Our favorite game, Covid-19, Anxiety or Psychosomatic!

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 29, 2020

Ok, so I decided I'm going to blog my journey, hopefully it's a very short, boring blog where I post tomorrow that I'm  negative, going back to work and the end.

I work as a receptionist at a veterinary clinic in Southeast Louisiana, USA. It has been open with slightly reduced hours since the quarantine began. I have been working full time, using a mask, washing my hands, sanitizing myself and my work space as directed.

I live with my family: husband who works as a stocker at a home improvement store, oldest daughter who works at a coffee place (she just got back from a voluntary 30 day paid break), adult son who works at a fast food restaurant (working part time and remotely going to college full time), and two younger teen children who are not working.

On Monday evening, April 27, I started feeling chilled and body/muscle aches. My neck was sore, I had a head ache, just not feeling well. I am obese and have hypertension so breathing is sometimes difficult just on that alone. My chest felt a little heavy but not anything super out of the normal. I took my temperature. It was 99.4. My temperature normally runs around 97.8 or so. Not super high but I definitely felt feverish. I was also exhausted and weak. I worked but not ridiculously long hours, from 8 am to 4 pm...not a super strenuous shift, and I got a good night sleep the night before, but by 7 pm I couldn't keep my eyes open and the thought of the effort to go take a shower and go to bed seemed impossible. I texted my boss and a coworker and got my next day shift covered.

I took a quick bath and went to bed. The next morning I felt ok. Still a little achey and sore but ok. Chest maybe a little tight but, again, being at my weight it's hard to tell what's something to worry about. My temp was a nice normal 97.8. I texted my boss and coworker, said I should be able to work the closing shift.

By afternoon, I was feeling poor again. No chills, just a bit achey and my chest felt more tight and taking a deep breath was just a bit more effort than normal. So, I texted my boss and coworker and let them know I wouldn't be in. I took my temp. At 5:48 it was 98.8. At 7:10 it was 99.8. It stayed about that all night.

I went to my health insurance app and did a virtual doctor's visit. He advised me to self quarantine, stay home for 7 days after symptoms started and at least 72 hours after any fever without fever relief medication. I asked about testing and he advised that testing is available but it would be treated the same regardless of the results. He said the test was entirely up to me. I asked for a test.

In this time, I've had some stomach upset. Firm bowel movements but cramping and having to go a little more frequently. I do have IBS that is triggered by anxiety.

This morning, I woke up and my temp was 97.7. I felt ok, a little sore but I slept in my son's bed instead of my own so probably from that. When I got to the testing site, my temperature was 98.8, oxygen sat was 96% and pulse was 89. They did the swab and said it would be 24/48 hours for results.

Now, I'm at home, resting, laying in bed typing this out. I'm feeling a bit weak and tired, possibly because I slept like crap and it's 10 pm (past my regular bed time). My temp a few moments ago, around 9:45 was 99.8 again.

Also, my stomach is very crampy tonight. Loose poo and smells worse than normal. Again, very normal with anxiety and my IBS but just tossing it in here as observation. 

Going to watch some tv and try to sleep. I will update in the AM.

Perspective

So, I’m trying my new Chromebook for writing. Not sure where it’s gonna go but I’m making some big changes in life and being less adrift and more directed. 42 years old and my job isn’t guaranteed so I need to get myself together and figure out this adulting thing. First step, documenting my thoughts and feelings. I know I’ve made promises to write more and failed, and I’m not going to do the “this time will be different” thing, but I really do want to do better. So, here goes another chance.

To introduce myself, I’m Naji. Mom of four, wife of one, lover of many. My current employment position is Animal Control Officer. Because of local politics, that is threatened so I don’t know what the future holds, but then, do any of us? Aren’t we all just a misstep, an accident, an illness, or a sweep of good luck away from something completely different? We’re a moment away from an entirely different life we never predicted for ourselves, but that becomes our reality and our future.

I think quite a bit about that. I drive a lot for work, and I work in some fairly precarious situations. One aggressive dog that gets away from me and my life could take a dramatic turn. One inattentive driver and things could be totally different. It’s not the same as living in fear, because I’m not afraid, really, I’m just aware of how quickly things change.

Anyway, as I said, I’m Naji. I’m planning to have more of an online presence, start a vlog and do regular blogs. I really don’t know what all, for sure. Plus I want to work on my novel. I have four children, the oldest is 21, ciswoman, coming quickly onto 22, and living the reality of being a young adult in current society. The second is 18, cisman, and looking toward college and his future. Then there’s another cisgirl who is almost 16. She’s not in school because of her anxiety, and that gives me anxiety. Then there’s the cisboy who is 11, going into 6th grade, and a daily challenge.

