Please Hang Up and Text Me

My hubby came home from work today and our conversation went something like this:

Hubby:  I found someone who just might be your soul sister.

Me:  Oh really? And just exactly who do you think is my soul sister? (I already have 5 blood sisters, so this should be good)

Hubby:  Maya (Not her real name)

Me:  Really? Maya? Why would you think she is my soul sister? (Don’t get me wrong, I like Maya, but I don’t know her all that well. We don’t hang out; we don’t text, and outside of work, I don’t ever see her, so this took me by surprise.)

Hubby:  Because you both have an absolute hatred for talking on the phone. She broke up with her boyfriend because he had one thing she asked of him; all he had to do was make the phone calls. Dinner reservations? He better call or they eat in! Apparently he stopped living up to his part of the relationship, so he had to go.

I don’t know that I would go so far as to say Maya and I are soul sisters, but it made me realize that I have voiced my hatred for talking on the phone so loudly that my hubby knows that if something needs to get done and it requires a phone call, he had better take the initiative. This really comes as a surprise to me. I have never set out to make it known how much I hate to talk on the phone, but apparently I have made it perfectly clear.

Here’s the thing; talking on the phone is exhausting. It’s awkward; it’s uncomfortable; it requires too much thinking; I feel put on the spot! I really, really hate talking on the phone. Texting is so much easier. It’s less intrusive, and I can take my time formulating my thoughts before responding. I hate talking on the phone so much that even my sweet nieces, who I absolutely adore and miss terribly, will not get me to pick up that damn phone! In fact, when that phone rings, regardless of who it is, I almost get a little panicked because it means I have to intentionally decide to let it go to voicemail, knowing full well, I will never answer that voicemail.

On the other hand, I will text all day long, provided I have time. I am very comfortable texting, and I find I’m much funnier in text than in person, too! 🙂

don't talk to me But there is an awkward moment when you’re texting someone and then they call you! Do I pick up? Do I not pick up? I would say 99% of the time, I don’t pick up! If I won’t even pick up the phone to make a doctor’s appointment, I sure as hell won’t pick up if we’ve been texting and having a good conversation all along. Why ruin a good thing by actually talking? 😉

Now you know that I won’t even pick up the phone to call the doctor. Can I just tell you how much I love ZocDoc? OMGosh it has been life changing! I can make a doctor’s appointment right there, online! I never have to talk to a receptionist who is just going to put me on hold and ask me the same freaking questions over and over again because she keeps putting me on hold, forgetting to write down the information I was providing her! Telling a stranger, over the phone I have a UTI even one time is humiliating enough, but making me repeat it for all the entire office to hear is just down-right mean!

Did you know you can even book your hygiene appointments online? I don’t have to talk to someone to schedule a bikini wax! Again…it’s humiliating enough to have one done; don’t make me say it to you over the phone when I don’t even know who you are.

need to prepare

I have to mentally prepare myself for the appointment; having to mentally prepare to make the appointment will take added time. By that point, I’ve grown a forest!

Modern technology has been a saving grace for this secret introvert! So for all those out there who want to talk to me via phone…I don’t care if you’re family, my hubby, my friends…I have one piece of advice that will make our relationship so much stronger and healthier:

before calling me


Don’t Be Fooled by the Cheshire Cat’s Smile

I am not really sure where to even start because it has been so long…far too long…since I have written in my blog. I honestly had resolved myself to giving up on my blog because I no longer wanted to write about my pain or my doctor’s appointments, or my test results…blah, blah, blah! While I was going through the bulk of my illness, I needed this blog because talking was physically too painful many days; it was just too exhausting, if truth be told, so I wrote instead. I just needed to get it all out, but now it’s different. While I am not in the throws of the torture that I was two years ago, I still suffer daily with chronic pain and fatigue, but I can manage it. I live with it, and I’m ok with it. It’s part of who I am at this point.

It has become easier to manage my illness mostly due to how I eat. If you recall, I wrote about starting the AIP elimination diet, and then choosing to live a Paleo lifestyle, and while that was probably one of the hardest things I ever did, both mentally and physically, it was a significant turning point for me.

So…now what am I supposed to write about? My life is so boring compared to many others. I am somewhat of a homebody and find going out too often makes things really difficult for me. The stress of too much stimuli manifests itself physically for me, so I find it not worth it, which means I don’t have any crazy, wild nightlife adventures to write about. I won’t be writing about getting drunk and tripping over myself on the dance floor!

