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Regaining Focus

Today is Veteran's Day and I spent a great deal of time today thinking about my husband and all the men and women like him who run toward a fight, refuse to back down and give up everything if for nothing else than the good of their family.  He's my hero and I love him.  I especially love him for the e-mail he sent me this morning:

Today may be a day that thanks veterans for their sacrifices but we couldn't do it without hard working and dedicated spouses like you.  So to you Melinda and to the 1000's  of spouses past and present...THANK YOU for your hard work and dedication.

Love,

Hubs

He's a keeper.

Now that I have the main level of my house (except the dining room table) squared away, I'm feeling much more centered and okay.  I feel like I can take on my bedroom (Lord help me) as well as the basement (a never ending laundry/clothes storage nightmare) without losing my sanity. 

I also feel like I can use the next week to check some things off the Adoption To-Do List.  First up?  Making an actual, written list.  I should have a good chunk of time tomorrow while poor M2 is in the dentist chair to work on the list.  It will be a good distraction.  I'm prayerful that this won't ruin her on dentists forever.  They commented on what a good patient she is.  Let's keep it that way, folks!  I also want to schedule a cleaning and inspection of M1's mouth while we're there.  Lord only know what's going on in her trap given the shoddy workmanship of our last dentist.  Once the ducks are in a row on their prognoses, I will either be lodging a better business bureau complaint and/or a complaint with the licensing bureau.  I suppose I should also make an appointment at another dental facility to see if my teeth are ready to rot out of my head too.  Good grief.

I ran around 1.8 miles tonight.  I was not dragging nearly like I was when I ran 2.25 miles the other day and I could have kept going but I'd run out of flat street and I had a pot roast simmering.  So, I walked up my steep street as a cool down and called it a night.

M1 has something going on with her ankle/foot.  I'm thinking she rolled it or landed on it funny in basketball without realizing it.  Now, it's been swelling and it looks bruised.  I'm going to ask her basketball coach to take it easy on her (let her shoot but not run around) until I can get her into the doctor on Friday.  Tomorrow is completely booked and I'm not certain I could get her in at this point even if I tried.  Guess I will find out when I call tomorrow.

I'm trying to book M1's birthday party for next weekend.  If I can't get it booked, I can't mail invitations in time to make it not rude.  Why this woman will not return my call is beyond me.  I think I'm just going to try and stop in there tomorrow and ask to book the party room.  Maybe I can see her face to face and shame her into doing her job?  Craziness.  Easiest $200 bucks this place will make and in this economy you'd think they'd want to take your money.

Henry has ingratiated himself into M2's room.  I believe he is likely hogging her bed.  She wanted someone to cuddle with her tonight.  She did not specify that the someone had to be human, so Henry volunteered.  I can't believe he's still up there.  He knows a good gig when he finds it, though.  He needs to go outside before officially calling it a night.  We'll see if he can return to his Snooze-a-pa-looza afterward.  Usually, dogs in beds are verboten here.  However, I want to sleep alone.  M1 wants to sleep alone.  And, M2 was overtired tonight and I didn't feel like experiencing a tantrum.  Yeah.  Good mothering.  I know.  Sue me.  Everyone said I needed to be nicer to these dogs, so make up your minds!

I'm hitting the hay so I can hit the ground running tomorrow.  Will be a looooong and crazy day.

Shhh, Don't Tell

November is the actual, official National Blog Posting Month in which you are supposed to blog every day.  I remembered last night after I put myself to bed at 10:30 p.m. that I had not blogged yesterday.

Sigh.

Oh, well.  I could reset the date and time on this post so it would cover yesterday, but that would be dishonest.  And, you know lawyers, we're all about the honesty.

Yesterday, I ran like I said I would.  I did 2.25 miles according to Map My Run.  I have a cool app on my phone that does all that, but I'd forgotten my phone at home.  I need to get more clothes with pockets or some kind of something to carry my phone in because I don't like having to have something in my hand when I run.  But, I do like knowing my data.  I'd like to know what my split was for the first mile.  I know I was DRAGGING after that, so it would be interesting to see how I did mile one.  Oh, well.  There is always tomorrow.

