A posting hiatus

I've been on a bit of a posting hiatus. No reason really. I was really busy at work and then had a friend in town. My friend is gone now.

I'm in one of those weird places. That I don't know how to describe. Trying to figure it all out I guess. Not that long ago, someone said to me - maybe getting over it means accepting that you aren't going to get over it. Or it was something like that. That was the idea. But see, I really want to get over this one thing and accepting that I'm not going to is not going to be sufficient. It is a someone actually, not a something and I'm not sure what to do about it. So, I've just been thinking about it instead of posting.

A story not about a dress

I've asked a lot of people over the years how certain you have to be to marry someone. Do you have to be 100% sure, or is it something less than that? I've found that everyone tolerates a different level of uncertainty, but I'm not sure you ever get to 100%. I didn't. I wasn't 100% sure that should marry him, but I also wasn't 100% sure that I shouldn't. But I had to make a choice, so I made the one that I thought would be the easiest to live with. Years later I know only that I may not be someone who ever gets to 100% with anyone, and the person I wanted to be with the most is someone else, and I'm not with him.

So the story goes, and brace yourself, it takes a long while to get to the point (maybe go get a snack actually) - and by the way, this isn't really a story about a dress - it's more like the story of my life and all of my relationships, but we don't have time for that - so, I'll have to limit it, and probably I should edit this, because it's been sitting here for days, but I don't feel like it - so, here you go. All my life I wanted to have children and I was always sure that I would. I suppose because I was trained to believe that life works out that way, and why shouldn't it? Why shouldn't you believe that you can have something you want. You want something, you get it. Not so. Turns out that I have a lot in my life, and I have many of the things that I wanted and I've been very successful in my career, but the one thing I've wanted the most, has always eluded me.

And then there was a time in my life when I thought my career might matter more than a family. And there was a moment when I thought I could have both the career that I wanted and the family. There was definitely a point at the beginning of my career when I went from wanting children to feeling uncertain about it. I felt like I would want children someday but not any time soon, because I really wanted that career that I was working so hard for and paying so much money for. And there were also moments when I really thought I could picture a life without any children in it. Well, what I have today is the career and none of the other things, not the husband, not even a boyfriend, and not the family.

So I met someone and was engaged to be married at 25. There was fighting about money, among other things. But in the end it came down to just one thing, just one insurmountable thing. All along we felt similarly undecided about having children - like we might want them, but not soon and I had every intention of having a career that I wouldn't give up when we did. And I was okay with the uncertainty because there was a part of me that could picture a life without them - I honestly didn't know how I would feel in the years to come. But he was older than me and one day, before that day in April that we were supposed to be married on, he just decided that he didn't want to have children at all.

And in the conversation that would be the beginning of the end, what he told me was that he decided he didn't want children, but that he was *willing* to have them if I really wanted to. There were some other things said about it. And when he said those things, all I could think about was that kid that I was going to one day bring into the world, knowing that its father didn't really want it and would probably resent both of us for it. And for right or wrong, all I could see after that was impending unhappiness and an impossible situation.

The fighting about money and having children, among other things, continued. It got ugly even. He had some unfounded fears about money because I didn't have a job lined up and things seemed somewhat uncertain with the bad job market at the time, and at one point he even accused me of taking advantage of him for his money. Well, all I have to say about that is that I do more than quite well for myself financially, thank you very much. For me, it never had anything to do with the money and I was obviously quite capable of supporting myself. But accusations were made and things were said that were uncalled for and maybe unforgivable. We went around and around about all of the issues and we always came back to the one thing that he said I should just let go of and I couldn't - the issue of having children.

In the end I walked away for one reason only, not because I knew I wanted children, but because I didn't know if I didn't want them. I walked away on a maybe, something completely uncertain - because I knew that I couldn't have children with someone who didn't really truly want them, which meant that I couldn't have children with him, and at that time in my life, at the age of 25, I was unprepared to make that choice. It was really that simple, I couldn't make a choice like that and feel comfortable with it at the time. All of the other issues I would have tried to work through. I would have held my ground and compromised and figured it out. But there was no room to give on this one. I just couldn't give in. Never did I think that what I might one day want would not be a possibility for me. I thought I would find the right person, have my career and have my family - if that's what I wanted. Sometimes I wish someone would have spent more time talking to me about reality, and less time making me believe in the possibility of having everything. Never did I think that I would be sitting here right now, this many years later, alone and still surrounded by uncertainty. And yes of course, I know what you are thinking. You are thinking - but you are only 30 (very nearly 31), you have so much time left to find someone and have children.

However, there is irony in the fact that I walked away from him for that reason - for the reason that I might someday, many days and even years from that day, decide I wanted/was ready to have children. Because on my 29th birthday when I was diagnosed with breast cancer and told that I would have to take chemo drugs - I was also told that those drugs, that would hopefully save my life, that would hopefully ensure me a long life (that long life, during which I could accomplish and have anything I wanted), could quite possibly leave me infertile. I realized in that moment, the way you can only realize exactly what something meant to you in the instant it's gone - just how I felt about having children. I wanted them. And I wanted them to be my own biological children.

I wanted them desperately enough that I tried every which way I could think of to bargain with God in exchange for my fertility. There was a moment, when if I had had a choice - I might have felt willing to give up my life, or part of my life, just to keep my fertility. Could I have not taken chemo drugs and risked my life, just to make sure I stayed fertile? And in that exact same moment when what I wanted really became clear for the first time - the possibility was gone, or so it seemed, all in an instant. I might have walked away from him for nothing after all. Or maybe I walked away from what would be my only opportunity.

As it turns out, I walked away from the only person I've ever dated who treated me well. All of my other relationships - both before and after have been bad and dysfunctional to varying degrees, including abusive (but that was before and a long time ago). I have no doubt that we were both to blame. And I also know that there was much more going on than whether to have children - but I didn't know then what I know now about myself, or life even. I was 22 when I met him and 25 when I walked away from him. And since then I've dated several people, made a successful career for myself, stopped drinking and gone to AA, survived breast cancer, and married and divorced someone else in the process of surviving cancer, because I believed that no would ever want me again because of it. Anyway, I'm a completely different person than I used to be, because well, you can't go through what I went through and be the same.

Four months after I finished taking chemo drugs, my period started. I dropped to my knees and started thanking God. I'm probably the only person who thanks God every time my period starts. I am lucky. In all likelihood I am still fertile, but we have not done any testing to confirm it. I believe that I am, but I guess I don't actually know, because they have warned me that it is possible to have your period come back and not be fertile (but not that likely). I've gone back and forth about whether to verify it.

But here's the thing - all they know when you are lucky enough to have your fertility come back, is that you won't be fertile for as long as you would have been. They can't tell you for how long you will be, they just tell you not to wait to have children. They tell you to have them as soon as you can, but definitely don't wait for too long. They tell you that you should assume that you will go through menopause 10 years earlier than your mother did. My mother went through menopause very young and by that calculation, I'm almost already out of time.