Raising children is an interesting endeavor. There are these people looking to me to provide guidance, care, protection, and form them into functional adults that can make a positive contribution to society. There are so many resources to learn how to do things “right” but the wild card is that each child is an individual, with individual thoughts, needs, wants, and ideas. So what works great for most 11 year olds won’t do anything for mine. What works for mine won’t work for somebody else. That’s a harsh learning curve as a parent, because we want to give advice to others and be able to take advice, but too often somebody’s advice might help a little but it doesn’t do as much as they think it will, and sometimes it doesn’t help at all. Yet, we give advice from our own perspective, thinking that’s what others perceive. Unfortunately, each of us has our own way of viewing the world and experiencing things, and dealing with those experiences. So, when we share advice based on our experiences and perceptions, another person doesn’t necessarily share that point of view or perceive the situation the same.

Perception is such an interesting thing. In current culture, we are becoming more aware of how our actions are perceived by those around us. As an example, a woman is walking down the sidewalk. A man smiles at her and says “nice dress!”. His intention is not of ill will, he simply meant to convey that her dress is pretty, he found her attractive and it was the first thing he thought to say to start a conversation and see if she was receptive. To her, it was simple compliment. She smiled and said “Thank you” and continued on her way. That was the end of the encounter. A woman sitting nearby, however, witnessed the encounter. She had previously been stalked and assaulted by a man who had simply complimented her hair. To her, this man is being aggressive and frightening. She feels afraid for the other woman’s safety.

Are any of them wrong? No, their feelings are genuine. None of them has any further information from the encounter. The frightened woman could have been right. It gets overwhelming when we begin to second guess our every move, wondering if what we are doing or saying is going to be perceived as aggressive, mean, dismissive, or in any way beyond how we intend it to be. One of our first instincts is to become defensive. That’s not what I meant! You’re being too sensitive! It was just a joke! Why can’t you take a compliment?

What we have to understand is that the way a person receives our message is not in our hands. We cannot dictate how something affects another person. What we have control over is how we handle their expression of their feelings. When a person expresses their feelings, they are entrusting us with part of themselves. We have to be cautious that we don’t take that expression and damage it. We cannot diminish their feelings, we should not dismiss them, we should not expect them to change how they feel about something. A feeling isn’t controlled. It’s the immediate reaction we have to stimuli.

So, if somebody says that something you have said or done has upset them, don’t dismiss their feelings. Put yourself in their position and think how you would want to be treated if you were upset by something. Empathize with them and realize they are not attacking you any more than you were attacking them. Recognize that their feelings and response is valid then try to express what you meant in a way that isn’t as confrontational.

This healing and recovery process is slow...It's so hard not to take the bait, and teetering on the edge of full separation but not ready to do that, don't really want to...but every other day is some other guilt trip.

I don't want to feel like a bad daughter who took advantage. I don't want to be made to look like the bad guy who kicked a sad old woman out into the cold. I have to get over that fear because no matter what happens, there will be those who see me that way. Those who don't understand the years and years that I suffered. Or those who think that you are supposed to suffer for your parents, they're your parents and you're supposed to love them unconditionally.

I don't have broken bones, I don't have bruises or scars. Not that anyone can see. And all I have is my point of view, so few have actually seen my perspective, because that's how narcissism works...She doesn't realize what she's done. She doesn't realize what she continues to do. She doesn't realize what the guilt has done, how much my health and life has suffered, how much I fear that I am just like her.

I think that is the hardest part. She doesn't know. And there is no way to tell her. I could sit down and pour my heart out (I actually have) and it comes back to bite me in the ass. I "can't let anything go" from the same person who reminds me regularly about how I broke a figurine when I was two. I "exaggerate" or I am too sensitive.

One of the stories I hear the most is how, at less than 2 days old, I got my first spanking. I was "spoiled" and didn't want to be put down. That was how I was raised, believing that I was born spoiled, that I never had a chance, that I am selfish and only pretty on the outside (which I never even believed that much). I don't know how many times I was told that I was ugly on the inside. How selfish I was. Lazy..that's a favorite and one of my triggers. I *HATE* that word, and to be called lazy will trigger me into that 7 year old little girl with anxiety and a "nervous stomach" who doesn't want to do anything because even if I do, it's not good enough.

