Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Sandy Toes, Salty Kisses, and Butt Support of the American Revolution

I suck.  I suck, I suck, I suck.  I really want to be better at this blogging regularly but blogging occasionally is a hell of a lot better than not blogging at all.  Funny, I feel the same way about exercising as I do about blogging.  I think about it a lot, but don't actually get around to it a lot.  I saw something online today that said "I am fat because a tiny body couldn't hold all this awesomeness."  I feel this way about 50% of the time.  The other 50% of the time I wonder if chairs will hold me and if I will fit through certain places.  This was especially true on our recent vacation to Virginia Beach and Colonial Williamsburg.  The day we arrived I felt tremendously self-conscious and we didn't even put our swim suits on.  Day two I warmed up to the beach and stopped worrying about what I looked like and enjoyed myself.  I'm not very happy that there are pictures to prove this beach vacation but whatever.  When we left the beach and headed to Colonial Williamsburg, I thought I was in the clear - no such luck.  I forgot about one thing - the dreaded Colonial chair.  Not only did many of the Colonial doors into the Colonial buildings open in the middle only giving you half the Colonial doorway to squeeze through, but there were these chairs - Colonial chairs - that are historically accurate to the Colonial time period in material and construction.  Apparently, I am not historically accurate to the Colonial time period because these suckers hurt.  They were about half the size of my butt with knobs that poked in some not-so-comfortable places.  And that was just the design.  The materials used to make said chairs would creak and snap and basically make you feel like its the soundtrack to your ass falling on the Colonial floor.  But I survived and promised myself that I would get back in the gym as soon as the patella femoral tendonitis I had was healed.  That and as soon as the gym we joined was back in business after THE TORNADO!  That's right!  We joined a gym down the street and within a month I had hurt myself and shortly thereafter the gym was hit by an EF1 tornado.  Luckily, we were not there.  Even though it was our usual day and time to go, we didn't.  But I'm thinking there's no way more direct for God to say be happy with who you are first and if you then still want to change yourself - all the better - than with 100mph rotating winds.  So as the gym heals and I heal, I tried to take stock of my self-worth and self-esteem and realize that I am fine.  I like me.  No, I love me.  And I want to slowly but surely improve me - for my health and my family, not for vanity or appearances.  And if I ever find a time machine or develop a means for time travel, I will omit the Colonial period as a destination option. 

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Winter 2015 Sponsored by Disney -or- I wanna Have Oprah's Butt

I need to do some soul searching.  Somehow over the course of the last year, I have become overwhelmed.  I have turned my hobby into an etsy shop, I have jumped into a new personal business, I have started doing vendor shows, I have volunteered as a lead for a major local charity event, I have a sick bird in my living room, I have a sick kid away at college, I have a dog now who has recently had surgery, I have a husband who is out of town at the moment, and I don't know how I'm going to do it all.  All of this without one of my medications because thanks to my "new, improved" health insurance plan, it costs $800.  They are trying to force us to use their ridiculous mail order pharmacy (because sending drugs through the mail is so safe.)  When I called and talked to them, they said that yes it is $800 for a month's worth of the drug.  However, they could provide me with 3 months of the drug for <drumroll please> $800.  Yes, I'm not kidding.  Plus the plan which last year was a no deductible plan, is a high deductible plan so not only am I paying more for prescriptions, I am also paying full price for every doctor visit I have.  I have no idea where this money will come from.  I wish I was like Oprah and could just pull it out my ass.  Being upper middle class sucks.  But we were poor when we first got married and that sucked too.  Maybe life just sucks in general for everyone no matter how much you have or how much you make.  I was happy.  Through much of 2013 and 2014 I was happy.  But 2015 seems to want to break me.  So I think I need to do some serious soul searching.  I need to figure out what is important to me and what I can let go.  Where my focus should lie and what I can afford to let fall by the wayside.  I just feel like I have way too many balls in the air and the fact that I take everything personally doesn't help that.  Someone honks their horn in traffic, I think they are honking at me.  Someone opposes my viewpoint and I think they just don't like me.  I doubt everything I do.  It takes an effort for me just to appear as though I'm a normal person.  I'm exhausted and I am avoiding it all by sitting here and writing this blog.  I need my medication - obviously.  I need that little pink pill to help me be like Elsa and let it go.  I can't wait till April when the generic is scheduled to come out.  Damn insurance.  Damn illnesses.  Damn expenses.  Damn people.  Damn, damn, damn.  Maybe I should just hermit away till April for everyone's damn sake.  Look out world!  Here comes unmedicated Elsa!  Maybe that's why its so damn cold and snowy around here lately.