And the thing is, I don't have anyone to have children with and the more time passes, the less likely it seems that I will find someone in time. I don't want to settle for someone just to have children and I don't feel up for having relationship after relationship to try to find him, so I've stopped bothering to try because I've failed at it repeatedly. I have a friend who waited to find the right man, and when she eventually did find him, it was too late. And I know what you are thinking - and I've given a lot of thought to that - to whether I would just get a sperm donor and have children alone if I don't find someone in the next couple of years, just to make sure that I get to, but I've pretty much decided that I don't think I will. The reason why is another post. And yes, I know, you think I am hanging far too much on this one issue and giving it far too much importance in my world. I know you think that.

I walked away from my ex-fiance largely because I believed that something more was possible, something more amazing, that I could be happier, that he could be happier with someone else and that we would be unhappy together, even though it was the only good relationship I've ever had. But what I didn't know at the time, that I know now, was that my happiness and unhappiness had nothing to do with him, and that I would be unhappy regardless, with or without him. That I would continue to search and never find what I was looking for. That I would suffer more than I ever thought possible. That what I had walked away in the hopes of finding - it wasn't to be mine anyway.

Did I make a right choice? Probably, at the time. Do I think we could have been happy? Probably, but I don't really know. How do I feel about it now, knowing what I know? It doesn't really matter, does it? Don't ask me about the person I most wanted to be with, because that's a story I'm not going to tell. And there is one tiny (huge) and pertinent detail of the story that I'm leaving out, but that's because I feel like I can't talk about it here without being judged horribly. It seems that as the years go by, I understand less and less why I made the choice I did and what I was so afraid of. And it's painfully clear that it was very much a choice based on nothing but fear, like all of the choices that I made in my life up until about a year ago. The choice to marry him or not marry him were both fear based, and so I made the choice I made because I couldn't make the other choice and it was really that simple, and I promised myself that no matter what, I would not regret it. And I don't, but I have come to regret many other things in the process of questioning that decision.

I have stopped believing that anything is possible and that the thing that I thought I was once looking for exists. I don't think it does. Or it doesn't for me anyway. Much of my disappointment in life stems from the fact that I had expectations about the way I thought it should be or the way I wanted it to be, and they haven't been met. And I'm learning not have to those expectations anymore because if you don't expect anything, then you aren't disappointed.

The one thing that I've wanted the most in life, has eluded me, like I said. And that thing is a healthy and right relationship. Regardless of how it all turns out, the one thing that I do know is that whatever I used to believe to be true about love, I don't believe in anymore.

What he said made me pause

I went to a meeting last night and the speaker said something that stopped me, it stopped the chatter in my head, for more than a few minutes. It seems like frequently you go to a meeting and you hear exactly the thing you need to hear. Like I had been giving some thought to drinking and it seemed like at every meeting for a week, someone was back from a relapse or there was someone brand new, or that guy made that comment about getting sober being the hardest thing he ever did, and it snapped me out of it. Anyway, it works that way a lot where the topic seems to be eerily on point. And sometimes you may not need to hear something specific, but someone will say something that causes a shift, sometimes a major shift, in your perspective for example.

The meeting last night was so great because the speaker had kind of a new take on things. His slant was a little bit different and definitely thought provoking. I get a bit tired of hearing the same thing over and over and I always like it when someone says something that gives me a new way of looking at things, AA, the steps, life, etc. The whole lead was really outstanding, and he said a lot of things that gave me a lot to think about, but he said one thing that really made me pause and think about certain aspects of my life. He said, "you will never find security in anything that can be taken from you." I've never felt like I've had the kind of security he was talking about last night and it made me pause because - things that can be taken from you - those are the only places I've ever looked for it. And it scared me for a second too because it made me realize that what I've been searching for in terms of security - it may not exist. And if I really think about it - what are those things that can't be taken from me where I may find what he was talking about? I can only think of 1 thing and I already have it.

$21.06 worth of...

This is what $21.06 worth of yummy goodness from the best bakery on the planet looks like. No, I'm not eating this all - I have a friend in town for a couple of days and this is what he just purchased. I thought he was a little nuts, but then again, I live here, so I have access to this bakery any time I want. If you come visit me, I'll take you there. Any takers? Jod - I know you want some.

The other thing I didn't want to do last night

Clean up cat puke at 3:15 a.m. Why can't the cat puke at 8:30 p.m. on the hardwood floor? Why does he have to puke in the middle of the night on the Berber carpet? A couple of nights ago he puked on the bed at 3 a.m. But, in his defense, I let him. I was suddenly startled from a deep sleep by that unmistakable sound of a cat preparing to puke (you know what I'm talking about), and I realized that I could clean the pillow faster than I could clean the carpet - because - he was going to puke on "his" pillow and there were two pillow cases on it (long story) and I knew that if I could remove them swiftly enough it wouldn't soak through to the down pillow (gross). But then last night, there was no pillow case on his pillow so I had to heave him onto the floor. Anyway, this of course involved turning the light on, getting the carpet cleaner (and while I'm doing this, the cat is eating, cause that's what he always does when he pukes - goes right for the food bowl) - I am surprised I fell back asleep because I'm one of those people who once I am awake, I'm awake for the day usually.

If I didn't know better, I would think that my cat actually planned these things out (but of course he loves me, right?). It's like me going out of town for a week and leaving him (and of course I have someone come check on him at least every other day), and he obviously uses the litter box when I'm gone, but then 10 minutes after I get back, he stands right in front of me and pees on the floor. You know - thinking - you bad, horrible human, you left me alone, I'll show you. My vet doesn't think the cat is capable of such complex thinking and human like emotion - she says he can't plan things. I however disagree. Because why else would that cat go running from one end of the condo all the way to the other, round two corners, and then puke on the white fluffy bath mat that I just washed? Exactly.

Edited to add: the cat is fine by the way - he's not sick or anything. He has food allergies or possibly some digestion issues and eats special food - also known as "limited ingredient diet" which is made with other types of protein like duck, rabbit or venison (instead of chicken, beef etc), has only one type of carb, and limited fillers in it. I tried switching him to another food and well, it didn't work - cause that's what happens, he pukes. I wanted to switch him because his food is $40 a bag, but that's okay - I'd rather him be healthy etc. Poor kitty.