The girls and I are so looking forward to tomorrow and Friday.  Thursday is a little hinky.  Tomorrow, the girls get out of school at 1:25.  After that, we have absolutely nothing on the calendar.  Friday, they have the day off.  Thursday is a totally different story.  At 8 a.m., M2 has a check of her ear tubes before heading to school.  At 10, I have a meeting with a student.  At 1:25, the girls will be dismissed from school.  I have a parent teacher conference for one of the girls at 4:00 and another at 5:00.  M1 has basketball from 5:30-6:30 and then I'm headed to a friend's to watch her younger son while she and her husband go to their older son's parent-teacher conference.  Phew!

I'm considering taking my doctor up on her offer to run some bloodwork to see why I've been so tired off and on lately.  Part of me thinks it's just life.  I also think sometimes I may be just burned out on the adrenaline that pumps through my veins on a daily basis.  I mean, if you know even 1/10 of what I have going on right now, your reaction would be -- OF COURSE you are tired!

I'm just mostly trying to avoid the desire to curl up in a little ball and pull myself into a shell.  Aside from all the craziness of the world -- people's inability to call a terrorist a terrorist while the Department of Homeland Security thinks Tea Party goers should be labeled as such, the Speaker of the House shelling out millions of dollars upon millions of OUR dollars to secure votes for a crappy, power grabbing healthcare bill no one wants, and being thankful that if your husband is deployed, it isn't to Afghanistan-- I have lots going on at the house.

And, just like when I was preparing to give birth to each of my daughters, I find myself standing on the edge with my toes gripping the earth beneath it.  I, literally, never packed a bag for the hospital for M1.  My mother-in-law did it right before they took me to the hospital.  Sure.  I knew where everything was, but I had never put it in the bag.  For M2, I packed my bag a week before I was due because I was having bad contractions.  But, when my induction didn't go as planned and I'd made it to 5 cm but no further, I insisted I should go home.  I was determined.  Then, I was drugged with Ambien and I fell into a crazy deep sleep.  Both times it was painfully obvious it was time to evict the little darlings and yet, I stood around like the whole thing was news to me.  I'm not sure why I did that or how I can snap out of it now, but it's happening again.

I've not made an appointment with the travel nurse for my shots.

I've not ordered bunk beds.

I've not sorted through the 9 tons of clothes in my storage bins to locate outfits in 3 sizes to take with me for her when I go overseas.

I have not figured out her shoe situation.

I have not determined what I will take to the other kids at the orphanage or how I will prepare their little care packages.  I really want each child to have their own package if I can.

I have not printed off the paperwork I need Brian to sign so that I can take it with me to Africa.

I need to snap out of it.  I  literally look at myself in the mirror and tell myself that.  Unfortunately for me this time?  I don't have a GIGANTIC stomach staring back at me to press the point.  This time, in fact, I have a much smaller gut, less heartburn and fewer gall bladder attacks to deal with.  I also don't have the benefit of good pregnancy hair and nails.  I'm not getting up in the night 10 times to pee and when I shower, I don't break a sweat shaving my legs.  It is so much easier this time to just say, "Tomorrow."

I'm scared to make the list because I think I'd need a scroll the size of Santa's to write down everything.  Of course, if I don't make the list, I don't have a very realistic hold on what needs done and I'm not receiving the satisfaction of crossing junk off the list.  And, something about making the list says I'm confident we're passing court on the 20th, which I'm not, and I don't like to jinx myself.  You're talking to the girl who never sold her books back until after grades came out...just in case.

And, unlike the last two times I became a mom, I don't have a similarly situated parent of the male variety asking me just when it is I think I'll get my act together.  It's a lot easier to ignore the admonishments when they are in print and much easier to assure someone you're on it when you're IM'ing them.

So, yeah.  I need to get myself in gear.  The Momtourage, Mo & Kim, already told me they will take me to the travel nurse if I don't go myself in the next few days.  I know they are serious.  How embarrassing would that be?  "Oh, yes.  These are my friends who drove me here and escorted me in because I've known I need to do this for the past year and I'm only NOW doing it right before I definitely need it."  GAH!

Okay.  To bed. 

Maybe I can talk myself into make a list tomorrow?  I'll use the endorphin rush from my run to get started.  Perhaps I'll start a fresh legal pad with the list and use a favorite pen too.  That might help.  You know how I love my office supplies!

Tired Mama

I'm thinking of breaking out my mini-recorder and mini cassettes and making tapes of myself saying the things I say no less than 100 times in a week.  This would be the Greatest Hits of Mom. 

