The Covers Hog

Boi is a Covers Hog. He likes to mess up our bed sheets/covers and then pull them all onto him and off of me.

Or he'll mess them all up and, when rearranging, pulls the warm covers off of me and onto him.

Last night I woke up at 3am and Boi had every stitch of the covers (king size mind you). I was shivering and gently repositioned the covers and snuggled up close to Boi...only to discover that he was covered in sweat. Does that strike anyone else as ironic?


Boi says that I take up all the bed. I disagree. I have created, for your viewing pleasure, a few diagrams illustrating my point. I submit into evidence Item A:

As illustrated in picture labeled Item A, there is a post in the middle of the bed. This post divides the bed into two parts. The post is shown in said Item A above in red.

If it pleases the court, I will now submit Item B into evidence:

As shown in Item B, I clearly sleep on side A (my side) of the bed. Boi clearly sleeps on his side (side B). He just takes up more space which is not my fault. Blame it on hormones, blame it on God, but don't blame it on me.

I now submit Item C into evidence if it pleases the court:

I rest my case, Your Honor.

Boi states that I am trying to prejudice y'all with all my fancy pictures. He also says that I'm elaborating this all out of proportions. I disagree. I believe that this is incredibly important and stand by the fact that I clearly stay on my side of the bed. And usually with less covers than he has (silly Covers Hog).

Depression

As my title indicates, today I'm going to write about depression. If the topic will dishearten you, please feel free to skip this post.

You've been warned. It took me a lot of courage to write this to admit to the world, but I felt like I need to put this out there.

The Depression Monster: Here to Ruin My Day

I once had a conversation with someone who is very important to me about depression. She told me that depression isn't something that needs medication. She pretty much indicated that if someone is depressed, they should get over it.

It's not that easy. I suffer from major depression. And yes, I mean suffer. It hurts just as much as physical pain. For me personally, I'd rather have physical pain. I can understand people who hurt themselves to forget. I don't hurt myself, but I can understand.

My depression doesn't need a reason to surface. My life can be perfectly fine with no stress or worries and suddenly BAM! There It rears its ugly head.

How do you just 'get over' that? When there's nothing to 'get over', what can you do?

For me, I write. Or draw. Just like I normally do for y'all, but sad instead of happy. I usually either delete those writings or post them on Facebook. Today it isn't enough.

I'm not telling y'all about my depression to be an attention whore or for your sympathy. In fact, one of the reasons I feel that I can post this here, is that most of you I don't know. I know that there is at least one fellow blogger that reads my blog that suffers from depression. She's never come out and admitted it, but I can sometimes see it seeping through into her writing.

Dear friends, the reason that I'm sharing this with you is so that you are aware. Know that you can never really know what's going on with people around you. Be mindful of others.

Most of my friends don't know about my mental health. I've been on medications (which definitely do help!) and in therapy. For the most part though, this is very personal for me.

I don't talk about it much. For anyone who wanted to pay close enough attention though, there are markers.

When I get really depressed, I suffer bad insomnia. I stay awake (sometimes for days on end). But then once my body finally lets me sleep, I can sleep up to 24+ hours. My sleep is like a crazy roller coaster when I'm depressed.

Sometimes I get headaches that I would swear come from my neck and radiate pain upwards. Other times, my bowels get really upset.

My extremities get cold when usually I'm like a furnace; I actually run 99 degrees on a normal basis. But my fingers and toes will go so cold that they go numb.

When I finalized my plans for how I wanted to commit suicide, I knew I needed help. The psychiatrist and therapist both helped tremendously.

When I knew I was going to lose my health insurance, I worked with my psychiatrist to titrate myself off my medications. My therapist helped prepare me for times like now.

Boi is my rock. He knows all of me and loves me just the way I am. He knows the right things to do to help. He listens. He can sit with me and just be quiet. He holds me. God gave me the perfect partner.

Most people who find out I am depressed are incredibly surprised. They're all like, "You? But you're so happy all the time!" But happiness is my shield. If no one can ever tell that there's something wrong, I won't have to admit it.

