The power of lavender oil

I'm confused. If you know me, you might be surprised, or not. In actuality, I spend a lot of my time these days being confused. For instance, I ponder how much litter my new litter box requires, why we serve great food at affordable prices with outstanding customer service at Carmella's Casa Italiana yet the numbers are in the red zone, why my cats get along with the cockatiels but not with each other, why Jiggy remains stressed and restarted the inappropriate urination, what to do with my excess furniture now that I bought new furniture, why my supervisor dislikes me most of the time and makes my life miserable at work, why the techs in the cardiac cath lab think it's acceptable to tell multiple nurses and thus nurses not involved in a case to get medications for the patient in the case they are monitoring, why does everything have to be "Made in China," why John Graham-Cumming says not to set a goal to blog everyday and Seth Godin says to blog everyday, why my ex-husband despises me, why my mother remarried, why one dessert rose bloomed all summer and the other one doesn't even have one bud, why the people who read my blog don't follow it, why my daughter poisons the minds of her twins against me, why some people married to exceptionally good people do stupid things that threaten their marriage, why the good die young, why All My Children (AMC) had to end, and on and on. Now I'm getting depressed.

 

Let's take that last area of confusion. I've been watching AMC for many years, too many years to mention. In the beginning, I watched it live, then I recorded it on tapes, and over the last few years, I used my DVR. Why did it have to end? That's what I watch at night while I'm unwinding and trying to go to sleep. This would be after my prayers, which typically don't take very long. I pray for my family, friends, business, pets, dearly departed, world peace, and for lots of money. I wrap up the praying in a few minutes. Then I tune the DVR to AMC and typically fall asleep before it's over. Since I set the television timer for 2315, I don't even have to wake up to turn off the TV.

So now that the last episode aired on Friday, September 23, what the heck am I going to watch to fall asleep? Several nights ago I sent a text to my Connecticut sister telling her the last episode was airing on Friday. She responded, "I stopped watching in 1999." I told her I know that, I just thought that as an ex-fan we could commiserate.

Deb, my other sister, watches Dr. Oz all the time and loves the show. I wonder if  recording Dr. Oz is an option. Could I conceivably fall asleep to his show? Would I be plagued with guilt over the few unhealthy aspects of my lifestyle? For instance, I discovered sea salt and now I salt all my food. Well, not my pasta or pizza, just the chicken, corn, and stuffing. Would the guilt keep me awake? Would I then suffer an exacerbation of my insomnia? I fall asleep to Erica and all the other misfits in Pine Valley, but I don't stay asleep.  I sure as heck don't want both problems: staying sleep and falling asleep.

One of the things that keeps me awake is the inappropriate urination (by Jiggy) and cat fights. During a fitful night's sleep, it occurred to me to buy lavender oil, chamomile calm for kids, and a new litter box. I put the new litter box and a pad soaked with lavender oil in the hall where the inappropriate urination occurs. I put the chamomile calm in their wet food that I feed them in the morning. Let's see what happens. I'll keep you posted if the problem is solved. Now I'll ponder if you even care if the problem is solved.

If that problem is solved, will my insomnia be cured? Hmmmmmm, probably not, because there are still all those other areas of confusion, like why my ex-husband despises me and is there any chance he'll come to Florida and do some home repairs for me. Right, I know, dream on, and stop losing sleep over that! Plus, as if that's not bad enough, the lavender oil is lolling Ralph into a state of peace and serenity and it's putting him to sleep at odd moments, like right before he has to leave for work. OK, that's a gross exaggeration of the truth!

So, should I put the lavender oil in my room, and if I do, will I be able to wake up for work? What do you think?

Change your underwear everyday

It's a typical Sunday, the day of rest; you know, when I do laundry, cleaning, litter boxes, bird cages, and other assorted activities that I don't get to do during the week. It's also the day I make Finnish Pancakes for Ralph and me. This is our traditional Sunday breakfast. When we have company and I make it for the company, it's always a big sensation. Sometimes I make it when I'm on vacation and staying at Lester and Ani's house. It's a hit with the adults, but not so much with the kids. One would think that kids would love anything with fruit and whipped cream on the top, but that is not the case.