She posted a meme on my wall that had a list of things "your mother never told you"...one of them was "it hurt every time you cried"

Except, I can't believe that. She seemed to glory in making me cry, in saying exactly what it would take to dig deep into me and hurt me the most. I can't imagine that she would continue to do that KNOWING what it would do...if it hurt her. I think maybe it hurt her to see me cry when it wasn't her doing, but I think part of her enjoyed having that power over me..and I think that's what started making things come to an end, when I stopped caring enough to let it hurt me to the point that it would make me cry like that...that was when I started growing a backbone and realizing what she was doing.

Day 1, Jan 8, 2015

Such a mixture of emotions I am feeling right now.

I will post an update on my history with my mother and go into that, but just to get started I'm starting to shift into a different mode. Yesterday on the way home was elation..last night was joy. Today has been a relief but tonight I am starting to feel anxious. What if yesterday was the last time I ever see my mother? What if it's NOT?

Do I really want to see her again? Do I want her to have ANY part in my life anymore? Am I ready to take the step to completely separate from her? Or am I going to be ok just being casual and doing periodic updates and phone calls?

I don't know exactly what she is thinking. She pretty much made it clear that she believes we are kicking her out (that *I* am kicking her out) even though she has spent the past 18 years talking about "when I get out of this hell hole of a house"...So, does she even want to maintain a relationship with me? And if she does not, how do I feel about that?

I just don't know yet. I'm working on it and the emotions are in turmoil and I just plain don't know how I feel. My stomach is sick right now, I looked at her facebook page to see if she has logged on and I saw her picture and my stomach flipped.

We had tacos tonight and nobody bitched about all the spicy food or all the damn cheese or taunted me about how I was going to burn it. And I didn't burn anything, it turned out pretty damn good.

I'm doing it. I'm trying to get in shape. I've tried before and always fizzled out..but this time I have a different goal. I don't care if I lose weight or inches. I just want to feel better. I want to be strong again. I want to be able to walk up the stairs without feeling like I need a nap afterward. If weight comes off, great, but I'm not expecting it. My thyroid has pretty much proven to me that I am not in control of that aspect, but I can control how I feel.

So, Greg and I have been doing the Wii Active..granted I'm only 4 days in, and already had one rest day, and have the weekend of rest coming up, but I think I'm already feeling a little better. Maybe it's psychosomatic, just thinking I'm doing something is making me feel better...I honestly don't care, as long as I feel better, it can all be in my head or not, I like it!

I'm also gradually going to start working on my dietary issues. The problem with that is right now we are so broke we are literally eating just what we can afford...so we buy according to price rather than nutrition. Will it feed all of us? Is it in the budget? That's what we buy. Thankfully, beans and rice are fairly healthy LOL.

These financial problems have to come to an end. We have Andrea's birthday party on Sunday and I'm completely at a loss as to how we are going to get the things to do it...we have enough to get her cake but not the hot dogs and hamburgers for people...and we have forgotten about trying to do goodie bags or anything. Maybe next year, when the van is paid off and we have dug ourselves out a bit. I can't believe I have let us get to this point. I am really kicking myself right now for not planning better.

So, I've been introspective the past few days and have been thinking...there are a lot of things about me that other people might not know, or might know but think *I* don't know about myself. I am always a little taken aback when I say something about myself and somebody comments "Wow, I can't believe you admitted that" as if I don't know myself. Are there that many people who are just kind of blind to themselves?

I am obese. I'm not "fluffy" or "a little heavy". I'm fat. I admit it. It's mostly my fault. I don't eat as I should, I definitely am not as active as I should be, and I have a depressive and thyroid disorder that exacerbates my own poor decisions. The thyroid doesn't make me fat so much as it makes it frustrating to try to lose weight. Most people, if they simply take in fewer calories than they burn, make sure they are burning some calories, will see some weight loss. For me, it takes a bit more than that. I sometimes joke that my metabolism is in reverse, but it's almost true. For other people, if they are seeing progress, they can give themselves a small cheat, a prize, and it won't hurt anything. For me, it seems to completely undo everything that I've done and I wind up back at the beginning. Add to that my enviable lack of self control when it comes to yummy things, and you see where my problem lies.

Along this same line, I am exceedingly lazy. Seriously. I abhor housework and have found myself many times living in conditions that would curl most people's toenails. I could wax philosophical and blame my upbringing, as my mother was inconsistent with what she expected, and to this day doesn't seem able to clean up without getting angry, so I associate cleaning with anger, and I hate being angry, it drains me, it makes me physically sick to my stomach. Is this why I don't pick up? I don't know. I just know that I have a hard time getting myself to do it. I make myself a schedule and try to stick to it, make it a week and that's it.

