My Good but Crappy So-Called Summer

I'm looking through my calendar, and realized that since post-planning ended on May 23rd, the following has happened:

5/24 - invasive eye surgery is scheduled
5/25 - dentist refused to clean my teeth citing periodontal disease (or as I call it, advanced decay of your wallet, so you make up false problems to charge me more out-of-pocket)

6/1 - first interview for new job
6/2 - massage, facial, and Dunwoody Nature Park concert
6/3 - Rock'n'Roll Monster Bash at the drive-in
6/4 - doctorate program begins
6/8 - open gym and Nikki gets hired!
6/11 - second interview for new job
6/14 - final measurements for upcoming invasive eye surgery
6/14 - child back to the dentist who refused to clean my teeth
6/16 - haircut, cookout, shoe decorating
6/18 - the drive to Orlando.  It started with my passenger being 30 minutes late, followed by a 90 minute check-in experience.  Not the way I wanted to start vacation.
6/19 - beach, then ESPN opening ceremony
6/20 - win 1, lose 2
6/21 - win 1, lose 2
6/22 - win 0, lose 3
6/23 - win 3, taking the yellow championship (G, B, S, R, W, B, Y.... but its better than nothing, but puts us in 42nd place)
6/24 - drive home
6/25 - third interview and I'm hired!  Go to pay speeding ticket, get citied for Failure To Appear (even though I was in the hospital), costing me an additional $100, for a total of $200.  While paying, my car is booted for parking fines that have been in dispute for 3 years, costing me $200 to get the boot off.  Total cost? $400
6/26 - go to get new driver license.  After waiting 90 minutes, I am told... oh never mind.  I ended up confusing the person at the counter enough that I kept my old license, and got my new one with a change of address. Background check done for new job.
6/27 - New job?  Offer rescinded.  Because of something that happened 25 years ago, and which was only supposed to be a traffic ticket but which showed up on my background check as a misdemeanor.
 I cry.  A lot.  And fight for my job.
6/28 - go to the DAs office, where the super nice investigator told me "it happened 25 years ago.  What do you expect me to do?"  Two hours later I get the phone call saying I'm rehired. Go to sign the contract.  Then fly to DC.
6/29 - 7/2: DC.  Believe it or not, I had a great trip with no drama.

7/3 - See Biden talk.  Leave for airport.  Arrive at DC National at 1:30 pm for a 2:59pm flight.  Board plane.  Sit on tarmac for 3 hours.  Go back to airport.  Get off plane.  Reboard plane 15 minutes after arriving at gate.  Site on tarmac for 3 hours.  Go back to airport.  Stay at gate 30 minutes, which would give us plenty of time to eat except the 4:40 flight was canceled so the vendors are backed up.  Reboard plane.  Sit at gate while 4:40 people are rebooked for our flight, luggage is located and transfered.  Finally leave 1 hour later.  Diverted to Baltimore due to mechanical failure.  Arrive at BWI at 11:30 pm.  Have to get new boarding passes. Even though I paid for early boarding, the gate agent doesn't subscribe to silly ideas like that, and boards from the back to the front of the plane.  Finally leave BWI at 12:30am, arriving in Atlanta at 2:00am.  Home by 3:00 am, a mere 12 hours later.
7/4 - really, who expected me to do something more than actually get out of bed?
7/5 - New pilates class, then go to new job and get codes and stuff I need to access information on-line.  Dinner at Buckhead Diner with child.
7/6 - gym
7/7 - not. a. damn. thing.
7/8 - volleyball practice and pick the husband up at the airport.
7/9 - eye surgery, and HS volleyball tournament begins.

Don't worry, I still have a month to go....

Well, I had my second interview yesterday at the private school.  I cannot begin to say that I htink I would be a perfect fit for the school.  No fights!  Students who are held accountable for their actions by the family, friends, and administration!  Class sizes that don't approach 42!  Classes that range from 5-20!  Mac computers!  8 miles maximum from home!

Of course they couldn't make a decision yesterday.  But both the director and the principal seemed to like me, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed... 

Today I am sitting at my new favorite coffee bar in East Atlanta, waiting patiently for 2:00 to be here so I can pick the kid up from work.  I've written the paper for the assignment that is not due until Sunday, which I can't post because the portal is down for maintenance. 

