Thank God Mike Came Home. This could have gone on for hours.

What a lovely Sunday. Picture perfect weather and I slept great. I’m glad for the change in mood. I’ve been feeling kind of bitchy all week. That’s not like me but I did just switch antidepressants, so I’ll have to keep that in check. Today I feel wonderful!

I woke up at 6:45 to dispatch for a few hours. It was quiet as usual for that time of day. I did talk to one guy who did a click to call and didn’t connect with the girl. A click to call is generated by one of the company’s many websites. For a lower price guys or girls (I’ll tell you that story another time) can click on a link and be connected to the girl of their choice rather than having to go through the dispatcher. Most times it works. On occasion, like every time I work weird hours when normal people are sleeping, it doesn’t work. Either the actress (yes, we are called actresses) fell asleep and the phone didn’t wake her or she rejected the call. It’s usually because they are asleep. That happened to this poor guy this morning. He absolutely had to talk to “Jane”. Well she rejected his call and then signed off. Maybe she was tired; maybe she didn’t want to talk to this guy. He calls a lot. I smoothed things over and he ended up satisfied with the outcome. Wink, wink.

Mike and one of my beautiful stepdaughters (they are all gorgeous) went to visit Mike’s dad in Boca. Normally I love to go. Today, not so much. I opted not to take the two hour drive. Instead I mowed the lawns. I’ll be working nights and sleeping days this week so today was the day. I don’t mind it. It gives me two hours of sunshine which is great for my vitamin D deficiency. Now you may be wondering why in hell a girl that lives in the Sunshine State has a vitamin D deficiency. Impossible, right? Not so. I don’t really go outside enough. I hide in the house. I should be showing off the lovely olive skin that I have instead of rocking this gothic porcelain that I was born with. I need my hammock back. It would do me good to get a couple hours of natural light per day. Vitamin D is good for the bones and for mood support. It has gotten to the time of the year when the weather is getting just right. Humidity has gone down a notch and the sun is starting to wan. Today there is a lovely breeze and the humidity is only around 97%. It’s perfect. In fact, I’m sitting on my back porch writing this.

I was sitting inside watching the Bucs’ game. That’s usually setting myself up for disappointment but they actually scored on a pick up from a fumble. It was some nice playing. Football is weird for me. I was raised a Patriots fan, married a Bucs fan and, now live with a Giant’s fan. Mike’s cool about my passion for the Bucs (oh, who am I kidding, Mike is cool about everything. I love that man. It wouldn’t be a post without me telling you that. I know it is nauseatingly sweet.) I don’t have to like his team. We usually watch my team. So, I was watching the game and drinking a beer. I know my mom just cringed and said to herself, “No, no, no, no! Tell me she didn’t get into the beer again.”  I get sick every time I hit the sauce. It lands me in bed for the entire next day. I have a plan this time. I figure I might as well be junk all day tomorrow so that I sleep all day and am nice and refreshed to work tomorrow night. Come on! It sounds good in theory. No? I’m only going to have a few beers and some herbal tea and I’ll be just fine. I’m serious. I’ll check in with you at 7am when I get up for my morning dispatching gig. I’ll let you know how this experiment turns out.

I probably will only have a few (not like last Sunday) because milk goes better with chocolate chip cheesecake brownies. Yum! They are chilling right now. My house smells amazing. They are one of Mike’s favorite treats so I figure I’d spoil him a little bit. He deserves it. He has been working his ass off lately. Last night he worked late and I was a little bitchy about it. I need him so much but I understand what he is doing for us. Anyway, he had just finished up a 74 hour week. That’s insane. 74 fucking hours cutting trees at all hours of the day and night. Mike is on call because he will answer his phone and show up. He is one hell of a worker and luckily his bosses get that. They are good to him. Or at least as good as they are allowed to be. They are trying to get him more money. He totally deserves it. Dude works his balls off! Again, I’m a lucky girl. The last one wouldn’t have worked unless I made him.

So, back to the brownies, they are chilling in the beer fridge and Mike just got home so I’m going to just end this now. No follow through. No other ending. I’ve got to go. Big Daddy is home and we have no kids here. Life is grand!

Pimping Jen's Blog

I don’t get out much. I work from home so there is no office to go to. There are no people to interact with face to face. It’s just me and the dogs. The only places I ever go are the grocery store and the nail salon. I lead a pretty sheltered life. I guess I don’t really mind. I’m a little shy; social anxiety. I do however love an adventure so; I live vicariously through a good friend of mine.