My job is really fun to me, but I’m a little bit of a tech geek and the funniest part of my day is trying to tell someone what I did at work and watching their faces go blank because they have absolutely no clue what I’m talking about! So, I don’t usually talk about it anymore except to those I work with who do what I do and know more than what I know.

I guess I could write about my kiddo, but he’s 18 and at some point, I’m sure he will come across my blog and want to read it. He is a very private person and doesn’t spend much time on social media…I know what you’re thinking? He’s 18 and doesn’t like social media? Yup! You read that right! He tends to think social media makes people do and say stupid things, so he chooses not to pay attention. So….I’ll respect my kiddo’s wishes and allow him to remain private and not introduce him to the world wide web without his permission.

So, if you’re still with me, I’m going to ask for your patience while I try to pay closer attention to my life and figure out how to present it in a fashion that would be enjoyable to read. Here is my first attempt:

Allow me to provide a little background first. Yesterday, I drove down to McAllen, TX which is about a 5 hour drive from where I live. One of my very long time friends’ daughter graduated and was accepted into Brown University, so she had a graduation party for her. Of course, I was going to go! How could I not? My friend and I were pregnant at the same time; our babies were born 2 days apart; she was like a second baby to me! I made the trip down, but I had to come back the same day because I couldn’t find a substitute to teach my cute, little Primary class for church today. Needless to say, driving 10+ hours in one day is a little daunting, but I made sure to take several breaks. I would stop to get gas, even if I still had a half a tank; or I would find a place to get something to drink, etc. You get the point; I took a lot of breaks!

common sense

But during every single one of these stops, I noticed something for the first time that I have never saw before…or maybe I chose not to see it. Every time I stopped to make a purchase and stretch my legs, I kept getting this feeling like I was being watched. I got that sense even when I was face to face with the cashier(s). It was one of the most uncomfortable and odd feelings. I kept wondering if my dress was accidentally tucked into my underwear! I told my husband about it, to which he replies, “Honey, they’re ogling you”.  WHAT???? Why? Why in the world would they even be looking, let alone ogling? I’m almost 40 years old; I’m not a very interesting person; I can’t nor won’t put up with their shenanigans and I sure as hell won’t be joining them at the club on Saturday night? Then it dawns on me…only I know these things about myself. These people have no clue who I am other than what I look like, so I made a decision! I decided that I was going to smile at them like I was the cheshire cat because I know who I am and who I am not and THEY ARE CLUELESS! For some reason, this was quite amusing to me, and I spent several hours driving, thinking about it and couldn’t get the shit-eating grin off my face. In fact, it still makes me smirk.

cheshire cat


Not Your Typical “Back To School” Post

back-to-school1 My Instagram has been flooded with image after image of my friends sending their kids off to their first day of school. Their sweet sentiments and loving words absorb almost every adjective known to the English language, and the number of tearful pictures of Mom’s were endless! As I peruse my feed, I am secretly praying to see a post…a picture… anything…NOT related to back to school…secretly praying the next post or the next sad mommy face won’t add another layer of guilt to the already overwhelming feelings of inadequacies I feel as a mother. You see, I did not take any pictures of my 17 year old boy leaving the house to head to his first day as a senior in high school. I did not cry as I watched him close the door. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t even home to see my son off to his first day of school. Why, you might ask? Because I forgot it was the first day of school.

My son is a typical teenager in that I embarrass the crap out of him! Just my mere, uninvited presence sends that boy cowering as if he were the melting Wicked Witch of the West! So, do you think he was about to let me take him back to school shopping, despite the fact that he has holes the size of China in his sneakers, or that an entire munchkin could fit in the holes of his jeans? Oh the horror that poor child must endure to be seen with his mother getting clothes. It is absolutely mortifying people! So nope, I didn’t take my child back to school shopping. I also didn’t take him to the back to school “event” at the high school because, well…I think you get the point! I had no reminders or indicators to invoke any sweet, loving sentiments for my child on his first day to his senior year of high school.

As if the guilt of forgetting it was my child’s first day of school wasn’t bad enough, the very night before he is to go back to school, my son and I argue about his education. Did I mention that my son was stubborn? This incredibly smart, talented and funny boy of mine has refused to take his education seriously, constantly having to sit through summer school sessions year after year. He loves to push my buttons, and he managed to do just that last night.

Son: Mom, it’s my life and you’re just going to have to trust that I know what I’m doing.