After about two years of making it, I had the recipe perfected. Then I don't know what happened. We had a few weeks when it was just mediocre. Once again it's a triumph!

Finnish Pancake: add honey, sliced peaches, whipped cream, & it's ready to serve & eat!

Took another 20.3 mile bike ride yesterday. What glorious fun! Ran out of water at about 10 miles, but I managed to complete the ride without daydreaming about drinking water from people's hoses or knocking on the doors of strangers begging for water. There's a little bar at Longwood Run Athletic Club that advertises $1.00 beer, but I never have any money with me. Not sure I really want to drink beer then continue my journey home. On another note, I didn't run into any seniors decked out in their cranky pants walking their dogs telling me to go ride in the street. I did, however, experience the weavers and creepers in the one area where I do ride in the bicycle lane. I hate when I'm invisible!

 

                     Serenity in The Meadows              Narrow bridge that's fun to ride over

It's fun riding 20 miles, and I suspect at some point, barring time constraints, I'll ride 25 miles. I experience a host of things on a 20 mile ride. Midway through the ride, my thighs start to ache, but that only lasts for about a mile or two. At around 10-16 miles, if I run out of water and it's very hot, I start to feel delirious and on the verge of heat/sun stroke. That doesn't happen often because lately I have been going out in the latter part of the afternoon. At about 18 miles, my butt starts to feel really bony. This is weird, because I don't have a bony butt. Then, I start to feel the elastic of my underwear digging into my cheeks leaving what I am sure will be a permanent imprint. Doesn't matter which underwear I have on, either. Actually, I found  about 15 pairs of another style of underwear. I'll try a pair of those on my next ride, which I hope occurs later today.

                    Looks like a very comfy seat, and it is, but only until about 18 miles.

And speaking of underwear, when you were a little kid, did your mother tell you to be sure to change your underwear everyday in case you had to go to the hospital? What the heck was that all about? If anything, that made me not to want to change them, then I could say, "I didn't change my underwear, so I'm not going to the hospital today." I feared doctors and hated hospitals. The thought of having to get undressed in front of strangers in the doctor's office or hospital haunted my youth. 

Don't worry, I didn't need that threat, but it did make me ponder why the nurses and doctors would be checking out my underwear and why they would even need to see them. I was painfully shy as a child, so that statement was especially traumatic for me. I'm not sure I understand why my mother wanted to scare me like that. She did the laundry. She had to know I was changing them everyday. She also had to know when they got holes in them and I needed new ones. I didn't have money and I didn't go shopping by myself. She was in charge of that. Yes, I wore holey underwear much longer than was necessary. That must be why I now have about 50 pairs of underwear. 

I see lots of underwear in the cath lab. Patients are not supposed to come to the cath lab in their underwear. Somehow, though, many patients fall through the cracks and arrive in their underwear and sometimes even in their shorts, pants, shirts, bras, and whatnot. Once, a patient came through the ER to the cath lab during winter in his coat. Really? It would seem pretty basic that someone somewhere would remove the coat in the transfer from the ER to the cath Lab. 

It's not that the nurses and doctors want to look at your underwear or you in your underwear, but in certain areas of the hospital, if they are on, we have to take them off. For what it's worth, lots of people missed the threat from their mothers about the underwear. So, this is your mother speaking to you now, "Change your underwear everyday in case you have to go to the hospital." I hope this doesn't traumatize you, but someone had to say it. You know who you are. And if you're coming to the cath lab, take them off, then I'll never know if they were changed or not!