The kid is officially registered for high school, and should be taking all accelerated/honors classes come fall.  The JV volleyball coach wanted to make sure she was registered so that the could play in a tournament July 9-12.  The new varsity coach is a person I recommended, and who coaches for her club. 

Next week is AAU nationals, and Orlando.  I am so ready.  Not for the volleyball portion, but to get the hell out of town.  I can't wait to go to the beach for the day.  To have a hotel room to myself.  To relax, read, do some cross-stitch, and work on my doctorate.  Of course this week is filled with appointments in preparation for my eye surgery. 

I really wish this was barn time and not writing time, but I'll take what I can get.

This has been one of those days where I ask myself - - why did I give up a good paying job in diagnostic radiology to teach math and science to 8th graders?  Somebody please tell me, because I don't know. 

All I Wanted for Christmas

Today has not been a good day.

It started innocently enough.  Got my radiology reports from the hospital - - they do not show a break, thank god.  Went to the chiropractor, and then to lunch at Morton's.  I think getting my radiology reports was the highlight, because it all went downhill from there...

Lunch was supposed to be relaxing, except that it wasn't.  Then the three of us went to Wal-mart (the husband) for cat and dog food, and to Ulta (daughter and myself) for a birthday present.  Except that the daughter refused to shop for a birthday present for someone she claims to have not seen in a "year or more."  So I asked her to find something she would like, and the only thing she came up with was orange and black nail polish.  All of my finding things resulted in the same response - - "I don't know."  I finally got sick of it and walked to Wal-mart, unassisted, to buy what she wanted - - a gift card.  Which led to my getting yelled at by the husband in Wal-mart for walking there and getting card, which led to my walking out.  The entire way home I kept telling both of them I was tired, and needed to get into bed and relax.

Of course as soon as we got home, the television in the bedroom got turned on so there was no sleeping and relaxing involved.  I ended up trying to sleep in my brother's room, which was cold.  Every time I went into the master bedroom there they were - - husband in his chair, child in my bed, watching tv or on the internet.  Not once did I ever get to get in the bed.  Its not 6pm and they are still upstairs where they want to be, but the person who has the concussion and needs to be resting is down in the basement, cleaning up after the cats and shaking with rage.

I'm tired of being asked what I want for Christmas.  I want to get better.  I want to be able to see.  I want to be able to drive.  I want a new horse.  I want to be able to take care of my parents and to put away all the crap that is sitting in the basement that needs to be put away.  I want to get away when I need to.  I want things to be back to the way they were.  That's all I want.

Sitting at Home

I have been told that this is now day 23 since my accident. 

I don't remember what happened.  I remember having Buzz brought out on Saturday, November 20th - - the Saturday before Thanksgiving  I remember riding Buzz on Saturday, and Sydney choosing not to ride him.  It was a good ride.  We worked through some things, and cantered him in the lower arena with Laura watching and helping as needed. 

I don't remember much of Sunday.  I remember going to the barn.  I remember parts of grooming him.  I don't remember at all getting on him and riding.  What I have been told is that Clapton and Icer were turned out in the paddock next to the covered arena.  That at some point they started acting up, whether it was in response to Buzz or something else, I will never know.  I hate asking Sydney what happened.  But I do know she called 911, and I woke up in the hospital.  My clothes were cut off of me and my helmet was destroyed. 

I don't blame Buzz.  I don't blame the other horses.  And I certainly don't put the blame on myself.  I don't know what happened and I never will.  People who blame me or the horse for the accident were not there.  I stayed on until Buzz settled down, and then came off.  Please don't tell me what I should have or should not have done.  You weren't there.  I chose not to lunge him based on his behavior the day before. I have a decent seat.  I'm a good rider. Second guessing me isn't helping me.

Sydney rode Buzz.  She had some good lessons on him.  Nicky rode Buzz.  She said she had a good ride on him.  Again, I don't blame Buzz.  I don't blame myself.  Hopefully he will still be available when I am ready to ride again.  I liked him.  A lot.  With Riley, I had gotten used to not necessarily always using a helmet.  I will always wear a helmet in the future.  Always.