I have known Jennifer forever. We grew up in the same neighborhood. She has always been adventurous. She has always been a free spirit. She is a lover of the arts and as such visits galleries, museums, and enjoys live theater. She blogs about her experiences and it is through this that I gain some culture. Her blog takes me out of my own little world and into her very spirited universe. I think you would enjoy her adventures as much as I do.

Um...I'm not sure what to call this one.

Today Wendy’s World is romantic. It’s is nauseatingly sweet. I am so much in love and I am loved so well. My guy is the most incredible guy ever. He is hands down my most favorite person. I finally get the notion that I deserve to be loved. I spent too many years in a fucked up relationship that I forgot what love felt like. It is afuckingmazing!

My marriage was a nightmare. We loved each other but in a codependent kind of way. We had some knock down drag out fist fights. At times we hated each other as much as we loved each other. That happens when you are in an abusive relationship. He wanted me to himself and only himself. If he could have prevented me from going to work he would have. He hated for me to leave the house. He hated to share me. He made excuses for my absence; like saying I was sick. He simply wanted to hide me from the world. I was his prisoner. There were times when we did go out together or I would go out and find him and we would spend some time together. It was always at the bar. It never ended well. He would accuse me of hitting on someone or someone hitting on me and it would get nasty. We would wake up in the morning and the house would be trashed and we would be all beat up. Ah, alcohol fueled domestic violence. Not my favorite pass time, but I got real good at defending myself. I used to be able to knock him out with one punch. That’s what I have to be proud of about that relationship. Then to make matters worse, when I finally left, he committed suicide. He blamed me. He told me that he couldn’t live without me all the while he had a girlfriend. Did I tell you about his cheating ways? Nope, bounced right over that one. He cheated on me; a lot. But, I digress. He hung himself off the back of my bedroom door. He did it because he was pissed at me and wanted to punish me. That’s what he said anyway. So, that’s a nice take away from seventeen years of marriage. I now wonder why I stuck around for so long.

I guess I had an awakening. It was more like an intervention. Ok, really it was a murder/suicide threat that did it. As miserable as I was, as sick and tired as I was, I just wouldn’t give up. I finally had to. I knew he would do it. He would kill me and then himself. I had to get out so, I did.

In the months after I left he stalked me. He stalked me via text message, phone calls, drive bys, and e-mail. He was constantly there. I couldn’t get any sleep. I would sleep in my mom’s closet with my Pit Diesel and a loaded 12 gauge shotgun. I worked on a secure, government installation however; he was badged for up there because he had done some construction work there. He could get me no matter where I went. I was terrified. It took me a long time and lots of therapy to recover from that. But, alas I did.

I suppose I can say that I am better for the experience. I know what I don’t want in a relationship. I just didn’t know what I was supposed to want. When I met Mike I was still pretty fucked up. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t accept the respect and love he showed but in all fairness, he had issues too. It was hard to convince him that I wasn’t what he was used to. I wasn’t going to betray him. I wasn’t using him. I just wanted to love him. All the while I was fighting this battle he was trying to break down the thick walls I had built around my heart. Sometimes things were a little rough. Never as rough as with my husband. We learned to talk to each other. We took the time to find out what the other was feeling or thinking. One day it just happened. There was no struggle left. It was the most beautiful feeling. Unconditional love is amazing. I can’t even describe it. It’s like being wrapped in your favorite blanket all the time. It’s amazing what happens when you just let go and give into it. I’ve felt this way for a long time now. I’ve been with Mike since early 2010. Each day I fall more in love. He gets me. He knows what makes me tick. He knows how to keep me madly in love with him. He allows me my free will.

I don’t remember most of Sunday.

I’m never drinking beer again. Yeah, right. Ok, I’m never drinking that much beer again. I got fucked right up! I’m getting too old for that shit. My whole body punished me yesterday. I couldn’t even read. All I could do is sleep. I spent the whole day in bed. I did take a couple of calls and mowed Harvey’s lawn so at least I made some money, but I was pretty much useless. I can’t believe I used to do that all the time. That is so totally not cool anymore. I lost a whole chunk of a day. I don’t remember most of Sunday. Bad, bad girl! My body is much happier when it is clean. I can’t even eat food with preservatives in it anymore. It makes me sick. It must be age. So, it’s back to all natural living for this girl.

