The Adventures (and Delirium) Continue

OK, so all my stuff is in the new apartment and most of it is put away; not bad. Our new town is even more peaceful and beautiful than the other one, and we just love it. Pirate Boy keeps begging me to take him fishing; he can see the lake from our upstairs window, and it's just teasing him apparently. Yeah, the kids are out of school and pretty happy about that. (Kindergarten graduation was the cutest thing in the world, let me tell you.)

In other news, I managed to get myself and the kids to Colorado and back without too much trouble, even in the stadium during commencement, which is very little short of a miracle. Certainly it's a miracle I'm deeply grateful for. Another one is that The Man seems to have actually graduated-- or will have, once he pays his debt to the school. Not too bad.

I haven't gotten much paying work accomplished lately, partly because of the aforementioned stuff and partly because of massive migraine attacks. I have been working as much as possible, but all that's going to change soon. My two paying jobs are about to end, and I have nothing else in sight. (So I guess my rent won't go up after all.) I have to admit being secretly pleased; I've been looking for a way to finish writing a novel or two, and now I don't have anything (except the kids) to distract me from that. You guys keep bugging me about it and maybe it'll get done.

But meanwhile, I've got this little bit of surgery tomorrow. Actually, it's a pretty big bit of surgery, but I should be feeling better in a few days. I hope. My kids are pretty worried I won't make it through, poor little guys. So, if you're the praying kind... for my kids' sake... drop God a line for me? Thanks.

Bloody Weather

Yeah, it's been a weird weather day, as you may have heard. Twisters everywhere, power outages, school lockdowns, hail-battered cars. One of the guys TM's working with this week heard the following from a friend in a bit of a quandary: "I tried to go to work, but when I got there the building was gone. So I went home-- well, I tried to..." You guessed it, that was gone, too.

On the other hand, TM got out of work early. And our therapist canceled our appointment tonight. ("Marriage Counseling Called on Account of Tornadoes" makes an awesome headline, don't you think?) But since we had a sitter already, we got to have a date-- a REAL date. We saw Indiana Jones 4 and it was heaven. (Me: "Cate Blanchett?! Really?!") And the kids had fun, too. So it was good for us.

[P.S. I totally wanna be Cate Blanchett.]

Currently

I have 3 days' worth of work stacked up. I'm also just finishing/finished (I hope) a 3-day migraine and a 3+-day root canal. I feel like I've got a 72-hour virus. So instead of working, I'm goofing off. Go ahead, call me a slacker. I'll slap you when I can see straight again.

Dashing Through...

... the snow, yes, and a lot of other muck. So much going on lately. So much I want to write about. No time. Cold cold cold. Sick kids, sick husband, sick self. Over and over. Lots of work to do, no money to pay any bills at all. Creditors calling. Maybe help will come in time. Borrowing medicine from the neighbors. Finding out that I'm not crazy after all. Having writers yell at me and bosses praise me. Realizing that I'm actually better off than some people. Feeling guilty about being so miserable. Whatever whatever. Goodnight. More later.

What's Up

Sick again. Don't know whether this has anything to do with the additional foot of snow we got this week, but maybe... Missed writer's group again because of it. They're gonna think I don't love them anymore.

#1 Son is at his first jujitsu exhibition tonight. He's already an orange belt, or is it brown? He's gotten both, I just can't remember which is which. All this as part of the wonderful school we send the kids to. I totally love it.

As I mentioned a while ago, we got a photo taken of our family, enough to send to all our friends and relatives. The photo cost $10; now we can't afford postage. I feel pretty silly. Well, eventually TM will get a job and we'll have some money again. Really. I have to believe it.

Speaking of my dear husband, he interviewed a couple weeks ago for a job that would be absolutely perfect for him-- and would pay twice what he could get around here. (Yeah, it's quite far away, and I don't know how we'd arrange the transportation, but we would. They'd let him telecommute most of the time "once he's settled in" so it would totally be worth it.)

We did take a test drive of a really spiffy new-model SUV recently; the dealership was offering restaurant gift cards. The sales guy was new, so he didn't remember to ask whether we could actually finance a new car before our test drive. Nope, sorry, no income means no sale. Sorry. This is one time when "no" is not the start of the sale.

