Some things are better left to memory...

I did something impulsive and un-thought through today. And, already, I'm regretting it. I opened a door to my past and the part of our lives our family doesn't talk about. I decided that I'm adult enough to handle the consequences of my actions, no matter what they might be. And I hate myself for it. I'm not sure why I feel so justified in opening doors without fully thinking the consequences through.

I do, however, finally feel a feeling of closure. It's almost good to think that now I can say I understand and that while things didn't turn out the way I had hoped (dare I say, dreamed?) they would, they have finally happened and I'm adult enough to know when a door has closed. Or, in this case, gently been shut in my face.

So, I guess that's it. I'm amazingly feeling ok about it. Especially now that I thought my feelings through a little better.

So I didn't make it to work yesterday....

...because I was dying. Not literally. I thought I was, but Vito adamantly reminded me that I wasn't. I did, however, enjoy another day of laying around, watching everything on my DVR, and finding fun and interesting new things to record. All in all, I call it a successful day, even if I wasn't at work.

I find I'm the worst person in the world when I'm sick. I'm needy, melodramatic, and nasty. Nasty as in, Vito found a handful of dirty Kleenex in the bed last night while tucking me in. I could have sworn I found them all, but Kleenex have a tendency to hide in between the top sheet and thermal blanket that I insist on having on the bed at all times. They're like fabric softener sheets, only they don't smell good and they don't keep my cat's fur from clinging to everything when she's pretending to be a jaguar in the jungle in my bed aka Macy's Tent. (OK...I made that part up, but I swear, I think she really does think she's a jaguar. Or a mountain lion.)

All in all, this has been a very unproductive week. And I've thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Snow days and sick days.

I've been out of work since Monday (Monday was a holiday, and the Tuesday and today were snow days). One thing I love about North Carolina is that when it snows, and sticks, people panic. I find myself doing the same thing. I think of all the things I have to have at the grocery (eggs, bread, toilet paper, milk, etc) and then realize I've turned into the very thing I can't stand: a panicking redneck from BFE that can't handle a minor weather event without lapsing into a state of hysteria.

I've enjoyed my days off. I've laid around, watched an over-abundance of television, and did a whole lot of nothing. But, I've missed work, too. I've missed being out of the house, talking to other people, and just generally being busy. It's funny how it can be so hard for me to get up for work in the morning, but I definitely miss it when I'm not there.

I also am coming down with a cold. It actually doesn't surprise me. Of course I would get sick after having several days off from work. It's like my body just knows when I have other things that need to be done, besides laying around in my bed. So, I'll be going to work tomorrow. I'll be drugged up on whatever meds I can, but I'll be there.

I guess my several days of wasting away didn't help my cold go away.

Can we just fastforward today?

I don't know what my deal is today, but I have absolutely no desire to be anywhere except for my bed. Maybe it's the weather (it's dreary and drizzly outside) or maybe it's just sheer exhaustion (I haven't been sleeping much or well lately) or maybe I just wasn't ready to get up this morning (for the 2nd day in a row, I overslept). All I know is, I feel like life should have a fast-forward button. And an easy button. I just wish I could hit the FF button and move on to tomorrow. But, I can't. I have too many responsibilities that are waiting for me to take care of. Le sigh.

Maybe today should be one of those "don't expect too much from me and you won't be disappointed" kind of days. Dear Lord...please let it be one of those days.

My Grandma

For those of you who don't know her, my grandma is 79 years old. She's a little Japanese woman who came to the States in the '50s. She and my Grandfather met while he was stationed in Japan during the War. After lots of drama, my Grandfather married my grandmother and moved her to the States, Indiana to be exact, while she was 7 months pregnant. She gave birth to my Uncle Bob on the boat. My grandfather was no where around. He was living his life in Indiana, waiting for his extremely pregnant wife to get there. My grandma had 6 kids in 4 1/2 years. Do the math. That's often only a month from giving birth to being pregnant again. The lineup goes something like this: Bob, my mom, Terry, Gloria, Charles, and Paula.

I don't have a very fond picture of my grandfather in my mind. I never met the man; he died when my mom was 7. I get the impression he was a good for nothing alcoholic who did nothing put keep my grandmother pregnant and desert her for weeks at a time to go on his drinking binges. This is something I'm almost positive my cousins have never heard about. Except for my Uncle Bob, the rest of my aunts and uncles were too young to remember much about Grandpa and I get the feeling they don't want to taint their children's images of our grandfather.

Now, years later, my Grandma is 79 (she'll be 80 in April) and she's been alone the majority of her life. In the last week, we've been faced with the inevitable decision of what to do now that Grandma requires more medical supervision than my parents (or any of my aunts and uncles for that matter) are able to give. My grandma was admitted to the hospital late Wednesday, early Thursday. She'll be there until Monday. When Monday rolls around, we'll have to have a nursing home ready for her or she stays there until we have one ready for her.

This is where my personal conflict comes in: how do I feel about this? I can't decide if I'm sad, scared for her, worried, happy, relieved, or what. Or maybe I'm just a little of all those things, which mesh together to create this state of stress I've been experiencing since Wednesday night.

I just keep asking myself..."What to do...what to do???"

Wedding dreams make me wanna scream....

I had two wedding dreams over the weekend. I had several friends who had either gotten married or gotten engaged before I did so, thankfully, I expected this. But what I didn't expect was how stressed out they'd make me!

The first dream I had on Friday night. The gyst of it was that I forgot to hire a DJ and people I didn't know were eating my catering. Not that my catering is going to be anything spectacular (we're doing NC bbq, fried chicken, and the fixins) but still. No one wants univited people eating their food.

The second dream was early this morning and man, it's still got me worried. On this one, I waited until 17 days before the wedding to do anything and we decided to just say forget it, we'll get married by the Justice of the Peace right now. (Which, honestly, would be perfectly fine with Vito.) I remember saying something about, "Is it eloping if we dont' leave the country?" I asked that like 100 times to anyone who would listen.

I always wonder if my dreams don't hold more prophesy than I'd like to admit. I firmly believe your dreams are trying to tell you something. Finding out what is usually the hard part. I just hope these dreams don't amount to anything more than motivating me to find a DJ and get all my planning done early.