Time to plant some tomato plants. My garden is nicely weeded and waiting for manure and plants. It’s starting to get cooler now so it is a nice time for a garden. We are also starting to get more rain which is good and bad. The good is the vegetation loves it. The bad is that Mike has to work in it. He busts his ass for us. I believe I have said that before. Next week I will be busting my ass or really just wearing out my brain as I will be dispatching calls from 9 pm to 7 am, Monday through Thursday while still trying to work my PSO shift. The good thing about the PSO shift is that I can sleep all day and take calls. I’m hoping that is going to work out for me. My brain usually objects to any changes in its routine. I may become a little manicy which is ok as long as bitchiness doesn’t come along with it. As long as I can stay well rested I should be fine.

Wow! I just realized that last paragraph was one big ADHD mess, And now my keyboard will only type in caps. wtf!?

Coffee...I Do Love You!

Another brain experiment has gone wrong. Why would I ever think it is a good idea to give up coffee? I love coffee! I ran out on Sunday and haven’t had a chance to get to the store to pick some up. So I thought, “Screw it, I’ve been able to give everything else up. I can kick my coffee habit.” Not so. I am so tired even with drinking tea instead. There is just something about that morning quadruple espresso with frothy milk and sweet, sweet cinnamon that gets me moving. Right now I am ready for a nap. In fact, I’m only writing this to stay awake.

It feels so wrong to take a nap while Mike is sweating his balls off at work. I feel guilty indulging myself while he is working his ass off to support us. I know what he would say. That sweetheart would tell me, “Baby take a nap if that’s what you need to do.” He so good to me like that. I wonder if he’ll stop at the store and pick me up some espresso on his way home. Of course he will.

I think part of my sleepiness is my new antidepressant. It says it may cause drowsiness and well, it does do that. It works as well as my old one except for that side effect, but I needed to be taken down a notch anyway. Way too much anxiety going on. This drug seems to quell that. I like it so far. It is much less expensive than my old meds. It’s only ten bucks for ninety as opposed to fifty bucks for a thirty day supply. That’s the kind of savings I can live with. Dr. V assures me that it is “exactly the same as Prozac, only better.” He’s the expert so I’ve got to go with him on this one. He would probably also tell me to quit quitting coffee if it was making me unhappy. That’s his job after all, to keep me happy. He would probably also tell me to take a nap, so that’s what I’m going to do. Hey, Dr’s orders.

My Brain is Too Big for My Head

I spent almost the entire day in bed yesterday. It was awesome. I read and napped all day long. I did get up once to clean up the kitchen a little but that was a small task. I just lounged all day.

Saturday afternoon/night we celebrated my anti-birthday. It’s Mike’s way of throwing me a birthday party. I hate celebrating my birthday. So we don’t do cake or any of that. We had a blast. Mike threw a ton of chicken on the smoker and friends brought dishes and we even had fresh gator tail. Our friend Lonnie had hunted an eleven foot alligator. Man was it tasty. I love fried gator tail. It tastes like a chicken and a fish had a baby. Reptiles are yummy!

I discovered the pure pleasure that is birthday cake flavored vodka. It tastes just like cake. It is really good in small doses. I savored a couple of shots of that while I was cleaning up the big mess. That’s the great part about not getting fucked up anymore; I can function to clean up the mess, real time. I don’t have to drag myself out of bed all hung over and face a huge mess. It’s nice. I’m learning moderation. I must be mellowing with age. I know my body’s limits. I might test them a little but, don’t push them anymore.

So, I wasn’t in bed with a hang over. I was in bed because I wanted to be and because I have had a headache for nearly a week. It isn’t a migraine. Those meds don’t work on it. It isn’t a tension headache; muscle relaxers don’t work. It is a headache that I get that is at the base of my skull right near your brain stem. It happens because my brain is too big for my head so it pushes out of the hole back there. The only way to fix it is to make that hole bigger. Well, you can imagine what that would entail. Totally not worth it. I know the headache will eventually subside. It is just a dull ache and barely noticeable when I am concentrating on something. That’s why reading in bed is good for me. I put the heating pad on my neck and just lay back and go to some other world inside my Kindle. I wish I could do the same thing today but too much laziness isn’t good for me. I got up about 6:30 so that I could see Mike before he went to work. I was totally bummed to find that I did not have coffee in the house. I had to settle for tea. It did a sufficient job of waking me up. With the caffeine in my system I set about cleaning the floors. They were yucky. Now I’m working dispatching calls. I love it. It is so much fun. Some poor dude just got cock blocked by his credit card company. It’s kind of humorous when that happens.