Depression can affect anyone. Qualities in people such as rudeness, loudness, being angry, quiet, happy, etc can hiding things you'll never know.

You never know when your words will make or break someone.

Thank you for listening dear reader. Sometimes I just need a good ear. I already feel lighter than I did when I sat down.

And a special thank you to My Boi who always loves and supports me in all I do.

The Witching Hour

I have no idea but for some reason, I'm only inspired to write in the middle of the night. Lately I have been keeping more 'normal' hours...and it sucks. I've missed writing!

I'm still working on my 'Goodnight Moon' spoof post but none of y'all responded to having read the book so I may not post it...we shall see.

I think I'm getting old. I swear that my memory is disappearing. I do all sorts of puzzles and word problems to keep my brain young but...I think that my short term memory has had a spell put on it. What type of spell you ask? Well, if I had to guess, I'd say that some wizard turned it into a goldfish. But that's just a guess.

So I've started to text message myself little reminders of things I'd like to blog about. I'll type it in and send it to myself...and by the time (like 2 seconds later) my phone chimes to let me know I have a text, I've forgotten already that I sent the text, and I get all excited thinking that someone actually wants to convey a message to me...only to realize that it was me. It happens every time.

So the Boi and I went out to dinner the other night. I excused myself to go to the restroom and took a while before I came back. Boi looked at me as I sat down and asked, "Do you feel better?"  I looked at him a little weird before I realized what he was thinking.

I laughed as I explained to him that the reason I was gone so long was because a song came on while I was in the restroom. I didn't know the song but it was pretty (I texted myself some of the lyrics to check out later...) and I wanted to listen to the whole song, and I could hear it better in the bathroom so I stayed in there until it was done. He looked at me with his 'you are so strange/that deserves blog space' look.

Gabe gave me a magnet with a picture of her older son on it the other day. I handed it to The Boi for safe keeping. I asked Boi for it to put on the fridge when we got home. He looked at me a little blankly for a few moments and then started to laugh.

He explained that he had put it in his pocket and realized that it was getting bent while we were at his parents house. So he pulled it out and stuck it to their fridge with the intention of getting it before we left. Now his parents have a picture magnet on their fridge of a child they don't know. Way to go Boi.

The Boi and I spent part of our Christmas with Gabe and her family. When we were getting our food (buffet style Christmas = awesome), I laughed at Gabe because she was making chocolate milk to drink with her food. I looked at her and asked, "Really?"

We all sat down to eat together, and (I'm not kidding) unprovoked, her family and friends started one by one (as they sat down) asking her if that was actually chocolate milk she was drinking with dinner. Her face kept turning pink, and it was really funny. It turned extremely funny when her 3 year old yells across the room, "Are you drinking chocolate milk, mommy?"

So while The Boi and I were at that restaurant the other night, an elderly couple sat down at the table next to us. When the waitress came to take their drink orders, the sweet looking little old lady requested chocolate milk. Boi and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.




Random info: I always try to spell check my work before posting it (so I don't look like a total idiot). Today, it doesn't like 'texted'. I got to thinking about it and realized that it probably wasn't right so I googled 'past tense of text'. Turns out to be a really huge debate because text is a noun not a verb. Except that recently we've kind of turned it into a verb. So I'm leaving it there and to all my grammar friends, sorry if I've offended y'all.

Working Hard

Hello all!

The Boi and I have been doing some temp work at a place named Paul Davis Restoration (my pyro-spouse Gabe's mom [Leslie] is who we're working under). It's fun but really hard work.

We rode together to work on Friday (only one set of keys were with us) and both of us accidentally left our phones at home. We started off the day at the same job location with co-workers Dale and Debbie. We were cleaning up a home that was damaged in a fire (grease fire happened while the homeowner was cooking fish).

About midway through the day, Boi and Dale were called away to a home with water damage while Debbie and I stayed at the fire job.

Boi got passed around to several different jobs throughout the day. I stayed with the house fire job all day. In the late afternoon, Debbie and I finished up for the day and got ready to head back to the office. Here is where things started to go awry.

