Merry Christmas

Wishing everyone peace for the Christmas season and beyond.

Wildlife Outside My Window

Check out this little guy. He was in the tree outside my window this morning. It was about 10 degrees with blowing snow. He seems to be enjoying his breakfast but the poor little thing had to be freezing.

By the way, the picture is courtesy of my new Nikon Coolpix camera which I got for a steal at Target - 8.1 megapixal and, as you can see, zoom.

Also, thanks to M, my brother, I figured out how to get this close-up without reading the manual. Life is good.

Fibromyalgia and What I Learned

When I was first diagnosed with fibromyalgia, I tried to tell myself that many other people were much worse off than me. This is undoubtedly true. As bad as my worst flare-ups would get, I knew that eventually I'd feel at least a little better. I learned that fibromyalgia is not degenerative. It can be debilitating but it wasn't going to kill me. So, I told myself to suck it up and get on with life.

That worked for me ... uh, not at all. I never fully admitted that my life had to change. I threw myself into the vicious cycle of doing too much, having a flare-up, crashing, recovering, doing too much, and so on and so on.

I was depressed, in pain and exhausted all the time. I finally broke. I took advantage of my company's employee assistance program and made an appointment with a therapist. She told me something that changed my perspective. She said that it didn't matter that other people were worse off than me. She said that there would always be someone whose situation was worse. That didn't mean that I had to discount what was happening to me. It didn't mean that I couldn't feel bad about what was happening to me.

I got permission to feel sad and angry and afraid about the changes in my life. Sometimes I still feel sad and angry and afraid. But you know what? I don't feel guilty about it. I learned that masking my feelings about my illness is not productive. I learned that I have a right to mourn the life I lost. When those lessons sunk in, I started to see that I could make a new life for myself. I could see myself living a good life even though I have a chronic illness.

Happy Anniversary to Me

The other day I realized that I missed an important anniversary. It's been nine years since I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. I can't remember the exact date of the diagnosis because between perimenopause and fibro, I'm lucky I can remember my own name, but I do know it was in the fall of 1999. In honor of the past nine years, I thought I'd spend the next couple of entries talking about:

1. things I've learned since being diagnosed
2. things I haven't learned
3. things I think I've learned but apparently have not based on my actions
4. things I hope I learn and act on going forward

If I have any anniversary wishes for myself, I'd wish that I would acknowledge that I've done my best dealing with this illness for the past nine years and, more importantly, that I live my upcoming years with joy, love and wisdom no matter what health challenges I might face.

I Figure It Out

I finally figured out what's wrong with my life.

Today, I got two emails. One said that said that if I forwarded the message, I would get good luck. The other said that if I didn't forward the message, my life would be awful for days to come.

After I deleted the messages, I realized that I never forward any messages like that. I haven't forwarded any of them for years. No wonder I never have any luck! No wonder I have awful days!

I apologize to my friends and family (and anyone dumb enough to give me his or her email address). I am going to fill your inbox until good luck comes my way and I have no bad days.

Hope and Cynicism in Politics and Fibro (and Sports for Good Measure)

Relax. I think I'm almost done with my mild foray into the world of political blogging. And the rants about work? No more of those. At least for a while. 'Cause the potential for a work rant? Right there under the surface. Always.

I said in my last post that I was done with hope and gloating. I haven't gloated for two whole days. Really. But that darn hope. It keeps creeping up on me.

Hope is a pernicious thing. It slinks in and makes me think about how things could be. Hope isn't about hard work, choice and compromise. Hope is about seeing my world, your world, our world as a better place where the impractical, the improbable can be. Hope is that tiny, burning flame in the heart. Hope is a country where any child can grow up to be President. Hope stirs in late August when the Detroit Lions fan imagines a winning season. Hope is me doing work that has an impact, that is interesting, thought-provoking, fun.

When hope crashes, cynicism storms in.

I finished my first full, 40-plus hour work week in over four years on Friday. I had flashbacks to my life four years ago - go to work, go home, go to bed at 8 p.m., do it again the next day. I was afraid that I knew what would happen and it did. On Saturday night I was insanely tired - drunk, drugged-up, stumbling into furniture tired without a drink or drugs to explain it away, to make it normal, to give it a rational explanation. Cynicism roared, happy to be proven right once again. I can't do this. What was I thinking? I almost wanted to cry. It would have taken too much energy.

Wait though. There is another player on this team inside me. Pragmatism.

It is still early days in my treatment. It's too soon to judge it a success or a failure. It's too soon to imagine that I can work full time without feeling the physical effects. Pragmatism reminds me that I don't want to spend my work life filing or putting together open enrollment packages. This adjustment to my current gig is temporary. It's a way to make some additional money. It's not my life. Or the end of my life.

Governing the country will be harder than winning an election. The Lions may not win this season. Fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue may never have a cure.

I may not know how to balance the demands of illness, work and a fulfilled life but I still have hope that I can learn. I'll keep that tiny flame burning. I'll listen to cynicism and its fear of all that could go wrong. I'll let pragmatism balance the two and run the show for a while.

Hope and Gloating

My days of hope and gloating are over. Now it's back to my cynical reality and living the dream. Great.

Why am I doing this? That's right. Money.

It's only been three days of working a full time schedule and already I've had to be assertive. Some of my co-workers may be muttering the B word under their breath but only because they do not understand that my way of doing things is the best and, really, only way. If they would just agree with me, no one would get hurt. There's a long and involved story about using FedEx Office. I won't bore you with the details. I'll just say we used FedEx Office. (There was no way I was going to stand by the copy machine for a full day watching documents print and clearing printer paper jams. No way.)

I did hear amazing and disgusting and hilarious stories of personal grooming at work so today wasn't a total loss.

Tomorrow I tackle the file room. I don't usually file. I complain because the room is a mess but I don't pay attention to what's happening with the files. On Monday, I pulled the personnel files for some terminated employees from the active employee file cabinet. I opened the drawer marked 2008 Terminations to put the files in the terminated employee file cabinet. There were no files in the drawer. At first, I thought I was doing something wrong. But no. No one has pulled the termed employee files since January. This totally boggles my mind. No doubt filing is boring, but it's one of the ugly necessities of working in an office. I can't imagine why the person who is supposed to be doing thinks it's OK to just not do it. Although to be fair to her, she's very successful in getting other people to do her work for her. (See me filing tomorrow for example.)

I hate work. I hate people.

I'm happy about the election results.

My Morning Lesson in Civics

I voted this morning and I feel better about the election no matter how it turns out.

While I was waiting in line, I thought about all the women who fought and struggled to get the right to vote for the rest of us. And I thought about the stories I’ve heard where people in places like Africa wait in line for 12 or more hours to vote because they finally have the chance to do so. And I thought about the stories of people in this country and other countries who have died to make sure that elections are free and fair. And I thought about my obligation to those people.

I have to admit, I felt a little teary-eyed when I left the polls (although that could be PMS).

I also have to admit that I'm a little worried about some of my fellow voters. If they can't figure out how to follow a line, can we trust them with choosing the people who will run the country? I guess we have to trust them. And hope for the best.

Vote

I don't want to vote in tomorrow's election. In fact, I really, really don't want to vote. I can't give you a good reason why I feel this way. Or maybe it's because I can give you lots of reasons why I feel this way that I don't want to vote. Believe me though, I don't want to vote.

But you know what? There are candidates I want to see elected and proposals I want to see passed. I don't want to feel like I'm the one to blame if things don't happen the way I want. So I'm voting. I hope you will too. (Although maybe not so much if you happen to disagree with me. Sorry. I just want my vote to count for a lot.)

Losing My Mind and Other Disorganization

It's confirmed. I'm totally insane.