Gonna Have to Mess With My Mind A Little

So, I woke up with a crappy birthday to me attitude. I don’t know why I was depressed; maybe it’s because another year has passed. I think it is mostly because I don’t have a well paying job. I need to improve my attitude about the job I have. Maybe if I put in more hours I will make more money. I don’t know.

So there I was with tears in my eyes feeling sorry for myself when my Daddy called. He always cheers me up. He has that way about him. He’s not just my Dad he is also my very good friend. It has always been like that. I think it is because we are so much alike. He has a way of making me feel not alone. He has a good perspective on life. We talked about the general state of the nation and how not very many people can say they are doing great. He reminded me of all the other people out there that are jobless and struggling. He basically told me that I just have to be happy with what I have and hope for the best. I love that man. I feel better now. Well, a little bit better. I’m glad that I got to talk to one of my favorite people. Now I wish I would receive calls from other people, the paying kind.

 

We, that being me and my bosses, can’t figure out why things are not working for me. We have tried adding new characters. The only thing I haven’t done is tried changing my hours. I think that is something I am going to have to do. Unfortunately that screws up my brain’s schedule. Night becomes day; day becomes night. It messes me up a little bit. Hopefully it sends me over to the manic side. I’m already a little depressed. I don’t want that to get worse. I know it is just situational depression but it can be debilitating. The manic side is much more fun. I’m happy and productive and everything seems to go my way. It’s all part of that positive attracts positive belief. So, I think I’ll start working nights next week and see what happens. Wish my brain luck, it’s going to need it.

Shy Guys, Dominant Women, and A New Job

I know you have heard this before but I think I have another job. It is with a legitimate work at home company. I love being a sub-contractor. I have an awesome situation that works very well for me because I have extreme anxiety. I don’t need to leave the house. I don’t have to get up close and personal with the general public. I only need to talk to people on the phone. I’m very good at that.

I talk to the skivviest of pervs in my PSO job. It is a no taboo service. You talk about what ever the client wants no matter how sick it is. I’ve learned to detach myself from the characters I play. I have four characters. I have two that are very young girls and two ladies that are in their late forties. Given the age span of my characters, I get to run the whole gamut of debauchery.

I have recently started dispatching for the phone sex company. It’s a cool gig. Men are funny. They are so shy about what they are doing. They are nervous. They stutter. They give you wrong information. They are too cute. I’m always very gentle and loving with them to put them at ease. I gently walk them through the purchase. It also gives one of my characters a ton of exposure. I use my phone voice when dispatching. More times than not I get asked if I could do their call. They love my voice. They want to know my name so that they can talk to me when I’m on the PSO side of things. I like that. I’ve been telling them my name is Claire. Claire is one of my characters. She’s forty something, kinky and knows exactly what she likes. She is a dominant slut. She eats twenty year olds for breakfast. She does a swift business. I love Claire.

My new job is legitimate customer service. You know, one of those 800 customer support numbers we all love to call? I’m going to be one of those happy idiots; happy because I’m grateful to be working. It doesn’t pay a lot but I get to work from home. I like working in my jammies. I like being able to bum around my house between calls. I get to read and play games. I am very fortunate to be able to live like this. I’m free.

I Shaved My Balls For This?

I have a twisted sense of humor. This came in handy after my husband killed himself. Dark humor carried me through the planning, the fucking obituary (I’ll explain that), and the memorial service.

I had little or no say in how it would all go down. His family took over and told me what I was going to do. They were pissed at me because instead of calling Pete’s mom myself, I sent the police to her house to inform her. I did this for specific reasons. She lives alone. Pete’s step father lives a half an hour away. I requested that specific officers be dispatched so that she knew them. I knew they would comfort her and wait with her if she needed it. They grew up with Pete. I thought that would be better than me just calling her and saying, “Pete hung himself. Good bye.” I mean, what’s a girl to do. I was in shock and could barely communicate with the police let alone tell someone their child was dead. So, they cut me out of everything except the packing and shipping of him home. The obituary was written by his mother and was basically all about how influential his family had been in settling the town of Lee, Massachusetts. It talked about him raising rabbits for 4-H, it had nothing about the man he had become, what he had accomplished and that sort of thing. This is because they didn’t really know him. Their relationship was superficial. The obit was a joke. More than a dozen people asked me, “What’s up with the obituary?” I would just tell them I had nothing to do with it and shake my head.