I am socially awkward. I don't feel as though I get along well with people. I don't know if they recognize this, but I feel as though I am being scrutinized and as soon as I'm out of the room eyes roll and exasperation follows me. "Can you believe she actually said that?" "What was she thinking?" "Does she ever brush her hair?" "How could she leave the house looking like that?" "Thank goodness she left" or "And there she goes, ducking out early as usual". Perhaps this is another reason I don't pick up. If my house is dirty, I have a ready excuse not to invite anyone over. And just typing that, the little voice in my head said "like anyone would come over if you invited them.."

I am overly concerned with what others think of me. Sometimes this gets to the point of compromising my own standards to keep with the status quo. I have some very strong opinions, but I rarely speak on them, particularly if I am in a group of people who might feel differently. I will do just about anything I can to avoid confrontation face to face.

I have an extremely hard time trusting people. I avoid actually having to rely on people as much as I can. However, I have a hard time saying no to others if they need help with something. I've gotten better at it, but it still nags at me if somebody needs something and I could help but I just don't, no matter how out of my way it would be or how much it would take away from whatever else I have going on.

I am what I think of as passively suicidal. I think about it probably every day, several times a day. I have attempted it in the past, and thought about it more than that more recently. It's difficult to talk about. I tell myself that it is the ultimate selfish action a person can make, no matter how selfless they think it is. When I'm at my darkest times, I believe deep down that those around me would be much better off if I was not polluting their lives. I feel that my children deserve a much better mother and I still can't see what keeps my husband around. But, I have to convince myself that these are delusions, this is an illness and it is not the truth. No child has ever said "thank god my mother killed herself" and my children will not be different. I tell myself that it is NOT selfish to want to see what they become and how they decide to live their lives. This is an active inner dialogue I have with myself rather frequently.

Now, I know that some will read that last paragraph and become incredibly worried. Please don't. I am not actively suicidal. If I get down like that and I cannot convince myself that it is not selfish, I will call somebody, and I know there are people I can rely on. I also make sure that I don't have anything around the house that would be easy to use to do it. Please don't think that I am in imminent danger. I am simply sharing what goes on in my own head so that somebody might be able to better understand why I act the way I do sometimes, or maybe even somebody feels the same and can commiserate and see that we can live through these feelings.

I know that I am ill. I know that what I think and feel is unhealthy. I am medicated, which helps a LOT with my feelings. I also know that there is no "fix" to what is wrong with me. I know that it's just a matter of managing what I am feeling and learning to live with it.

So, I had a person in my dream last night who I haven't seen in a while. He started appearing to me via my dreams just over 15 years ago. He has strawberry blond hair and an impish smile that is contagious. His brilliant blue eyes can reach into your soul and his cute little mouth has full, bow shaped lips.

Usually, when he appears, he's between a year and two years old, but last night he was a bit older, maybe 8 or 9. I know in my heart who he is, though he doesn't have a name and I never saw his face or held him in my arms. Thinking about it, he would be almost 15 right about now. Heck, I don't even know if he was actually a he, but it was right after the miscarriage that my angel baby started visiting me, so I think he was. He visits me most often right before a big change, so maybe something's coming up..the  move or a job or something, but he usually is a sign of something positive. He always makes me happy when I see him.

But, his visit last night and other recent things going on have had me thinking a lot about the loss of a child. It's devastating, no matter the circumstances, and a lot of times it's something that a parent never gets over. I mean, how do you get over something like that? Most often, you don't, you just learn how to keep going.

See, about 15 1/2 years ago, I had a miscarriage. I was devastated, it was the worst day of my life. There were a lot of things going on and, honestly, in hind sight, it was the best possible outcome considering where I was in life. I was only 8 weeks pregnant and it was "just one of those things". No real rhyme or reason to why I lost the baby, but now I know in my heart that it was a sign that I was not where I needed to be and it happened to shake me up and make me grow up.

I've had one other miscarriage, when we were trying to conceive with Alyssa, but for some reason that one didn't shake my foundation like the first. I don't know if it was because I was more stable, both with myself, but with the world around me, I was in a safe place and had support that I didn't have the first time, or if it was just that I had more life experience or what. But, that first one is still with me. I like to believe that his little spirit is with me, watching me, and helping me along. Heck, he may have been my guide all my life and just chose that time to manifest as that little person, I don't know.

