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Thursday, July 30, 2009

a little unwell

This has not been a good week for me in terms of my health. Last Saturday I went hiking with my mom, sister and Paul and although I did wear sunscreen and a big floppy hat, being caught out in the summer sun with long stretches of no shade was just not a good idea. Since I actually didn't feel very sick while I was out there I was hoping it would be okay, but this week I've been noticing some mild arthritis which I haven't really had for months. I've also been having some mysterious pain in my left ribcage which radiates through to my back. Hoping that it's nothing more than gas/IBS since it's intermittent and never lasts more than a few minutes at a time. It has been bad enough that it woke me up once this week and some of the episodes have been painful enough that I've felt like throwing up. I also have a sinus infection that I can't seem to get rid of which has been giving me sinus headaches all week.

So because of all of this I've called in sick yesterday and today because I really don't want this to escalate into a full on flare. I'm hoping that if I just get some rest and try to take care of this I can nip it in the bud. My doctor has finally starting decreasing my meds in the hopes that I can be drug-free by the spring but I'm pretty sure if things flare up right now that will not happen. Which is really depressing. Because it will probably push being able to even start thinking about getting pregnant out into 2011 or beyond.

I'm just feeling really blech. I hate being sick in the summertime.


wingless was still breathing at 2:32 PM - 0 comments

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

giving midnight snack a new meaning

Reading through my posts lately, and the things I've felt like writing but haven't, I wonder, how the eff did I become this person? This total downer that's always complaining and thinking that as long as I throw in the caveat "I have a lot to be grateful but..." that it's okay to just rail about life?

When did this happen to me? Or wait, have I always been this grumpy? Paul and I have this running joke that we've become that grumpy old couple on the porch, shaking their fists at "those young kids at their loud music" way before our time. The mental image is funny, but it's not really a joke.

Last night I had this very clear dream. Like most dreams it didn't make a whole lot of sense, but reflecting on it this morning it's meaning seems obvious.

I was at my parents home, in my sister's room which has a walk-in closet and I wanted to take a shower. Naturally, the closet has a shower inside so I walk in and find a shower head amongst all my mom and sister's dresses. Naturally. Anyway, there was a cat that looked a lot like my cat sitting in a pile of clothes but even in my dream it didn't make sense to me that there was a cat there (the shower in the closet though? made perfect sense. go figure). I remember thinking it must be a hallucination so I reached out to pet the cat and it clamped down and bit my hand and wouldn't let go. I knew Paul was just outside the door so I started yelling for him to come help me and he rushed in and pried the cat off my hand. Then the cat disappeared and everything went fuzzy and I asked him what happened and he told me that I had been biting my own hand. I looked down and saw human bite marks, really deep impressions across the top of my hand.

At first I wondered if maybe Taz had actually bit me for some reason in the middle of the night. Then Paul said maybe it means I'm afraid of someone close to me betraying me because I love cats, which, I love him but...?

I'm going with a more literal interpretation...which is I had to rely on someone else to keep me from gnawing my own hand off. My subconscious is telling me to quit being so damn self-destructive.

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Monday, July 20, 2009


I was going to try to write something deep and meaningful, a recollection on my life and it's meaning. Undoubtedly to be topped with a cheery of "I would never have it any other way." And instead I don't now. Am I where I wanted to be? Am? I? Happy Birthday to me but let's write something logical at some point...maybe tomorrow...maybe not...

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wingless was still breathing at 7:49 PM - 2 comments

Sunday, July 19, 2009


Can we talk about this tomorrow?


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Wednesday, July 15, 2009


Last week I told Paul I felt like I was losing it. Mentally. Emotionally. In general. I was tired, exhausted and just sick of going about my daily activities.

He offered to cook me dinner, take me out on the town to cheer me up, forgo a trip to Costco since I didn't feel like it. And then he told me that it was okay, it was just my once a quarter funk.

What do you mean? I asked him.

Apparently I get depressed once a quarter. Gee, here I thought I was all moody and unpredictable and shit. Or at the very least, I figured he'd refer to it as my once a month funk, if you know what I mean. But no, he said it's definitely once a quarter.

The more I think about it, the more I think he might be right. But this time has been a bit different because it isn't going away. I've caught myself making mistakes at work, which drives me nuts because that's just not how I roll. I am ridiculously anal when it comes to my job and that's what makes me so good at it.

And then there's this cold I can't shake. I can't get the right amount of sleep where I don't feel tired, foggy and red-eyed all the time. I don't know what's wrong with me.

It's not about not having anything to do either. Oh Lord, do I have things to do. I have a nine to ten hour a day job. I have the CFA to study for - only 249 more hours to go (and yes, that's out of the recommended 250 hours). I am trying to learn VBA because go figure, programming is important if you want to get ahead in finance. I just ordered The Handbook of Fixed Income Securities because, you know, it just looks like it might be a thrilling read (yes that was sarcastic). Oh and I have this husband who likes to hang out with me from time to time too.

Maybe it's a blessing in disguise that I'm not medically cleared to start trying to get pregnant, because if I was I'm sure I'd pressure Paul into getting pregnant NOW and then I'd be screwed. Har har. Yeah. It's better this way.

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Tuesday, July 14, 2009


And I know a lot of Warriors fans out there might disagree with me - but I'd rather lose than have a tool like Kobe Bryant on my team.

