I'm Back! The Fog has Lifted.

That title is shamelessly borrowed from Kid Rock, and I don't care who knows. It totally describes how I've felt the last couple of weeks. Being back in Pitt is incredible. I have missed the crap out of this place, and didn't even fully realize how much until I immersed myself back in the culture.
It's been awesome.
I loved my old job in that my boss was awesome, but the job itself wasn't very stimulating. There's a line in one of my current favorite songs, Forest Whitaker by Bad Books (check it out, seriously, you're doing yourself a favor unless you don't like my kind of music, in which case I'm sorry about your life) that goes a little something like this: You have a job that you hate when you're sober and hate even more when you're not. That line resonated with me a lot. I hate jobs that are boring, and I mean that in the sense that you have a set number of things to do, you do them, it never varies, and there's poor lighting in your office too, which emphasizes how depressing it all is. Oh, and your window faces a brick wall. Oh, and it's covered with a rusty grate.
So, there was that.
But my BOSS was awesome! And the people I worked with were awesome. I miss them. But not the monotony of the job. Enough about that. Now I'm in a new job, as a graduate assistant, which means that I enrolled in grad school, which is pretty awesome, and I'm paying for it myself as I go, which I hope will make me value the education even more, but we'll see. I just love taking classes from Dr. Arbuckle again. I've missed that guy.
So having two jobs that I love is great, and having two classes that I love is great.
Once my kid graduates in 2015, I'll be out of school, and thus out of a job, and I don't know how long my doctorate will take, but I'm pretty sure I can write from anywhere. I'm thinking I'll get a pork-pie hat and a pipe that I'll never smoke, just chew on, and BAM!, I'll be a stereotype, and then my writing can truly begin in earnest.
Anyway, that's what's been happening with me. The kids are still awesome, and the youngest is trying out for baseball, so fingers crossed on that, and the oldest started another semester at Crowder, which means he's on the back end of his degree, hours-wise, and I'm so proud of him for that, and if I could just convince Hunter that he isn't a failure if he works a little less and gets back into boxing, and things that HE really loves, then we'll be all set.
How's it going with YOU? I love what you're doing with your hair today, and I like your top. Talk to me anytime.

Five Types - Which One are You?

One of the best things I ever learned in a class was a lesson covered in Small Group Communication. Dr. Pogue introduced us to the five different personality types, and I was amused to realize that, of the five living in our house, each of us was a different one.
The first type is the Blamer. This one is self-explanatory, really, but in a nutshell, the Blamer never sees that he or she did anything wrong. Everything is the fault of someone else, and the Blamer never is the cause of any wrongdoing. You can't really reason with a Blamer, either. They will probably blame you for it.
The second type is the Blamer's opposite, the Placater. This is the person who blames him- or herself for everything. Rather than blaming anyone else, one who placates will accept full blame for everything, even things that that person isn't to blame for, which makes this type just as faulty in its own way as the Blamers.
The third type is the Computer. The Computer does not show emotions. This person is robot-like in that regard. Getting a Computer to break down is very difficult, if not impossible at times. This type of person is very even-keeled, but even though they seem completely laid-back, they are really just hiding their feelings so deeply that often they aren't even aware of them.
The fourth type is the Distractor. The Distractor is lost in his own head. You can identify a Distractor by asking him a question. If you get no answer or hint that the person heard you, ask again. If he responds with "Whut?" then you've likely got a Distractor in front of you.
The Distractor will do anything to shift attention away from themselves, particularly when being called to task about something involving responsibility. They don't want to admit that it's happening, and they will try to make you forget that it's happening, too. Though this type can be comical at times, ultimately it is very frustrating to get a Distractor to focus and do what they need to do.
Finally, the fifth type is the Leveler. The Leveler is the most well-adjusted of the five types. This person can also be referred to as a Fixer. The Leveler tries to make everything better, but not by sacrificing themselves in the process. They are honest, up-front, real, and caring, but they're not afraid to do what they need to do to get the job done. They neither blame nor avoid. They meet problems head-on, without hesitation.
While none of our cases in my family are extreme to the extent that they were when I took this class, we have a classic Blamer in our lives that should be pictured in the textbooks when this personality type is mentioned. I guess that's what made me remember that long-ago lesson, and realize that some things really do stick with you. Thank you, Dr. Pogue, and for the rest of you, which type are YOU?

How was YOUR 2012?

