H.E.L.P.

Thanks to everyone for your helpful suggestions on how to reduce my springtime schizophrenia. Moving to New York City where the closest thing to weeding is pointing your poodle pee towards the weeds on the curb is definitely a good idea. Except I'd have to sell my house, move to a city, find a job that would pay me enough to find some semblance of somewhere to live, and find a semblance of somewhere to live. Then, after all that, I'd probably miss weeding.

Funny thing is though, moving to NYC is probably more likely than me asking for help, the obvious remedy to susan the schitzo. But really, ask for help? Please.

You know what HELP stands for? Having Everything Less than Perfect.

(I made that up all by myself. I spend a lot of time in the car. Alone.)

Seriously. Not only would getting help result in things not being done to my extremely high and totally unachievable standards, but I would actually have to admit that I can't do it all. And I've always been able to do it all. Always. Asking the Prof to help? I don't know. I hate doing it. When we first started dating he told me how much he liked mowing grass, and I got this little gleam in my eye. Oh yeah, I had found my man. But, it didn't really pan out. Turns out, he's not so much of a lawnmower man.

But maybe I'm getting tired of doing it all. So, I'm going to try to prioritize, I'm going to say no, I'm going to stop obsessing about a 4.0 GPA and maybe, just maybe, I'll ask Prof to help.

Marching along

March is my least favorite month. There are no holidays. The weather goes from gorgeous to crappy in an instant. I'm torn between winter laziness and the hundred thousand things I need and want to be doing in the spring - gardening, kayaking, laying in the sun, hiking, biking...

I tried to take it easy this winter. I mean, besides the death-defying kayaking trip, I tried to take it easy. Most of me is so ready for warmth and long days and dinner on the back deck. But there's this part of me that's not ready for it. Not ready because of the pressure I put on myself. Pressure to do everything and be everything to everybody.

I always get schizophrenic in the spring. The front garden has to be perfectly mulched and weed free. The veggie garden has to be planted earlier than everyone else's (it never is) and weed free. Oh sweet baby jesus, the grass is going to start growing again. I have to go on all the kayaking trips. I agreed to work weekends for special events and public presentations. I have to maintain my 4.0 GPA in grad school. And, oh yeah, Prof likes to see me every once in a while.

This is the first time I've had a boyfriend in the spring since 2001. BB and I broke up twice, the first year in March; the second in February, leaving me single and unattached with plenty of time on my hands to tackle the garden, the lawn, the kayaks and finals. TS and I broke up in March. DPD lasted until January. Crazy Casey only made it until Christmas...

Having a boyfriend is adding a whole new layer to my spring time schizophrenia. Things are good, but I carry this unsettled manic feeling all the time that I'm not doing enough and not accomplishing enough. I think it might make being around me slightly annoying. I mean, more annoying.

I don't have a strategy yet for dealing. I try to take a deep breath when I start feeling overwhelmed by it all, but I think that's only going to last until the grass starts growing.

Speechless

This week has left me speechless.

I had a fairly stressful week at work, and, have been fighting off a cold since Monday. Prof had a pretty stressful week too. I've forgotten how when you are in a relationship, their stress sometimes adds to your own. And that, my friends, was certainly the case this week.

It was all I could do this morning to croak out a 40 minute presentation in a stuffy, slightly mildewy auditorium. When it was done, so was my voice. I have given myself laryngitis.

This has never happened to me before, so I looked it up on WebMD (never look things up on WebMD). It had nothing of interest to say, except that sometimes laryngitis is caused by aging. Thanks WebMD - I'm embarrassed enough that I have to whisper my home repair needs to the Home Despot guy - now you tell me I'm hoarse because I'm old. Bastard.

When the phone rings, I have to whisper/croak and hope whoever is on the other line can understand me. I'm feeling pretty useless. I mean, if there's one thing I can do well, its talk. And talk loud. And for a long time. Now I've got nothing except this keyboard and a whisper.

Some people would be glad for the opportunity to be quiet and reflective. Me? Not so much. Thank god for blogs and g-chat.

Nothing

Its finally happened.

I've run out of things to say.