I asked my boss if I could up my hours and work full time for a while. It would help me out with some extra cash for bills (both medical and new computer) and help out at work. We're changing benefit providers and some of the grunt work is not getting done. Things, like filing, are a total mess. I thought it would be a no-brainer. And yet, apparently not. Even though I first asked about this almost three weeks ago, I didn't find out until last Wednesday that it would be OK for a two week period with the possibility for more. I start working full-time on Monday.

I'm sure that I've made a stupid move. I should have just tried to get a holiday job at Kohl's or Border's and kept my mouth shut about it. I have a feeling that I've killed the tiny, gasping remains of what used to be my career. And ruined any possible chance to go back to my reduced schedule. It's not like I have any kind of future at my current employer. I know that. Still, doing myself in like this? What was I thinking?

I was thinking, hoping, that maybe it's possible for me to work full-time with fibromyalgia.

I blame Rosalind Joffe and Joan Friedlander who wrote a book Keep Working Girlfriend: Women, Work and Autoimmune Disease. It inspired me, darn it. It made me think that I could balance my symptoms with engaging work. And get a bigger paycheck. My first step on that path was to see if I could work a full 40 hour week.

What I failed to take into account is that I'm still not feeling all that great. I've been going to the fibro center for three months now and I don't feel that much better. I'm tired all the time, not sleeping well, and in pain. The only positive thing that I can honestly report is that I don't have sugar cravings any more. That's good but it's not relief from fibromyalgia symptoms.

My mind wants to do more. My brain keeps sending funky fibromyalgia signals to my body. I'm stuck in the middle.

*****************************************

On the upside, my concentration has been good enough that I've been able to read again.

• Dear Stranger, Dearest Friend by Laney Katz Becker. Young mothers with cancer. I cried.
• Chocolat by Joanne Harris. Chocolate, mothers, insane priests, gypsies. No tears but I felt sorry for the priest.
• Casting Spell by Barbara Bretton. A paranormal from one of my favorite writers. (Girls of Summer is on my all-time favorite list.) Sigh. I was disappointed.
• Wish You Were Here by Lani Diane Rich. Contemporary romance, a little mystery, father/daughter and mother/daughter relationships and not a paranormal element in sight. Hooray. Another favorite writer.
• The House on Tradd Street by Karen White. Yet another favorite writer moving to the dark, err, paranormal, side. This had the feel of an old time Gothic so it worked for me.

Next up, The Feast of Love by Charles Baxter. It takes place in Ann Arbor, one of my favorite places, and has this great bit. Charles, the narrator, is walking off a combination of bad dreams and insomnia -

Above me in the clear night sky, the moon, Earth's mad companion, is belting out show tunes. A Rodgers and Hart medley, this is, including "Where or When." The moon has a good baritone voice. No: someone down the block has an audio system on. Apparently I am still quite sleepy and disoriented. The moon, it seems, is not singing after all.

Don't you love that?!

***************************

Oh! The other disorganization? That'll have to wait. It's still all spread around my office floor.

The Great To Be Read Pile

I did a quick calculation the other day. If I read one book a week from one of my bookcases that houses unread books, it will take me about 75 weeks to finish. That's over a year. And only one bookcase. And that assumes that I won't buy any new books.

The thought of all these books to read sort of makes me feel like Sysyphus. Except there are no rocks or hills involved. Just books. Still, that may be why I'm not reading much. Too overwhelming.

I did finish Whatever Makes You Happy by Lisa Grunwald. The Oprah Magazine recommended it but People did too so I thought it might be safe. It was touch and go at the 50 page mark. I stuck with it because of the real and fictional research on happiness and it's theme, the meaning of happiness. In the end, it was thought provoking but I didn't really like or care about the main character, Sally.

I was also a little disappointed with Julia Quinn's related books, The Lost Duke of Wyndham and Mr. Cavendish, I Presume. The books follow the same events from the perspective of two couples, Grace and Jack, who ends up being the real duke, and Amelia and Thomas, who loses his dukedom when Jack proves to be the real heir.

I didn't mind knowing what was going to happen or the writing repeats like some reviewers. I liked following the same scenes and conversations from the points of view of the different characters. What bugged me was that the real stuff - how both men dealt with their radical changes in situation - was glossed over.

If you're keeping score, that's one book from the shelves, one from the library, and one from the store. I'm toying with the idea of doing a year without book shopping but that's just crazy talk.

Reasonable, Responsible Adult

The hardware on my computer crashed.

On Thursday, while I was waiting for the death knell on the Dell from the computer repair guy, I went shopping and was completely, utterly seduced by the Mac notebooks. So cute. So portable. So much fun. So cool.

I didn't buy one immediately which I thought was very adult of me. But I talked about the Mac at work on Friday. About how much I loved it. About how much I wanted one. About how I could justify buying it because it was so cool and could do so many things to help support my blogging life. And I really, really wanted it. Really. And since I would be spending a lot of money anyway, why shouldn't I get exactly what I wanted?

That was when N said she was reading Confessions of a Shopaholic and that I sounded exactly like the girl in the book.

I was prepared to totally disregard her comment. Because ... well, because.

I talked about the Mac with M, my brother, on Saturday morning. I told myself I wanted his opinion. I knew he loved his Mac and that he would say I would not be sorry if I got it. But then he had to go and add, "if you can afford it".

I was prepared to totally disregard his comment too.

I headed to the Apple store.

Somehow, before I made it there, I found myself turning my car into the Best Buy parking lot. I told myself it wouldn't hurt to look at the other notebooks one more time. I got the specs on one I sort of liked. I went to Borders to have coffee and did some calculations.

It's all very well for Becky Bloomwood, the aforementioned shopaholic, to spend whatever she wants. She's fictional. I'm not. She's twenty-something. I'm definitely not. She (N should stop reading here - spoiler alert) is going to end up with a cute, rich guy. I'm not.

I bought the HP.

No Blogging from Me for a While

My computer died on Sunday capping what was a seriously lousy weekend consisting of a big flare up, cancelled weekend away, and missing the chance to catch up with my cousins. Plus they are threatening me with the bar bill.

Anyway, this is a stealth blog from work. It will be the last for a while until the computer situation gets resolved.

Think happy computer repair thoughts.

Missing the Boat?

I was up early this morning unable to sleep because my legs and hips ached. After I organized my pills for the week, I got online.

About four years ago, I met Pixie Campbell at a Writer's Spa retreat in Taos, New Mexico that was led by Jennifer Louden and Suzanne Falter Barnes. I've followed Pixie's blog since. This morning I was clicking on links to Pixie's blogroll and came across Jen Lemen's blog. There was an entry where Jen writes about meeting and interviewing Cokie Roberts. At the end of the entry was this paragraph:

"I wish this were a beautifully written post that really captured all the power and wisdom of these tiny moments, but all I can say is that I’m really deeply grateful for today. I hope I can be the kind of older woman someday who inspires somebody younger to be brave and to take incredible chances for love and wholeness and peace (because I did it myself), all the while being willing to endure the pull with dignity and grace. That’s the most any woman can hope for, don’t you think?"

While Jen's pull is family and career, I couldn't help but apply her words to my own pull between fibromyalgia and life. I worry that my illness is winning the tug of war. It's easy to go inward to the place that's all about being sick because, let's face it, some days it is just so darn hard to live with the chronic pain and fatigue of fibromyalgia. But I want more.

Like Jen, I want to be the kind of older woman who inspires others. I'm far to close to older woman status to waste time not living fully.

Thanks to the women who inspired this post:

Jen Lemen - http:// jenlemen.com/blog
Pixie Campbell - http:// pixiecampbell.typepad.com/pink_coyote

****************************

By the way, one day I'm going to figure out how to post my own blogroll. Promise.

Look How Far We've Come

My concentration has been shot lately. I don't know if it's the meds, weather changes, old age or what. It stinks but there's an upside. (There's always an upside in my happy, optimistic world.) I've been expanding my online horizons and finding all kinds of interesting things.