What I didn't want to do tonight

Spend an hour and a half sitting on the island in my kitchen, wondering why I am so stupid that I can't figure out how to reattach the "j" on my lap top key board (home lap top, not work lap top, cause who cares about that computer anyway), after I popped it off because it was sticking (and then realized how infrequently I use that key) (and by the way, there is a lot of cat hair under this key - maybe I should pop the rest off) - during the time I intended to shoe shop online. Now I have a working "j" key and no new shoes and I suppose that's a good thing, because I was prepared to spend several hundred dollars tonight. Darn it. Not to mention, I wanted to go to bed an hour and a half ago - but having the obsessive personality that I have, I wasn't going to be able to sleep without reattaching the key. Seriously, I would have sat here for at least 3 hours working on it, if necessary, at least. Because you know in my head I was already spending several thousand dollars on a new computer and starting to freak out because what I really wanted was shoes. I'm going to bed and thank God my "j" key works, because you'll notice how many times I didn't have to use it to write this post.

I can't keep eating cereal for dinner

There really isn't anything nutritious about it. And I don't even have fruit to put on it. But the thing is, when I get home at 8, when I work 12 hours and then get home late, I don't feel like cooking. Cereal is quick, easy, it doesn't make a mess. It's basically just filler - just something to put in my stomach. For the most part, I don't miss being in a relationship - I'm really quite fine with not having to accommodate someone else all the time. BUT - it would be nice if I had someone to procure food for me. I would love it if someone stuck a plate of food in front of me when I got home, and then they left and took their snoring, annoying habits, etc. elsewhere. But I don't have a boyfriend, or a cook. So, cereal it was, again. Actually, last night, I had cereal and chips and salsa. Yeah. It's too bad that I really like cooking - because it's hard to find the time. And I really like to cook for other people more than for myself, but I have no one to cook for.

And I'm not complaining about the working - no, not me. But the thing is, I really don't like working this much. But I'm not complaining because one minute I'm too slow then I'm too busy, then too slow, then I'm drowning with no end in sight. That's just how it goes. And I need the hours. But there is one thing I don't like about it - when I work like this, I lose touch with everything. I just get in a zone and I just numb out. I can't even tell you how I feel right now, or how I've felt this week - am I happy, anxious, depressed, content, I don't have the faintest idea. I can't even access it.

It used to be that I loved it when I got this busy. I work well under pressure. I used to like it - it was like a drug. I could use my job to numb out for a while. I don't like it anymore. I like a little more down time. I like to be in touch with what's going on with me. I like to at least have an awareness of how I feel and where I'm at mentally. Because you know what will happen, I'll be so busy that a few weeks go by unnoticed and just when I feel in the groove of what I'm doing, and I'm so busy that I've basically forgotten that I'm not feeling anything - I'll be impaled by an emotion. It's happened before, many times. And the problem with those kinds of emotions - those that hit right when you don't feel anything - they feel like they can kill you.

Anyway, things are good - just busy. I'll try to keep up on posting, it's just that sitting in front of a computer when I get home isn't what I feel like doing. But I'll try.

Pillow snatcher

My cat Emerson likes to sleep on pillows. Makes sense I suppose. People like pillows. Pillows are comfortable. Every night my cat sleeps on the back of the chair until I go to bed, then he follows me to bed and assumes his position on the pillow next to the pillow I sleep on. It's very cute really. He sleeps there all night - not moving until I get up usually and every time I wake up, he is curled up into varying positions of cuteness. Sometimes I will wake up and his paws are stretched over onto my pillow. Sometimes he will "paw" me in the head until I pet him. Annoying - but an improvement over what he used to do (flat out attack me and bite me).

He's a left side of the bed only cat. I'm a switch sides of the bed person, so we are having a disagreement. I'm tired of sleeping on the right. I'd like a turn on the left side please, or maybe the middle, or perhaps diagonal, but with my head on the left side. I tried to trade with him. I even gave him the pillow he was sleeping on, in case he could tell the difference between the two identical pillows. But no, he just wanted "his" side of the bed. He stood there on the pillow, right next to my head, until I got annoyed and moved over. Then he laid down and assumed his position of cuteness. The thing is, the cat always gets his way.

Yesterday I wasn't feeling that good - had a headache, thought I would lay down on the couch. I went and got a pillow and then thought, you know, I should pee, because I don't want to get comfortable and then realize I have to pee. Less than a minute later, I returned to the couch to find this...look at him, he looks like he is already asleep. And you know he was thinking, "yeah, you want to try to take my side of the bed again...."

In need of a reality check about how I got here

I'll post about the dress. I will. Just not yet. I started writing it, but I haven't finished it yet. It's complicated and there is much to say.

First I need to check in. That's what a lot of people say at meetings when they share "off topic" - they say they need to check in, about what's going on with them at the moment. I'm checking in here because well, I didn't go to meeting and I need to check in. I need to say something, out loud (this counts as out loud, right?). I've been thinking about drinking. WHOA. Okay, wait a minute. Back up. I'm not going to, I don't even want to necessarily, I've just been thinking about it. I've been thinking about it more than I should be, more than I'm comfortable with, more than is normal for me. I never think about it anymore. It's not even kind of appealing. But it's been on my mind. And the thing is, I always hear the same story when people relapse. They say, I don't really know how it happened, before I knew it I was drinking. You hear it over and over again - someone will say I was sober for 12 years and then I had a drink in my hand. And of course it's a choice, but, that's just the way I imagine it happening - like it happens on accident.

Here's the thing - I came into AA with a high bottom, if you want to call it that. I never lost anything, nothing really terrible happened. My life was really well in tact. It's very easy for me to hear the differences when I listen to other peoples' stories and say, but I never did that or that, and I was never that bad, and that never happened to me. And then your mind starts going down that track and it can get way from you. I didn't drink that much - I really didn't. The next thing you know, you think it doesn't really apply to you. Well I didn't go to a meeting for 9 days, I felt pretty good, and then you know, I just started to wonder if I really have this problem. I mean really, do I really? Did I just stop prematurely because I got scared of turning into my mother? Or do I really qualify?

What I have to remember is this - when I found myself sitting in an AA meeting for the first time, I hated myself and I didn't want to live anymore - and it had nothing to do with alcohol - at last not directly. And that's the problem that I found the solution to in AA - the hating myself and wanting to die problem. The alcohol was but a symptom of the problem as we say. The problem was me. I found the solution to that - to my self esteem, to my self-hatred, to my fear, to my anxiety, to my racing mind, to my discomfort in my own skin, to my obsessive thinking, to my "all or nothing" thinking, to my fear of other people, to my insecurity, to my fear of abandonment, and so much more. That's what I found the solution to in AA - I stopped drinking and I worked the program and I didn't hate myself and I didn't want to die any more and all of those things and so much more changed.

And yes it's true that I do relate to what people in the program say. I relate to why they drank and all of the feelings involved. Alcohol did for me what it did for all of the people in the program. And yeah, at some point I did cross that line where once I started drinking I couldn't stop myself anymore. Because I have countless stories of drinking more than I wanted to and doing things that I didn't want to do. And yeah, like any of us in the program would say, I love that feeling that you get when you drink - I loved it. But drinking aside, the way I felt when I came into the program - I don't ever want to feel that way again. Ever. And that's what I give up if I go drink - I give up all of those things that I've found the solution to. Not to mention everything that goes along with the actual drinking. Because the truth is, if I decided to drink, I don't know what would happen.