Remember the K-Tel TV ads from back in the day?

Kids will revel in the dulcet tones of such favorite titles like, "Pick up your shoes before you trip on them and break your neck" and "You are not welcome in this house until that backseat is clean."  Who can forget the perennial favorite, "Why is all this stuff strewn around the yard?!  It looks like hobos live here."  This track comes with an explanation of hobos so you do not have to repeatedly explain that to the kiddies either.  And, with the bonus tracks of "Your jacket does not belong in the middle of the floor" and "Your teeth are janked; go brush", this album is a must have, #1 Billboard fave. 

Yeah.  It's been one of THOSE weekends.  So much done and then realizing how much more there is to do and that, for some reason, I have failed utterly to successfully enlist consistent help from the underlings.  Sadness.

Bad News?  Tomorrow is Monday.

Good News?  Monday is a running day.  And, Wednesday and Thursday are early dismissal days for us with Friday being a day off.  Have to love those teacher conference days!  I think by this coming weekend, my house will be a little more in order and I will feel less like I'm flying by the seat of my pants.  Not counting on it, but it could happen.  However, I think the fact that I am mere months away from adding another child to the mix plus creating physical space for her at the house is enough to send me right back into pants/seat flying mode.  I'd like to think I'm a good pilot, but not so sure.

In less housework related news, I've created a playlist in iTunes that will be a rotating mix of songs for running.  Right now, the following songs are in this playlist:

Work It (Remix) -- Missy Elliott and Fiddy

The Distance -- Cake (former law school final psych up song)

The Next Episode -- Snoop & Dre

Encore -- JayZ

Kickstart My Heart -- Motley Crue

Pump It -- Black Eyed Peas

It's My Life -- Bon Jovi

Kids Wanna Rock -- Bryan Adams

Candyman -- Christian Aguilera

Drop It Like It's Hot -- Snoop

Pump It -- Black Eyed Peas

Yes, Pump It is on my playlist twice.  It's a good song to run to and to reset any pace issues I may be having.  Plus, if I feel like I'm dragging, it just gets my feet moving faster.

I should probably see about going to bed or I might have a hard time convincing myself to strap on the tennies in the morning.

Night Out

Tonight I attended my law school's 35th anniversary celebration. 

Other than the group I went with being seated at separate tables, it was a good night.  We had fun, the food was good and there was wine.  What else could a person want?  I mean, how could you NOT enjoy being in a huge room full of attorneys, most of whom interviewed you and denied you employment.  BARRELS of fun.  But, again, there was wine so it balanced out nicely.

I'm looking forward to seeing the photos my friends took of all of us together.  I had M1 snap a couple of me  when we arrived home because I know Hubs would want to see the new dress. 

Sometimes he can't open photos in his e-mail because of how slow his internet connection is there. 

He can, however, usually open this blog without an issue, so indulge me while I post one of the pics M1 took.

This is about the only place in the whole house (my upstairs hallway) that has decent lighting.  On the one end of the hall is Hubs' closet door that has a mirror on the front.  I couldn't very well stand in front of it, so I hobbled (my feet hurt!) to the other end of the hall to stand by the broom closet/pantry door. 

Unfortunately, M1 had been rummaging in the closet before the photo and some of our stray cleaning supplies ended up in the photo.  It was after 10:30 at this point, though, so I didn't want to make her stay up any later to snap photos of Mommy in her new dress.  I'm sure that would be frowned upon by the county or some such.

M2 and M1 had fun at our friends' house tonight.  The couple has a little boy who is 4 and who is completely enthralled with everything about M2.  I guess every five minutes today he asked his mommy if M2 were there yet and when we pulled in, he literally jumped up and down, ran to her, said "HI!" and then wrapped his arms around her.  He is one of the happiest little guys I've ever met.  He will tell you what is on his mind and usually it's something wonderful like, "I love you!"

I'm wiped.  I have a lot of laundry and housework to do tomorrow so I'm hitting the hay.  Hubs has a cold and is trying to let Nyquil work its magic so he's not up to IM with me tonight.

Weird.

This is me.

I took this photo via my Mac last night to change my profile photo and to show off my new haircut.

What I quickly realized after I took the photo kind of surprised me.

I don't really have a double chin when I smile right now.

I think I'd gotten so used to seeing and hating it that I didn't even realize it wasn't glommed onto the underside of my jaw.