Me: Jacob, you haven’t given us much reason to trust that you know what you’re doing when you continue to disregard assignments, fail tests and wind up spending your summers back in school only to fail again? How is that showing us you know what you’re doing?

Son: I don’t care what you say, Mom. Our education system is stupid and doesn’t actually teach me anything. I refuse to participate and there isn’t anything you can do about it.

Me: Son, you can’t possibly mean that. Do you believe by failing out of high school you are proving a point to someone who actually cares? You’re only hurting yourself! How is that philosophy even rational?

Son: Oh, so no one cares about me? No one cares if I fail? Whatever! I’m going to bed……storms off, slams bedroom door, and I don’t see him again until 5 minutes ago when he returned home from work.

back to school blues  He is seriously freaking me out, and all I want is for “Back to School” to go away. I want to back the clock up and figure out a way to help my child appreciate and value his education. I want to back the clock up and figure out a way to make my child not so utterly sickened by my appearance that he won’t refuse to be seen with me in any public setting. And despite all of this, I just don’t want my child to turn 18 and leave my house, unprepared to face the world. Let me rephrase that… I just don’t want my child to leave. I am not ready to be an empty nester at 38 years old. I’m not ready for any of this!


kissing boo

Two of our favorite activities back in the day…4th of July fireworks and the Beach!

me n baking boo

He used to spend many hours with me cooking and baking in the kitchen, until he decided it was no longer cool. 🙂

me n boo

My mother’s day present…Game Day at Fenway Park!



Just Another Manic Monday…but I Don’t Wish It Were Sunday!

sick weekend

I am really getting tired of my body having such an acute insight to when the weekend is approaching; lately, it completely shuts down and ruins any plans I may have made for the weekend.

When I woke up on Wednesday, it was time for me to return home from my trip back home, and I swear my body knew it. I woke up with severe brain fog, irritability and of course, the constant pain. I was actually starting to think this trip wasn’t going to be that bad since I had several days where I felt pretty good, all things considering.  I tried to remain active so my body wouldn’t get stiff, which seemed to help, especially since the bed wasn’t that comfortable to sleep in. It definitely could have been worse, but it wasn’t my bed so naturally, it was going to feel a little “off” to me. But I’m telling ya, my body knew I was coming back home and decided to act up. I tried to sleep on the plane in the hopes I wouldn’t sit for the next 5 hours feeling the pain burning throughout my hips and lower back, but that hope didn’t turn into reality.  As soon as I got off the airplane and stepped outside into the Austin “air”, I swear I could feel my face begin to tighten, as if anticipating the attack it would soon face.

Thursday and Friday morning, sure enough, I could feel the allergies attacking my face as my sinuses start to swell, causing pressure to build up. I could be wrong, but it seems like since having my surgery, any little swelling makes the sinus pressure so much worse than before. By the time Saturday came, the pressure has turned to vertigo, dizziness and nausea.  Oh the joys of my weekend!

After plenty of steroids, it’s safe to go to work, but we shall see how long it lasts. When the vertigo hits, no one wants me on the roads! :-0  I am really starting to miss my gym workouts, but what’s worse is I am really starting to dread weekends. Boo!

OK, my rant is over.

This week will be better and my next weekend is going to be magical!



Best Laid Plans

Have you ever had those days, and in my case week, where it didn’t go at all like you planned and it requires every amount of strength or maturity you can muster not to behave like a child, lashing out in anger and frustration?

Despite my best laid plans, everything I attempted to do this week seemed to blow up in my face; despite my best laid plans, I couldn’t will my vision into reality and all I want to do is scream at the top of my lungs.  It’s really remarkable how childish I feel on the inside.  I am almost 38 years old and yet, the adolescent tantrums I outgrew many years ago are so near the surface that I am fearful of them leaking out.  I don’t believe they will burst out, thank goodness, but I do fear cracks in the lining are beginning to appear.  A simple email “critiquing” my work from an individual I have little professional respect should not lead me down this emotional roller coaster, so I’m either incredibly “over” this week, or there are underlying issues with this colleague.  I normally enjoy and look forward to critiques from my colleagues, but this one set me off.

I have worked incredibly hard this week, addressing a major issue, working all hours of the day and night to get this problem fixed and resolved.  I did not do this to earn any accolades or rewards; I did this because I am passionate about my work, and I want to be helpful to those I work with.  Has my exhaustion made me vulnerable and “raw” to the emotions I normally have so well under control?  Or do I have other issues…other emotions….that I am harboring towards this colleague?  I have heard that when there are things about other people that cause you to react in a negative manner, it’s because there is something in them that you see in yourself that you dislike.  I have known that part of my reason for struggling with this colleague is because I do not have respect for her abilities to do the job she has been tasked with and struggle to understand how she is still in the vital and critical role she holds.

