How it feels

I have been emotional lately. Almost like a real girl. It is like PMS 24x7...I think. I don't really ever get PMS. Please stop giving me the evil eye - it isn't my fault. However lately, since "the job incident", I have been just on the edge of, oh - I don't know... losing my shit? I am touchy. I am on edge. I am ever-so-slightly-unstable way down at the inner core of my being. I don't even know that anyone else notices it - but I do. I don't feel the same cocky confidence that I seem to achieve so easily. My "work personality" is a bit shattered and I am left with the insecure INTJ type of person that I am inside, just oozing out of my seams. And you know what? I am not fond of this situation.

I feel for all of the people out of jobs in the country, in the world. I hope I have been helpful when people have needed me, because there are some very gracious, wonderful people helping me, and if it were not for them, I would lose my patience, and possibly my mind. Dan, Susan, Dennis, Mike, Davey, Laurie, Terry, Bebe, Rey, Roseanne, Janna, Kate, Erin, Dennis, Marietta, Chris, Aine, Pam, Jason and Lauren - and those I have forgotten - thank you, all of you for being my friend and just being there. It means a lot.

However...it only does so much, and I have to admit I didn't understand what people were going through in the past when they were let go (when I LET THEM GO... OH GOD), when they were without jobs. It is so taxing, and your ego takes a hit. Mine did anyway. I am a strong, successful business person. I make (made) an insane amount of money. I really thought I was invincible, and well, look at this - not so true. Now, just like all of those other people I have known, I have to get up, find a job, and heal myself.


We register the boys for Kindergarten tomorrow.

I have been looking at that first line for about 30 minutes now in utter horror. My last two children are starting kindergarten, and it is truly blowing my mind. I can remember Cassie and Brittany both entering school like it was yesterday. It feels like the boys were born merely a year or two ago. How do the months fly by so fast? Where do the years go?

I don't write here much anymore. I think there are several reasons - the main one being time. I had been buried in a new job for the past 6 months and have tried to spend as much time on it as I could. I have also been trying to spend more time with Todd and the boys. On some level, I must realize where the time goes and I want to savor the time and not miss so much. And of course, Facebook is much easier to update than having to plan what to write and then be able to articulate in a fashion that doesn't make me sound like an uneducated sloth. On Facebook - one-liners are fine. Sloth writing abounds.

I would like to write about the loss of above mentioned job, however I am not ready to go there yet. So for now I will simply try to write - maybe just a few slothful sentences every day. Perhaps I will begin to share more...perhaps not.



At first you don't even notice anything is different. Things float along like they always have with an occasional hiccup, which you dismiss as a normal annoying occurrence of life. After all, things go wonky for all of us every now and then, right?

Then the annoying occurrences seem to increase, or they annoy you more - you are not sure which. You begin blaming yourself. You feel like your expectations are too high. Perhaps you are stressed out. Maybe things have always been like this and only now they are starting to bother you.

You finally accept that the person has a problem. They are forgetting things, making bad decisions, taking longer to do absolutely everything. While you suspect Alzheimer's, you keep telling yourself you are over-reacting.

Eventually you get the official diagnosis - Alzheimer's it is. And at that point things seem to take a dramatic turn for the worse. Their behavior gets markedly worse. They forget the strangest things (where they live, how to get to the store, where the pharmacy is). You spend every moment they are gone wondering if they will make it back. You spend hours looking for them, guiding them back home. You all try not to mention the actual word, yet you all know what is happening.

We are now in stage...Next. The diagnosis is in. We understand what we are dealing with. We have taken away her car. We help her get dressed, make sure she eats, buy everything for her, give her all medication, make sure her dog gets fed. We have to give her 2 hours to get ready to go pretty much anywhere, and assume we will be late anyway. It is still manageable...but we are approaching the end of being able to do this ourselves.

I try to be positive. I assure her that I enjoy helping her, that I want to make things easier for her. And while that is very true, because I love her dearly, part of me is fighting this new stage. I don't want to take care of a parent. I don't want to be caregiver to yet another person. I don't want everything to be put on hold while we deal with this latest crisis. I know it is selfish, and I try to push those thoughts out of my head...yet there they are.