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Let's try this again...

Good Day

Today was one of those days when I really loved my job. Maybe love is too strong of a word, but I felt very energized and excited about the work I do. This comes on the heels of a very crappy day. Let me just say it started with waking up at 7 AM with a migraine so painful that I would have preferred to have my dentist bore a hole in my head with her drill. Sometimes, when I have horrible migraines, I think about all of the painful things that would feel better than the actual migraine I was experiencing - this is how I came up with the dentist bit. My other favorites include:

1. A jackhammer to the head/face
2. A sledgehammer to the head to be swung by any of my favorite MLB players
3. Banging my head against the wall...any wall
4. Being stabbed in the eye (whichever eye is experiencing the pain)

OK, so this is morbid and kind of spooky, but what else can I do with my time when I'm dealing with a 17-hour migraine that, at times, I think just might kill me?

Back to my crappy day. It was not a 17-hour migraine - more like an 8-hour migraine. I was able to work once the meds kicked in, although I was higher than a kite for the first few hours. I refuse to get in to what exactly made the work day so crappy. I will not think about it any more than I already have because it is not healthy for me to stew about this. It is not healthy for me to go back to what I was feeling yesterday. All I will say is "Circus Tickets." I know what this means and 20 years from now, I can look back on this and recall the situation. That's all that matters.

So, it's no wonder today was better.

On a completely different note, I found this picture at my parents' house a couple of weeks ago. It's a picture of my sister, me, and my mom.

(Apparently, I can't get this picture to appear - I'll try again later)...

From the looks of things, we were at the "nature center," as we liked to call it. We did that a lot when I was young. I can so clearly remember running down the hill by the apple orchard, holding on to my big sister's hand and squealing with excitement as I got that funny feeling in my stomach as we descended. What happened to those times? How did I get to be 33 years old? How did I get to be so critical and negative? I remember being 4 or 5 years old and only caring about playing outside and going to the zoo or the "nature center" with my family. Now I worry about, well, everything. I care what people think of me - people that really shouldn't make a difference to me. I worry about having enough money to pay bills. I worry about getting a terminal illness. I worry about someone I love getting a terminal illness. I worry about getting old. I worry about failing - in work, in marriage, in life in general.

I don't really want to be that young again, mainly because I really don't feel like reliving all the bad times - broken hearts, high school, deaths, etc. But just for a few minutes, I'd like to have that feeling back. The feeling of no worries. The feeling of being excited about running through the sprinkler, waiting for my dad to come home from work, helping my mom fold towels, and eating a pb&j sandwich.

MIA

I've been missing in action for a while. Absolutely swamped with a huge grant. Government grants are just awful - 59 pages of instructions, yet so completely vague about certain things. The grammar geek that I am actually found errors in their RFP. They also made mistakes when referencing their own instructions. Such dorks. That is unless they actually give us the $86,000 to fund a new program. Then they'll be my new best friends...and I'll be the hero at the office.

After working 11 hours on Tuesday, 8 hours on Wednesday, then attending a 2 hour staff training Wednesday night, I came home and worked until 11 PM. I woke up extra early to get a head start this morning. I was still swamped...

Anyway, the due date was today at 4 PM and I got it in 20 minutes under the wire (cue the ESPN theme music).

I officially rock.

Today...

...would have been her 65th birthday. I cannot believe she has been gone for 6 weeks. It seems like just yesterday that we were hopeful for her recovery. Sometimes life just doesn't make any sense.

Happy Birthday, Auntie!

I hope that wherever you are, you are free from pain and celebrating this day with gusto :-)

How's The Fricassee?

This is one of my favorite lines from one of my all-time favorite movies - Fargo. I could watch it over and over. I'm not sure why I love it so much. Maybe because it takes place in the Midwest. Maybe because I love Frances McDormand and William H. Macy. Maybe because my ex-boyfriend thought the relationship that Frances McDormand had with her husband in the film was "boring." I always thought their relationship was sweet and reflective of what marriage can really be like in real life. What's so horrible about safety and stability?

But I digress.

There's just something about that scene at the buffet that gets me. The loading up of artery-clogging food, the way they carry their trays to the table, the eating in silence. And then there's the line:

"Hi Margie. How's the fricassee?"

"Pretty darn good. You want some?"

I just love that movie...