Don't know what else. I've had a lot on my mind and have mentally composed several posts recently, but I can't remember what about. Maybe it'll come back later. Stay tuned.

I Can't Believe It

I just cannot believe it. Actually, this could have begun the post I was tempted to write last night, which would have been a long whiny rant about how if I hadn't been so darned responsible as to double-check at the last minute, I wouldn't have even known that I was supposed to report for jury duty this morning. And how I'd forgotten when I postponed it originally (it was supposed to be during my family reunion last week) that today was my deadline as well as smack-dab in the middle of Migraine Week. And how I was going to lose out on about $100, which my family could ill afford at this time. And don't get me started about "What am I supposed to do with my kids all day?" That was a good whine.

But guess what? I went to jury duty, the kids went to work with dad, they had a great time, I got dismissed right away, we got home for lunch and a nap, I finished my articles in plenty of time (for the first time ever) and have actually been working on other people's! Punkin Boy fell asleep early, so bedtime was very quiet, and Pirate Boy promises to sleep till noon tomorrow. (Don't you believe it; but it's very nice of him.)

Whew! I am not staying up past midnight tonight. Must get rid of the puffy eyes from crying my self-pitying loser self to sleep last night. And I'll probably have no work at all to do tomorrow. Can you believe how sweet life is?

Psycho Babble

Just had to share: I got an email from a long-lost high-school friend who says she's been reading my blog (but not commenting, you'll notice-- the punk!). She adds that she ran into another, even longer-lost friend, who was my best buddy in grade school, and gave me a little news about her, too. I'm so psyched! Maybe Classmates.com is worth something, after all.

I want this job at my favorite chocolate factory, but I can't have it because of my back. Do you think I can persuade TM to take a crack at it? (Did someone say "crack addict"? Yep, I'm hooked on chocolate.)

Meanwhile, I'm avoiding doing my work. I'm getting editor (I almost typed "idiot" rather Freudianly) burnout already. Need to be independently wealthy so that I can focus on my writing instead. Overdrawn and behind on the bills just isn't cutting it.

Still, my children have a roof over their heads despite nearly 2 years without me bringing home the bacon. And they're showing signs of becoming such overachieving super-geniuses as the world hasn't seen since the passing of Isaac Asimov (oops, sorry, Brother Card). So it's not all bad.

Nose to the Grindstone, Sorta

Lucky me, deadline falls right smack in the middle of Migraine Week. I did edited 40 articles one deadline day last month, though, so I'm sure I can do it again. Yeah, I'm sure I can. I don't even have to bake a cake this time.

What I'm working on recently: "How to Deal with Premenstrual Irritability" (also "How to Breed Peafowl" and "How to Grow a Beard"-- all from one author!); I learn so much with this job.

The little guys have been very very good today, which I totally need. #1 Son has been weird and mopey. (Teen years approaching, did I say?) A little more initiative and independence would serve him well.

The Man IM's me to say he's thinking of coming home early because of the heat, again. Can someone please tell me why anybody would stick their IT department in a building with no air conditioning? TM works on the second floor, and it's hovering around 100 degrees, again. Yack. Well, that'll be some help with the kids, maybe.

Me, at Midnight, Again

I named my blog ages ago when I was working more than full-time trying to support my family, and the only time I had to myself when I could write was after I lost lucidity, sometime in the wee hours of the night. I felt kind of silly after I lost my job and could blog just about anytime I wanted to. I could just hear people wondering "What's up with the 'midnight' thing? She only posts at lunchtime..."

Well, I'm back to the witching hour, when I have any time at all, that is. And it is because I'm working again, though for only a fraction of the pay and no benefits at all. Mostly, I don't mind. At least I'm working again and can feel like I'm contributing something to our family's upkeep. (Yes, it was bothering me.) But I'm tired and cranky and I occasionally wonder whether it'll kill me, and whether anyone would miss me if I did.