I think sometimes I still feel ashamed when it comes to admitting to being an alcoholic. It's not something I should feel ashamed about, but it is. And my head gets away from me because I would rather be normal. And every once in a while I just think it sounds like a good idea - not to obliterate myself, but you know, more like wouldn't it be nice to have a glass of wine with dinner? It doesn't help that the situation with my sponsor hasn't been working out. I called my first sponsor in Michigan yesterday and I'm going to do some step work with her for a while even though we have to do it over the phone. I think it will work out well and I feel better about working with her at this point.

You know what snapped me out of it? What snapped me out of my head trying to convince me that I'm actually normal and don't have this problem? I was sitting at a meeting and this guy said - getting sober was the most difficult thing I've ever done. I thought yeah, me too. YEAH, ME TOO. And the crazy thing is - when I showed up in AA, I didn't think I was an alcoholic - I was sure that I wasn't. I just hated myself and my life and everyone else and I wanted to die, but no, not an alcoholic, definitely not. But, for someone who didn't have a problem with alcohol, it was fucking hard to stop drinking. Seriously. And yeah, not drinking now is easy, but in October of 2005 when I came into AA, just not drinking when I every part of me wanted to, was the fucking hardest thing I've ever done. It snapped me out of it - because if not drinking was the hardest thing I've ever done, I obviously belong in this program. I wish I could get over the shame I associate with it.

And what am I saying anyway - you know - it's just my head getting away from me. Because I love AA. I do. I told you, I wanted to die - and it saved my life. And while I might feel ashamed to admit to being an alcoholic - everything I have in my life and everything I love about my life is all because of AA. So no, I don't really want to drink. I just need to get my head in check. That's all I have thanks, I'll keep coming back (as I would say at the end of sharing at at a meeting).

That was helpful. I feel better already.

The dress I never wore

In the guest bedroom closet there is a dress bag tucked away in a corner. It's my wedding dress. It's not the dress I ever thought I would have chosen. It's probably not what I would choose today. But it's the dress that I chose - to marry that particular person, on that particular April day, in a golden ballroom on Michigan Avenue, and it really was beautiful. I never wore it.

Once every couple of years, I unzip the bag, and look at the crumpled silk - which smells musty, and the cloth covered buttons that go all the way down the back to the bottom of the train, which bustled under, like a ball gown - just to see if it is still as beautiful. And I think about what it represents, all the things that I'm missing.

My dreams are never subtle

My dreams are always a really good indicator of what I have going on in my life. It's really obvious when I'm anxious or stressed about something. Sometimes I don't even realize that I'm overly anxious (it's such a common way for me to feel that I don't think I always identify it as such), and then I'll have an "anxiety" dream as I call them. Last night I didn't have an anxiety dream - I had a dream that I quit my job because one of our competitors made me an offer and promised me more work. That's right to the point, isn't it?

I have these recurring anxiety dreams. They take on one of two forms. In the first type, someone is trying to get me. I'm running around a house trying to lock windows and doors before they get in, or I'm hiding in a closet or an attic hoping not to be found. It's kind of scary actually. Only once has the person ever gotten me - it was actually very frightening. I was sleeping at a boyfriend's house on this particular occasion, and in the dream I was sleeping at his house and everything was just the way it was in reality. This dream was so scary that we had to check the entire house and make sure someone actually wasn't in there. Seriously, it was that real. You know how sometimes you can smell something specific in a dream (well, I do anyway)? Imagine feeling the weight of someone on top of you, breathing on you and holding you down. I really thought there was someone in the house.

In the other type of anxiety dream, I'm still in undergrad and it's exam time. I find out that there is a class that I'm still registered for, that I had intended to drop, and now I have to take the exam because otherwise I will fail the class. Naturally, the class is claculus, because, you know, that would be the thing that I'm the worst at, and of course I haven't been to a single class because I thought I dropped it. This never happened to me in real life, but, in law school once, I did register for a class and then not attend it, purposely. It was at an inconvenient time and after I skipped the first couple of weeks, I guess I just didn't want to go back, besides, I was taking it pass/fail. In law school, at least at mine, probably most, the whole class comes down to one exam and that's your grade. That's it. Some teachers say they factor in "participation," but you don't have any choice as to whether you participate - they just call on you. I suppose she could have failed me for not showing up, but she didn't. And I hoped for the best because I was about to graduate and how could a professor fail someone who was about to graduate just because they didn't attend a single class? That was possibly really stupid of me. But, I passed.

So, in my dream last night when I went to tell the partner that I was quitting and going to work for a competitor, I realized what a huge and horrible mistake I was making. Lesson, don't even think about jumping ship right now (I wasn't really consciously thinking about it actually, but my subconscious obviously was).

Can't think of anything I would rather do (baking cookies in Boston)

Okay, I just had to post some photos of me and my nephew making cookies while I was in Boston, because, well, remembering baking cookies with him and eating cookie dough with him, makes being behind in my hours so totally worth it and unimportant. I'd rather bake cookies with Ellis than work, any day.






Here he is all ready to go with the butter. I bought him that shirt so he could wear plaid flannel just like his daddy and grand daddy. I will be sad when he is old enough to have an opinion about what he wears and I won't be able to dress him anymore.

The doorman is my valentine

I suppose it is more accurate to say that I'm the doorman's valentine, but it sounded better the other way - well, me and every other person that walked through the lobby today. I was walking through the grocery store after work (I went there to buy applesauce, bananas and salsa, specifically) and all these people were buying flowers and I thought about how lame I think Valentine's Day is anyway. I mean, it isn't just because I don't have anyone to share it with. I just think that if I did, well, I would rather get flowers on a random day then on this particular day, and just because, not because it was "required." Anyway, the doorman gave me chocolate (like I said, me and everyone else, but still). I like this doorman, he is my favorite of our doormen.

On another note, I left early again today. I wanted to work more, I was feeling slightly better than yesterday, but, I didn't have enough to do. The partner was sick and not there, and well, if I don't have something to do, or if I can't do what I do have efficiently without talking to the partner first, then I might was well leave because it is all lost time anyway that has to be made up later. So, I can waste it sitting there being seen in my office, or I can waste it at the grocery store buying applesauce and then coming home and shopping online for two hours but not buying anything. So, that is what I did. But first I sent a note to the partner telling him that I need more work. He keeps telling me we are going to be drowning soon and that's great, but my plan of catching up on my hours in February isn't working. In fact, I'm falling farther behind. The trouble is, I'm either a little too slow or way too busy.