Yesterday, ABC News ran a story about a class action lawsuit against the company owned by New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg. In the suit, 72 women claim pregnancy bias saying that they were demoted, lost career opportunities and suffered reduced wages as a result of their pregnancies. The article states that according to charges filed with the EEOC, the company has a "systemic, top-down culture of discrimination" created by Mr. Bloomberg himself.

Earlier this week, personal finance blogger, FruGal, posted an entry about a conversation she had with a business owner acquaintance who admitted that if he has two candidates of child-bearing age, he'd rather hire a man than woman. He sees hiring as an investment in his company. Men are the better bet because men don't have to divide their attention between work and children. He'd rather hire men even if the women applying for jobs don't actually have children.

Last week, the findings from a study on the impact of gender views on wages were released. The study followed male and female participants over a 25 year period . The study found that men who held traditional views on gender roles earned, on average, over $11,000 more a year than men who held less traditional views. (I won't mention the wage differences between the men and women. There's no such thing in my happy, optimistic world.) I told one of my co-workers about the study and said that in order for him to get ahead in the wage game, he had to tell his wife to get barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen. He said he'd have plenty of time to earn more money when he saw his kids every other weekend after saying that to his wife.

Obviously we now know why Michael Bloomberg is richer than God, FruGal's acquaintance owns his own successful mid-sized company, and my co-worker is languishing away at company X.

Here are links. Enjoy.

http://www.abcnews.go.com/Blotter/TheLaw/story?id=5940693&page=1

http://www.totallymoney.com/frugal/?p=374

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/09/21/AR2008092102529.html?sub=new

Two Down

I read two books this week. Only thousands more to go to finish my shelves. Progress can be slow.

The first book I read was a loaner. I bought it for A for her birthday and gave it to her with the condition that she had to loan it to me so I could read it when she was finished. (How rude was that?)

Tending Roses by Lisa Wingate was timely for me because it reminded me that money isn't everything and that things can work out at a time when I'm freaking out daily about how much I'm spending for health care. There's a quote in the second book I read that's fitting here...

Perhaps there is some secret sort of homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows is possibly my favorite book this year. It takes place after WWII and is written entirely in the form of letters - mostly between the protagonist, a writer named Juliet, and some people on the island of Guernsey which was occupied by the Germans during the war. It's a little old fashioned (which I love) but it doesn't sugar coat the war or the after effects.

*************************

Today was IV day at the Fibro and Fatigue Center. I was there from 11 a.m. until after 2 p.m. because the darn things didn't want to flow. The whole process does me in for a couple days. I'm taking it as a good sign, that the things that are supposed to die off are doing so, but I wish it was a little easier. Still looking for that miracle cure, I guess.

The First (and probably only) Poetry Tuesday

I haven't made much progress in my efforts to reduce the mountain of unread books but I have been delving into favorite parts of the books on my keeper shelves. Happily, I ran across this poem by Dorothy Parker which I haven't read for years. I think it perfectly describes relationships. I hope you like it.

One Perfect Rose

A single Flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his message he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet -
One perfect rose.

I knew the language of the floweret;
"My fragile leaves," it said, "his heart enclose."
Long love has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.

Why is it no one ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.

Books Galore

My name is Alice and I’m a book buying addict.

I’m not mocking people in 12-step programs when I say this. It’s true. I have shelves and shelves of books that I bought because they looked interesting. Some of these poor things have remained unread for years. While I was dusting shelves on Thursday, I decided that I’m going to do something about my stash.

Winter is coming and I’m trying not to spend money, so I figure I’ll have plenty of time to read. Here’s the plan. I’m going to read my way through the to-be-read mountain and report on the books here. Also, because life is short, I’m going to do a page 50 evaluation. If the book is not working for me at page 50, I can move on to the next.

I won’t try to pretend that I’m not going to buy any new books but I intend to make it through five books before I get a new one.

And I thought give up coffee was hard.

****************

I always read bits of books while I dust the bookshelves. Today I came across this passage from Cathy Lamb’s The Last Time I was Me.

“Here’s a tidbit of info I have learned during my nervous breakdown: If you have worked your buttocks off for years and you suddenly find yourself in the position of being able to work for yourself or at home, or maybe not even working at all (by choice), it is almost unbearably impossible to put yourself back in the position of working those hideous hours again with strange, mind-boggling people you would not normally want to hang out with unless forced to by a gun. You feel like the life is going to be sucked out of you an inch at a time. Through your nose. And the sad reality is: You are right.”

That one’s for all you working stiffs. The sad reality is: She is right.

Speaking of Socialism

OK, maybe it's just me speaking of socialism (or, in this case, socialized medicine) but I read an interesting blog entry today from Miss-Thrifty called Frugality Wars: UK vs USA - Round One. There's a lot that's standard stuff - USA has lots of comparatively cheap things like gas, food, housing. The UK has the National Health Service (NHS) which provides free health care coverage.

I've heard arguments for and against NHS. The upside? It's free for everyone. The downside? Potential delays in service, limitations in care provided, etc. So you can pick your own side and argue away. Here's what floored me.

Miss-Thrifty writes that she understands that income taxes are high in the UK to help offset the cost of government provided health care. Most people pay about 20%. What???!!!

I pay over 20% of income in taxes. In addition, I typically pay over $1500 each year for out of pocket health care expenses after paying my insurance premiums. This year my out of pocket costs will be much, much higher.

I'm not saying I want to pay $8/gallon for gas like they do in the UK but can't some of my tax dollars go to making health care affordable and available to everyone?

Here's the link to the blog entry if you want to read more.
http://www.miss-thrifty.co.uk/2008/09/11/frugality-wars-uk-vs-usa-round-one/#more-111

Dad's Famous and We're All Socialists

OK, the happy stuff first. My dad was in the newspaper today. He was quoted in a story about local golf courses. Here's his picture with his buddy, Mel. (Dad is in the golf cart.)

Today's second happy thing is that my work department made a tree using wrapping paper tubes, coupons from our company's main product, and the handy man's secret helper, duct tape. It turned out pretty good in a "I can't believe I'm actually wasting time to do this at work" sort of way. One of our company's key results areas for the year is innovation. Instead of doing something really innovative and impactful, each department was charged with making something out of a bunch of coupon books. The HR tree theme was "money doesn't grow on trees but coupons do". It was fun to see what all the departments came up with but for long term company success I don't see too much added value. Still, the results were pretty cool. I didn't have a camera with me so there's no picture here but I'll try to get one on Friday. I know everyone who reads this would be thrilled to see our HR tree. By the way, there were no prizes given which disturbs me. I'm a rewards professional. I want to see rewards for achievement even if I don't necessary get them.

Now for the bad stuff. The financial markets. Since I won't ever be able to retire, I figure I can spend time at work reading about how bad things are. I've been reading commentaries about the US government bailout of financial companies - AIG being the latest. One common theme is how strange it is that as a capitalist nation, we're subsidizing failing companies. Here's a link to an MSN money commentary today which gets to the point. http://blogs.moneycentral.msn.com/topstocks/archive/2008/09/16/the-fed-is-not-our-sugardaddy.aspx

One other article I read said that we're now a socialist country only instead of supporting the little guys, we're supporting big business. I wonder if we can mandate that the executives and boards of directors of these failing companies give back their golden parachutes to subsidize the severance of all the people who will be laid off because of their poor decision making.

It makes me angry to think that if I make bad decisions, I have to pay for them. While I recognize the pain that would be caused by letting these companies fail, I also wonder how long we'll be able to continue on this course of action.

Happy All the Time

Good news. I have happy things to report.

The first was the full moon in the morning sky. It was huge and bright and absolutely beautiful. Incredible the things that God makes for us.

The second was the headline in the Detroit Free Press - Wild Pigs Menacing Farmers and Joggers across Michigan. While it's bad that feral pigs are ruining crops across the state, destroying natural habitats and all the rest, isn't the visual of pigs chasing down joggers brilliant? I imagine a northern Michigan Running of the Hogs. Pamplona has nothing on us.