It's a curse seeing both sides of the coin

My life has been a dizzy array of coronary arteries (some of them blocked), Italian food (as in the restaurant), biking, birds, cats, and dogs. Wait...I don't have any dogs, that's my Connecticut sister. (Her family pet just gave birth to six puppies --> don't delay, spay your pets!) Can't even refer to raining cats and dogs, because there's been no rain for a week. Anyway, in other words, the cath lab has been busy and I've been racking up the hours. In fact, two weeks ago I offered to take the Friday night call of a co-worker who was feeling about 50%. When the supervisor found out about the switch, she hunted me down and said, "Oh no, that's not going to work. You're already on over time." 'Over time'. She said it like it was a bad thing. I dream of over time. I live for over time. After all, I am trying to pay off the restaurant loan in four or five years... So now I'm thinking of the loan, which means I own a restaurant, which means I'm a business owner, which means I know OVER TIME is a bad thing. Hmmmmm, I see her side. God, I hate when that happens! It sure isn't easy to be a business owner in one arena and an employee in another arena. Well, no one ever said it would be easy.

Ralph and Deb have been promoting some new specials at the restaurant and all of them are hits. We are also promoting Pajama Parties, Hospitality Night, and Wacky Wednesday. No, Wednesday isn't wacky because the guys are running the show since it's Deb's day off. Stop in and see what it's all about! (If you order the Trash Pizza, Redd will give you his autograph.)

I had some fantastic 20 mile bike rides lately. It's so amazing, even the weather has been cooperative. On one of my rides, I discovered the reason for the playscape at the professional building parking lot is because they also house a pre-school, which is now open. I still haven't seen any pre-schoolers, but perhaps they are there earlier in the day. On another ride, I almost ran into a very old lady with her dog. I stopped and kindly told her I didn't want to get tangled up with her and her dog. She was quick to lash out and tell me I should be riding in the bike lane in the street. I smiled, waved, and thanked her as I rode away. I should be doing a lot of things, but riding in the street in that area is not one of them. Too many weavers and creepers have almost taken me out in the bike lane. Let's face it, I want to live and a bicycle crash would be really messy. (Closed casket, broken bones, deformed corpse, you get my drift......yes, sick nursing humor.) Plus I'm sure my kids don't want me to die before I pay off the restaurant loan that I mentioned above. 

  

                    Feral kitten                              Setting sun at the end of one of my rides.                                   

I just don't know if the old people are more of a menace on foot or behind the wheel. I know the seniors own the roads, the supermarket aisles, the best parking spots, the front of lines, the best seats in theaters and restaurants, etc. Do they really have to also own the sidewalks? Why can't we share? Why can't we all just get along?

Speaking of seniors, while I was out biking I found the gracious retirement living facility of my dreams. I told Ralph about it and he asked if he could admit me now. No, I'm not ready to go now. Then I pondered how he would manage the plants, yard, gardening, birds, cats, litter boxes, hair balls, feathers, feeding times, etc, in my absence. I told him when I leave I'll take my bike and ride over here once a week to see how he's doing. He pondered all those activities and promptly said he'd be moving out too. Yeah, maybe, but I don't know where he could possibly go with all those pets.

 

Gracious retirement living facility.

Can't say that I saw a beach anywhere. I guess they figure we'd be too old to notice.

I bought new living room furniture, which means I had to get rid of the set I bought circa 1985, when I was a new nurse and started actually having money. It was hard seeing that set on the curb for trash pick up. It served me, and the pets, well over the years. In fact, if Kiki hadn't destroyed it, I would probably still have it. As mentioned in an earlier blog, I form these strong attachments to my stuff. I should get over it. (There's that 'should' word again.) Now I have remodeling and rearranging to do. Not right now though, I think I hear my bike calling me.

                               The carpet will be the first thing to go! That's Gypsy.

Just let it go

Yesterday, Saturday, I had the most fabulous 18.7 mile bike ride of my entire adult biking career. I discovered the Fit Trail in The Meadows and that made the ride absolutely epic! I don't know why it took me 8 months to venture that far from home, but it was worth it. There was no threat of rain so that was probably why I took the plunge. The path weaves for about two miles through trees, over bridges, around lakes, and by the Bird Sanctuary and Botanical Gardens. OMG, it's a magnificent ride!

