Chop Chop

*dances a jig*

Woot! This weekend I forced myself to stay on task and complete a major edit of WiP#1. I decided to expand parts 1 and 3, which meant I had to really cut back part 2 to keep it under 100,000 words. I managed to cut about 8,000 words, which really gives me some good flexibility.

Now I can move on to part 3 which has been on my mind anyway. =D

Stress Relief

Sometimes things just build up, and they have to come out. It seems like I went through an episode like this a few months ago. If I wasn't menopausal I'd think it was hormonal.

I feel very much at times that I'm stuck on a treadmill that I can never get off yet is taking me nowhere. Then when I think about the feelings, they make me seem selfish and whiny.

I was feeling particularly sorry for myself today. My hubby has health conditions that limit his activity level and energy. I accept that and sympathize and support him in enduring for the last twenty years. But sometimes it just seems like that's an excuse for not doing what he doesn't want to do. I can even deal with that until it starts to get in the way, until I feel claustrophobic in my own home, unable to live as I'm living but unable to change it.

That's how I was feeling this afternoon after a little disagreement at home (see, if I say something is bothering me, then I'm not supportive and don't say nice things). This makes me feel emotionally manipulated. Yet there are time when I'm not feeling supportive and don't always say nice things (and keep in mind that he's ultra sensitive, so simply stating a fact can be not saying nice things). I can't help but question my feelings and wonder if I'm just having a bad day and being unfair.

What kills me is not being able to say how I feel, not having the chance to make it better. I've learned after over 25 years, it's a wasted effort. So I just have to swallow my feelings or find relief somewhere else.

I'm frustrated because I feel like my life is ebbing away. I'll be 56 this month, and there's so much I want to be able to do before I physically can't do it anymore. Things like biking down Provo Canyon or hiking up to Stewart Falls at Sundance. Ed's not up to that. He also only wants to do things with me. So if he can't do an activity, but I can't do it alone, it means I can't do it or offend him by going by myself.

These frustrations led me up Provo Canyon this afternoon with all my windows open, the sunroof cranked back, and my stereo blasting. The fall colors are coming on. The fall is my favorite season, and every year that I can I like to go up to Sundance to take the ski lift up to view the fall colors. It's a little early for that yet. It'll be incredible in 2-3 weeks, and if the weather permits it's one event that Ed can come with me on.

I was going to go to the library, but I drove to Sundance instead, parked the car, and took my laptop and started walking.


As always I'm struck by the beauty of Mt. Timpanogos. I love the "front" side, but the "back" grabs me as well with its never-melting glacier (you can make it out on the left).





I love the sound of running water from the stream and the smell of the pine trees.





I found myself a shady spot under an aspen tree on the edge of the pond, pulled out my laptop, and continued editing WiP#1. And I felt the beauty around me provide me with the stress relief I so desperately needed.


I wasn't ready to go back home yet, so I'm at the library. I didn't realize they had WiFi, so I'm posting here and then I'll get back to my WiP.

ETA--See, as I was having my pity party on this anniversary of September 11th, I read a link Donna H. posted. I have to share.

Everything's relative.

Meg Cabot on the 9th anniversary of 9/11.

Day of Caring

Several people from our office participated in United Way's Day of Caring this morning. We worked at a home that had belonged to an elderly person who was not able to maintain it. It's a cute little house on a fairly large lot that's probably large enough to be subdivided.

A large portion of the lot must have once been a garden (I could see what must have once been gardening rows). It was full of fruit trees (that needed trimming) and raspberry bushes (that tried to kill us). It could really be a lovely play area if it was tilled and planted with grass. Great place for children to run and play. Mature trees give it lots of shade

Besides a large number of city employees who came to help there were people from several local businesses. It was amazing how much work all these willing hand were able to get done in such a short period of time.

Kudos to all those people who came out today and helped.

(The picture above is not from our group. If I can get hold of one I will post it.)

Messing Around

Okay, I'm going to take Donna's suggestion to heart and start out by messing around with the title to my blog. Don't get too confused by the ever changing titles. I guess it'll be like shopping for clothing. I'll try one on to see how it fits and if(when) I don't like it, I'll change it back.

They'll be lame, I guarantee it.

Titles

I attended a blog party this weekend (I'd never heard of these before, but what a fun idea--and what I would expect from Donna Hosie anyway, clever girl she is--plus being the hostess with the mostest). Something struck me as I was checking out all these interesting literary (mostly) blogs.

Titles.

As I spent quite a bit of Saturday working through a major rewrite of my WiP#1, it was particularly on my mind. You see, for the life of me, I cannot think of a title for it. WiP#2 had a title at conception, but not #1. My situation reminds me of the parents who cannot agree on a name for a new baby and call the child "Baby" for six months. I can't figure out the appropriate name for my baby (which I've been calling My Story for nine months--I know, even my holding name is pathetic).

With that on my mind I happened to open my blog this afternoon and saw my stunningly clever blog title (or not). Perhaps my problem goes deeper than the tale. Perhaps it's what we called when I was in the Army "Operator Headspace." (We didn't use it to refer to pilot error but rather the lack of brain in the headspace.)

I really should rename this blog. I wonder if I should call it "Baby."

*sigh*

Bad Day

On a lighter note ...

There I was sitting at the bar staring at my drink when a large, trouble-making biker steps up next to me, grabs my drink and gulps it down in one swig.

"Well, whatcha gonna do about it?" he says, menacingly, as I burst into tears.

"Come on, man," the biker says, "I didn't think you'd CRY. I can’t stand to see a man crying."

"This is the worst day of my life," I say. "I'm a complete failure. I was late to a meeting and my boss fired me. When I went to the parking lot, I found my car had been stolen & I don't have any insurance. I left my wallet in the cab I took home. I found my old lady in bed with the gardener and then my dog bit me. So I came to this bar to work up the courage to put an end to it all, I buy a drink, I drop a capsule in and sit here watching the poison dissolve; then you show up and drink the whole thing! But enough about me. How's your day going?"

Cells

I found out something very interesting today when I went for my (kinda) two week after lasik visit. Seems that when they cut that flap that cells can sometimes get up underneath it. Sometimes it's no big deal because the cells are off to the side and just sit there. No problem because they're not in the way of your vision.

However, sometimes the cells are closer to the middle of the cornea... and they start to grow. What this means is they have to lift the flap again and remove the cells before they can cause problems with your vision.

Anybody want to guess which scenario is mine? I won't know until the surgeon examines my eye tomorrow if I'll have to have them removed, but the Ophthalmologist is concerned that my right eye's vision isn't better (it's not bad, but not what they'd like to see at this point). The vision in my left (reading) eye is fabulous.

So they might be lifting my flap again tomorrow afternoon.

Joy.