The third thing is that I realized that I haven't had sugar cravings for days. My boss brought in chocolate chip cookies to share. I didn't want one. I don't know what's up with that but it's actually pretty cool.

Finally, I have to give a shout out to C who sent me an email with brilliant "stress in the workplace" video clips. My favorite? The guy with printer issues who finally gave up and dragged his monitor to the copy machine so he could get a hard copy of his document.

So there you go. Happy stuff.

By the way, I learned two new things today - how to search Flickr and how to import images into my blog. And I got to play around with Html code too. Life doesn't get any better.

Lightening Up

The blog's been a bit of a downer lately. It's probably more accurate to say that I've been a bit of a downer lately. Maybe it's because of the rain - there's been lots. Maybe it's because T got injured - always worrying. Maybe it's because I'm not feeling well. Whatever. To counteract the gloom, I'm going to find one thing a day to write about that makes me happy. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep it going but it'll make a change.

I'm happy about a blog I found - www.thatreadingwritingthing.blogspot.com. It's written by a British writer who has excellent taste in books (excellent because she likes a lot of the same books that I do). What totally sold me on the blog was a political commentary where she made a brilliant comparison between Sarah Palin and Basil Fawlty. Brilliant because 1) the show Fawlty Towers and John Cleese's portrayal of Basil Fawlty are classic so any reference is welcome and 2) Sarah comes up short in the comparison.

Gosh. I feel a little happier already.

The Real Me, At Least Partially

I changed my profile name. I'm feeling a bit more comfortable blogging and thought that I might as well use my real first name. So, ta da. I figure that when I get over the whole bitterness and sarcasm thing, I'll be ready to use my last name too. That might take a while.

I spent a lot of time last week listening to an on-line conference for National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week. I came across the conference by chance and listened to the first session because the timing worked with my schedule. It got me hooked because it's not often that there's a conference that's actually easy for someone like me. Having archived sessions made it possible to listen for a while, pause, move around for a while, listen some more, and so on. I didn't listen to everything because some sessions didn't apply but most of the speakers I heard were interesting and helpful. The sessions are archived at www.invisibleillnessconference.com.

After thinking about what I heard at the conference, I realized that I don't often admit to myself that I have a chronic illness. Which is strange considering I spend so much time, effort, energy and money dealing with my fibromyalgia. What's even stranger is that I've spent the last ten or so years dealing with the frustration of trying live like I used to before I got sick and then being resentful because I can't. I'm trying to figure out what denial is getting me and why I'm afraid of going to a place of acceptance. Sigh.

I don't think that my current treatment plan is part of the denial. I think that staying up too late some nights and drinking too much coffee some days and eating too much sugar at times and not doing yoga ever are part of the denial. There's a whiny four-year-old in me screaming "it's not fair". That's denial.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do with this new insight. Not dealing with it sounds really good while working through the issue sounds far too much like healthy work, acceptance, a sort of yoga for the mind. Now that it's in the open, it'll come up again. The good news is that the conference gave me some new tools to deal with it.

Dread

Dread is a good word. When I say it, I can feel heart, soul, energy, and yes, lifeblood being drained away.

Dread.

When I say I dread work this week, I am not kidding about the draining thing. Here's why in a word. Meetings. Oh, not the kind of meetings needed to follow up on projects or assign new projects or, potentially, rarely, get things done. No. I'm talking about the other kind of meetings.

The Monday morning staff meeting is being moved up an hour. Painful enough because staff meetings are a huge waste of time. But there's more. I will spend the rest of the morning with all of the people in the department in a locked room being forced to preview the company's new on-boarding web site. (OK, the room won't really be locked. It'll just feel that way. There's no escape. Guards will block the doors. OK, slight exaggeration again with the guards. It'll be guard dogs. With guns. And shoot to kill orders.)

On-boarding is hip-company speak for getting prospective and new employees to fill out forms and then give the new hires an orientation to the company. I admit the on-line capability will be great for our company - over 50% of our employees work remotely. However. I'm a compensation analyst. I don't recruit or give orientations. In fact, my job requires very little day-to-day employee contact (a happy situation that has extended my HR career for nearly 15 years). I won't be using the program or helping others use the program. Still I will be forced to spend four hours looking at the program. Ouch.

Wednesday is an all day workshop on HR legal issues. I hear the first topic of the morning will be Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA) and leaves of absence. 'Nuf said.

I am very, very grateful for my schedule which will allow me to spend Tuesday and Thursday in mental recovery mode. Which, I guess, makes me grateful for my fibromyalgia. Hmmm.

I need to find a new career.

What is up with that?!

So, today I was at Barnes & Noble browsing magazines when I heard a male voice say "they always want to have children and I don't".

Because I'm nosy I looked around to see the guy who was talking. It wasn't some young guy. No. The man had to be at least 60 and not a "Paul Newman when he was 60" either. I'm talking scrawny with weather beaten face, scraggly white beard and stringy white hair dressed in a faded blue work shirt.

I wanted to walk over to the table where he and his friend were sitting and say "how about dating someone your own age? Women past menopause normally don't want children. Think about it."

For Pete's sake, how can someone who looks like that find young women to date? I may never know. He left before I could check to see if he was driving a Bentley.

Treatment starts and so do I

I thought I had started treatment at the Fibro & Fatigue Center. But no. All the stuff I've been taking and doing has just been the preview. Last week I got the results from all my tests so now there's a concentrated battle going on in my body fueled by IVs, medications and supplements to rid it of viruses and to make me well. I have hopes fueled by my doctor who was excited and optimistic. The other fuel - well, that's making me feel queasy all the time and draining me of the ability to think. It will get better. I will get better. That's my mantra as I try to visualize everything bad flowing out of me.

In the meantime, I'm getting the bug to get some exercise and to be a little creative. I've been doing some easy exercise videos - only 20 minutes of gentle aerobics and strength training. Just enough to get movement without crashing and burning. To help with the creativity bug, I broke out the scarf I started knitting two years ago. The scarf will look good with my brown tweed coat which needs wearing this fall/winter. If I ever finish it. I've even been thinking about dragging out my old sewing machine to see if it still works.

I'm also getting my hair cut. I'm not sure I'll like it - in fact, I'm prepared to spend the winter watching my hair grow out - but it's time for something different. I've had pretty close to the same style for at least 10 years - shoulder length or so with long layers. I'm going for a chin length bob.

I've been checking out other blogs. I need to get some pictures on mine. Once I have some pictures to add. And figure out how to post them.

How cool is this? Stuff to think about and do.

Now that the fun is over

So, as much as I looked forward to the summer Olympics? Multiply that by sevenfold and that's how much I'm dreading the political conventions and upcoming election season. My TV mute button is already getting a workout - candidate ads, talking heads, and news segments on the election are all getting tuned out.

While I was seriously considering not voting, a friend sent me an email on all that the suffragettes endured to get the vote for women. I remembered that it was not all that long ago that I would not have been able to vote. Of course, my feminist heart felt immediate and overwhelming guilt. I do have to vote. I just wish choosing a president was more like choosing a health insurance plan. I want a "benefits at a glance" sheet on issues. A one page matrix of candidates and views with links to supporting documentation (a summary plan description) if needed. I don't want the nastiness of attack ads, attack books, attack debates, attack whatever.

I know the process is how it is because it's been successful. To me, it brings out all that's ugly about being an American. That makes me sad and a little queasy. And because the last eight years have made me even more cynical about both politics and our government, I know my vote won't count anyway.

My vote won't count on Dancing with the Stars either but I'll still watch every episode. It's filled with people who want to get publicity for their careers but, in its own way, the show is about what's good about being human - working hard at something different, learning a new skill, putting oneself in a position to get criticism and, hopefully, learn from it. Plus there's music, dancing, costumes and some potential for snarkiness. Good stuff.