And I know I said I wasn't going to obsess over this and be anxious about it - actually I don't feel that anxious - but the thing is, I really do feel like I need to hit my hours this year, and I only have until April 30th to do it. Which means I am going to need two 200 hour months in a row to do it, which is definitely possible, but I need to be consistently busy. And then there is another part of me that thinks so what if I come up 30 hours short. Nothing is going to happen to me. It's just that I will lose bonus money and technically they could deny me my raise. And while the bonus money isn't that important, I do actually want my raise. I'd be pretty pissed if I didn't get it. And probably I would still get it - but do I want to risk not getting a raise? I don't really want to risk that. But again, not the most important thing in the scheme of things. So, I'm done obsessing over it. Because there is only so much I can do about it. I can beg the partner for work but that is about all I can do. I hate the waiting to get busy. Didn't I just complain earlier this week that I was working too late. Yes, I did. What the hell is my problem? I can't win.

I have much more to blog about...much catching up to do...more later...

Lincoln Log photos

Before:After:

I think I may have to buy my nephew another set - some kind of expansion set or something, so I can build a Lincoln Log mansion next time.

Now that I've perfected my drug cocktail

Hopefully I will start feeling better - a little Mucinex, a little Advil Cold & Sinus. Maybe I'll throw in a little Sudafed cold and Alkaseltzer cold, you know, to catch every symptom - cause I have 6 products on the counter. Just kidding. If I'm not better by Friday morning, I'll go to the doctor I suppose. The Mucinex is working already I think. The thing is, I don't feel terrible, I just don't feel good. I feel pretty bad, but how bad is bad enough to not go to work? That's always the question and my meter for that is not calibrated correctly. Today I had a deadline that had to be met - so both the partner and I came in sick. Deadline trumps illness. I am one of those people that will work no matter what basically (obviously, as I worked full-time through cancer treatment). In fact, I've actually said, "I would have to be at least half-dead to not go to work." I probably shouldn't stay stuff like that.

Anyway, I left work at 4:15. My new thing, these days, is not feeling guilty anymore. I'm no longer going to feel guilty about leaving work when I'm sick, or even about leaving when I'm not sick - but can leave just because it's slow and I don't have a deadline. It's important to take advantage of those days because, well, they aren't that common (I'm rarely slow) and there are lots of days when I stay late. No more guilt.

My other new thing is not feeling anxious - about anything - about my job, my hours, my bank account and my health. These are the things that cause me the most anxiety. Well, I'll let you know how this goes. Not feeling guilty and and not feeling anxious are always on my agenda and I'm rarely consistently successful at it.

There are a lot of reasons why I feel guilty about not working "enough." Mostly though it is because they paid a hefty fee to my headhunter to hire me and three weeks later I was diagnosed with cancer. But the thing is, anyone will tell you that I've more than made up for this. I know, I say it a lot, but I really did work 50 hours a week through cancer treatment. And I only billed 50 hours under the requirement that year. And I was the most profitable associate in the group. And on and on. In fact, I worked so much during all of that, that the people I work with sort of thought I was crazy. So for how many years am I going to feel bad about this and feel like I have to continually and repeatedly prove myself? I mean, I think I have actually. It's actually a combo of guilt about having had cancer and feelings of unworthiness. I have such a great job and I don't deserve it. I'm working on not feeling that way too.

I thought I had gotten over it, feelings of guilt and unworthiness, but then two weeks ago, when the ordeal happened (the breast cancer scare I just had is now referred to as the "ordeal"), all of the guilt came back and I thought, oh no, they are going to regret hiring me. It isn't true. It's all unfounded fear on my part.

So I left early, ran a couple of errands, promptly put my pajamas on and here I am. Happy to be blogging and next I'll post some photos!

Say it isn't so

Multiple people have contacted me to see if that last post was in fact my last - if I had indeed retreated from the Internet. One person even called me to find out when I was going to post again. Truthfully, I was contemplating not posting again, but, well, I'm posting to let you know that I am still here - no, I haven't departed, not yet anyway and probably not any time soon. I have much to post about.

I just haven't had time, that's all. I've been sick since I got back from Boston and I'm drowning at work. Sick and being this busy are not a good combination. After working for 11 hours, I just don't feel like posting. I'm actually a little behind on reading too, but I'll catch back up this weekend.

On my flight back from Boston I was thinking, hmm, wouldn't it be great if I could make up all the time I lost by billing 10+ hours per day for the rest of the month of February? Yes, wouldn't that be lovely. Be careful what you wish for. I should actually still be working right now, not posting. I like my job, I do, I really do. But I'm pretty much over it at this point.

I promise - the Lincoln Log photos will be posted soon and I'll be back on track with posting!

Sad to go home

Well, I am sitting here in the airport in Boston, waiting for my flight home. I'm blogging on my blackberry, which my nephew very matter of factly, and correctly informed me is actually blue.

I know some people hate these things, but it comes in handy when you are sitting in the airport, a boring meeting or conference, when you are lost and need a map, when you miss your train in Germany and need to IM your brother to tell him, or if you want to google chat while driving - wait, nevermind that one. Oh yeah, and then there is work, it's good for that too. I really could't do my job without it actually.

Anyway, it's snowing but it looks like we are on time. I'm glad to go home but it was sad to leave my family. I hope I will see them again really soon and that my nephew will remember me. He is just so darn cute. I don't think he could get any cuter.

I've been thinking for a while about changing this blog but I'm not really sure what to change it to. I've probably been thinking about it since last September. Just the name maybe, or maybe the whole thing. Sometimes I think about just one day never posting again. Like a really abrupt ending to a story that leaves you wondering what happens next and the possibilities are infinite. I like those kind of endings. I like it when movies and books just end, with no resolution and unanswered questions. I like things to just end. Even friendships, without goodbyes. Where am I going with this? No where. I'm just bored in the airport.

All packed up, and

It is with mixed feelings of course that I am going back home tomorrow. I need to go home, I haven't been there in a week, but I wish I could stay and absorb more of the wonder of looking out the window with my nephew or playing with an old lotion bottle or a hair curler. Sometimes I wish I could just suspend time.

The mail hasn't been gotten in a week, my cat is alone, I need to make my car payment, go to a meeting (it's been 8 days, but who's counting), figure out what's going on at work - oh right, that place, get back into exercising regularly, do my taxes, make a dentist appointment, meet with a sponsee, back to my daily routine of praying and meditating. It's back to reality and all that comes with it. My reality is not something to complain about, I'm not saying that.

When I had this breast cancer scare last week, it really threw me off, more than ever in the past and more than I expected. I handled it both better and worse than I would have anticipated. It scared me so much that what I really wanted was to take an unpaid leave of absense from my life for a while. I seriously wanted to walk into work and say see you guys later, I need to figure a few things out and I can't do it here. And it's true that I do feel like I need to figure a few things out, but I can't take an unpaid leave and check out for a while. It just isn't a possibility. I will have to figure those things out some other way I suppose. Regardless, I just needed some time. I needed to pause for a moment and step away from my life.