 

Along The Meadows Fit Trail

I still remember my first ride on January 16, 2011. I was out for 40 minutes and when I came home, I could barely make it to the sofa because my legs felt like jelly. I thought I rode six miles, but it was only three! I don't get those jelly feelings in my legs any more, but I think my thighs started to feel something around the 18 mile mark. That's no big thing because it quickly passed.

While I was out, I went to the playscape area. They have this new No Trespassing sign posted. First the chain link fence cutting me off from the basketball court, and now the sign. Starting to get paranoid. I'm a trespasser from way back. (Remember when I went to the plant thief's home looking for my plants and yard ornaments? Her spouse or son or whoever he was, threatened to call the police as I made my way along his side yard to the back yard. I should have let him call, then the police could have sorted it all out and I could let it go.) Anyway, not long after I left the playscape parking lot, a helicopter was circling. Were they looking for me, Toxic Trespasser? If they were, they didn't find me!

 

No Trespassing sign                                   Helicopter

Few people were out on the paths; however, coming home there were two teens headed east while I was traveling west. The path is wide enough for two bikers to pass each other, but I guess we were playing chicken because the boys stayed in the middle. Since I'm riding the Nirve with the glamorous pink bell, removable wicker basket, and the miniest of laptops, the Cateye cyclocomputer, I had more to lose, so I rode off into the grass and let them pass. I learned several weeks ago that I could ride in the grass. There's minimal traction, but it's doable. Besides which, the prospect of scraped knees and elbows was not exactly appealing. 

When I was a teenager, all those scars on my knees from bike falls were the blight of my life. I can't even imagine why I was falling. I certainly wasn't doing anything tricky or fancy. The most daring thing I did on my bike was ride with no hands down 4th Avenue. Little did I know then that those scars on my knees were nothing compared to what I would have to worry about as I got older, e.g., saggy butt, flabby arms, gray hair, and turkey neck. Actually, I don't even have those worries. Biking takes care of the butt, weight lifting takes care of the arms, my hair has very minimal gray, and eventually when I'm up for it, there's the Lifestyle Lift for the face and neck. So, no worries!

Wish there was a kid somewhere whom I could encourage to let go of all those crazy notions we get in our heads about our bodies. Or perhaps there's an adult somewhere. If you can do something about whatever it is about your self-image that is causing unrest, just do it. Otherwise, let it go. Life is too short...way too short. Remember 9/11? Of course you do. Things can be over in an instant. Just let it go.

It's all about Philly Cheese Steaks as I look to the sky

This morning I awoke with the glorious sun shining through my bedroom window.  That means several things. I'm not on call so I can sleep as late as I want. The cats were calm and not scratching and crying at my bedroom door. I don't have curtains on my bedroom windows. My room is on the second floor, so that last doesn't much matter. Thank you, God, for giving me another day and it's sure great to be alive.

The cardiac cath lab at MMH was so busy this week, especially on Friday. We started the day running four rooms and I never had a chance to make coffee. My mornings are hectic at the house and there's always a time crunch, what with dressing, make-up, cats, birds, hairballs, puke, litter boxes, breakfast, bank runs, etc. There just isn't enough time to make and enjoy a cup of coffee, so I do that at the hospital. On Friday, there was no time to go over to the EP Lab and get the cup of coffee. Our secretary, who is extremely efficient and ensures things run smoothly, offered to go over and get the coffee for me. I took her up on the offer, and I'm still grateful that she noticed I never had a chance to go over to get it and that she did it for me. When they say "It's the little things that count," this is what they mean. Please don't ask me who "they" are.