By the way, I'll be checking out the website of the League of Women Voters to get an unbiased fact sheet on the candidates and issues for the upcoming elections.

This is why I love the Olympics

http://sports.yahoo.com/olympics/beijing/track_field/news?slug=cr-somalirunners082408&prov=yhoo&type=lgns

I've posted a link to an article about Somali runners who participated in the Olympics. The games are over now and I have to admit that I had enough of the coverage. But I will never get enough of stories like this one.

There is no we in illness

It's about 4 a.m. I've been up since 2. Sigh. Things are not going well with the sleep side of treatment. Since I've started at the Fibro and Fatigue Center, I've been adding and changing medications and supplements. It feels like my brain is re-ordering itself around them. It's a bit disconcerting but not really so bad. My body had been hanging in but since I added melatonin two nights ago, sleep has been strange - too many dreams and periods of waking up. Yesterday morning was a struggle to get out of bed. This morning was a struggle to sleep. Which would be OK but I'm so tired...

Anyway, I just read a newsletter from Debbie Ford who talked about a lecture she attended given by Dean Ornish. He spelled out illness and wellness on the board and then highlighted them - "I"llness and "We"llness.

I admit it's kind of cheesy but the truth of it struck home with me. Since I've become ill, so much of my life has been inward "me" focused. I hate it but sometimes I just can't summon up the energy to care about what's happening outside of my little fibro directed world. Old Maslow, of hierarchy of needs fame, was no dummy when he said that the survival stuff had to be taken care of before one could look beyond those basics.

I've been thinking about success markers - how I'll judge if my treatment plan is a success. Once I get beyond eliminating pain and getting restorative sleep, I think that consistently staying at the "we" level of that pyramid would mean that I've moved beyond illness.

************************************

I don't want to forget to mention some of the upsides of not being able to sleep. The pre-dawn world is quiet. Traffic is hushed and there's a chorus of crickets outside my window. The air coming in smells soft with the scent of dew on grass that goes away once the sun comes up. It's lovely. So much so that I might not even mention that fact that at 4 p.m. I'm going to be semi-comatose.

Random Friday

Good thing I'm not into big things fast. The energy injection I got yesterday has not kicked in. My arm aches because I had to hold it still for the IV that's supposed to help with pain. Bottom line? I'm tired and in pain - nothing new there.

********************

The Olympics started today. Yippee! I'm a huge Olympics fan and plan to spend as much time as possible watching both NBC and CBC coverage. What better way to celebrate athletes and sport than to spend hours on the couch watching TV?

********************

I'm coming to terms with the fact that I'll have to postpone next year's big birthday trip to Italy. Darn money. I'm still going to save as much as possible just in case but medical bills are going to be the priority. Sigh.

********************

I was going to say something about John Edwards getting caught lying about his affair but why bother...

My new part-time job

I've got myself a new part-time job. It's not glamorous. And it doesn't pay. In fact, I'm paying for the privilege. I started treatment at the Fibromyalgia and Fatigue Centers.

The very best part of today's first visit was that I didn't feel like I had to apologize for having all this nebulous "stuff" wrong with me. Everyone at the center, from the doctor to the office coordinator, is there specifically to help people like me. The patients are all people like me. You can't know the sense of relief that brings unless you've been to doctors who've said "I can't find anything - are you under stress?" or those who've said, "well, you've got fibromyalgia - there's nothing I can do for you". At this center there are doctors and other health care workers who are saying, "yes, you have fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue. We can help."

The downside, and there always is one, is that I'm going to have to organize my life around taking care of myself. Just managing the transition off old medications and onto the new ones is going to take a lot of mental energy. When I think about adding supplements and office visits for other treatments into the mix, it's almost overwhelming.

That's why I am going to have to look at this as a part-time job. I show up for work and do the things that need to get done. I owe it to myself to have at least that much commitment to managing my illness and recovery.

Today's appointment was long and expensive. Frankly, I'm exhausted and more than a little freaked out by the cost and and the thought of coordinating all these new things into my life. Still, that glimmer of hope is shining bright. Thank goodness for that.

Neighbors. Can't live above 'em, can't shoot 'em

I have a mole on my face. Well, actually I have three moles on my face but one is very noticeable. I've had it forever. I don't like it (it's a mole after all) but while I think about having it removed from time to time, it's never been a priority.

Today, I ran into my neighbor, a man in his eighties, when I was getting my mail. He and his wife live below me. I've talked to them maybe a half a dozen times in the year I've lived in my condo. Today, we were talking about innocuous things - the weather, the building we live in, the condo association meetings when all at once he says "you should see a dermatologist and get that mole removed." I expect him to say something about skin cancer. No. He says "you'd be prettier".

The thing that gets my goat is that I said "thanks".

The thing that really, really gets my goat is that I care what this guy said.

I just read a prayer - Praised are you, Creator of the Universe, who varies the forms of your creatures. I'm going to pray that one for myself and maybe wait a little longer before I make that appointment with the dermotologist.

Reality TV and Me

I was chatting with N the other day about how weather changes affect my fibro symptoms. Michigan weather is not the best because of the humidity so we started talking about other places that could be good. I was thinking maybe San Diego, but N suggested the OC. Of course, I was all over that. Just think, I said, I could have my own reality show like the one on MTV. I can sing badly and hook up with a loser boyfriend like Heidi and quit an internship at Teen Vogue and be kind of nasty to my girlfriends like Lauren. N says she would definitely watch.

I was thinking about it today before taking my mid-morning nap.

There could be lots of shots of me sleeping and reading which would be super exciting. Other bits could show me with T, the wonder horse. I'd throw in the occasional trip to Target or the mall to change the scene and add depth. Every other day, we could film at the office. Just think how much fun it would be watching me type compensation plans. It could be a winner.

Sadly, MTV might be too hip for me. I'm afraid VH-1 or maybe even the History Channel viewers are more likely my target demographic.

At least, N would watch. Or so she says now.

Just When You Think

Just when I think I've got a handle on the whole fibromyalgia and balance thing, I get hit with a flare-up: exhaustion, pain, headache, the whole works. I've been sacked out on the couch since this morning and am now just moving around a bit. Grrrr.

OK, so I regroup today and start again. There's no other choice.

Thank goodness for books. I just finished Sleeping with Schubert by Bonnie Marson. The soul of Franz Schubert invades the body of Brooklyn attorney, Liza. Suddenly, she can play the piano brilliantly and compose music. But Liza and Franz have to figure out how to work together. And Liza has to convince others that she's not going nuts. In my opinion, if your body is going to be invaded, Schubert would be better than fibromyalgia. Too bad that's not the way things work.

A Little Hope Springing in Summer

My summer is finally getting into gear because I feel well enough to do things. Well, thing anyway. With fibromyalgia, I have about enough energy to do one thing a day. If I work, that's it. If I ride, that's it. If I go shopping, that's it. If I go out to lunch with friends, that's it. If I go away, I always plan for at least one recovery day before I have to go back to work.

To be honest, the whole thing is kind of a drag.

I am thinking about checking out a new treatment center. One of my riding buddies, L, has been going to the Fibromyalgia and Fatigue Center in Troy. I ran into her at the barn the other day and she looked great. Like she had energy. She says that the first few months of treatment were hard but now she feels better than she has since she first got sick. That sounds hopeful. Of course, there's a downside. The cost.

I have been on the emailing list for the center for a couple of years now but have been afraid to commit to unknown costs - visits, supplements, prescriptions, etc., etc. - none of which would be covered by my insurance. A few weeks ago, before I talked with L, I got an email from the center explaining that they were establishing a comprehensive care package with set pricing. I'm still afraid to see the monthly cost but it might be worth a phone call and a few hours of sitting in their monthly informational meeting just to check it out.

Spring is the season of hope, but I might just be catching a glimmer of it this summer.

This creativity thing is hard

I just realized how long it's been since my last post. So I'm trying to come up with something interesting to write.