The memorial service was even more embarrassing. The pastor at the church had never met Pete and I didn’t have time to meet with him before the service so he basically read the dreaded obituary and that was it. We did pray and a family friend played a song on his guitar but that was the extent of it. The only piece of me and Pete was the rocked up version of Amazing Grace that the organist played. Pete had wanted the Drop Kick Murphy’s version played at his memorial. Pete wanted a lot of things that he did not get because these people refused to talk to me.

Pete wanted to be cremated immediately. He did not want to be embalmed, made up and put on display. We had talked extensively about our wishes should something happen to one of us. I knew what he wanted. They didn’t. They insisted on seeing him one last time before he was cremated. I had to go along with that; you know the whole closure thing. So I told the funeral director that I worked with in Florida that I did not want any make up on him. I simply wanted him embalmed, dressed, and shipped to Massachusetts. He agreed and asked me to bring him the clothes I would like him dressed in. Ok, so, here is the only other part of this big charade that I had a choice over.

My mom and I went to my house to look for clothes for him. While she was in the closet pulling out dress shirts I was going through his t-shirt drawer. We decided to go with a t-shirt as that was more his style. Now here is where it gets good. I had a habit of picking up shirts for him with funny sayings on them. One of his favorite shirts said in big blue letters, “I shaved my balls for this?” I couldn’t resist. I had to send him home in that. I can just imagine the looks on their faces when they caught sight of that. My mom, the funeral director in Florida, and I thought it was hysterical. Unfortunately the humor was probably lost on his family as they are kind of stuffy, but I got one over on them. For that I am proud. At least one thing went my way.

A Freight Train Full of Fuck-Yeah!

“There’s nothing as unstoppable as a freight train full of fuck-yeah.” ~ Jen Sincero

I have been cigarette free for 134 days. I have added 20 days to my life. I have saved approximately $800. I have also lost 48 lbs. I’m pretty proud of myself. At first I really didn’t think I could do it. Cigs were such a part of me. I was a Marlboro Red girl. I smoked around a pack a day for nearly 30 years so, when my doctor said, “quit or die”; I had to seriously think about it. It took me two tries.

I quit smoking the first time for a couple of months. It wasn’t pretty. I was using an electronic cigarette for assistance. I didn’t really want to quit. I would get to drinking beer and I would chain smoke e-cigs. Then I just said fuck it and started smoking again. I loved cigs. I tried going from Reds down to ultra lights; it didn’t work. I tried cutting down; it didn’t work. I tried nicotine gum; it didn’t work. Nothing worked because I didn’t want it to.

I had to get serious. I had to put some fuck-yeah behind it. I had to get excited about quitting so, I got in touch with Tobacco Free Florida. Through Tobacco Free Florida I was assigned a quit coach and given a two week supply of nicotine patches. My quit coach was virtual, I never actually talked to anyone. I would receive encouraging text messages from them and I could get updated stats on where I was in the quitting process.

Quitting smoking is not that hard once you make your mind up to do it. Although, I had to drastically alter my lifestyle. I had to tailor it around triggers that made me want to smoke. Tragically, I had to give up my biggest trigger, beer. I effing heart beer. I was a huge fan or Marlboro Reds and Bud Light. The trouble was that when I was drinking I was chain smoking so; I had to quit beer too. I know; say it ain’t so! Yup, I did it; beer and cigs in one shot. 

Quitting beer was harder than cigs. It takes me a few beers to get over my general anxiety. I’m more comfortable when I’m buzzed. I looked forward to 4:00 on Friday when Happy Hour began. I could be myself after a few beers. Beer is fun, it make me slightly manic. That can be a lot of fun. It can also cause a lot of trouble as my judgment is highly impaired and I’m more likely to make decisions I will later regret. Hence, the story of how I got my dog.

The best thing I can say about quitting beer is I dropped a ton of weight really fast. In 134 days I have dropped 48 pounds. I’m now a size six. I was I size 12. Weight just melted off me. Imagine filling a grocery cart with 48, four stick boxes of butter. That’s a lot of fat. I can now feel my hip bones. I’m not emaciated or anything. I weigh 140 lbs. I’m trying to loose another 20 to get down to what the government says is healthy for my mere 5 foot 2 ½ inches. I don’t know if I’ll get there but I will give it a try. I’m working on muscle tone so I might just gain muscle and that’s ok with me. I feel better than I ever have and I’m saving a lot of money.