If we go along with the theory that I dislike my colleague because I subconsciously recognize a weakness in myself, could it be that I don’t feel competent in my new position?  I fought very hard to prove I was able to do this job, but deep down inside, I still question whether or not I am going to be good at it.  I have a beautiful and perfect example in my husband of how a Product Manager should be, and I can tell you that I do not even come close to being as talented, intelligent and hard working as my husband.  He is amazing, and while his job has very different aspects than my own, it is ultimately the same.  We have in common the fact that neither he, nor I have ever been a Product Manager before, so on some level we started on the same playing field, each of us bringing our own skill sets to the table. I am so incredibly proud of my husband….more than words could ever express; he has become wildly successful, near invaluable to our Company.  He has completely turned his product upside down to make it more successful than the product we are most known for among the IT industry; no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to make him as proud as he has made me.

Hmmmm….this is a prime example of why I blog.  I started this off thinking my angst was related to another, when in fact, it’s my own feelings of inadequacy that are causing these uncharacteristic reactions in me…..and maybe, just maybe, I needed my plans to go awry so that I would be vulnerable enough to recognize that my weaknesses and insecurities need to be addressed.  Maybe I needed to feel “picked on” by someone I struggle with already in order for me to start writing it all down.

Answers come from the strangest resources as times.  It hasn’t been an easy transition changing my career this late in life, and while I wouldn’t go back and change it, I realize that I need to make sure I don’t sabotage myself.


Don’t Honk at Me!

Bad thoughts

Have you ever made a mistake while driving, catch yourself at the last minute (thankfully), only to have someone scare the ever living crap out of you by laying on their horn?  This is such a pet peeve of mine!  Do they think I didn’t know I screwed up?  I slammed on my brakes, so OBVIOUSLY I knew that I was wrong.  I wasn’t even anywhere CLOSE to you….why?  BECAUSE I ALREADY SLAMMED ON MY BRAKES LONG BEFORE YOU DECIDED TO WAKE UP THE DEAD WITH YOUR OBNOXIOUS CAR HORN!

Can you tell I don’t like being honked at?  I don’t know when it started, but I don’t ever remember a time when the sound of a horn didn’t scare the crap out of me and/or give me an anxiety attack.  I very rarely use my horn, but when I do, it’s because it’s warranted.  I use my horn when I need to get someone’s attention, i.e. they are about to come into my lane and don’t see me; they’re sitting at a green light excessively long (probably because they’re checking facebook on their phone), etc.  You get the point, but honestly, even if someone is lollygagging at a green light, I’m still reluctant to use my horn because I do not want to be the reason you had a heart attack while driving.  You might be thinking, “well what about when someone cuts you off?”  Let’s think about that for a minute, shall we?

I’d like to say I practice what I preach all the time, but I’m going to be honest and tell you I don’t always.  I would say 95% of the time, I won’t honk my horn, and here’s why:

When someone cuts you off, it scares you because you could foresee a really bad situation that you had no control over, right?  That fear then turns into anger, which prompts you to ferociously slam your hand on your horn and let it rip.  When you feel you’ve given the offender a good “talking” to via your horn, do you feel better?  Or do you have more anger and anxiety that you have to try and control while driving behind the offender for the next 15 miles?  Don’t you find it hard to calm down while staring at the offender’s bumper the whole time, wishing you could verbally vomit all over the driver?  Me too!  It’s just not worth it, so I’d rather take a few extra seconds to control myself in the moment I feel the urge to honk.

Now apparently my hatred for the horn has not gone unnoticed by my husband and son because when we are in the car together, they will both attempt to honk my horn for me to let someone know they have done wrong….which only gets my anxiety up even more because now I have to fight off their ferocious attempts to let someone “have it” with my horn WHILE I’M THE ONE DRIVING!  If their actions don’t bother me enough to warrant a honking of the horn, then as my passenger, shouldn’t they just sit back and be the passenger?  Oi!  By the way, they think it’s absolutely hysterical to get me all worked up like that while I’m driving.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that the car horn is meant to alert someone to danger; it is NOT your personal “F” You button! Be nice and drive with courtesy people!

OK, I’m off my rant for today!  Feel free to vent your frustrations too!  I can’t possibly be the only one, right?  🙂