And then I have these moments of rapturous appreciation from my kids, especially Pirate Boy, who (by virtue of having finally cleaned his room) now has his own email and blog! He thinks he is the coolest thing in the world, and that I'm the coolest mama for having made it possible. Those snuggly hugs are totally worth staying alive for.

P.S. Let me know if you want to visit or write to the little guy, and I'll email you the details. He loves getting mail!

Blah

No word yet on when The Man will get paid. (What? I didn't tell you the story about how the state is stealing our interest-- I mean, keeping its employees' money for an extra few weeks?) I unfortunately know how far off my payday is (at least another month). Sigh. I guess we won't get to buy this.

Easy Come, Easy Go

Yesterday, I was disappointed (to say the least) to learn that the contract for my second job fell through, so I won't be working that one after all. At least this time. They'll try again later. Sigh. I figured it must have been for the best, since I'm struggling just to get my minimum articles done now that the kids are home from school. "I guess I couldn't handle another job," I told myself.

Then this afternoon, the writing project boss called me up and asked, "Are you an editor? Would you like to be an editor for us?" Sweet! Yes and yes, I said. Apparently, the editing is easier and way faster than the writing (go figure), so the editors make pretty decent money. Awwriiighht!

Meanwhile, The Man (TM) is still working 2 jobs, one of which has him for, what, 14 hours just today. That makes my full-time job as a mom a lot more tiring. (Still could be worse--I'm not really a single parent, I keep reminding myself!)

I'm just about recovered from last weekend, with the visit of 8 of my wonderful relatives (including 2 of the cutest nieces anyone's ever had). And it turns out TM's parents will be arriving for a visit either tonight or tomorrow, depending on how fast Dad decides to drive. Whee!

Anybody got a spare nap on them?

WooHOO!

I got a job offer today! It would pay a lot more than I'm making now and be part time work from home. I told them heck yeah, I'm interested. Bring it on!

More Goodness

Just wanted to share some more loveliness that has come our way. First, The Man (TM) got that other job at school (Web development) and was offered another one at the library. How nice to feel able to turn stuff down!

Also, that haircutting school called the other day to ask if anyone at our house wanted a free haircut this week. *waves arm in air, shouting "I do! I do!"* Totally. So today, Pirate Boy and I spent an hour getting our locks lopped. Yes, an entire hour. We have kind of a lot of hair, as every stylist who's worked on us has to remark. Oh, what a relief not to have 80 pounds of hair dragging down my back anymore!

The most wonderful thing so far this week is (fanfare, please): my lilac bushes are blooming for the first time since I planted them! Yes, they are older than Punkin Boy. Yes, they were blooming when I planted them. No, I don't know what their problem was. But they're beautiful now, and I am so going out there and cutting some tomorrow.

Oh, yes, and my kids didn't make my breakfast today. What? Yes, that is a good thing. See, they usually pour the milk and then forget to wake me up... (It must be good, I wolf it down so fast, right?) I love those little monkeys.

Little By Little, We're Getting There

I haven't been around much lately because The Man (TM) has been gone a lot. The good news is that he's been working. Yes, as in at a job. He can't believe his luck to be chosen as a professional A/V geek for his school. OK, it doesn't pay hugely and it's not full-time, but it's a long-term income, and that's a major thing we've been lacking for, oh, the last 19 months or so. Yay, money!

With the kids home from school the past several days, I've had my hands full, and with TM gone so much, it's been kind of a challenge to survive each day. But I'm managing, which is only attributable to the power of prayer; I couldn't do it alone. Now TM is interviewing for a Web programmer job (also for the school), which also won't pay much but will give him experience, and with graduation only a year away (we HOPE), that will be key.

OK, now here's the news I've been brimming over with: I got a contract as a freelance writer, starting immediately! They're even going to pay me for my "audition" piece. Sweet! (Such a relief-- I was beginning to think I'd never work again, after several months without a contract.)

And best news of all, we got our date: May 26 at 3 in the afternoon, we become an eternal family. Go us!