So it has been another year, blah blah blah. How many times have you read that crap? And, of course, the whole "New Year, New You" business that's inevitably a part of it, particularly when marketed to women. What I like to do at the end of the year is count my blessings, and this year is no different. So here it is: Blessings 2012, Shepherd Style. Zach had his last of everything high school: last wrestling season, in which he finally realized his dream of making state. His last band concert, which was a little hard to watch. I can't believe he is so grown up now. He continues to be a dream of a stepchild. He graduated in May, took a full course load at the local college this summer, and aced his first fall semester. He will start January 2013 as a sophomore. He has a lot of changes coming up in his life this summer, but he is a mature and responsible kid, and I am so proud of him. I feel blessed to be in his orbit. Hunter is taking his first college class, Chemistry, and I can't believe how smart he is. He didn't get it from me, for sure. He got the second highest score in the grade in his pre-ACT test. Again, didn't get that from me. He turned 16, which was a stressful couple of weeks in terms of adjusting to the price of gas and finding a driveable vehicle, but he did adjust, thank goodness. He works two jobs in addition to school, and is doing very well at balancing it all. He impressed me during the election season with his informed opinions and desire to learn about the political process. I'm not worried about him. Zane had an amazing year. He has worked through a lot and seems so well-adjusted now. I didn't think it was possible for him to be any funnier, but he is. He has grown a LOT. At the beginning of last year, he was almost my height. Now he is taller than me and Hunter, and just about taller than Zach. I give him another year before he will be taller than Bill. He is doing great in school, as usual, and says he wants to work with me when he turns 16, which is a great compliment. I love hanging out with him. Bill and I had some adjustments to make as we had to bid our old house goodbye and start over. Our new house has ended up being better for everyone, though. Even though it's further from town, it's our little piece of heaven. I'd love to have a better signal and even a kind-of decent internet connection, but you can't have it all. We're closer than ever, despite the obstacles that we have faced with his ex-wife and her inability to be happy. Hopefully in 2013, she will find her happiness. I graduated from Pitt State in May, and after a semester off, decided to go back and start my graduate degree in January. I also started an amazing new job in May at the theater, and have never had a more rewarding job in my life. Everybody should have a job that they are excited to go to. The people I work with are awesome, and I love every single one of them. I kept my health, which is a blessing every day, and although Bill has had a few problems with his back and feet, he's still going strong, too. I have loved having him around more this year. We're talking about doing some traveling when the kids graduate, which will happen quicker than we know. I can't believe they're 18, 16 and 15 now. Time goes too fast, as many of you know. All in all, I think 2013 is looking to be a great year, too. I'm really excited at the changes to come, and ready to take them on with my family by my side. Oh, and I'll probably diet from January 1-2, as always. How was YOUR 2012?

Ch-ch-ch-changes!

Starting next month, I am leaving Heartland and starting a new phase of life at Pitt State.
Part of this probably has to do with the fact that I am getting older, and want to explore as many things as I can before I'm too old to care.
Has anyone else ever felt that way? It's not a mid-life crisis, exactly; actually, I think it has more to do with cancer. I had no real motivation or ambition before cancer. I just drifted, really. But once I had that death scare, I realized that I want to do a lot more things before I die.
I got this position at Pitt State, as a graduate assistant in employer relations, and I think it will be more challenging. I will get to conduct all the mock interviews for the campus and grade them. I get to research stuff I care about. The condition to employment is that I have to stay enrolled in school; no problem, because I miss it there. So I'm taking six hours in grad school and working part time on campus. I'll still keep my theater job because I freaking love it.
I'll get paid a fair amount, but with gas prices factored in, I won't make as much as I did at Heartland.
Something that has fallen by the wayside this month, though, is my book. I wish NaNoWriMo had a December contest, too, so that I could have kept pace with my word count. As it stands, I'm just past 60,000 words, and plot-wise, hovering around the two-thirds to three-fourths mark. I think about all I need to do, with finishing, and then editing, and then marketing, and I get so freakin' tired.
And then I like hanging out with my dang kids too much. They're fun. I miss seeing the oldest, but he did ask me to go with him to enroll for the spring semester. We had so much fun doing that - I think the highlight was when he snuck into the teacher's lounge and stole some cake, then the advisor called us in right after that. He had chocolate all over himself.
But I digress. He's really excited about taking Philosophy, which made me happy. Although he's not around as much, he's doing ok considering all the changes happening in his life. The youngest is always awesome. We get each other, and have our own bond. I am so glad to have them and to have their support. They are the best stepkids in the world (sorry, all you other stepkids, you didn't make the cut).
This is kind of rambly, but I hadn't posted in a while, so to all my readers (ha!), chill out. There were holidays and stuff.
Have a kick-ass New Year (I'll be working, so have fun for both of us) and I'll see ya in 2013!

My THIRD BOOK!

When I turned 30, I had a little freak-out. I always expected I would have written at least one book before I turned 30, and, well, I failed. So in November 2005, I wrote a little something called "Thirty." I wrote it in 30 days, when I was 30, and it was about the wacky world of pharmacy. It really isn't that boring - it was kind of fiction/nonfiction and focused on the types of crazy people who come into retail pharmacy every single day.
The next year, spurred by the recent death of my grandfather, I wrote "The Christmas Room." That one was a little too personal to share with anyone, but it was a labor of love for me, as well as being so cathartic.
After that, my passion for book-writing died. I tried another one the next year, but it was more of a collection of jumbled words and little coherence than anything else, so I quietly closed the door on that chapter of my life.
Until last night. I felt tired, and Bill had to get up early too, so we went to bed. Except, I couldn't sleep. A single line kept running through my head, and this urgent insistence from my inner voice telling me that it had to go in my book. What the hell, I thought. I am so not writing a book. I have plenty of other crap going on.
But, that voice. And it wouldn't stop. Then another thought, a plot point, popped into my head too, and stayed there, ringing like a bell every time I tried to find sleep.
Rolling over and grabbing my phone, I explained to Bill that I had to write this down or it would undoubtedly be lost in the morning.
I ended up writing a lot. I'm at 2400 words so far, and the story is spinning itself together in my mind and flowing out through my fingers in a way that I thought was lost to me forever.
Holy cow, I might be writing a book. This one is different in that it truly is fiction. I have no idea where the plot is coming from, or how it popped into my head. I only know I can't ignore it.
I will keep you posted on its progress.