Carmella's Casa Italiana did a bang up business last night too. It was almost like "season." We had a couple return yesterday evening who found us on their GPS two months ago. Their GPS was stolen, but the wife was confident she could find us again. They loved everything the last time, thus they returned. They loved everything again. There was also a couple who drove in from Myakka. Our reputation is spreading by leaps and bounds. The last customers of the night did a take-out order. After they went home and enjoyed the food, they called Deb to say, "Everything was awesome, absolutely awesome. I just had to call and tell you that!" And we think it's awesome that you called, and that the Melbourne couple came back, and that the Myakka people drove in, and that Frank and his family were there. Repeat customers are awesome and the relationships we build with them are the foundation of our success. Thank you one and all!

This is weird. Brian, a frequent customer, came in last night and ordered a Philly Cheese Steak Pizza. Another couple ordered Philly Cheese Steak subs with their pizza and wings. Not long after that, Ed, another frequent customer, came in and ordered a Philly Cheese Steak Calzone. When the customer sitting to his left saw the Philly Cheese Steak Calzone, he wanted to change his calzone order. His calzone was already in the oven, so he said he would wait until next time. Then the last call that I took of the night was from a woman wanting to know if we had Philly Cheese Steak Stromboli. Yes, we do. We can make Philly Cheese Steak Anything you want! Plus, we probably make it better than they do in Philly!!

Ed's Philly Cheese Steak Calzone

I hope you are having a magnificent weekend. I'm off on a 16 mile or so bike ride. The sun is shining and I do not see any rain clouds.....of course, I have selective vision, so it's hard to say what's really out there in the skies. To me, they look blue and cloudless.

That's the road I take out of the subdivision. I'm pretty sure the puffy white stuff is either Lucy in the sky with diamonds or cotton candy. What do you think?

We'll rise to the occasion

I was on call for the long holiday weekend, including the holiday. It's a fallacy that the cath lab on call team is on call for emergencies. We are on call for whatever a doctor wants to do, whenever he wants to do it. Frankly, I have no problem with that. The patients and their families are so grateful and the doctors are so accommodating and cordial, that it's hard not to say to God during my nightly prayers, "Please God, let me be called in to work!" There was a short period when I went into panic mode when I realized my pager no longer worked. It's all good. I simply called the operator and told him he needs to contact me by cell or house phone. He made a note of it and all the call ins went very smoothly.

Due to the rainy weather and all the on call time, I haven't been riding. September 1 was the last time I had an opportunity to go. This week, it was raining on the two days I wasn't on call, and by the time the rain stopped and it dried up a bit, my get up and go got up and went. Oh, such is life!

I customized my wheels. When I got the bike back from the Village Bike Shop, the rear tire was missing a valve cap. I could have purchased a valve cap for a few dollars, but I did a net search to find something fun. And I sure enough did indeed find something fun. The set cost about as much as dinner for two plus a tip and possibly dessert at Carmella's Casa Italiana, you know, my restaurant. They will last forever, so what's a little splurging?

How could I resist?!?!

Speaking of dessert, I bought this new flavor of ice cream from Blue Bell called "Dessert Trio." I have to tell you, my main motivation for going grocery shopping this past Saturday was because ice cream was on sale at Albertson's. Tried to get Ralph to go with me, but he wasn't into in. I could have forced the issue, but I just ran in after I left MMH on Saturday when I was on my way home. 

In any event, I don't eat ice cream every night, so as it went, Ralph got to try the "Dessert Trio" first. Around the beginning of the week, he said, "Oh, that new ice cream is my favorite, wait until you try it!" I bought three half gallons, so I asked him which one. He easily responded, "Three deserts." My mouth dropped open and I asked him to repeat it.  He repeated, "Three deserts." So I said, "Three deserts? Hmmm, like the Mohave Desert and two other deserts I can't think of? Maybe like my desert roses?" I laughed and teased him, "You are soooooo retarded! That's three desserts, not three deserts! What is wrong with you??" 

Ralph doesn't talk much or initiate many conversations, but once in a while he's a real hoot. I must say, though, that ice cream is too good to be true. If I wasn't watching my cholesterol, I would eat it every night. As it is, I ate it for dinner last night!