Nails on a Chalkboard

Just in the last 5 minutes that I've been logged on and reading a couple of articles on the net, I've wanted to claw my own eyes out twice because of things people wanting to sound "expert" have written. These fall under the heading Don't Use Unless You Want to Sound Like a Pretentious Git (and Have an Editor Kill You With a Blue Pencil):

• Talking about selling a house at a "high price point" -- I will kill you unless you stop after "price." Get the point?
• Advising a job applicant to include a skill summary so that the reader knows immediately their "value proposition." Dear heavens, who invented that pointless, jargony phrase? They are at the top of my list of people to visit with eggs tonight.

OK, that's all for now. I'm going to have a lie-down. After I brush the bad taste out of my mouth.

In Security

I had this post all planned out in my head last night. I was going to write it up during the day, but then I thought it might be tricky accomplishing that with a preschooler hanging off my elbow or stepping on my shoulders. So I put it off. Naturally, by tonight, I am brain dead and glassy-eyed and can only vaguely remember the topic, which was The Response from the Social Security People to my Disability Application.

When The Man (TM) handed me the envelope and said, "Social Security sends their love," I had the sinking feeling that they had rejected my claim. I didn't want to open it. But I didn't want anyone else to open it, either. So I waited until after dinner (like my appetite wasn't already ruined), popped it open, and scanned down through the bureaucratese to the good stuff. Yep, they rejected me, all right.

Now, I wasn't really surprised and I wasn't really being negative about the situation. TM had thought I was, but then he talked to a bunch of people at school and around town about it, and they all agreed that everyone gets rejected the first time; some even said it takes an average of three tries before you get accepted-- unless you hire a lawyer for your appeal. Then it's almost automatic.

I think it's important to note that in general my esteem for various government agencies is a lot higher on average than most people's simply because I've worked for and with them. (This will come up again later.) But boy, my respect for the SS people just sank.

I remember part of my rant (and believe me, it was going to be a rant-- and probably still is) involved my first reaction to their pronouncement-- specifically, the words "Are you stupid, or just evil?"

Well, my first reaction, after I stopped laughing enough to breathe. Because although they did accept my statement that I can no longer do the job I worked at most recently (i.e., magazine editor), I should easily be able to return to my previous career as an intelligence analyst! Oh, of course! Without the ability to sit or stand very long and with my mind constantly clouded by the pain medicine... sure, involve me in our country's security, have me writing reports that our president will use to determine whether to choose peace or war... sure.

OK, some of you out there are cynically nodding to yourselves and going, yeah, I always knew that was what went on there... except it doesn't. If I even applied to get my old job back, even provided that I had a chance of moving back to the suburban D.C. area, they'd take one look at my test scores and laugh me out of town. Seriously. I'm still laughing, and it's not even funny. (But that link is. Click it and weep.)

OK, so here's the deal. They tell me I have 60 days from receipt of this letter (and they know when I got it, of course) to ask in writing for a hearing in court. Then I have to sign form xyz-590/3 etcetera, etcetera. Then I have to complete an appeal form telling more about my medical condition since I filed my claim. THEN, a judge will inform me (by the ever-trusty US Postal Service) when my appeal hearing will be. It is bound to be impossible to make. They feel the need to tell me, however, in BIG BOLD PRINT that it is important to go to the hearing. 'Cause I'm stupid or something.

Only, apparently, I'm not. This was their reasoning behind denying my claim. And I quote:

"Although these conditions may cause you concern, a recent exam showed that you are able to think, reason, communicate, remember and follow instructions, and act in your own best interest."

Because any condition short of Terri Schiavo's is not the same as, or anywhere near as bad as, being disabled. I begin to sense a plan here. A plan to save Social Security. The means are simple: Never pay out any claims again! Mwahahahahaha!

No, seriously. I'm starting to get the feeling that the answer to my earlier question is the second option. But then TM picks up the letter from where I've dropped it in my gales and convulsions of laughter. He starts reading about the hearing stuff. "You have the right to an attorney... if you cannot afford an attorney... groups who can help... Wait. If you hire an attorney, we will withhold 25 percent of your benefits." Uh huh. And this is because what? Oh yes, because if you hire a lawyer, you're almost certain to win the appeal, and therefore....

I think we have our answer to the earlier question: evil.