So instead I spent a week at my brother's house in Boston, where I "worked," but it was more of in theory than anything and mostly I just goofed off. Next week I will regret it when I look at how many hours I have to bill to catch back up by the end of the month - but, let's just forget about that for as long as we can. The time that I took was and it wasn't enough. I leave with what I came for, and with unanswered questions, and with even more questions. But I did figure a few things out. Next post.

Oh, and I am also sad.

If I could feel that way again

I've been thinking about what it's like to be 1 1/2. No, of course I don't remember. It's on my mind because I've been with my nephew all week and spending time with him brings up a lot of things for me. About my own childhood especially, about the way I am now, about his future which I worry about because I want his life to be filled only with good things and it makes me think about what we didn't have. I look at this little tiny person, and it saddens me the way we were treated growing up.

Why I love to spend time with him is because he has no real awareness of anything other than the moment. True, if you take something away from him he remembers a little while later that he still wants it, but he is very much present. He's too little really to exist outside of right now. Whereas I, as an adult, exist everywhere but right now most of the time. The past and the future - but never the moment. I want to be that way in the world - where the most exciting and important thing is the thing right in front of me and nothing exists outside of my immediate attention. Maybe what I really want is to be free of adult things like worry and anxiety and fear of the future and sadness. But there is no way to be free of those things. I still want to be present and focused and I want to enjoy it. This is something that has been a struggle all of my adult life.

My nephew is wild and silly and makes goofy faces and says the cutest things. And you chase him and he runs behind the cardboard box and you pretend you can't see him and sneak up on him and he laughs and he says "more" "more" "more" until you do it again, but it sounds more like "mo" "mo" "mo." What I want to remember is what it's like to be that unaware of myself in the world. To not be aware of the fact that people are making judgments about me, looking at me, liking me or not liking me. I love the way a really little kid can be totally silly and goofy and not care at all what someone thinks, to not even be aware that someone may be thinking anything. I've realized though that people aren't paying as much attention to me as I always would have thought (how self-centered of me right?). People are too self absorbed to care what I'm doing or what I look like or how I'm behaving, but that of feeling of everyone is looking at me has never really gone away.

I'm a pretty shy person. That's probably the way most people would describe me - pretty shy and extremely quiet, not at all outgoing. I'm fairly self-conscious and I am pretty uncomfortable in my own skin. I won't play Cranium. I hate that game. I basically hate game playing because it just seems to be an opportunity for me to embarrass myself. I don't do well in large groups of people that I don't know. I'm always the one sitting there saying nothing. I'm more of an observer. I'm much better one on one with people. It's interesting though, because not everyone has that assessment of me. Some people would say that I'm not quiet at all. It depends I guess and honestly that part of me has changed a lot. I am a lot more comfortable. I have learned not to care as much what people think, or not to worry about it and obsess over it.

But from the time I can remember, all I can remember is being painfully shy and terribly uncomfortable around people, no matter who they were. I was always uncomfortable around pretty much everyone. When I watch my nephew play and just be who he is - I wonder, was I ever that silly, that goofy, did I ever not worry about what people thought of me, did I ever not have that awareness coloring everything I did? Ever since I can remember, I have been terrified of being myself, even as a very little kid. And I always thought I had to be a certain thing or a certain way to get someone to like me because of course no one would just like me for who I am. For most of my life I have walked around with the feeling of - if only you knew me - I mean really knew the real me, you wouldn't be my friend. Why do I think that? I don't know. It's some combination of low self esteem and a fear of abandonment I suppose.

Anyway, I wish I could be the way he is in the world and not have that awareness of myself that makes me overly self-conscious and terrified to be me. I just wish I could remember what that feels like.

The story of how I found out I had breast cancer

Several people have asked me how I found out I had breast cancer in the first place - since I was 28, with no known family history and no risk factors. I also happen not to have a gene for it, which I know because I did genetic testing after I found out. I was just that unlucky and unlikely, less than 1%. So, here is the story. It's not that exciting, just a little bit of a caution to all women, that's all.

I'm no authority on breast cancer statistics, although yes, I do know a lot about it, but just to clear up one common misconception, 80% of breast cancer instances are in women who have no known family history and no risk factors. You may think you are less likely to get it if no one in your family has had it, but it isn't true. If you aren't checking yourself, you need to be. No matter how old, or rather, how young you are. I wasn't checking myself, not with any regularity anyway. It can save your life you know. How early you find it can mean the difference between taking chemo drugs and not taking chemo drugs, between losing your fertility as a result of those drugs and keeping it, between it spreading and not spreading, and it can change your long term odds significantly. You need to check yourself.

I had moved to Chicago for a job but hadn't started yet so I went back home for my annual exam because I still had insurance there. My doctor found something that felt like a fluid filled cyst during the exam. Right at 12 o'clock and very high up. Impossible to miss, if you were looking. It wasn't there last year when I had my exam. How could I never have noticed it, even if I wasn't checking every month? It had to be a cyst right? I was 28 and it was huge, squishy and freely mobile. If you know anything about breast cancer, you know that it is never described as soft and squishy and freely mobile. It is described more like a hard pea, and locked in place. So when you are checking yourself, don't only feel for things that are hard. The problem though is that it is hard to distinguish between lumpy breast tissue and other soft lumps. So if ever you are in doubt, don't make any assumptions.

She told me not to worry but just to get it checked again when I get back to Chicago. I panicked. She sent me for an ultrasound. They said it wasn't fluid filled, definitely solid, had to be a fibroid, because I was 28. Just check it again when you get back to Chicago they said, but you don't need to worry. So I started my job, got my insurance all set and made an appointment. Same story - not fluid filled, definitely solid, but it has to be a cyst because I was 28. The doctor said it was unusually large but that it didn't necessarily need to be removed. She recommended waiting for 6 months, checking it again and if it was getting bigger, well, then we would think about removing it. But couldn't it be something other than a fibroid? Shouldn't we check? She said no, that I was only 28.

We went back and forth about it and finally I said, I want to know now that this isn't anything. Why would I wait 6 more months to know that this isn't anything, if you could tell me now? Because you are only 28 she said, you couldn't have breast cancer. It would be extremely unlikley. So I said, well, let's just check then. If you can prove it to me, I want you to prove it to me now, not later. So she gave in eventually after a lot of discussion and did a biopsy and told me not to worry because the chances that it was anything bad were less than 1%. Well, the rest is history right. It came back as breast cancer and the course of my life has been forever altered. She didn't know what to say and I switched doctors. Not only did I have breast cancer, but about as dangerous as it can be in terms of cell growth and spread. The tumor was already 4 cm. In an ideal world you catch it when it is less than 1 cm. You need to catch it a lot earlier than I did. I was lucky that it hadn't spread (at least as far as we can know that). Can you even imagine if I had waited 6 more months, on her recommendation, just because of my age?

