Friday, June 24, 2011


Have you ever noticed how one little thing can lead to another?  Of course you have; the majority of my readers are women!  If you are anything like me, you can start off doing a load of laundry and end up in Mexico! ;)  OK, small exaggeration, but I often find myself seriously off track of whatever I thought I would get done during any given time period.  Today, for instance...
I dropped the kids (all three of them!) off at summer school at 8:30.  

They are safely occupied for 3 glorious hours each weekday, and I try to use that time wisely.  Already by drop-off time, I had been knocked off of my original plan of cleaning and prepping for our weekend away by a phone call summons request invitation to have coffee with my mother instead.  I told her I could be there by about 8:40, but didn’t actually arrive until about 8:55 because I was further distracted by a rummage sale, where I found this.
29 inches wide, and 52 inches tall, it's solid oak.  Thank goodness there's no glass in those doors, because it already took three of us to get that puppy into my Vue, partly because I hadn’t totally unloaded my haul from rummaging yesterday (oops), and party because my real puppy was trying to make a break for it, since all the doors were open at once.  She’s not so little anymore.
So, I had coffee with Mom, and we talked for too long, and I got home about 10:20.  Oh, man!  Only an hour ‘til I had to go get those kids.  So of course I spent it cleaning and packing... NOT!
I went into the Porch of Peril, 

and pulled out the base of a vanity I’d been planning to redo for the girls’ room.  At that point, it was totally filthy, but still had the simple shape I remembered.  More importantly, it measured out to a workable base for the hutch, since my original planned piece did not.  There was a moment of panic, as I considered that I’ve been forbidden to bring any more “potential” to the PoP until I free some space.  

There’s also the offered bribe of new patio furniture if I will only clear out my stash, but that doesn’t seem to be going so well.
Once I moved my antique Singer treadle machine {For Sale!} out of the way, I hefted the vanity base into position and wasted used up another chunk of time wiping it down and then cleaning it thoroughly with Murphy’s Oil soap.  

Boy, I love the way that stuff smells.  Kinda clean, I guess.  :) A look at the clock, and I started to sweat about how the Rell I was gonna get that oak monstrosity up the three feet onto the base.  Too late!  11:25, and the kids dismiss at 11:30!  Craptastic!  Off I went...

to be continued...


Monday, June 20, 2011

Literally Crazy

On a personal note...

I have been in a ridiculous slump lately.  My last post was about parenting issues; there have been more of those going on, but, really, a lot of what’s been happening or not happening has been caused by or contributed to by my mood(s).  I have been slacking terribly around this house, and I have no patience for anything, including myself!  I wanted to blame everything on being a “single parent” so much (D travels for a living, after all).  I wanted to think that if I just had a little support, things would be so very different.  Everything I wanted to accomplish was blocked by some thing that I needed someone else to do for me.  Guess what?  These things are all true.  They do deserve some of the blame.  However...
The larger problem is just me.  I can’t seem to find my focus, I’m terribly emotional, and every little setback feels like a deathblow.  NO! I’m not pregnant!  What I am, though, is off my meds.  Antidepressants, specifically.  I’ve been on and off of them for most of my adult life (mostly on).  I have a chemical imbalance in m’brain, which sounds like a cop-out, but medication is the only thing that’s ever been reliable for keeping me on keel. 
The beginning of this year, I was feeling better than I have in recent memory, strong and confident, and I really thought that I could be okay on my own.  Coming off these types of meds, you have to wean down, which I did.  For about 5-6 weeks after my last dose, I felt great, and got back some of the other emotions that tend to be tamped down by SSRI’s (Selective Seratonin Re-uptake Inhibitors).  I bragged to my hubby how good I felt, I made progress with all the projects I wanted and needed to do, and I made friends!  I even lost weight - could it have been any better?  It was wonderful... right up until it wasn’t.  
Suddenly, every noise the kids made grated on me (OK, that’s not THAT unusual).  Not being able to find a tool or supply could make me cry, or turn me into a screaming maniac.  Little annoyances that I could usually shrug off now made me just enraged.  It’s ugly, people.
FYI: When I’m fully dosed, I can’t cry.  Can’t.  Not for reasons large or small.  It’s one reason I want so badly to be done with these pills.
Being a raving B%&$@ isn’t very conducive to writing what I try to make an informative, entertaining blog.  The fact that all I’ve accomplished lately is consuming an incredible amount of comfort food doesn’t help, either.
Long, long, story short...  please forgive my absence, and watch for things to resume funniness shortly.  I don’t like me like this, so I won’t expect you to, either.
Oh, and I WILL be asking for the help I need to get some things done around here.  Sometimes a bad mood is just a bad mood!
On to better things...