Go dubs.


wingless was still breathing at 8:12 PM - 0 comments

dirty little secret

So let me lay it all out for you.

I like working in finance. As those of you who have known/read me for awhile know, I've gone through several different industries and was bored rather quickly with all of them. As lazy as I can be, I enjoy a challenge, I enjoy a constantly changing environment and learning something new every day.

When I was doing property management I would sit and ask the building engineers questions about the HVAC system all day long even though during high school and college I was bored to tears by physics. When I was recruiting in the sciences field I would spend most of my interview time asking the candidates about their research and techniques even though I fastidiously avoided any non-required science course in college. Those jobs just bored me to tears and I was searching for any bit of mental stimulation I could find.

So anyway, I like finance, almost enough to say I actually really like my job. I do, sort of. I like the exposure it gives me. I like the resources. I like being in a position to learn. But when I'm really honest with myself, I've been in this position for two years now and what with the events of last fall, at this point I'm kind of going backwards not forwards. I'm in a position to learn but don't really have the opportunity to be taught the things I want to know. I' surrounded by the best and the brightest and yet I'm not necessarily supposed to be asking them questions and soaking up their knowledge.

And I feel so guilty about complaining. I have a job. I got what has amounted to two raises and a promotion in less than six months. I am so blessed to be where I am. I know all this. And yet, I'm not exactly happy. Far from it to be honest.

Which, again, I feel I need to qualify by saying, I am so thankful to have my job and I am more than happy to stay where I am if the alternative is being unemployed. But what about a year from now? Two? Three? More? I don't know.

And with my 27th birthday coming up, it just...it weighs on me. And I hate that with the economy being what it is, I feel awful about saying and feeling this way, but I do. I keep telling myself to be content, to find peace in the fact that the Lord has a plan for me. And yet, I consider the fact that excellence so rarely coincides with contentment. People who excel are rarely content, which is why they excel. Ambition and inner peace don't necessarily go together do they? I'm afraid that if I convince myself to be Content that I will miss out on Opportunity. Whether or not this is true, I don't know.

I guess, at the end of the day, I just need to let go. To remind myself as ambitious as I am, or would like to be, I really don't ultimately have control of what happens to me. I'm trying to remind myself that despite all my ambition and restlessness, someone else is in control. And driving myself crazy won't change that.

Let go and let God.


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wingless was still breathing at 6:37 PM - 0 comments

Monday, July 13, 2009

in lieu of a post, a list

I was going to write some stuff about work but I'm not really sure what I want to say or how to say it without sounding like an ungrateful brat simply for the fact that I do still have a job and a pretty good one at that. So we'll leave that for another day and for now, some random thoughts I had today...

1. Why does my cat always smell so wonderfully clean and like she just had a bath even though she washes herself with her own spit?

2. My dad performed at a farmer's market here in the city yesterday and brought us a bunch of fresh (and free!) fruit from the vendors. Including some raspberries. I ate three quarters of the basket before finding a small white worm crawling on top of one, after which I promptly threw the rest away. Now I have that song stuck in my head, nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I'll eat some worms. Sigh. I'm pretty sure it's in my head but I feel things crawling around inside me. It probably doesn't help that I've been watching that new Animal Planet show about parasites.

3. For months now I've been feeling completely exhausted. I seem to sleep both too much (on the weekends) and too little (weekdays). I don't do well with coffee (I hate that jittery feeling and it gives me stomach aches), I've tried tea but I'm not sure it's really doing anything.

4. I think I actually want to watch the new Harry Potter movie in theaters. And I hate theaters. And crowds. And going out in general. So that's really something.

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Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Two years

This probably won't come as a huge shock to the people who know me, but I'm no picnic to live with.

I've been known to cook food so inedible that my own mother won't eat it. I'm a tiny bit more competent when it comes to housekeeping but that really isn't saying much. And I tend to fall into these long funks where I can barely bring myself to take a shower (I do, but it's more out of necessity, i.e. not wanting my coworkers to wonder what that smell is), nevermind wiping down the coffee table or making the bed.

I do, however, change the cat litter. Most days. So that's something.

My husband cooks, and he doesn't just cook, he makes gourmet meals. My family members are always extra excited when Paul is slated to make something for a potluck event because they know they are going to be treated to something awesome. Like meatballs made from scratch. Or prime rib slow roasted in a giant salt crust. And even after a long day of work he will come home and cook me anything my heart desires, even if it's just a bowl of ramen with a fried egg and lime squeezed over it. Paul doesn't know how to half-ass anything, not even ramen.

He wakes up at 5am to drive me to work (even though he doesn't have to be up until 7am) and has been known to wipe my cat's poopy butt. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

But more importantly, after five years we can still talk all night. We talk about anything and everything. About our current life, about our future children, about politics and current events, about work and the financial world in general, about basketball. We agree most of the time, but even when we don't we have fun talking about it (Lakers, we will never agree on the Lakers).

I have never been happier in my life and I honestly can't imagine being happier. I can't imagine being with someone who suits me better. I can't imagine a better man even exists. I wake up every day feeling indescribably lucky to be married to the best person I know.

And somehow, he has officially survived two years of being married to me. So cheers to him and many, many more years.


wingless was still breathing at 3:52 PM - 0 comments

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