Thank you for the tons of supportive and reassuring emails telling me that I'm not crazy. Everyone agreed that taking tons of call doesn't make me crazy. Nor does talking to myself. Or getting attached to my clothes which makes it hard for me to donate them to charity. Or giving blood when it makes me have near syncopal episodes. Or thinking I must be invisible when drivers cut in front of me and then drive slow. Or imagining that I can fly under the radar in the cath lab. Or taking hot showers in the summer time. Or wearing three shirts to the hospital. Or eating Finnish pancakes with whipped cream everyday for breakfast. Or eating cereal or Greek yogurt everyday for lunch. Or sleeping with a loaded 9mm under my pillow. Thanks again! Suddenly my heart sings, and I feel sane. Now, if that devil who makes me curse would just get the heck off my shoulder, I'd be good to go.

We survived that horrible storm the other night. I was huddled, I mean cuddled, in my bed, watching and listening to the loudest thunder and brightest lightening that I have ever seen or heard. I kept thinking, "This must be what my sister felt like during Hurricane Irene." I swear, I felt the earth move under my feet. Wait, I'm getting mixed up; that happened when I met my ex-husband. What I actually felt was my whole entire house rumble and  shake. It was like something out of a Stephen King novel. Glad it didn't last very long. I wondered if Ralph and my cats and birds were OK. I didn't hear any noise coming through my bedroom door from them, so I assumed they were fine. 

Look, wild horses don't drag me out of bed in the middle of the night. And all that crap about if you are in bed and can't sleep, get out of bed and go read a book elsewhere, is just that: crap. I refuse to get out of bed and will lie there all night until the sun comes up, or the alarm goes off, which ever happens first. I'll watch TV, read a book, files my nails, plan my day, devise creative tortures for horrible bosses, imagine what it's like to be a billionaire, day dream of my perfect vacation, and on and on. No wonder I can't sleep. Maybe I am crazy.......

My Connecticut sister is staying safe and strong in the aftermath of Irene.  We are in contact on a daily basis. In fact, I told her about my experience with our storm. We agreed, life is good; and when it's not, we'll rise to the occasion.

Before sunrise, September 7

"Crazy" neighbor or sabotage

I'm on call for MMH this long holiday weekend. We got called in this morning after I had a great night's sleep. When I walked outside of my house to leave for the hospital, the world was bathed in the golden glow of the pre-sunrise. That alone was worth getting out of bed.

The sun had already risen by the time I got to MMH, and although I didn't have time to photograph it, I still got to enjoy it shining over the water of the Manatee River. What a great day! We did a left heart cath and PTCA with two stents. When it was all over, we took the patient to CCU. One of the nurse's had on his cranky pants; but after such a beautiful start to the day and saving a life, I refused to allow him to harsh my mellow. Plus, I chalked off the nasty attitude to a manifestation of fear and insecurity about his ability to adequately care for the patient. There was another nurse, a woman. I'm sure she'll help him out!

I took a 16.16 mile bike ride on Thursday. All this call time is definitely interfering with my riding. Anyway, I had a wonderful ride that took about 1 3/4 hours. Since I didn't get caught in any rain storms, I figured I was on the bonus plan.

The playscape construction at the professional building parking lot is completed. Unfortunately for me, that little area they created totally cuts me off from riding around the basketball court. I'll just have to make some other spot my favorite place to ride. After all, 16.16 miles covers a lot of territory, so I should be able to find something. I will miss riding around the court, though.

You'll notice that black chain link fence. What exactly is that supposed to do? When my Connecticut sister was little and we lived at the Curve Inn in Connaughtown, my parents had a chain link fence area sectioned off in the back of the bar parking lot to contain her. I think she was contained in there for a total of five minutes. I don't know if she climbed over the top or just lifted the latch on the gate. Whatever she did, she got out. She wasn't hurt, and I don't remember what their Plan B was to keep her safe. In any event, I hope the professional building people have better luck. Oh, I have yet to see anyone put this area to use. It's always vacant.

