Housekeeping

Hey guys! Remember me? . . . . . . . (mumble, mumble) . . . . yeah, me neither.

So it's been a good length of time since I've visited and I'm sure your faith of me returning and actually writing something worthwhile has withered and died by now. I know mine did. Even now, after poking around for a bit, I feel like a stranger here. What am I doing? I don't really know, but what I do know is that some serious housekeeping needs to happen. I fantasized that I could just plow on, pick up where I left off, act as if the most tremendous life-changing year of my life hadn't just occurred . . . . . but then I logged on and realized it wouldn't be possible. The difference in me between twelve months ago and now, or maybe six, no, even three months ago and now is much too drastic for me to ignore.

Upon this realization, I considered being done with blogging altogether. Time and energy seem to be in short supply these days and both are needed for me to create worthwhile blog posts. Ending all blogging seemed the logical conclusion to that chapter of my life. But then it occurred to me that I had so much I wanted to share, to document, so much I didn't want to forget. That was my original purpose in starting a blog over two years ago: capturing the moments in our lives that we want to hold on to or the ones we don't, but should. This past year has provided plenty of both.

So I've decided that I will continue blogging and hopefully be able to express effectively the experiences I'd like to share, but I think it's going to take more than just some serious housekeeping. I think it's going to take a whole new house. I'm currently shopping for a new location and again, patience is key here. There are some items that, while I really dislike their placement, fall a couple steps ahead of writing for enjoyment on the priorities list. Like writing essays for school. Oh yeah, failed to mention I'm taking college courses didn't I? Ah well, there I go with yet another experience to share for yet another time.

I think I'm taking one step forward, two steps back.

Some Day . . . . .

Some day, I promise, I will return to regular posting. I'm dealing with a lot right now and I haven't quite figured out how to divvy my creative juices between my schoolwork and my blog. Most of my writing has been going into my English essays and personal journal. But I do miss this little spot of mine. Hopefully as I pursue classes to expand my writing skills, I'll be able to come back here with much more to offer.

Taxing

Sales tax was raised in the state of Nevada to 8.1% and it's all sorts of messing me up! I used to be able to tell a customer their grand total without having to punch digits into the Point of Sale. Now I'm dealing with weird amounts and numbers. A product priced at $19.99 has always been $21.54. THAT'S JUST THE WAY IT IS! But the computer keeps telling me that it's $21.61 and that combination of numbers seems so strange and foreign to me.

Everybody else is mad because more money is coming out of their pockets towards sales tax. Me, I'm upset because I want my dependable totals back!

Giddy

Concentration is not my forte today. What's strange is the culprit isn't one of the usual suspects in the line up. I'm not tired, in pain, grouchy, sad, hungry, or stressed. No, no the bug I've caught is radically different indeed. My condition subtly began this morning and, as the day has worn on, intensified. I've developed Sudden Lack of Concentration Due to Acute Giddiness. GIDDINESS I TELL YOU! While helping a customer, another employee in fact, I attempted to explain a product and instead laughed. Well, it started more as a chuckle really and grew from there into full-blown belly laughs rendering me unable to form coherent sentences. What was so funny you ask? I DON'T KNOW! That's why I'm convinced that I must be suffering from some unseen condition. Normal, sane people don't laugh uncontrollably while telling a customer what size batteries they need for the universal remote they're purchasing. Something of a humorous nature should proceed such bouts of laughter. Things like a joke, an extra funny episode of The Office, someone clumsily tripping over their own feet and sending themselves sprawling all over the sidewalk. Oh come on guys, you know that crap is FUNNY, unless of course the individual receives the senior discount and may not recover so well from such a fall.

