cookies my boss brought in today.

Don't worry. I'll burn it off later at the gym.

Chocolates, hCG, and Fog Machines, Oh My!

My favorite kind of chocolates are Queen Anne cherry cordials. Every year for Christmas someone in my family gets me a box, with the "e" scribbled out and replaced with an "a", which makes me the queen. I eat all of them in one day and it's delicious and amazing, but after I eat a whole box of them I'm sick of them and I don't want any more until next year.

I hate when people argue on Facebook. I got caught in the middle of an argument yesterday and it was mostly my fault...oops. This one involved someone ragging on the hCG diet, saying it doesn't work in the long run and it'll just make you unhealthy, etc. Well, let me tell you, I've kept 30 pounds off, my blood pressure and cholesterol went down, and now I can keep up with Scott while we're walking through a store. I can see how the weight would come back if you didn't change your eating and exercise habits, but I did and it's amazing. The end.

I ordered an industrial strength fog machine from Best Buy, and I chose (and paid for) the faster shipping. the website said it would be here by...YESTERDAY. They were supposed to send me an e-mail and charge my credit card when they shipped it, and I got neither an e-mail nor a charge. So last night I called customer service and tried to find out what was going on. I feel sorry for customer service people, because all they do all day is handle people's problems, and most of them aren't as polite as I am. Anyway. Even though it said nothing about it on the webpage, this item was special order through Best Buy from another company. The other company hadn't told Best Buy if they'd gotten the order or anything, so they were still in the dark. I'm mad. If, on the website, it says I will get my item by a specific day if I pay this much for shipping, I better get it then. As it stands, we may not get it at all before Halloween, which would totally suck.

THIS JUST IN:

I'm talking to Scott on messenger right now and he said Jon just told him a large package just arrived from Best Buy. I forgive them.

Work has been really slow lately. There are way fewer samples coming in from outside labs, so it's just our own every day, and it's not enough. I find myself killing time so I can get enough hours.

Me: Afternoon is the worst part of the day for me because everything is all done except I just have to wait for the machines to finish. And wait. And wait.
Kwiddens: Oh darn, you get paid to sit.
Me: I know, but I don't like waiting.
Kwiddens: Silly.

HOLY HELL I just got hit by a craving for Chinese food. I've had really intense cravings lately, and I don't know why.

The women at my new crochet group all do a different kind of crochet called Tunisian. It's almost a hybrid of knitting and crochet. I'm going to attempt to teach myself before we meet tonight.

Antibiotics Are Useless

So I joined a gym, right?

Right.

I was going all the time and feeling awesome for about two weeks. Then, everything just kinda...well, stopped.

First, Li came to visit. I did go to the gym (and brought her with me) on a Saturday morning, but the other several days I just wanted to hang with my best friend and get some well-needed rest.

As soon as she was gone I was planning on going back. Unfortunately, I got sick. I had some kind of cold or maybe a mild flu. I was tired and dizzy and stuffy and generally miserable, so exercising was just out of the question.

After I got better I started going back, until my ankle exploded. Fun times. The doctor told me to stay off of it for two to three weeks, so I did two weeks (I was itching to get back onto that treadmill) and took it a bit easier for about a week.

THEN.

Maybe this is TMI, but THEN I developed a raging UTI. Have you ever had one of those? Did it make you want to walk on the treadmill? Or walk at all? Nope.

So I went back to the doctor and got antibiotics and went on my merry way. At this point, we had been spending a ton of time working on the kitchen, getting it ready for cabinets, so there just wasn't much time to go work out, even when my symptoms had subsided.

Unfortunately, that relief was short-lived. Ugh. My symptoms came BACK, like BAM, so suddenly...awesome. So I went BACK to the doctor and they tested me again and apparently Macrobid does absolutely nothing (at least in me, I'm a medical mystery) and it had gotten worse, even though the symptoms had gone way for a while. The doctor prescribed a different antibiotic, in a larger dose for a longer duration, and I went on my merry way.

Cipro has a few warnings. One is to avoid eating dairy and taking the meds at the same time (which wasn't a problem, really) and the other is NOT TO EXERCISE. Especially if you have tendonitis in your Achilles tendon OH LOOK THAT'S ME. Because apparently Cipro makes it worse and you could actually end up badly damaging your tendons. Super. It's also been making me extremely nauseated and bloaty (TMI again, I know) so that doesn't make me want to exercise, anyway. I totally threw up at work. Gross.

I just took my last dose! Yay!

So tomorrow...it's back to the gym. And I'm going to get skinny if it kills me.