Then I sent my all of my biopsy slides and films etc. up to the hospital in my home town for review. Up there I found out that the tumor, based upon the characteristics of it, probably grew to that size in less than a year. I asked the radiologist at this other hospital if it looked like breast cancer on the films. What does it look like? I just wanted to know. Turns out it isn't all that obvious on ultrasounds or mammograms (or MRIs as we just found out) whether something is malignant or benign, but he told me that if they saw the same thing in someone even 10 years older, the doctors would have been terriried. He said that the sole reason the doctors and radiologists told me to wait was because of my age. It's simple, it's just a numbers game, because to them I am just a statistic, an unlikelihood. I also found out that in between the original ultrasound and the one that I had one month later - the tumor had grown measurably. It was extremely fast growing.

I really can't imagine why a doctor would ever tell a woman to wait if there is some kind of lump in her breast. It doesn't make sense to me. Likely or unlikely, it just doesn't make sense. We are talking about life and death here, we are talking about differences that impact your survival.

The bottom line is, you need to check yourself, even if you are only 20, you need to check yourself every month at the same time. And if you find something, don't wait to get it checked out and don't make any assumptions because of your age and your family history. And if your doctor is making assumptions, you need to get a new doctor, period. Just get a new doctor. Don't let them tell you about statistics and your age because it's not going to matter how unlikely it was when you find out later you have it and it's spread all over your body and can no longer be cured.

A new level of unproductive (and Lincoln Logs are fun)

Haven't I written this post before? Probably. But just when I think I've excelled at being unproductive, I achieve still greater depths. How is it possible to "work" from oh, say 10:30 a.m. until hmm, 7 p.m. and do all of 2 hours of work? I'm serious. The problem with a day like today - is that it wasn't like being on vacation and it wasn't like working either. Now I'm one giant ball of anxiety because I feel like I've lost control over my job in the matter of a day (you know, the job that in the scheme of things isn't important, right, at least when you think you have breast cancer again anyway, but at the moment, it is overwhelming me).

I am so anxious at the moment that I don't know what to do with it. Dare I say it could be because I haven't been to a meeting in 6 days. Well, don't tell my sponsor that because I don't want to hear about it.

So what am I going to do in order to deal with this anxiety? Pray, meditate, read a daily reading, call my sponsor, work, like I should have earlier instead of chasing my nephew around the house and baking cookies? No, I am going to build a Lincoln Log creation. There will be a photo, probably.

Edited to add: The Lincoln Log building went fabulously well. Much better than anticipated. I started out feeling pretty stressed about whether I would have enough/the right pieces. I had to make a few modifications to the architecture, but I think it works - I gave it a door where there should have been a window. The photo is going to have to wait until I get home. You know what else I like to do? Color in coloring books. I love it. I have coloring books at home. It didn't really get any stress relief from it though. Actually, after I was done, I waned to knock it down and start over because there are some other cool designs on the box.

I was just about to say...

I was about to say that I feel myself about to crash. You know, into depression. I feel myself teetering on the edge of a steep downhill, at the bottom of which there can only be a crash. Because it's been a while since I've been down there (I've been feeling pretty good for a while, up until last week's events that is) and you know what that means. Eventually there has to be a crash, there always is. And now seems like the perfect time, right after all of the stress I just went through, to just hit the bottom.

The thing is, I'm begrudingly admitting this. I haven't gone to a meeting since last Wednesday. What does that have to do with it? Well, everything. I also haven't exercised in over a week, I've been eating like crap or not eating much at all because of my stomach issues the past few days, and now I am also out of town where I won't exercise and probably won't sleep as well as I normally do. I would rather blame it (this downhill slide) on the lack of exercise coupled with stress, but, damn it, I really think it's because I haven' t been to a meeting. And a funny thing happens when I don't go. I lose all perspective, I start to think that my life really sucks, I start to think that I'm a worthless piece of crap, then I hate myself and everything is pointless and I might as well just give up. It takes oh, about a week without going to a single meeting to go from everything is great to everything is pointless and I might as well not bother. So, that gives me two days to go to one. I hate to admit that going to an AA meeting can prevent that from happening, but it does. And when I'm at home, I go to anywhere from 3-5 a week.

When I go out of town, everything goes out the window. I don't pray, meditate, do the daily readings, call my sponsor, or go to meetings. I basically just don't do any of it. It isn't that it doesn't seem like a good idea, or like it only applies to me when I'm at home, that's just what happens. I think about going to a meeting, but it's annoying to get there. It ends up taking a couple of hours because I don't know where I'm going and will probably get lost. And the fact is, I know that I'm not going to do anything. I know I can be out of town for any length of time without drinking, so I just hold out until I get home. And in the meantime, if all perspective is lost and everything seems hopeless, well, that can be remedied with a meeting or two when I get back. I used to go to meetings when I would go out of town, when I was first in the program, but that was because I couldn't not go or I would have ended up drinking.

Frankly, now, drinking isn't even interesting to me anymore. I used to think about it all the time. I've realized, at some point in the past two years, I've just stopped thinking about it. It's just not the thing that I would think of if I wanted to escape and it's not the thing that I would think of if I wanted to unwind or relax or have fun even. I don't know when that happened exactly, that it became uninteresting. But I just don't care anymore. It used to be that I went to meetings because I wanted to go drink less if I went, but now, that isn't even why I go anymore. I mean, not to get too far out of touch with the reality of it - I know what would happen if I stopped going completely. It just seems like the whole thing is less of an issue these days than it ever was. I was the only one it bothered anyway I think. No one else really cares whether I drink or don't or why or whatever. I still have a fair amount of shame associated with this whole part of my life though. I can tell when I talk about it. It's almost like I wish I could find some way to talk about it in disguise or something - to talk about it without actually talking about it.

So anyway, I'm still in Boston and still having stomach issues. Could it really be that I messed my stomach up this badly by being stressed out? I guess it is possible, but I never would have thought so.

Today I walked around all day with a blanket around my shoulders like a cape and a hot water bottle stuffed under my sweater. What am I going to do tomorrow when I actually have to go outside and get on a bus? Seriously. Me, go outside and travel farther than one block? I've been spoiled by my lifestyle in Chicago. I admit it, it's cushy and I like it. When did I become this person that doesn't go outside and drives everywhere? I am going to try to go to a meeting while I'm out there in the world tomorrow. Yeah right.

I need to go prepare the tea kettle for my middle of the night hot water bottel re-fill. I am still trying to figure out how to just attach it to myself. It's hard to do things like load the dishwasher or put laundry away if one hand is holding a water bottle or cozy bag to your body.

Good night.

If you agree to do it, you don't get to complain about it

That's all I have to say.

Edited to add: I do this all the time. Agree to something and then complain, like today - after I agreed to work while on "vacation." And the thing is, I suppose it's okay to complain, sort of (not really), but if you agreed to it, then you can really only thank yourself. I mean, I know how to avoid it, duh, don't agree to do it.