I had a spill of my own yesterday afternoon stepping down from a step ladder sideways. I tried to plant my left foot on the ground so my right foot could then follow suit, but somehow my left shoe developed an intense attraction to the grippy rubber of the step and the small suit-clad man in charge of my reflexes failed to get the memo to my right foot in time. Must've been the end of his shift. I'm going to have to call a productivity meeting with the management. Anyway, moving on. My right foot came down whilst the left was still engaged which then caused a complete loss of balance resulting in my body flying sideways off the step ladder and ending with my head wedged up against the wall, my left arm twisted awkwardly underneath my body and a bright red rug-burn gracing my left shin. I had so much momentum I ACTUALLY SLID across the carpet and into the wall WITH MY HEAD! Where's the scoring sheet?! 10 POINTS FOR BRITTANY! My mother had been facing the opposite direction and had only caught the tail-end of my grand performance. Being a mother, she rushed over alarmed asking what happened and if I was all right. All I could do was lay there battered and laughing. "Mom, I'm sorry you missed it. It was a good one." Yeah it hurt, but man, if I could've seen it! I'm certain I would've been on the floor laughing till my abs protested. Well I guess I was doing that anyway, but with the company of some sore body parts and the mental video of how the fall would've looked to the casual passerby not expecting such a gift to be dropped into their lap. We got to keep 'em young and if somebody has to biff it now and again so others can have a good laugh, then so be it, but I digress.

Where was I? Oh yes, the laughing and the giddiness and the absence of focus. Since the whole universal remote episode I've been smiling annoyingly big goofy grins and chuckling to myself for no reason. I'm having a hard time not busting up every time some unsuspecting soul walks through the door. Thankfully it hasn't been very busy today. I already have at least five people musing that I'm totally nutso, or at the very least unhinged. I'd like to keep that list relatively short. I'm not quite sure where this giddiness is coming from, but I hope it doesn't last too long because while I'm having a great time and all, it is interfering A LOT with my focus. I can't seem to stay on task or remember what I was saying. You don't think yesterday's fall and hitting my head has something to do with it do you?

Crowns Are Overrated Anyway

Conversation with my boss's seven year old son, Rylin.


"Hey Brittany, TRY AND CATCH ME!" (bouncing side to side)

"But you know I can't catch you when you're wearing your lightning socks."

"That's true, but you could still try."

"I think I'll just sit on my stool instead."

"That's not your stool anymore, (quickly snatching the stool as he runs past) it's my THRONE!"

"Your throne? I'm the one who's been sitting on it all morning. When did you become the king?"

"I've always been the king and this is my throne now. Besides, you don't have a crown."

"Well, I don't always wear it, (quickly looking for something that could be a makeshift crown) but that doesn't mean I don't have one. What about you? Where's your crown?"

"I don't wear a crown. I WEAR AWESOMENESS!"

And We're Back . . . .

. . . . But not quite as you expected. Are you wondering where the posts and pictures of paradise are? Yeah well, I don't have any you see, because I never got on that plane. I'm still residing in the blazing heat of the Nevada desert hundreds of miles away from the man I love. Why? That's a lengthy story made up of a whole bunch of shorter stories that I'm not going to get into because it's exhausting just thinking about it all. I'll sum it up by saying that a subpoena was involved (don't worry, I'm not the one in trouble), along with some medical junk, and those pesky complication elves sprinkling stress and confusion into various aspects of my life and well, complicating matters. But fear not, I AM FINE. No need for worry or alarm. I will still be moving to Dominica, but on a slightly revised timeline. My flight has been rescheduled to lift off on Thursday, August 20th. Some days it looms so far in the distance it's hard to see, but nearly three weeks have passed since my previously anticipated departure date. What's seven more? Of course it's not the most savory of circumstances, but like Mr. Oden always says in response to plans gone awry, "In a hundred years, it won't matter. Nobody will remember." You know, he's probably right. If I indeed live to be 124 I probably won't remember . . . or be able to see, hear, or even move for that matter.