Is it possible that a person who looks in the mirror occasionally would not have noticed that one of the things that drove her most nuts about her face is shrinking?

I guess so because it took people commenting on it on Facebook for me to even notice.  I didn't even believe my husband's comments when he e-mailed them because, well, guys will say things when they've not laid eyes (or other things) on you in almost five months.

The body shape is still odd.

Most of my pants hang on me and/or fall off and yet, I can't always wear the next size down.  And, some of my pants that are the 'current' size fit or are snug.  It's maddening.  My favorite pair of sable brown pants--WAY too big.  A same sized pair of plum pants that are the bottom of a bitchin' suit--still not fitting.  ARGH.

So, I decided that I would wear something from my closet for this law school anniversary gala tomorrow night.  I thought with about 3 sizes worth of dresses in there, I'd be golden.  Then, the girls and I went to the mall to purchase some new Nikes for M2 and I decided to try on some dresses I saw in JC Penney last weekend.

One dress I liked was only in a size less than what I normally wear.  It fit great except that it had a side zipper that ran from hip to arm pit.  I don't know WHAT it is about my rib cage, but darned if it has not prevented more than one nice dress from zipping completely when the zipper is on the side.  I'd like to think it's my chest size, but it really is my rib cage.

The store associate was nice enough to call a mall about 15 miles up the road and they located the dress in my usual size.  That store held it for me.  I drove up to get it and tried it on just to be safe.  It zipped right up.

Hated it.

It was all wonky and didn't fit right.  It was baggy and bunchy in all the wrong places.  Gross!

What the heck!?

DISAPPOINTED.

Then, as we went to leave, M1 saw a really beautiful black dress.  I flipped through the hangers only to see that they had none in my usual size.  They only had ones one size down. 

Oh, well.  I'm already here.  I took it in the fitting room, tried it on.  It fit.

Huh.

What do you know?

This is way weird.

Way.

A Matter of Raising

Today, I was shocked and saddened to hear the news of the mass shooting at Ft. Hood.  No surprise that the brave men and women in uniform responded to the threat and, even in a 'gun free zone', brought down the shooter, wounding him. 

I know, for a fact, those men and women were raised right.  I'm married to one and I will tell you, you will not find a finer man than mine.  Handsome, good kisser, strong hands and a patriot's heart.  Willing to go to the ends of the earth to take the fight to our enemies, all the while missing out on his family's life and having to listen to others talk smack about him and his choice to serve.

Doesn't faze him.  Know why?  Because he was raised right.

The cowardly individual who decided that rather than swallow his own gun, he'd go ahead and ruin nearly 50 lives and then some?  Evidently not raised all that well.  How someone can rise through the ranks, enjoy the benefits of the Army, never been deployed to a war zone and now, when facing deployment, he decides he doesn't want to go.  And, rather than follow the protocol and perhaps be forced to live up to his obligations, he decides he will try to buy himself out of his contract.  Doesn't work like that.  Sorry.

But today, by far, the award for not being raised properly goes to our Commander in Chief. 

FINALLY.  A prize he actually earned.

I was glued to the television this afternoon and when the news anchor said we were waiting to hear from the President, I'll admit I was skeptical.  I wondered what he would say and how he would say it.  I'd hoped whatever he said would be meaningful and heartfelt for those families' sakes.  And maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to do right by them.

Nope.

When they went to the live feed from the President, even I could not have anticipated the epic FAIL that awaited.  If you didn't see it live, I've provided it for you.  You don't need to watch the entire thing.  Only the first two minutes and twenty-four seconds.  The rest, his 'solemn' what not, will be the sound bite you see on TV.

Yes, you can believe your eyes.  The President of the United States chose to chuckle, jack jaw and give 'shout outs' to his peeps while the nation waited with bated breath to hear his words of comfort and resolve for our military families at Ft. Hood.

This, my gentle readers, is the product of a piss poor raising. 

Oh, sure.  President Obama was well educated.  He also has a cadre of individuals who find him charming (not smarmy), intelligent (not abysmally narrow), affable (not elitist) and Presidential (not an immature ass).  However, it is entirely possible to a graduate of Harvard law and still not be a product of a good raising.

It is quite apparent to me that our President did not experience a parent or mentor ever telling him the truth.

You are not all that.  You are not special.  You need to work your ass off to earn respect.  You need a good dose of shame and humility to make it in this world lest you become too full of yourself and run roughshod over people. 