When we got in the van to leave, it wouldn't start. Poor Debbie had been fighting with a broken vacuum cleaner and was already frustrated so this really ticked her off. I just stifled my laughter while she called management letting them know about the van.

I spotted a neighbor down the road aways and asked him if he would give us a jump start. He said sure and helped us get the van started.

When we got back to the office, the manager let me know that I was done for the day and could head home...there was only one little detail: Boi had the car keys. Debbie even offered to drop me off at home...only the house key was also with Boi. So I settled in to wait for Boi.

Two hours later, Boi was done and popped in to the office. Sweet! I was so ready to go home. But alas, it was not to be. Boi sheepishly told me that he had left the keys in his lunchbox...which was in the company truck that Doug (Gabe's brother/Leslie's son) was driving...Doug who was still out working and would be back who-knows-when.

No worries though. Leslie drove us to her house to hang out until Doug got done for the day. Friday nights are pizza nights at Leslie's, and we would have probably went there anyway.

The really ironic part of that was that Doug came into the office shortly after I was done for the day. So I could have grabbed the lunchbox out of the truck, had I only known. But Boi and I had been communicating though others all day (remember we left our phones at home?) and that fact never made it to me.

Craziness that's all it was. It all just made me laugh because, really, what else could I do?

I'm so grateful for the work. I know it's only temporary but every little bit helps. I got to work Thurs, Fri, Mon, and Tue. It's some pretty tough work. I've cleaned up soot, moved things, pulled up linoleum, and helped tear down drywall. Who knew I could work so much!? Doug took my picture working yesterday so someone would have evidence that I actually can work hard. I'll have to see if I can get him to send the picture to me so I can share it with y'all.

Track List:
Dog snoring
Dryer tumbling clothes
Clock Ticking

PS - Sorry I didn't draw any pictures. My excuse is that my hands are cramping too much from all the hard work I've been doing. I am working on a poem for y'all though. It's a spoof but I'm a little worried that none of y'all have ever read the original. Have any of you read Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown?

Ladies and Gentlemen I'm back. Kind of.

Hello dear readers who are so sweet to have not abandoned me. I'm back. Kind of. I'm doing my best. Really.

I try to keep my blog light hearted and funny so I haven't written lately. Why? Well duh. Because I haven't felt all light hearted and funny. Or even happy for that matter. I've been all:

And you didn't really want to read about that, did you? In a nut shell, The Boi lost his job. There it is. I've said it. Very few people knew that stupid sad little fact and now I'm putting it out there for the whole world to read. It wouldn't be so bad if I was working, but I haven't been. We'd been living pay check to pay check. Which really kinda sucks because I was counting on some of those checks coming in, you know?

I was going to wait until one of us found a job, and it was:

again, but so far that hasn't happened. I really didn't want to leave y'all hanging because, really, who knows how long it will be before things are on that uphill slide again?

So I decided to fake it for you. Who knows, maybe this will be good therapy for me and I'll leave happier too. If my posts have a little while between them, please just know that I'm running around trying to find a job and applying for government help in the mean time and will write again just as soon as I possibly can.

Another interesting thing that happened was that our wonderful government called me in to be a juror. I came home a few months ago (remember the WA trip?) and found my summons in the mountain of mail that awaited me at home. I was all like:

WHAT!? Jury duty? Again? I've already had:

1. County court
2. Traffic court
3. Family court

Now you want me for Federal (state) court?! To top it off, I had to serve in Florence, South Carolina. For those of you unfamiliar to my area, that is exactly 2 hours, 26 minutes/145.88 miles away from my house. Joy.

On November 16th I arrived to said courthouse promptly at 9:30am. I had high hopes that it would be like all my other jury experiences where I didn't really have to serve; I'd just show up and not get picked as a juror on any of the cases on the docket.

Fate had a different ending in mind. A beginning really. Only one trial was set to take place which meant only 14 jurors would be picked (12 and 2 alternates). I was sure I was going home. Four hours later, I was one of the few left standing which meant that I had been picked for the trial and would have to come back on Nov 30th when the trial would start.