A happy foot note is that I will be arriving Gary's last day of the semester in which he'll be granted a two week break before fall semester starts up. It's not much, but it should give him a chance to come up for air from the relentless class, exams, and studying. He claims that he's studied more in the last two months than he ever did during his undergrad. I believe it because he didn't have to study much for his undergrad classes. He retains well, but I'm sure with the massive amounts of information being thrown at him in medical school that the only way to stay above water is to study. A lot. My phone rang at 1:00 in the morning the other night. It was Gary walking home from campus. Keep in mind the time change. If it was 1:00 in the morning in Nevada, then it was 4:00 in the morning in Dominica. FOUR O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING AND HE'S WALKING HOME FROM STUDYING AND HE HAS TO BE IN CLASS BY 8:00. Amazing. I can't imagine that he's been eating much better than top ramen and mac n' cheese these past weeks either. Living with my parents I haven't had to cook much and I'm finding that I really miss cooking for my husband. Weird, right?

Ignoring the need for a transition, has anybody else noticed how beautiful the sky has been the past two weeks with all those amazing clouds?

I love clouds.

I love lamp.


Oh yeah, Happy 4th of July! I suppose I should have written something patriotic and thought-provoking. Eh, Happy 4th will have to do. I'm going to go eat some watermelon until I get a tummy ache now.

Growing Pains

I know. I KNOW. I completely abandoned any and all blogs and I'm quickly gaining on four weeks which would be a perfectly acceptable amount if my life were filled with boring nothings and drivel. As it is I'm suffering from quite the opposite. SOOOOO much has been going on that the blog has been nothing more than a distant memory from a past life. It's a strange feeling to think back four months ago to what was once my life. FOUR months?! Is that all it's been? It feels like years. And yet parallel to that is the conflicting sense that only a mere two weeks have passed and here I am preparing to fly away to another country in a couple of weeks. I leave for Dominica on the 16th. Let me repeat that: I WILL BE LIVING IN ANOTHER COUNTRY IN TWO WEEKS. A moment of silence in honor of the awesomeness of it all. Ok not really, I was just trying to contain a potential freak out, but I digress.

Four months ago I flipped through Pottery Barn magazines dreaming of coffee tables and conversation pieces, thinking color, lighting, and mood. Four months ago I made the bed on a regular basis. Four months ago Gary and I played World of Warcraft together on Tuesday afternoons. Four months ago my husband and I lived in a small, but beautiful apartment we called home surrounded by things and people we love. We dreamed of the future and the possibilities it held. Then the future came sooner than expected and knocked us flat. Ross University was one possibility unaccounted for.

Now instead of Pottery Barn magazines I listen for the ding on my laptop announcing the newly posted gear sale on Steep and Cheap. My bed has been taken apart, packed neatly and been placed into storage. I've slept on a variety of beds and surfaces these past weeks. World of Warcraft hasn't even been installed on my new laptop yet. The days have been filled with last minute doctor appointments, Dominican visa applications, phone calls, and endless errands. I've been stock piling odds and ends so well that I could rival the most faithfully prepared Relief Society sisters. Clothing needs have been based less on fashion and eye appeal and more on comfort and breathability. I am now homeless. The apartment is empty and echoey with nothing left but dust bunnies in the corners. Our (too)MANY belongings have been shoved, stacked, and wedged precariously into a small storage room. And even though that process has been going on for the past month and I'm now eating and sleeping at my parent's house, I've been homeless for some time now. My home disappeared with the departure of my husband six weeks ago.

I thought I was prepared. I convinced myself that I could handle it.

How very silly of me.

I've learned a lot these past six weeks and let me tell ya, the growing pains have been acute and unpleasant. I don't believe many people can be prepared for their security and safety net to be ripped from under them. You inevitably fall. HARD. At least the first time anyway. The subsequent falls still hurt but hopefully not as bad because you're learning how to fall, how to catch yourself, how to get back up. I won't lie, some days I want to just stay on the ground beat and broken. I feel hopeless and empty. It requires digging a little deeper inside myself to fan the fire of determination. The determination to fight for what I really, truly want. What I need. A fight that is wholly worth it.

I want to be home again.