But, I almost feel bad saying that I've lost a child. Compared to friends who have lost babies after longer pregnancies, who had either a premature birth and lost the child, or who delivered a baby who wasn't alive, an 8 week miscarriage is small potatoes. I never felt him kick, never heard his heartbeat, never got a chance to pick out a name for him or buy him clothes or toys or set up a nursery for him. I don't have any physical reminders of the possibility of his life.

But I still have that sore spot where he'll always live. That thought of "what if?" even though I know that scenario would not be what was meant to happen, that if that had continued, I would not have the four beautiful and amazing children I have today, or be in the place I am today. You see, it was just a few months after that miscarriage that I got pregnant with my oldest daughter. In fact, within a year of that miscarriage, I had gotten married and had my daughter.

But, I think I will always have that smiling blue eyed boy with me. And I'm ok with that.

Slipping into darkness. I feel it. I've felt it for a bit now but today was the last straw. I'm not sure how long I can fight it. Just the other day, when I donated blood, I wondered just what would happen if, right after I got home, I took off the tourniquet, ran a hot hot bath, picked the clot, and let the blood flow. Would Greg cry? Would he just shrug and keep going? Would the kids really be as much better off as my chemically imbalanced brain thinks they would be? Without me there to drag them down, to set such a bad example. If they didn't have somebody so flawed to rely on, who continually lets them down and fails them? How much of that perception is real and how much of it is my illness? I don't know. May never know.

After today I feel like 10x more of a failure. I have let them down even more. They deserve so much better. Why was I made to be their mother, why was it me? Why couldn't I have been unable to have children, never given the opportunity to ruin lives in such a profound way. Why do I have such an amazing man who puts up with all of my flaws, I don't deserve any of it. But, if I turn away, give up, throw in the towel, that's the ultimate failure, isn't it? Just proving that yes, I am far too flawed to fix, the ultimate fail from a lifetime of fails. I'm not going to do it, but it's so fucking tempting. It's just so hard to face every day, realizing I'm just going to let people down that much more.

On a completely different note, I have recently gotten in touch with some old "friends" on Facebook. These are people that, honestly, I am really surprised that they are on there. They just don't seem the type to really be into social networking, ya know?

Anyway, seeing all the old names, I dug out my old photo album and scanned and uploaded a lot of old pictures. Of course, that sent me strolling down memory lane and I've had a lot of conflicting memories and feelings coming up.

You see, I was not a nice, calm, well mannered teenager. No, I was pretty much as far from that as one can get. I was promiscuous, I was into drugs and drinking and partying. I was involved with people that I would probably have a heart attack if one of my children came in and said "hey mom, meet my new friends".

Oh Naji, you say, you couldn't have been THAT bad. All kids make mistakes, all kids hang with the "wrong people" here and there...look at you now! Mom to 4 kids (all from the same man, to whom you are still married!), lower middle class military family, you don't drink except for random rare occasions, no drugs...Nobody who was THAT bad could be where you are now!

Really. Here are my stats:
Kissed my first boy at 12 (on a dare)
Had intercourse for the first time a few months before I turned 14 (on my neighbor's dog's bed)
My husband was the 29th man I had intercourse with, and I had sex with another guy the night after my husband and my first date, making the total an even 30.
No, I cannot remember all of their names. This was in a short 7 year span, as I was 20 when I met my husband.
I got drunk and high the first time at 14. For a while when I was 18/19 I pretty much stayed stoned on marijuana (pretty much woke up to a joint and went to bed with a bowl).
My junior year of high school was pretty much spent on LSD.
I've also done cocaine and various pills and I honestly can't remember what all else.

So, here I am, kind of peeping into the lives of these people who rode along with me on my bumpier parts of life's journey. Why would I even want to look back at that? Because, deep down (or maybe not so deep) a part of me....misses it...? No, that doesn't sound right. I wouldn't go back to that lifestyle for anything. But, I do reminisce and get nostalgic. I think back and I hate to admit but some of the memories are fond. I cared about these people..I still do. I want to know that they are well.

Not so bad, you may say. They were your old friends. But honestly, I don't know if they really were ever my friends. I don't know if any of them felt anything toward me. You see, I spent a large portion of that time numbed. I was an undiagnosed depressive who was self medicating with sex and drugs. I didn't feel as though anyone cared anything for me, and that I really didn't deserve it even if they did. Which brings me back to, why would I want to look back at this time in my life? Haven't I come so far from that?