Hmmm...

La, la, la...

Nope, nothing.

Sigh.

Coffee Update Or How I Found a Justification to Drink More Coffee

Hooray for Nova Science Now.

I had been feeling a little bit like a loser in the me versus coffee games because I couldn't quit my coffee habit. I have cut down on the number of cups I drink at work by quite a bit going from, say, forty cups a day to two or three. But the experiment to go cold turkey was a bust. I felt lousy and brain foggy and pretty much a total mess without my fix. It was a disappointment because there is so much advice about giving up caffeine to become healthier.

I was thinking about gearing up to try to quit again when I caught part of Nova Science Now. Get this. Experiments with mice have shown that they gain distinct memory improvement when given the equivalent of five cups of coffee a day. In the experiment, the mice were unable to remember a maze that they had learned in the past until they were started on the caffeine. After only a short time with the coffee equivalents, they remembered.

Clearly this means that I should drink coffee. After all, why watch science shows unless you take the information they present and use it to support what you want to do anyway?

Me and the mice and coffee. Thanks for the memories.

The Economics of Riding the Horse to Work

I've been reading about people who are protesting high gas prices by riding horses to work. Besides being a logistical (what do you do with the horse while you're in the office?) and safety (ride in traffic during rush hour?!?!) nightmare , it doesn't even come close to making good financial sense.

As much as I love T, he is not cheap. Board is $500 a month. Shoes are $110 every six weeks. Supplements, equipment, vet bills, etc. add another $50 to $100 per month. My monthly average for basics is around $650. If I had a place to keep my horse at home, I'd still have feed costs, farrier and vet bills, increased property taxes, a larger mortgage, and I'd never be able to go on vacation again because stabled horses need regular, reliable, constant care and all my spare time would have to go to maintaining the stable/pastures/etc. Plus I'd still need a car to, at a minimum, haul grain and hay.

My car, on the other hand, gets fairly good mileage. I fill it up about once a week. Even with today's gas prices, I spend about $200 per month for gas. The car sits quietly in the parking lot while I'm at work requiring no care, it doesn't shy in traffic, and, when lousy drivers have run into me, we've both come out of it relatively unscathed.

So, buy a horse if you want, but don't expect to be saving any money.

*********************************************

BTW, the picture on my blog is of T, all gussied up for a horse show. Isn't he handsome?

Just So I Don't Get Confused (Psychologically Speaking)

While I was surfing the web, I found this on MSN. Someone sent a question to the lifestyle section asking why models have such smooth skin. The writer asked, do they shave?

Ying Chu, Marie Claire's beauty director, responded by saying "Face shaving is such a masculine act that it can be psychologically confusing to do it as a woman. If you feel like you have excess hair on your face, try waxing, plucking, using depilatories or laser hair removal."

OK, maybe it's just me, but is she kidding? Why is it feminine to rip hair from the root or burn it off with harsh chemicals or laser beams?

I think I prefer the lie from the old days when beauty magazines said if you shaved the hair would grow back thicker and darker.

Excuse me while I go pluck some hair. It may hurt but my psyche will remain unharmed.

The Downside of Home Ownership

Work has been a bit of a struggle lately what with projects that aren't going well, annoying co-workers, department management decisions that are, to put it politely, interesting, and, mostly, my own inner voice that's shouting "what the heck are you doing here?"

The short answer is money.

I miss my F fund. (F for "freedom" or "forget this" because this is a family blog.)

Before I put the downpayment on my condo, spent some more cash to pretty it up, and came face to face with the reality of property taxes, I had a chunk of change just hanging around waiting for me to hit the breaking point.

During painful Friday afternoon meetings when poking my brains out with a pen seemed more pleasant than listening to another painful word, I would fantasize about walking out of the conference room, grabbing my stuff from my desk, and walking away forever. On drives into work, I would think about how nice it would be to just keep driving. And I could have done it. It's not that I ever would quit my job without notice and a back-up plan. It was just nice to know that I could.

For purposes of full disclosure, I actually have quit my job with no back-up plan in the past. I did give a two week notice. Then I went to Europe for a month and a half. It was fun. I highly recommend it. Of course, this was before T, the wonder horse, and while I was still living at my dad's house. Ah, youth. And no fixed expenses. Those were the days.

Today, I've got a mortgage and a horse and a salary that's about half of what it was when I was working full time. I'm so glad I didn't buy that purse while I was at the mall at lunch yesterday. Here's to the rebirth of the F fund ... one non-purchase at a time.

How not to clean

I have people coming over tomorrow.

I should be cleaning.

I am writing a blog post.

It's amazing how easy it is to write something when the alternative is cleaning.

The Downside of Audio Books

I've been listening to audio books in the car for over four years, ever since the last presidential campaign. I had been a huge fan of public radio but simply could no longer listen to the campaign rhetoric from either side. Commercial radio was filled with, well, commercials. My CD collection was getting tired of the heavy rotation. In desperation, I tried an audio book and totally fell in love with the format.

There's a downside to listening to books in the car. Words that stay quietly on the page of a printed book are out loud and in the open in an audio book. There was the time I took my car in for service just as a sex scene in a romance got hot and heavy. (Thank goodness I remembered to turn off the CD player before handing over the keys.) There have been times when I've been laughing out loud and then noticed the people in the next car over staring at me. The worst times, though, are those when the book is so touching that I cry.

In my current listen, Broken for You by Stephanie Kallos, holocaust survivor, Irma, tells M.J. the story of a treasured tea cup that had belonged to her young daughter who died on the way to the concentration camp. A former neighbor's tiny act of kindness in saving that cup from the Nazis gave Irma the courage to go on with her life. I, of course, started to bawl. The last ten minutes of my commute into work was spent digging Kleenex out of my purse and wiping my face so I could recover enough to face my co-workers.

It was a good thing that I was running late this morning and forgot to put on mascara. Nobody at work would ever notice red, bleary eyes at 7:30 in the morning. Raccoon eyes on the other hand? Much more difficult to cover up.

I'm starting to wonder why it is that the potentially embarrassing audio book moments happen at the worst possible time. I may have to start a scientific study to see if this is actually true. In the meantime, I'll keep the tissues handy for the conclusion of this excellent book.

The Day Job

My day job has been filled with job evaluations for the past week or so. As a result, I don't seem to be able to write at all. Job evaluation is all data and structure - figuring out how jobs fit into the framework of our company so people can be paid appropriately. When I get into it, I can feel creativity being pushed to the back of my brain. There's simply not enough room for it when everything is about hierarchy.

Or so I tell myself. Could this be an elaborate excuse? Yup, probably.

Plus, after this many years of it, job evaluation is mind numbing. Really. There are only so many times that a person should be forced to look at survey results. A numb mind is not a creative mind. (Yes, another elaborate excuse.)

Whatever the reason, in order to get myself back on the blogging track, I'm trying to fill the creative well. Any suggestions?

Books, books, and more books

For me, there are definite moments for books. Sometimes I'll read a review or see a book at the bookstore for months before I actually buy it. Then it might sit on a shelf at home for another few months or even years before I read it. I have a bunch of books that are waiting around for the perfect moment to be read.

The Dead Fathers Club by Matt Haig is one of the books that has been on my yet-to-buy list since it first came out in hardcover about a year ago. It's a retelling of Hamlet set in modern England. The book got good reviews and I had come this close to buying it a couple of times but just never did. I was really happy to find it on the new fiction audio book shelf at the library (free!). I just finished listening to it today.

OK, so maybe I should have known that it wouldn't be all that cheery considering the Hamlet angle and all but, darn it, the first couple chapters faked me out.

Eleven year old Philip's father has just died in an auto accident when, at the funeral, Philip sees his father's ghost. The ghost tells Philip that his uncle Alan is responsible for the accident - that it wasn't an accident at all but murder. In order for Philip's dad to avoid the terrors for the rest of his ghostly existence, Philip must avenge the murder.

