(And yes, I know I owe you a double batch of Fab Friday Five...quit crying about it!)
Now that the formalities are over with, lets get down to business.
I'm apparently a lot more stressed out about Dave's impending CT results than I realized.
I don't think I've ever, in my entire life, had a recurring dream. I've had dreams that are similar, but never would I consider them the same. Last week, however, I had three dreams with only minimal differences all in the same night. In this dream, my car had been stolen (the car was a different color in all three dreams; it was dark green in one and that's the only one I remember) with my phone still in it, so Dave and I had hopped into his car, turned on the "find my iphone" app and tracked the location of my phone. When we got to where the location of my phone was, it was night time, and we were at some sort of warehouse/parking lot/junk yard area. Dave got out and I stayed in the car (because I'm a wuss). He was walking alongside the building, coming up on the corner, and he was looking both ways as he was walking. I (still alone in the car) looked up ahead at the corner of the building and I could see a man around the corner with a gun (the type of gun differed in the three dreams). Dave was getting closer, and all I wanted to do was scream at him and tell him "Look out! There's a man with a gun around the corner!" But I couldn't. I was supposed to sit in the car and be quiet and not draw any attention (because that would blow our cover, of course). As Dave approached the corner, he was looking to his right, then he stepped just past the corner, looked to his left, and was face-to-barrel with a gun. That's when I woke up. All three times.
Now, most people who know me know that I LOVE to decipher the hidden meaning of dreams. I fully believe that our dreams, no matter how random or seemingly simple they may be, are a direct reflection of something that's weighing on us. Anyway, the way I see it...there's something that's going on with Dave and I want to be able to help, but there's nothing I can do. I feel helpless. I couldn't tell Dave about the gun around the corner, and I can't do anything to help through this cancer. It's a horrible feeling. And I know Dave will probably read this and think "You think that's a horrible feeling, try actually having cancer" ... well I know honey, I'll never understand...but it's a horrible feeling to watch somebody you love go through it know that there's not a thing you can do to make it better.
Dave's appointment is on Friday. The plan: If results are good, go drinking at lunch. If results are bad, go drinking at lunch. Either way, we're covered!
I'm having a difficult time compartmentalizing lately.
I'm typically pretty good about not letting my worries and stresses effect me at work, but lately it's become apparent to me that I'm struggling with that and it is most definitely effecting (affecting? whatever) me. Last week, while getting units of blood out of the refrigerators to put on antigen stickers, I was startled and ended up dropping one. After having worked in the lab for 6 years, I officially dropped, and subsequently broke, my first unit of red blood cells. My super awesome coworkers ran to my aid (as they know that the sight and smell of blood makes me want to pass out) and quickly got everything cleaned up...all while I went and put myself in the corner and cried. All I could think of was "that was a donor's time laying there on the floor", "that's the company's money laying right there on the floor", and "that puddle of blood laying there on the floor could have saved somebody's life." And then somebody noticed that I had apparently gotten some on my shoe and was tracking it around the lab, so they had to stop and clean up my shoes, too (I'm still on the hunt for new shoes...every time I put on these shoes, I just think about blood). So there I am, with a puddle and splatter of blood on the floor, little blood footprints around the lab, and tears streaming down my face. It was absolutely humiliating. I know I startle easily, but I can't imagine what would have made me let go of that unit...I know better than that. The only thing I can think of is maybe I wasn't entirely in my task, mentally. I was thinking about other things instead. Stupid stress...stupid stupid stress.
We're having to live on a budget again and it's the pits.
This may end up coming off as kind of snooty, but I really don't mean it that way. For the last few years, we had grown accustomed to a certain way of life. We had money in the savings account, in both of our regular accounts, and our credit cards had less than $100 each on them. We were at a point where, even though I talked all the time about how we didn't have money for things, we really didn't have to worry too much about extraneous spending (as long as it was small things here and there, not anything crazy). Basically, we didn't have to penny pinch. We could just live.
Now, because Dave had only been sporadically working for four months, we're in a different situation. Our credit cards are both very high (as they were used for incidentals in between my paychecks), our savings account was almost entirely depleted, and our bank accounts only have what our most recent paycheck was, minus the several bills that were due on payday. I know....first world problems. But even still, in any situation, when you get set in certain ways...and then something drastic happens, it's difficult to adapt. It's been a very long time since we've had to live basically paycheck-to-paycheck. To be honest, when we finally started saving money, I thought we'd never have to live that way again. Yet, here we are. We'll get everything back to normal in a few months, I'm sure (of course, it all depends on the outcome of Dave's CT).
NOTE: In reading this back...it really did come off snooty. I'm terribly sorry about that!!
So on this Monday...this is what I'd really like:
I'd like to be able to go to 2nd and Charles and walk around and buy Aria a stack of books,
and maybe a few for me
I'd like to be able to be online booking a vacation for sometime around our anniversary
I'd like to be at home finally having some time to myself that I don't feel sick
so that I can finally take down the Christmas tree and put away the Christmas presents
I'd like to be able to go to Mexican Monday with my family instead of making taco salads
(on the cheap) at home for dinner
I'd like to be able to take the required time to clean out my car, get it washed, and maybe even detailed...
because it needs it REALLY bad
I'd like to be able to sit upstairs in the extra bedroom (currently our storage room) and clean it up, then go out and buy a small table and chairs so that Aria and I have craft space and I have somewhere to do puzzles...real puzzles, not just on the iPad
I'd like to take the time to sit up in Aria's room and finally go through all of her clothes and put away the ones that are too small so that I don't keep grabbing the pair of 3T pants that are still in her basket
I wish I had the drive, the energy, and the clean space required for baking...I could really use some good, cathartic, baking time (and of course I also need money for ingredients)
I'd sort of like to be one of those lucky college students who only spends 2 hours a day in class and has no real-life expenditures so that I could sit at home all day reading, or doing something artsy, or learning to cook, or just binge-watching everything on my DVR so that I could finally try out half of those shows that started last Fall that we haven't even watched the pilot episode
I'd like to be able to just be less stressed and get a little happier
Happy Monday, y'all!
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