Appearances say yes, I've come a LONG way. But I still harbor some of the same self loathing. I wonder if, looking over these people, I may be somehow lancing that wound, perhaps to let some of the poison out and perhaps do some real healing. Or, I am just a masochist who enjoys my own pain far too much. I don't know.

I'm dealing with another headache. But, I think I have riddled out why. My blood pressure was 143/94. Great. I honestly think that lowering my Synthroid was the wrong decision and I'm going to ask my doctor to refer me to an endocrinologist next appointment. I love my doctor and I really like how he listens to me and pays attention to what I have to say, but I think an endo would be better suited to what I need. I just hope I can get one as cool as Dr. Kabongo.

I went to parent teacher conferences yesterday. Andrea's was about expected I actually talked to Alyssa's teacher about my concerns with her issues. I love her to pieces but there are things that concern me and have for a while now. He feels the same way and when I mentioned that some of the things she does makes me wonder if she might be on the spectrum, he looked relieved and said "well, I didn't want to say anything" so I am going to talk to her pediatrician and maybe even make an appointment with the autism spectrum therapies people, just for an evaluation. I'm honestly not sure how it will go, I don't think she's actually autistic, but she has some tendencies so maybe they will be able to point us in the right direction for therapies that will help her be able to cope in the world, now that she is getting older and will be facing middle school where the kids can be even more cruel.

Some of the things we've noticed:

She very much lives in her own world. When she does her creative writing, the things she writes almost make sense and when she tells it, it makes sense, but it's not complete thoughts. You can tell that there is a lot that is in her head that doesn't make it to paper.

She has little hand "tics" that she does, where she fiddles with her fingers or puts her fingers in front of her face, kind of like a "I'm squishing your head" thing, but she gets EXTREMELY embarrassed if you catch her.

She is and has always been a very literal person. If you say "it's 8:00" and it's 7:59, she just doesn't get it..she doesn't get estimates...Sarcasm is a totally foreign language to the child...In fact, the first time she smarted off to me with something smart assed, I almost swallowed my tongue, it was just so un-Alyssa...and when it worked she looked so pleased with herself. It was almost like Lieutenant Commander Data telling a joke.

She fixates on things. Her teacher says that lately, every spare minute of her class time, time she should be reading or working on homework, she has been copying a play that she's been reading. She told him that by copying it, she can understand it better, but she is hand writing this play word by word.

She also has this white board that she uses at school, and he said for a while there, she would leave little notes to herself on it. For instance, on Thursday, she would write "God morning Alyssa! It's Friday!" so when she came in on Friday morning, it would be there for her. Now she has turned it into a calendar where she has the days for the holiday marked and so on. He said it's just not "normal"...

She tests extremely well, though, and definitely knows her school work. But, she doesn't turn in her homework. She's just an interestingly unique child. I figure talking to somebody won't hurt and maybe we'll get her some tools she can use to handle growing up a little better. I don't want to change her, for sure, but I want her to be happy and healthy.

I met a new friend today. She seems very nice. A good ole southern girl. She has three kids, a 3 1/2 year old boy, a 1 1/2 year old little girl and a 6 week old little boy. I've just been so jaded at meeting new people, I have a hard time really thinking "yes, this might actually be a friend for me" *sigh*.

Right now, I'm sitting here, looking at SpiceCat sitting on the couch. She is such an interesting looking cat. If I ever wanted to be able to communicate with animals, she's one I want to talk with. It's just so hard to read what's going on with her. Boobookitty and Lucy are easy to read, for the most part. SpiceCat is a mystery.

I did a little gardening today. Sort of. I repotted my prayer plant into a bigger pot, added some dirt to my pothos and watered them really good and repotted my dandelions. I hope they grow. On the positive side, my catnip actually seems to be growing and doing well. Perhaps it will survive?

I keep going over in my head what we will be able to do once pay is straightened out and we get our income tax. We should be getting something like $900 more than normal once they get our pay issues straightened out. When pay gets straight, I want to give Greg a big chunk, because he's been without any fun money this whole trip, just about. But, I also want to get things caught up so that we can relax a little bit around here. But, I'm thinking, if nothing else, we can put things off until income tax. With that, I'm going to pay off our van. Then, that will give us $560 a month that I can put $150 or so straight into savings. The rest will go toward snowballing down our credit cards and other debts. This year will be spent getting us dug out of our hole and then next year (2012) we will be able to get Greg's Charger and relax. Plus, after we get back from our trip back home this summer, I'll be doing my damnedest to get me a job. I just need to get my butt in gear and finish these classes.