Not so light so far, right? But the author does a great job with voice in this. Told in the first person, Philip's observations of the people around him in the months after his dad's death are funny. Maybe because he's so sincere, naive and matter of fact, it's got that whole "kids say the darnedest things" vibe. I got sucked into that note until the end. I was sort of expecting a happy ending or, at least, for Philip to come out of the experience relatively unscathed. I won't do a total spoiler but I will say that I'm glad I won't be funding that poor kid's psychoanalysis.

The boy who read the audio book was absolutely brilliant and I'm not sorry I listened but I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the next audio book is a little lighter. Whew.

June is fitness month

My New Year's resolution was to pick up one healthy habit each month this year. Here's the list so far.

January - drink 6 to 8 glasses of water a day. Easy and so successful that I tried ...

February - take the stairs at work - 5 flights. (The first three flights up were not too bad but by the 4th my quads and lungs were seizing up. I'd reach the door at the 5th floor gasping for breath with my legs crying "what have we ever done to you?!")

March - nothing. (I was still recovering from stair experiment. If I had any kind of mental/physical toughness, I'd gut it out and stick with the stairs but the elevator is really much easier. Although to be fair to myself, I'm still taking the stairs down. Yay gravity!).

April - take a multivitamin daily (because no stairs are involved).

May - eat better/healthier foods and lose some weight. (You'll notice that the failed no-coffee experiment was not part of this challenge. There was truly no hope of long term success with that - even less hope than for the stairs which I thought - ha! - could get easier over time.)

June - exercise a minimum of five days a week.

It's hard to believe it now when taking the stairs is an exercise in torture, but I used to be in good shape. I was strong, aerobically fit and my body fat was something crazy like 19%. I'll never be that fit again. It was a lot of work and I'm so not up for that but I'd like to some of that fitness back again. I've tried in the past, pushed too hard, too fast and ended up with a fibro flare-up. This time I'm going to try the slow and consistent approach. Hopefully, by next February, I'll be able to take the stairs at work without needing a shower and life support by the time I reach the top.

**************************
Coffee update - Yup, I'm drinking coffee again but I've been able to limit myself to 2 cups a day. It feels pretty good. So, I'm either a poster child for moderation (my preferred view of the situation) or a total slacker.

I learn something new

I was all set to write a post about the email a coworker forwarded to me this week. The email contained a link promising new thinking in change management. So I clicked on the link. Some consultant had created a PowerPoint presentation (yeah, that's new) with quotes about leading change from such current thinkers as Linus Pauling (dead 14 years), Peter Drucker (first published 1939 and dead 3 years), and anonymous (around forever).

I have nothing against those guys (great thinkers who I admire) and I like change at work as much as the next person (as my 9 companies in 22 years clearly shows), but enough with the cheesy PowerPoints. Quotes on slides with cute cartoon figures don't drive new thinking on change. Shame on the consultant who created it. (This is where I pause, jealous because the guy is probably raking in the clients and big consulting bucks right now...grrrrrrrrr!)

Anyway, I'm not going to write about that. I'm going to write about how I learned something new about Blogger comments and life.

I was pretty excited because I had a comment on a post this morning and, well, I live for comments (hint). I read the comment. It was from miumiu who politely asked me to post a link to his/her blog. Like that's going to happen without me first seeing it. I checked it out. It was a Japanese site with what looked like knock off purses for sale (the miumiu name sort of tipped me off). I didn't want to leave the comment attached to my post because no one I know who reads this would be all that interested in knock off bags except maybe N who doesn't read Japanese (I don't think).

So I looked all over the editing section of Blogger clicking madly to try to find a delete button. Nothing said "delete comment" in big bold letters so I went to Help. I found out how to moderate comments before they are posted. That didn't help me delete one that already exists. I read the link that gave me the Html coding for editing comments. That really didn't help. I looked around some more in Help and found nothing. I gave up and added my own comment saying, "uh, miumiu, no can do".

Then I spotted the little wastebasket icon next to miumiu's comment. I clicked on it. It deleted the comment. Then I had to delete my response since it no longer made sense. I clicked on the little wastebasket icon next to my comment. Done.

Lesson learned. When you want to get rid of something, look for a wastebasket.

In the News

I find the controversy about former White House press secretary Scott McClellan's book very interesting. None of the backlash I've seen has been about the veracity of what he's said in the book but, rather, if it's appropriate for him to have said it. (Press secretaries apparently have some unwritten priest and the confessional type of code of honor.)

Whether he's in the right or not, it seems to me that he's being a bit disingenuous. He claims he did not see the "lack of candor and honesty" in the president and senior administration officials while he was acting as the spokesperson for the "political propaganda campaign" that led the nation into an "unnecessary war". Come on, how can that be? It's not like Bush critics weren't saying the same thing all along.

Maybe I'm being unfair to him. After all, he's a citizen of the same country where 11% of all eligible voters believe that Barack Obama is a Muslim. This even though just a few short weeks ago you couldn't turn on the news without hearing about the uproar Obama's Christian pastor caused with racist remarks from the pulpit. Instead, people believe chain emails like the one I read which said that since the names Obama and Osama (bin Laden) have many of the same letters, the two men must have the same belief system. Since we live in a county filled with idiots, how can we expect any clearer thinking from Mr. McClellan?

I don't plan to buy Scott McClellan's book, What Happened: Inside the Bush White House and Washington's Culture of Deception. Why contribute to the madness?

Crying Uncle

I give up.

Here's the thing. I gave it a try - over a week without coffee. This afternoon I cracked and drank some.

I drank it because I could not stand one more minute feeling how I felt. My brain has been stuffed with cotton gauze. I'm so tired I could fall asleep standing up. The first couple days weren't bad. I expected to feel awful but it's been over a week and every day was getting worse. I should be feeling way better, darn it.

If there were any positive signs like better sleep I would have hung tough. But no, that wasn't happening. So I give up.

At least for today.

Because, honestly, now that I've had two cups, I'm kind of wishing I had stopped at one. Argh.

What was I thinking?

I thought I was doing ok with the no coffee thing. Boy, was I wrong. It's been one week - enough brain cells survive for me to remember that. The first couple of days weren't horrible . Yesterday was.

I had to leave home because the coffee cravings were getting to me. I went to the mall. Since I don't usually get coffee while I'm there, I figured it would be a safe place to walk around, get some easy exercise as I'm not up to riding, and stay away from the demon coffee. Two purses and five books later, the truth is that it would have been easier (and cheaper) to drink the darn coffee.

One of the purses is a smaller cross body bag which my office pal, N, assures me is in style. (Of course. I am soooooo on trend.)

Last week I couldn't figure out why my arm was going numb. I went to the chiropractor to get an adjustment. I felt better until I slung my bag onto my shoulder. It must have weighed 25 pounds. I tried pulling non-essentials out of the purse. It then weighed 24.5 pounds. I tried the other bags in my closet. They were either too small or big enough that everything fit and I was back to weight lifting with my tender shoulder. I had to buy this new purse, which fits just enough, for my health and well being.

I bought the other one because it was cute..

Besides, as N says, with purses, you never have to worry about size.

Made it

I made it through the first week. It's been a lot of fun and I plan to keep on blogging. I'm really grateful for the support I've gotten from family and friends - knowing I had some readers (thanks, guys!) made the first week a nerve-wracking good time.

I've been on a health kick lately and that's made an impact on my book choices. I've listened to Rethinking Thin which basically said trying to lose large amounts of weight is hopeless but was still surprisingly motivating. It made me decide to join Weight Watchers to see if I could lose a few pounds knowing that I'd have some accountability. (See, I can't do anything without making sure I've got some public humiliation in store if I don't come through.)

I just started listening to In Defense of Food on the drive home tonight. I think I'll like that too because I think it's going to be scathing toward food scientists and food manufacturers.