I was just sort of zapped tonight. I'd sat at my desk at the office for almost 9 hours straight, working on a big presentation for next week. Had a long drive home; stopped at the grocery store, fed the cats, put the groceries away (yes, in that order. The extremely obese cats are under the impression that they are starving to death).

Then I called Prof. "What are you doing?" "Nothing." "What are you doing?" "Nothing." "How was your day?" "Ok." "How was your day...."

But there was nothing to say. We'd hung out the night before. Nothing happened during the day to discuss. I mean, I could have provided him with details about layering photos on top of each other and using the animate feature in powerpoint, but really, why would I want to bore myself with that, let along him? I was tired and couldn't really come up with anything else to banter about, so I just said, "I don't really have anything to say. I think I'm going to go make dinner."

And it occurred to me how weird that was.

I really thought we would never run out of things to say to each other, but here we are. Less than 10 months, and I'm out of material. He's heard about my day everyday for months on end. He kinda knows how it goes. I've heard about his. I kinda know how it goes.

Its fine though, really. It was bound to happen eventually. We're hitting a new point in our relationship - the boring, settled part. Relationships can't be new and exciting forever.

This must be why people have kids. Then you have plenty to talk about.

Back in Action

The headaches have lifted. I don't know what worked, but something did. I felt so good for a couple days last week that I turned right giddy. Even after a terrible meeting, I was happy and enthusiastic and smiley. WTF?

I think its been months since I've felt nothing in my head: no pain, no thud, no pressure... So when I finally realized, "wait! I can't feel my head!" it was a liberating moment. It didn't last long, and its not easy to maintain.

I'm taking 2000 mg of Magnesium Gluconate a day - that's 4 pills. Plus 400 mg of B2. That's four more pills. All as migraine prevention. Plus my pill pill. And the allergy pill. And two Alleves in the morning. And two at night. And the blood pressure pill that's also a migraine preventer. I counted it up, and with my regular vitamins, I'm swallowing something like 18 pills a day.

Plus, I'm off the coffee.

That's right. No coffee for susan anymore. Tea only. I feel like I'm drinking gallons of tea a day, herbal, green, black, chai, infusions... I cheated last week and had a half a cup; within about 30 minutes, the pounding started. Boo.

I'm also trying to do a little yoga in the morning, to relax and center. Not really that relaxing, since I'm yelling at the cats the whole time to get away from me, but at least I get a little stretchy in before climbing into my car for the daily commute.

So, my point in telling you all this? Well, first, I want you to feel sorry for me. Then, I want you to remember how much you enjoy my witty and insightful blogs. Then, I want you to look forward to reading more of them, since I can finally see straight again. Plus, there's been a lot happening that deserves some attention.

And, speaking of things that deserve attention, there is a Bachelor wedding tonight. Oh, my favorite indecisive douchebag bachelor Jason is marrying the naive little Molly. I have a glass of wine, a barf bag and several rotten tomatoes. Oh god, its on now! Romantic montage! Ew.

I feel a headache coming on.

Headachey

The headaches came back with a vengeance last week. A serious, ass-kicking vengeance.

It started Tuesday. I went to work, came home, took migraine pill. Went to migraine pill land.

Wednesday, I went to work, came home early, took a migraine pill. Then took another. And went to migraine pill land. Missed a concert that I was really looking forward too; as did Prof, who came over to bring me dinner and try to make me feel better.

Thursday, same deal. Though I think I managed to not take a migraine pill. But I forget.

Friday, I gave up and stayed home from work. I kept the headaches at bay over the weekend, but on Monday, I was back to the same deal. Left work, head pounding, barely made it home, took a pill and went to sleep. For the entire night.

I have no idea what's causing this, and its starting to seriously effect my outlook on life, my social life, my blogging time, my job, my house... Prof asked me to go to this drumming circle thing in a couple weeks and my response was "yeah, I'll go, as long as I don't have a headache." Who has to make plans like that?

Me.

And feeling like shit has given me ample opportunity to just think about things; my dad, my grandma, dad's house, weird family stuff, prof, BB... Its just put me into a weird head thudding funk. I don't like being sad and contemplative. I like being loud and obnoxious - but loud and obnoxious doesn't work with migraine head.