The Sperlunto 4th Year Family Reunion will take place at my cousin Jackie's house in Pennsylvania on September 25. My mother and sister, Deborah, are planning to fly up for the occasion. Since Deb is going, Ralph and Tim will take on extra hours at the restaurant to ensure things run smoothly. My Connecticut sister will drive down. I'm not going. I went to the 2nd and 3rd year reunions.

   This is a partial group shot. The 2010 reunion was held at my cousins' house, La and Don.

My sisters and I thought it would be fun for my mother to go, so we've been working on the necessary plans. Her husband isn't going, so we had to get his approval. Of course, he gives his approval, but sabotages the trip in other ways. For instance, he tells my mother he can't bend over and clean her cat's litter box or feed her cat. Given the fact that he's morbidly obese and has severe osteoarthritis of his knees, this could be valid on some level.

There was a discussion that perhaps their neighbor could come in once a day and take care of the cat duties. Then it became, "Oh, the neighbor is crazy, he doesn't want her in the house." "Crazy?" They say it like it's a bad thing. I'm crazy......whatever. I take the bait. I asked, "Why is she crazy?" My mother replied that her husband saw this neighbor watering her lawn at three in the morning with a flash light.

OK, who's the crazy one? If you wake up at three in the morning, do you look out the window to see what's happening in the trailer park? Since it's a trailer park, is there even any lawn? And if you saw suspicious activity in the middle of the night with a flash light, would you think crazy neighbor or possible intruder?

As a crazy person, I take umbrage that they label the neighbor's behavior crazy. I consider this pure sabotage on his part. What do you think?

Let's face it, I'm a prostitute

OK, I'm using the term metaphorically, as Holden Caulfield used it about his brother, D.H., in 'The Catcher in the Rye.' Everyday I wake up around 0530, get dressed, and put on make-up to go to to a job that I hate with people I barely tolerate to do work that I enjoy.

Let's face it, I can save lives anywhere, but MMH is familiar and comfortable. So, I'm there strictly for the money. It's all about the money and my current goal to pay off that huge restaurant loan in four to five years. This way, I'll be free of that yoke around my neck, and if there's no retirement money, I'll deal. I'll still travel when I retire, I'll just stay in cheap hotels and drink cheap beer.

The job has some redeeming qualities, like the 401(k), stock program, pre-tax catch-up, and my co-workers Money Manager, Raingirl, Princess, Death's Door, and Kickboxer. I can live without Bi Polar, Pokemon, God Complex, ADD, and Rebound Man. Now that I see it in print, the scales might be tipped in favor of more good than bad. I guess that's a good thing!

And speaking of make-up, Betty Davis as Baby Jane from the movie showed up a few times. Too much blush, eye shadow down the side of my face, and enough powder caked in every line and wrinkle to make me look like my Grand-mom Tweedie. Grand-mom, I love you and rest in peace. I have your knees, but I always thought I had Grand-mom Sperlunto's skin. It's alarming turning into one's mother; it's daunting turning into one's Grandmother.

Just before sunrise

It's dark now when I wake up, so I don't put on the bright bathroom lights. I try to wake up gradually. I don't want to shock my system, thus I've been using the low bathroom lights. I got the brainstorm that if I use too much blush, I can disguise it with powder. That was a very bad idea. When I arrived at work and saw Grand-mom Tweedie staring back at me, I almost fainted. There was nothing to do but spend the day like that. The only reason I even wear powder is to tone down the shine from the greasy sunscreen, which is purported to be non-greasy. I have to wear the sunscreen because a ray of sunshine might hit my face as I walk from the hospital to the garage. It's always something. Now I use a tiny swipe of blush and a few strokes of powder. If I'm pale and a little shiny, so what? The other is far worse.

Plus it's all about the money. Is that wrong? Am I a prostitute? What do you think?