The best has been Such a Pretty Fat by Jen Lancaster. The book is a laugh riot. Even though it gets serious in a couple places, it was worth the price just for the description of the Weight Watchers meeting Jen attended. It sounded like the Weight Watchers meetings I've attended - sad really. There's the added bonus of reading about her time on the Atkins diet, her visit to the Jenny Craig office with the huge poster of Kirstie Alley whose eyes follow Jen wherever she goes, and her interactions with her personal trainer, Barbie, who looks like, well, a Barbie. I tried to read a couple of times while I was eating. I laughed so hard, I couldn't swallow so I guess it's an effective weight loss tool too.

I've made it a few days without coffee now. If I had a functioning brain cell, I'm sure I could tell you exactly how many days it's been. This morning I thought it was going pretty well. This afternoon I hit the wall. It could have been the conference call on transparency in communicating compensation programs, but I think it was the lack of coffee.

Good thing we brought another javelin

The bad thing about fibromyalgia is that I'm never sure when I'll have a bad day. I have to make a lot of accomodations because a flare-up can hit with no warning. Today was one of those bad days. I didn't have to work - my reduced work schedule is one of my accomodations - but I couldn't do much and riding was out. I was moping around and checking out the internet when I found a story about a photographer who got speared in the leg by a javelin.

Ryan McGeener of Provo Utah's Standard-Examiner was shooting photos at a high school track meet when he wandered into the area where the javelins where landing. Not smart. A javelin hit him in the leg, luckily missing anything vital. The ends were cut off by first aid people at the event and the rest removed at a local hospital. McGeener got thirteen stitches.

I have to tell you, that story cheered me up enormously. I might have fibromyalgia but at least I don't have a javelin in my leg. That's got to hurt.

As much as I admire the photographer for getting photos of his own pierced leg, my favorite part of the story is that the kid who threw the javelin, Anthony Miles, went on to win the event and the state championship. His coach was quoted as saying, "good thing we brought another javelin".

That, my friends, is fortitude in action.

It's late. I'm crabby. And tired.

Today was pretty much crap. Monday and work. Need I say more? Yeah, well, I will anyway.

First, there was the Monday staff meeting. Normally, I don't mind the meeting all that much. I get to pretend that I'm interested in what's going on and watch my co-workers' eyes glaze over when someone (me mostly) makes a comment or asks a question and drags the meeting on for another ten or fifteen minutes. Then there's the manager who can talk for hours and say absolutely nothing. It's fun to listen and try to find a tiny morsel of content in the meandering monologues. But all that changed today. The meeting was moved to 11 am to noon. Argh! They messed with my lunch break!

So, ok. I got over that because after the meeting I went the mall and looked at purses at Macy's.

Our department had planned a dinner to honor one of our group who hit a milestone anniversary with the company. We were to leave at 5:15 and meet at the restaurant. At 3, the boss gave me a project. At 5, I ask, "what's your timeline on this" because I have another two hours of work to finish. "Now", he says, "but I want you to come to the dinner". Right.

I got home after 8. No dinner. I checked my emails. The first one says "Do You Have Any Mental or Brain Problems?"

Nope. Not me.

**************************************************************
Hey - a special shout out to NM and Princess. You guys left me comments. Yippee!

No coffee - day three. Could be why I'm so crabby. And tired.

This is my brain on no coffee

I sat down this morning to write a post. After my computer locked up for the third time while trying to log onto the internet, I stopped swearing at my DSL provider (no, not really - the rat bastards - promising me lightening fast speed - ha!). I told myself I would try one more time and, instead of counting the number of times per minute the activity light flickered on the modem, I would walk away to get some tea.

Two hours later, my brain resurfaced.

I have no idea what I did for those two hours. I only know I didn't drink any coffee.

I'm off to the store now so I can stand by the coffee packages, breathe in the aroma and whimper.

Running Away

I have fantasies about running away - just getting in the car and driving until I find a cool place to stop. In these fantasies, the cool place includes wonderful people, fun work, a great guy (or two), and a hip, cozy place to call home. Oh, and a dog. I read a lot of books with this plot line because it's so darn appealing.

I will never do this for two reasons. I cannot leave my geezer horse, T, behind. Even if I owned a trailer and a vehicle to tow it, pulling the trailer endlessly until finding the cool place would be too big a worry. At 26, T doesn't need the upset. Plus, while running away is strange in a cute, quirky, I'm-finding-my-place kind of way, running away with a horse in a trailer is just plain strange.

The real reason, though, is health insurance. Everyone I know, including me, is totally terrified about life without health insurance. Why are the characters in the books with this story not concerned? You know it's fiction when they lose their jobs or their husbands or whatever and the first words out of their mouths are not "Oh my God! How do I get COBRA?!"

I could live with being the strange woman with the horse in a trailer. I tremble to think about living without health insurance. Monday, I'm back at work. (Hmmm... Could it be a national conspiracy between companies and the government to force people back to their less than inspiring jobs each week? Hmmm....)

For an excellent look at what could be done with health care in the US, see PBS.org for "Sick Around the World" hosted by T.R. Reid (who has been a huge nerd-crush for me long before he did this show).

The books that inspired me today: The Way Life Should Be by Christina Baker Kline and Love & Biology at the Center of the Universe by Jennie Shortridge. Both were were warm, funny and uplifting even if no one freaked out about losing health insurance.

Coffee free status update: pretty much want to kill myself but too tired to do so. (Note: herbal tea, while all very good in its way, is not coffee.)

Coffee Free Me

"Life is short. Stay awake for it." Caribou Coffee
cup

"Stay awake. Stay employed." My favorite coffee mug

"Coffee is the elixir of life." Me

If coffee is key to staying in the game, why am I considering giving it up? According to most of the collective fibromyalgia wisdom, it's evil. Caffeine destroys already fragile sleep cycles which lead to more fatigue and pain.

I've struggled through enough coffee fueled afternoons on the job to know that it's a no win - the more I drink, the more I need to stay awake. My bosses have not generally been the types who allow naps. The walk to the kitchen and the hot brew have often been the only things keeping my head from hitting the desk. When poking my brains out with a pencil is more compelling an option than looking at another spreadsheet, it's the coffee that keeps me sane. And my brains off the floor.

I love coffee in all its forms: the diner coffee that comes in thick ceramic mugs with unlimited refills; the first cup at home on a cold morning that warms my hands and wakes me up; the mocha with whipped cream at the bookstore; and even the tar-like remains in the pot at work at the end of the day. It's all great.

There doesn't seem to be any reason to give it up, does there? Yeah, but here's the thing. The last time I felt really good was after I recovered from a stomach bug that made drinking coffee a not so good thing. It took me a couple of days after I recovered to get back my taste for it. In the meantime, I felt alert and not tired. No really, not tired! It was something of a minor miracle. Then the siren call of the coffee got me and I went back on the stuff. I haven't felt that good since.

I don't know if I can do it. I'm afraid I will turn into a whiny, head-achy, nearly comatose wreck without it but I am going to give it a whirl for two weeks.

I'll post how it goes. If I survive.

In the meantime, have a Caribou turtle mocha for me, OK?

First Post

I'm way behind the times when it comes to cool technology enabled stuff but here I am blogging. I'm later to the game than most everyone but still ... yay! This is progress for me, the Luddite wanna be.

I've been messing around for the past couple of years saying that I'll write and that I'll take care of my health but neither has been happening. When I woke up this morning exhausted again, I thought enough! The fibromyalgia is not going away. If I want to have something to show for this life other than pain and fatigue, I'm going to have to do something about it. Why start with a blog? Honestly? It's a place to start.

The thing about me and fibromyalgia is that as time has gone by my life seems more and more limited. Now it seems like I've got nothing except work and the occasional outing that leaves me pretty much done in. That's no way to live.

I'm starting out here committed to posting every day for a week. I'm going to use this forum to stay accountable to myself for improving my health and getting some writing done. And having more fun.

So there.