Now for the recuperating part.  As I said, supposedly this is day 23 since my accident.  I remember waking up at Atlanta Medical Center.  I remember Laura coming in to see me.  I remember going to the barn and seeing (or trying to see) Sydney ride.  I don't really remember Thanksgiving.  I know I've been to have x-rays, MRIs, CTs, EKG, etc.  I know that there is a bleed that shows up on the scans.  I know I have a concussion at the least.  I know that it is going to take time to get better.  I know I can type.  But what I want and what I know are two very different things.  I want to be healed.  I want to go get my car.  I want to go back to work. 

Its hard, being at home.  We moved back to Dunwoody because my father asked us to.  My mother had broken her pelvis, my parents were both nearing 80, and they needed someone to move in with them.  My sister wasn't available, and having three kids here would have driven my father crazy.  So after a long discussion and talk, Steve and I made the choice.  It hasn't been easy.  I guess my father thought that after 18 years together, 14 1/2 of them married, that we would move in with nothing except the clothes on our backs.  My father wants us here, likes having us here, except when he's sober, which makes him unhappy and bitter.  Then he makes stupid comments that drive us insane.  He doesn't do well with change, and we have to accept that.  But his inflexibility makes it very hard for us.  That and my not being able to work.

I'm ready for the healing to be over.  I'm ready to be able to see one image.  I'm ready to be able to walk like I used to - - without holding on to anything.  I'm ready for the bleed to heal, for my being able to drive, to go back to work.  I know I'm not cleared until January 2nd, but I'm hoping that it doesn't take that long.  People have said that it takes 6 weeks for a concussion to heal.  I'm tired of spending the day in bed.  I'm tired of feeling tired. 

I'm ready.  Really.  I'm ready.

I've really got to do this more.

Blogging is nothing if not cathartic.  And it has been one busy summer for me. 

Summer started with the moving of the horse to a new barn.  He's happy, I'm happy, and he will hopefully gain weight.    It was still a tough move, and one that would have gone smoother if our moving wasn't simply ignored.  Once I told Lynn that we were leaving, Sydney and I became persona non gratis.  We would show up to ride, and no one would speak to us.  The day we left, no one said goodbye.   Both Syd and I thought that we had made friends at that barn; friends that we would have forever.  Turns out all we had were acquaintances.  Sad.


So we're at the new barn, which is quite a bit more expensive, but all of us are happy.  Doofus has settled in nicely, and Syd has started jumping lessons, which she loves.  Poor  Riley is having to suffer through my struggles with keeping a constant contact with him, and relearning my position, especially my "un-quiet" hands.  It comes, it goes, and while I know that we're both doing better, I wish it was easier.   He still isn't gaining weight, and the vet is coming out to look at him tomorrow.  I'm hoping that there is a quick (and cheap) fix for whatever ails him, but I'm preparing myself for the fact that it may be time to seriously begin looking for a newer model.

School begins in two weeks; after being moved around several times this summer, I am back to teaching 8th grade math & science.  I'm actually looking forward to it, mainly because Syd will be in the 8th grade with me, but not in any of my classes.  I'm not going to be grade level chair, and that's o.k. with me.  The only things I want to be in charge of are the trip to six flags and graduation. 

Syd's had a busy summer, which means I've had one also.  Her vb is going great; there is a 300% improvement over this time last year, and she has already made the starting rotation at school.  We're (as in I'm) pushing her because I'd like her to make the 15yo Boom team, as opposed to playing for the 14's.  I think she's capable, and I want to be away from some of the parents and kids I had to deal with last year. 

Ah-choo!

There are few things in life that I truly hate - - having a cold/sinus infection is one of them.

I can handle being sick.  I've had pneumonia, bronchitis, strep; those illnesses don't bother me.  Sure, I feel like crap, but I'm not miserable. I want to sleep more, so I stay bundled up and in bed.  Even with bronchitis, the right cough syrup will help me sleep. 

But give me a sniffles or a runny nose, and I'm all "please remove my head and don't worry about the anesthesia."   Realistically, I know that I don't need antibiotics.  This is a viral infection, and will work its way through my body in due time.  Drink lots of fluid, take my vitamin C, have kleenex on hand, take over the counter drugs, and eventually I'll feel better.  But when my nose starts to run, all common sense runs out the door with it and to the closest minute-clinic to beg for drugs.

Can you tell I feel miserable?  I had envisioned two weeks of riding my horse, writing papers, and generally getting stuff done.  Instead, I'm wallowing in self-pity and snotty kleenex.