Praise Jesus!!!
>> 02 April 2013
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| Of course now we have to figure out how to pay for it!! |
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| Of course now we have to figure out how to pay for it!! |
I've been making a choice lately.
For six months I've been making that choice. Head in the sand, foot to the pedal, pedal to the floor, 15 hours a day, six days a week choice. I've chosen to work. Work in the way that men in the fifties used to work. In the way those crazy boys in the early days of Facebook used to work, in the way any owner of a start-up would recognize without my saying the words. With all abandon. With no holding back. By sacrificing. Work and Family. That's it- nothing else. For the last six months.
...and it went by in the blink of an eye.
What's so crazy in all my Yin...I've forgotten how. I've forgotten how to relax, how to write, how to run around the block. How to do nothing but read a book, pet my dog and sit with my kid on the couch. I've forgotten how to just be.
So I took the man-child in to get his wisdom teeth removed today. I know, wisdom teeth - big, fat, hairy deal. Everyone does it. Everyone gets their teeth removed. Everyone has a story about it. Why, I was out running laps immediately after. I was down for three days. Dry socket, chipmunk cheeks, broken jaws, numb tongues and on and on and on it goes. Say wisdom teeth at a party- I double dog dare you.
Was he worried- Nah. But then again he's 19- if he was worried would he even tell me? (For those who've never had teens or don't remember what it was like to be a teen. The correct answer here is a resounding NO.)
Was I little nervous?
Ummm Yeah. A little.
Not for the after part. But the putting him under. Yikes. That got my mother's heart racing a little. Yeah. I know he's nineteen. Get a freaking grip already. (I swear not a psycho helicopter parent- I'm not. Well maybe just a teeny, tiny bit but not really.)
Read the warnings. Take the worst of all of the prescription drug commercials and put it all on one form. Now sign here Ms. Right taking sole responsibility in the event that our dentist- not even a real freaking anesthesiologist didn't decide to go out on a huge bender last night and isn't going to accidentally maim or destroy one of the best people you know. And by the way.. that'll be $500. No, you can't make payments.
It's fiction I tell you. Fiction has completely ruined my grip on reality. It's come to the point I expect things to happen strictly to move the story forward. Not necessarily bad things. Just things. A car explosion, a handsome man, a coma. It's always a surprise when nothing happens.
The only good thing about wisdom teeth surgery is how speedy it is. In and out- 45 minutes. Bada, Bing, Bada, Boom and he's being wheeled out to the car higher than a kite, legal drugs clutched in his hot little hands bruised, battered and bloody.
It's been a craptastic week, the receive a letter from the IRS type of craptastic week.
So by the time I received the text it should have rolled right off my back. I should have been able to shrug it off. One should reach the point where the awfulness no longer matters. Really, how many hits is one person supposed to take in a week before one becomes numb to such things? Like being stung by a jellyfish in the same spot over and over and over again. Shouldn't you only feel the initial sting?

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