At What Point Do You Surrender?

Being around myself more than anyone else, I feel fairly qualified to name both bad and good things about me. Because it's me, we're going to focus on the bad today, and how it is detrimental to my mental health.
I am a clean freak.
I don't mean a glove-wearing, masked, constantly-disinfecting mom like on Dexter's Laboratory.
I just like things to be clean. And that's the way it is.
My paternal grandparents were not concerned about having a spotless house, nor is my dad. My mom is, which makes this just one more thing I have to admit I have in common with her. My brother and sister are very particular about the order of things, but I don't know how fastidious they are.
I just want my space orderly. I want my tables and counters wiped down. I don't want clutter. I don't care about stuff being alphabetized or being correlated by color. I just want it clean.
This can be a problem when you live with guys.
In my case, I mean it IS a problem. I live with two who do not care at all about keeping anything clean, one who cares but not enough to help, and finally, my pleaser, who will help me whenever asked and will try to remember to help when not asked.
It's still overwhelming. To me, if each person cleans up his own personal mess, we have no problems.
If only we all felt that way.
I have two choices: clean it up myself or ask the offender to do it.
Both have pros and cons.
If I clean it up myself, I have the benefit of knowing it will be done to my often-unreasonable expectations (the way a towel is folded, the way a bed should be made, where the dishes are put away). I know that I will have the personal satisfaction of a job well done, and I will know exactly what I have done and what still needs to be done.
If I request that it be done by the offender, in an ideal world, that offender would do it. Instead, in the BEST-case scenario, it is put off to "later," a time that seems to be related to the word "never." If I request again, I am a nag and just being mean, because they SAID they'd do it later! GOD! If I then do it myself, I am being a total freak and wow, I SAID I would do it, what is WRONG with you!?
And I mean, let's face it. I am gone more than anyone else in the house, with the exception of my kid, who lives with his dad half the time. Do I enjoy coming home to a messy house? Uh, NO. Is it the quickest thing to put me in a horrible mood? You bet.
I KNOW, ladies, that I am not alone in this quandry. My question is, at what point do we give in? At what point do we try to change our very makeup, the stuff that makes us who we are, to save our own sanity?
I don't want to resort to drinking EVERY night. I mean, that's not good for you, right? Or is it now? I can't keep up.
I just know that, when I get home tonight at roughly 11:30 p.m., there will be a mess.
I can count on few things in this life, but by God, I know I can count on that.

Be Careful What You Wish For...

I don't have a lot of memories from childhood. I don't remember really ever wanting to BE anything, except a writer. When I was 19, however, I became dead-set on achieving a very particular goal. Once I achieve this goal, I told myself then, my life will be set.
Do you see where this is headed?
I achieved the goal. I wanted it, I wished for it, I prayed about it, and I got it.
Now I don't know how I feel about that.
It doesn't matter what it is.
When I look at the surface of my life, it seems absolutely amazing. I live in a dream home, after facing the loss of our previous home a few months ago. I have the best kids in the world, even if only one of them is mine biologically. I have my "dream" husband. I have a college degree. I no longer have cancer. I have one amazing job and one not-terrible job. I have hair again.
So why am I in such a fog?
I have true happiness when I'm with the three boys, or any variation of the three, and they're trying to one-up each other with ridiculousness. I truly am happy at the theater. I truly am happy living in the house I live in, and the land and the pond that comes with it are out of this world. The beauty is incredible. Being there makes me feel even closer to God.
Other than that, I feel like I'm living in my own world, and only snap out of it periodically. I feel like I have a wall built around my heart all the time when I'm not with the kids. Even when I'm laughing, or smiling, which is almost all the time, I feel like I'm not really present.
I wish I knew what this was all about. I think I know, and I do think part of it is the aftermath of cancer, when sure, you might be healthy, but you're always waiting for what's next. And there are always, always more bills, even when you think that every department in every medical facility in the tri-state area has already billed you. It seems like a hole I will never be able to crawl out of, and it's on my mind a lot.
My college degree, as I suspected, has not changed my life at all, but I do miss college. I don't know if no longer having that routine and facing the everyday drudgery of work again is part of it, either.
I JUST DON'T KNOW. I don't KNOW. And it's bugging the crap out of me.
Thank God for music.