He also, apparently, thought he was too smart to pay attention in his basic speech class in college.  Crafting a message is more than pretty platitudes and fancy visual aids.  You need to have an appropriate message for your audience.

When you're told, "Mr. President, the networks are going live" based upon a tragedy, you need to come off the page and tell your audience, "I was here for this purpose, but a tragedy has occurred that I must address."  Or, better yet, give something this horrific the attention it deserves and hold a separate press conference in, perhaps, an empty room where you don't feel the need to show your ass and act like Mr. Popularity.

What a disgrace.  An utter disgrace.

Had my foot been able to go through my TV today...

So, for those who constantly praise their children and try to create a sense of entitlement and uber specialness in them--STOP IT.  You will reap what you sow.  If we're lucky, you and your family will be the only ones putting up with the monster you make.  Unfortunately for our nation now, we're dealing with one family's failure on a nationwide scale.

And, I refuse to silently watch this mess without saying so.

Cleaning Up My Act

I've waited as long as I could.  Tomorrow, my hair stylist will work her magic, restoring me to the color God gave me and giving me a sassy cut.  I need it.  I think if I look a little more put together, I will feel a little more put together and before you know it, my entire universe will be organized, cataloged alphabetically and all the trains will run on time.

Well.  Okay, let's not go that far, but at least when I'm sucking at life, I'll look good doing it.

I also scheduled a manicure for Saturday afternoon as my hands are so dry and awful looking, I want to wear gloves 24/7.  This cold air and all the hand sanitizer are really taking a toll. 

Saturday night, I'm attending a gala to celebrate the 35th anniversary of my law school.  I'm going with lawbrary folks and will be charting the entire event so I can share with those who didn't come who wore what, who said what and how much wine it took before someone (I hope not me) makes an ass of themselves.  It should be fun as two charter members of my Momtourage will be at my table.  We'll probably need to refrain from raising a ruckus.

I need two things for Saturday--a sitter and a dress.  I'm sure I have a suitable dress in my closet.  Pretty sure I won't find a sitter in there, but I'll double check.  It's been awhile since I've looked all the way in the back of my closet and it's possible a babysitter is residing there.  I also may need shoes.  I'm pretty sure my black heels were left at the last hotel where I'd worn them for an event.  They were extremely uncomfortable and I knew if I took them home, I'd wear them again.  So, I left them at the hotel.  I did the same thing in Bulgaria.  Darn pinchy shoes.

I cannot believe it's November 4th, almost 5th.  That puts us a little over two weeks away from our November 20th court date.  Did I tell you our date was erroneously reported to our agency at first?  It's no longer November 18th, but now November 20th.  I have a friend whose date is four days prior and another friend whose date is four days after ours.  Will be an exciting couple of weeks!

I need to hit the hay so I can hit the streets or the treadmill tomorrow.  Either way, there will be running.

Election Day

I'm a politics geek.  One of my very favorite nights of being a radio news reporter was election night.  Being downtown, running the streets in heels to catch candidates, filing live reports, hanging with other reporters--it was the shizz.

I voted today as I have in every election since I turned 18.  I love Election Day and the fun of watching the returns come in.  Granted, last year I went to bed trying not to vomit, but this year, I'm good.  I can't believe an entire year has passed.

It will be interesting to see how things shake out in our state.

Looks like our library levy will pass.

Also looks like the voters overwhelmingly approved a bonus of up to $1,000 for veterans of the Perisan Gulf, Iraq and Afghanistan.  Not gonna lie--I voted yes for that one.  After the week I've had, it would be nice to see of my tax money going into the pockets of families living the dream like we are.  Ahem.

I need to go to bed now.

I ran today and it was not easy.  However, I was shocked that I could run all the way out of our neighborhood.  A two-mile route down and back.  Amazing.  Relatively flat, thank goodness.

I'm going to either need to take up yoga or start drinking chamomile tea.  I cannot think about the adoption and remaining to-do list without hyperventilating.  I'm sure a complete come apart is on the horizon and then I'll pick myself up and drive on.  Like usual.

For now?

I'm going to go upstairs and curl up with my snotty-nosed youngest daughter and sleep.  She insisted on sleeping in my bed because her day was "horrible" and darned if I just don't have it in my to fight her tonight.