A little under the weather

I don't feel that great. I seem to have some sort of stomach thing going on. Not sure if it was the cheeseburgers or not. The last time I came to visit my brother, I got sick also. It was when I went to Germany last June. I got some strange rash all over my neck and chest and was dizzy for like 5 days. We were driving around Germany and Northern France and I didn't even want to get out of the car. I just wanted to lay in the backseat because walking even a block exhausted me. It eventually went away before I left for London for work. Whatever this is, hopefully it won't last much longer. I don't freel horrible, just not great and kind of tired. It could just be that I'm feeling sick now that all of the stress of last week is over. I'm one of those people that has to come down off of stressful situations and usually I get a migraine in the process. When I'm in the middle of something stressful - I have no physical symptoms of it, it's always afterwards. Hopefully I'll feel better soon.

So I'm sitting here with a hot water bottle, waiting for my nephew to wake up. I'm watching him this afternoon/evening. Not that it's all that cold or anything and I need a hot water bottle. I just have a thing for hot water bottles, or "cozy bags." A friend of mine makes cozy bags - they are cloth bags made out of pretty material and filled with rice and cinnamon or jasmine. You microwave them. I sleep with two, sometimes 4 of these things in my bed. I like to heat up two and bury them down under the covers to pre-heat the bed and then the other two I keep with me on the couch while I watch t.v. and then take them to bed with me. I don't have the heat on at my house - but I don't need it. It stays 68 or 70 no matter how cold it is out. But unfortunately, now I need something warm in the bed with me to sleep, and no, another person won't do. I'd rather sleep alone actually. At home I pretty much have a warm cozy bag with me at all times. So, here, I am carrying around a hot water bottle brought back from when they lived in Germany. In fact, truthfully, I have it shoved underneath my sweater between my sweater and my shirt. And if I could find a way to attach these things to my body, I would.

I'm not really sure what me and Ellis are going to do tonight. Can I actually occupy him for that many hours I wonder? Maybe I can think of something for us to do that mom and dad won't normally let him do, you know, so I can be the cool aunt that spoils him and lets him get away with things. I'm not sure what it would be though. Hmm. And he's too little to appreciate it anyway. He won't even really know that he's getting away with something. Maybe we will eat pumpkin pie and bananas with peanut butter for dinner, cause that actually sounds good. Except I just ate pie, and now my stomach doesn't feel so good. It just feels yucky.

I don't have much to say about what I went through last week - except that I feel like I am having a hard time getting over it.

Edited to add: Well, Ellis and I had fun. Mostly we played with things that weren't really toys, like two red balloons, a card board box, and my bag of products. He seemed to really enjoy taking the bottles and containers of things out of my bag, shaking them and putting them back. We also had a bath and got a lot of water on me and the floor with a squirt toy. And for dinner we had some cheese, part of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and we played with some pie. We read maybe 8 stories. He's quite talkative. We talked for hours (he's 1 and 1/2). I have no idea what we talked about but I generally agreed with him and he seemed to know exactly what we were discussing. He's incredibly cute.

I'm in Boston!

Unplug all of the lamps - CHECK! I also unplugged the Swiffer Sweep 'N Vac, and contemplated unplugging the alarm clock, but you know, in my 30 years on the planet, the alarm clock has never done anything while I was gone. You can imagine that traveling is stressful for me, since, you know, I "have" to unplug the lamps. I would unplug everything in the house if I could probably - but, well, Tivo can't be unplugged because recording my tv shows outweighs my anxiety. But it is stressful getting out the door, once I'm out the door, I'm fine.

The cheeseburgers I ate at 10 a.m. are not digesting right though. It was just that I knew I would get hungry and it was either eat really early or really late. So I opted for really early because where I was going (Boston), it was already 11, so plausibly lunch time. And cheeseburgers sounded good since I only eat this kind of thing when I travel. All my healthy eating goes out the window when I travel. But, now, I'm kinda wishing I hadn't eaten them.

Edited to add: I'll never eat cheeseburgers again, even when I travel.

Also - I dropped my work computer. Whoops. From 5 feet high. It was in my bag but I heard a loud crack. It was an accident. Seems to be working, but not quite right. At first I thought, oh darn, really, shoot - I might have broken it and won't be able to work while here. Well, oh well. Because you know, I had intended to take the week off, but then said I would work some anyway. I need to stop doing that. Taking time off and working anyway. But see it's working, just not quite right. But, maybe work will give me a new one when I get back. Maybe.

If you want to know why I came all the way to Boston after that horrible experience I just had, just go over here to my brother's blog and check out this super cute video of my nephew - and you will understand.

Now, what should I do while here? My brother's neighborhood appears nice for taking a walk. I think I'll start with that.

Edited to add: It was a nice walk. I took their dog Scout. My brother's neighborhood is very much a neighborhood. In Chicago I live right in the city, right downtown, amidst wharehouse style and high rise condos, definitely not in a neighborhood. But my brother lives in a neighborhood of hills and beautiful houses. We walked past a house around the corner that Amelia Earhart lived in. It was sunny and crisp. It was quiet. It made me miss home. Not my childhood home or anything, just being in a town like my home town. It made me miss neighborhoods and walking amidst trees and homes instead of concrete and tall buildings. It made me wonder if I could really stay in a big city and because I don't want to live in a suburb of Chicago, where would I go? It felt nothing like being at home where everything moves quickly and there is a sense of urgency - always busy, always in a hurry, always rushing, thinking ahead, and planning - working long hours, never home. It was peaceful - the world seemed to slow down and I slowed down with it.

And now the waiting is over, so, let the celebrating begin

Hi everyone. Everything is okay. I don't have breast cancer again! Thank you God, and thank you to all of you wonderful people who have been checking back and praying, etc.

I had an MRI biopsy (unpleasant) Wednesday and when I had the MRI, one of the two spots had disappeared (which means it was hormone related). So they just biopsied the one spot and I've been waiting since Wednesday morning to find out whether everything is okay. And it is! But that might have been the worst few day wait of my life. It was horrible. But, let's not dwell on that. Because it's over and everything is okay!!!

So now, we celebrate! I started with a little shopping trip that cost me um, only $200, but I've only just started.

And tomorrow I am going to Boston for the week to visit my brother, sister-in-law and nephew, and I'm going to enjoy every last little second of it. There is nothing like playing with my nephew to remind me what being present in the moment is all about.

More later, as I process what I just went through, but for now, a special thank you to my friend Tricia who is a 10 year breast cancer survivor and who inspires me because she was told she only had a 30% chance of living, and to Netta who saved my life the first time around, to my friend Pam who will always be the first person I call if ever there is a risk that I might not stay sober through something, and a very special thank you to someone else, you know who you are, for listening.