I decided to look at this as an adventure. A new post for y'all. I began to be hopeful. Full of merriment and mirth. I was all:

A sense of excitement came over me, and I waited impatiently through the Thanksgiving holiday for the 30th to come.

I arrived at the courthouse nervous with anticipation. At the top of the elevator I was greeted and taken to the jury room. I immediately began to people watch. It's my favorite sport. The first thing I noticed is that only 13 people showed up so we were already down 1 juror.

Meet the jurors:

1. Mouth - She was an extremely loud lady who liked to over share. For example, she didn't bring any clothes with her. Our instructions clearly said to bring clothes just in case the trial went longer than one day. So she went to Goodwill and bought some. This wouldn't bother me except that means she didn't wash them. The worst part was her second trip to Goodwill because that time she "even bought boxers" because none of the underwear "was pretty". Think about that. Gross.

2. Teacher - The whole state to choose from and a teacher from my area also got picked. She was our 'hold out'. She stood by her beliefs a good long time until we wore her down and crushed her. Oh okay. Not really. I mean she did hold out a long time. We just worked out a good compromise.

3. Jaime - She was AWESOME. A new bff for me. She lives in Florence and was kind enough to let me stay at her house. I was going to have to drive home each night (you can stay in a hotel but you pay up front and the courts reimburse you later; not happening for me). She even let me have dinner with her family (husband and two adorable boys). She's smart and funny and truly the greatest all around.

4. Crazyolddude - The name fits. I wouldn't have wanted to be left alone with him. He kept giving me knowing looks and wagging his eyebrows. *shudder*

5. Readerman - Quiet man who gave me the names of several books I'll probably read. One day. Maybe.

6. Glassesman - Quiet. No real information. Possible serial killer?

7. Angela - Very nice blond lady who likes to occasionally speed.

8. Writerman - Little information available on this guy. He seemed nice enough. He liked to write everything on the large pad of paper provided to the jury.

9. Lispguy - I feel kinda bad naming this guy this name, but he did have a lisp. Unfortunately that's all I got on him.

10. Sleeper - This guy turned out to be our alternate. Probably because the judge noticed that he slept through most of the trial.

11. Trucker - Nice older man who was a trucker. He also seemed to know a lot about drugs. *raisedeyebrow*

12. Kim - Nice lady from Columbia, SC. She kept telling me, "You crazy." I took it in a nice way since she was smiling while she said it.

For any *coughidiot* wondering who juror 13 was, it was me. I would have drawn pictures of all these people for you but honestly that's just too much work. Sorry.

They brought us all into the courtroom and let us sit in the most squeaky chairs of all time. I'm still not sure how much about the case I'm allowed to talk about so I won't say too much. Just know that it was a cocaine/crack cocaine case for Mr. Man with lots of scary people testifying. And I will try to avoid the Marion/Mullins area in South Carolina from now on at all costs.

The trial lasted only two days. Then the judge was all:

And sent us away to decide. We couldn't come to an agreement so we ended up coming back for another day (Day 3/Final Day). 

It just so happens that at the end of that second day is also when I found out that Boi had been fired. The trial was no longer fun at that point, and I just wanted to get home to Boi who was pretty depressed.

On that last day, after much more deliberation, we found Mr. Man:
Count 1: Guilty of Drug Conspiracy (he seemed to be a 'do boy/runner' for his very scary drug lord cousin)
Count 2: Not Guilty of Possession with intent to distribute (we all thought the drugs belonged to the Other Man in the car with Mr. Man)

During the case, I drew pictures of the clerk of court, attorneys, and judge on the writing pads they provided for us to take notes on. I intended to scan them in and put them on here but realized they were not very flattering. I would hate for one of them to someday (when I'm very famous and people want to read everything I've ever written) see their pictures here. I wonder if the judge could hold me in contempt for drawing them? Better safe than sorry so no pictures.

PS - I wrote this all while jacked up on cough medicine. And I apologize to all the jurors for poking fun at them. Please know it was all in good fun and not meant as hateful if any of you ever happen to read this.