Whoa! Watch for the Wah-mbulance

What a difference a few hours (and a quick transfer of money) can make.  It looks (insert crossed fingers here) as if my quick transfer of money yesterday may be beat the debits from my account that would have overdrawn it.  I called the bank to see if their magical computers could see the incoming fees, but "Tyler" couldn't.  I asked Tyler if it's possible I beat the overdraft and he said that because things don't post over the weekend, it's quite possible I did.

Can you believe that?

Additionally, the international adoption center had called this morning, apologizing profusely, admitting the late debit had been an error, and offering to refund up to 1/2 my fee to cover all the overdraft charges.

I called them, apologized for being blunt, thanked them for being so forthright in calling and offering to help, and then assuaging their guilt by relating the contents of my conversation with my bank's customer service line. 

And, the peasants rejoiced.

I have a ton of stuff to do today and very little motivation.  Guess I should get started on my list!

It's Always Something

I love when I pay a bill in a way that I think will be most financially sound only to have it bite me in the pants.  The latest example?  I secured the services of the International Adoption Clinic at a nearby Children's Hospital.  The cost to do so?  $500.  To avoid interest payments, etc., I used my debit card over the phone with the representative to pay the bill.  I didn't want it on a credit card and I didn't want to wait for a check to be sent to start the process.  I did this on September 2nd.  I received the materials, the consultation, etc. and a receipt for the $500 payment dated September 2nd.

I'm not sure why I never thought to check and triple check that the debit had cleared the account.  I think because I had that receipt, I was lulled into thinking I was in the clear.

Nope.

That debit went through on Friday.

I last checked my account on Thursday and knew I had close to $700 in my account.  No need to move money over, I thought, because I'll probably only have to spend a couple hundred dollars to take me through the weekend.

This would have been the case had the $500 debit not been charged.  So, yeah.  Overdrawn and NOT happy about it.  Thinking that interest and finance charges on a credit card will be a walk through the park compared to the bank's charges on my transactions.  And, because I used my debit card rather than cash this weekend, I could pay more of a fee for an overdraft than the transaction itself.  BURNS ME UP!

This has been a long weekend.  I did a ton of running around and did very little work around the house or grading--both of which I needed to do.  I looked forward to this weekend ALL WEEK because I knew there would be some kid free time and I thought I could do something to put this house in order.  I seriously underestimate the time involved in shuttling kids to and fro. 

I also am running out of time to apply for adoption grants.  Once we got the home equity line of credit, I knew we could afford the adoption.  I filled out the applications as far as I could (many require information that comes with a referral) and then life took off again.  Hubs has asked me a couple times whether any of the grants have come through and every time, I tell him I haven't even applied.  I feel badly, but then again, these are supposed to be filled out by the PARENTS, not just the mom.  So, I have to dry lab his answers, write my own, copy copious pieces of paperwork, assemble the packets...see where I'm going?  I don't have TIME to do ANY of this and it's another thing weighing on me. 

I'm doing the best I can, but it's never good enough for anyone.  Everyone always wonders what you're doing or why you didn't do this or how you could have forgotten that.

I can't speak for everyone, but I can for me--I never set out to be a single parent.  I know my limits.  I, honestly, don't know anyone who could work, be actively involved in her kids' school, run her kids to activities, handle dental nightmares and routine health care, take care of two dogs, effect the adoption of a child in less than one year, have clean underwear in her lingerie drawer and an ounce of sanity in her head.

I wish I were the kind of girl who could look at all the plates she has spinning and think, "Wow.  I'm doing the best I can and that's great."

I'm not.

I pay zero attention to those spinning plates and look around at ALL the things that also need done that aren't being done and kick myself for not being able to do them.  I'm not a super woman with infinite energy and time on my hands.  It isn't like I sit around doing nothing or that I'm ever at a loss for things to do.  If I sit around making up answers to my husband's questions for a grant application, someone's dinner isn't being made, bills aren't being paid, essays aren't being graded...you get the point.

Anyway.

I just think it's a shame that with all the technology in the world, we can't create a portal for those on the outside looking in so they could get the full force of what happens here.  Maybe people would understand why my head pounds 5 out of seven days, I have gastrointestinal problems and my hair is turning as white as a sheet. 

Until then, I'll just keep chugging on feeling woefully inadequate and trying to reach that magic date on the calendar when I can tell the Army to get the hell out of my house and leave me the hell alone.