Bumps and bruises and motherly concern ...

My Mom called this morning to let me know that Michael has been coughing for the past two days and nights to the point that she's concerned that he has something horrible.  She took him in to the pediatric clinic where he insisted to the doctor (apparently coughing the whole time) that there was nothing wrong with him.  He has a nasty bit of sinusitis, probably an opportunistic infection from the combination of allergies, being tired from travel, and exposure to a whole different breathing environment. 

Thank God I was able to pick up an extra shift this weekend. 

I miss my guys. 

I still haven't cleaned the apartment like I want to.  And I'm not going to do it tonight either.  I'm going to bed.

*hugs*

My New Hobby

I have a new hobby and it's addictive.  I'm depositing money into my savings account - daily.  I don't care if it's just a dollar, every day I make some kind of deposit, and no, I'm not turning around and withdrawing it immediately. 

I've never been what you'd call, "good with money" in that most people who earn that title actually have money to be good with.  But I am someone who tries very hard to be responsible and to spend less than my income.  This past year has been particularly difficult for me because my income has been roughly a LOT less than my outgo.  But I'm gradually turning that around and I hope that by the end of the summer I'll be seeing a savings balance in the high three figures. 

I'm a little worried about eating this summer.  Not about whether or not I can afford to eat, but about the sheer amount my co-workers seem determined to set before me.  My resistance to excellent food has never been strong and it's especially hard for me to say "no" when the people offering it to me have such excellent intentions.  Yesterday, I was dragging pretty bad and the cook, Avino, pulled me aside, "Amiga?  Le Gustas tacos?"  Uh yeah! "Uno? dos? cinco?"  I told him that "dos" would be plenty - but did he let me help?  No, he piled dos tacos with meat, onions, guacamole and chile ... btw - this is a recipe we don't have on the menu at Mimi's.  When things get slow in the afternoon, the cooks cook for themselves.  Avino decided that I needed to be drawn into the circle to share in the goodies. 

Today?  The kitchen manager, Asheesh, caught me.  "Terri are you hungry?  You look hungry."  I'm okay.  "I don't really think you're okay - here - take this salad and don't come out of the breakroom til its gone."  Um, the salad he put in my hands?  Bleu cheese and walnut?  With strawberries and craisins and tomatoes ... just HAPPENS to be my favorite of the many wonderful salads we have on our menu.

I was remarking to my friend, Mary, that I'm not sure what has happened to me over the past couple of years.  I don't think of myself as the kind of person that other people need to take care of.  I know that at the restaurant and elsewhere, I have a certain amount of, ahem, pride, ahem cough, invested in pulling at least my own weight.  But I am learning that for whatever reason, people around me are feeling compelled to take care of me and while I'm a long way from having any expectation that it's going to happen, I'm at least not so totally uncomfortable when it does - anymore.   

I've had two days of quiet, and to be honest, I still haven't gotten caught up enough on my sleep for it to really sink in that I'm all alone here.  The apartment looks like a hurricane had its way with papers and kids' stuff and I know that sooner or later I have several days of uninterrupted cleaning that will be required to set it all to rights.  But for now, I'm working, sleeping and indulging in this daily little high that I get from extracting that deposit slip from the cannister at the bank. 

Best Laid Plans ...

I was planning that today would start off a summer of happy summer reading reports, discussions of books that were interesting diversions from the ordinary grind.  I never posted my summer reading list. 

I made one ...

Does that count? 

Over the previous two days, I drove 1400 miles.  In fact, I drove those miles all within a 34 hour time span.  There was a stop on Oklahoma City where I met my parents.  We went out to dinner, Mom tried to grill me on my future plans and prospects, and then I passed out for a few hours.  Since it was the last night we'd be together for a while, Tucker decided he wanted to sleep with me.  His little feet (little nothing, I just bought him shoes and his feet are almost the same length as mine ...)  but anyway, his feet in the center of my back didn't do a lot for helping me to rest. 

So yesterday, I left out of there at 5:30 am Mountain Time (the time my stomach prefers to live on) with two caffeine tablets washed down by a triple espresso.  That had me humming along nicely until I was well on the other side of Amarillo.  I started to crash somewhere in NorthEastern New Mexico, and I can truthfully say that if it weren't for Augusten Burroughs I'd have had a difficult time staying awake at all for the last two hours.

Several weeks ago I was at the library thinking of my summer reading list and picked up Magical Thinking on cd.  If you haven't yet encountered Mr. Burroughs, he self-describes his life as having sprung out of a horrific childhood, to be wasted on advertising, alcohol, and illicit drugs through his twenties until he sobered up and met his life partner in his early 30's.  He's wickedly funny - and by that I mean he has an evil sense of humor that made me glad I was all alone in my car so no one could see me laughing out loud over the stories he told. 

Some books are okay to hold and read - this is one that I can't imagine enjoying half so much if I weren't listening to his voice recount his adventures.  The methodical execution of a "rat-thing" in his bathtub made me roar.  The battle of wills with a deranged but diminuitive cleaning lady had tears on my cheeks.  And the point at which he took a little side trip from his epiode by episode telling of his life to describe just how he knows that he's "in love" took my breath away. 

Mr Burroughs will not be to everyone's taste.  Because he speaks so candidly on adult and sexual themes, I couldn't have listened to this book if I were in the same County as my children and I'm happy that by the time I popped it in we had the entire state of Oklahoma between us.  On the other hand, I'm a grown-up and even if I'm not a gay man in Manhatten, I could relate to what he was saying about longing to be normal, successful, loved ...

There are still a couple chapters left on the last disk which I'll listen to over the next couple of days, but I highly recommend this work for the writing and the opportunity to take a look at the world through the perspective of a person unlike any other you're likely to encounter this summer. 

Also by Augusten Burroughs: Dry, Running with Scissors

     Since I'm awake at this ungodly hour and I happen to be out of diet coke, I think I'm going to make an early morning run to Wal-mart for my preferred carbonated libation and some hair color.  It strikes me as perfectly reaonable that I should start off my summer by dying my hair an outrageous red color.