Because this eventually happens…
(I keep thinking of an older pissed-off Obi-Wan Kenobi when I look at this.)
…which makes it rather difficult to blog. I have no idea why I thought I’d have plenty of time to catch up on all of of this while I was off of work. Most likely because I’m not used to taking anything stronger than ibuprofen and I underestimated my mental state or even my conscious state while on something stronger (I DID learn, however, that there are some painkillers I cannot take, and ended up back in the hospital after a week of them).
What kind of surgery did I have? The kind that is very humiliating to talk about. I finally had to bite the bullet and get it done because 1) it was painful and was only getting worse, 2) I was having to use up my vacation time to cover on days where I could suffer through the first attack and then schedule the next few days off, and 3) the times I couldn’t schedule off in advance-I was taking hits to my attendance, which can get you fired rather quickly when working for my company.
There were a lot of things I had read in preparation for this, and let me tell you that the amount of pain I was warned about was sooooooo true. Some of the things that I found online that had suggestions on how to cope with recovery were useful, some were not useful, and one or two made things worse. I’d love to do a write up on it, but then I’d have to actually admit to what I had done…. and it’s kinda embarrassing to so. Maybe I’ll get over the embarrassment one day, or maybe I’ll post it somewhere else.
But I’m finally off the painkillers (except for those occasional evenings when things get worse), and can coherently write again. Seriously, my Facebook entries while on the second set of painkillers had references to giant robot penises and other odd things (the first set of painkillers only kept me unconscious and never actually managed the pain, which is why I ended up back in the hospital with a different set of drugs).
So I’m back. And too late for all the Halloween stuff I put together too. I guess I’ll just save them for next year since I have them pretty much ready to go other than some final editing. But I have some cool Thanksgiving stuff! And Thanksgiving’s this week! …which means I’ll have to wait until next year for those as well… this sucks.
It’s now time to go and get ready for the Doctor’s visit that will determine when I’m allowed to go back to work, so I guess I’ll leave you with a photo of Nemo keeping my feet warm while I was sick:
This was probably the best thing that came out of this past month. Other than the giant robot penis comment on Facebook.
We’re just assholes.
Ask a Cat Friday is our new weekly column where you have the opportunity to ask a cat any question you’d like. Today, we were joined by Nemo, who is also known as “shit-stain” by his owners.
…which sounds much better than “too tired and depressed to write a cohesive or even coherent post”.
My writing has stalled. I put off a lot of what I wanted to say because I have a huge backlog of cake competition photos to sort through, organize, and post. I wanted to wait until I was completely caught up on that before talking about anything else, but then life, hockey, cat-sitting, and my soul-sucking job keep getting in the way.
And if it wasn’t one of those things, there’s cleaning up cat pee or foaming prozac-flavored cat drool. Seriously, if you let the prozac dissolve in your cat’s mouth instead of getting it straight down their throats–they will sit there, foaming at the mouth, while staring at you until you start to feel guilty about drugging them because you’re tired of all the territorial pissing in the hallway. Nemo has the whole “I’m suffering because of youuuuuuuuuuuu……” look down while the ONE time we dosed-up Molly–she went bat-shit insane and tried to rip us both apart.
So cake show photos will have to wait until whenever I get around to them.
Hockey won’t be in the way much longer as the Texas Stars decided to SUCK this year and didn’t make the playoffs. In fact, we came in dead last in our division. I’m not saying that I no longer love my players. In fact, we just renewed our season tickets for the next season. What I AM saying is that while I don’t know if it’s the players, the coach, or a combination of the two– they’d better suck a little less next year.
That’s all I’m asking for… just a little less suckage.
Work is mind-numbing. I’d go on about that, but I’m done thinking about it for the day.
What really triggered this rambling mess was hearing from one of my classmates from culinary school today. He’s moved back to Austin and is planning on going back to get his Patisserie and Baking certification. I’m so freaking jealous. We both took the culinary side of things because neither of us quite realized what we really wanted to do when we started (I had an feeling that baking was the way I wanted to go, but the baking-only program didn’t include the courses needed for the associates degree or the cost control classes that can make or break a successful business).
Since graduation, we’ve both done everything we could to figure out things on our own. The difference between the two of us is that he’s still cooking and baking for a living, and I’m dilly-dallying. To be blunt about it – I feel like a complete failure.
I know that it’s stupid to feel that way, but right now I can’t think about anything else.
…and I just noticed that the cat I’ve been cuddling with while typing this has a large wet dingle-berry hanging off his scraggily drugged-up ass. This is gonna be fun.