It's been a loooooooooong ass time...

Since I last posted. Sorry about that. What happened? Well...

It's a weird story. Basically, my father in law (henceforth FIL for those not familiar with the internet shorthand) got remarried. Except he did it in the most ass way possible.

I knew he had been on some dates. But he didn't every really talk about them. If Josh called and he wasn't home, when the call was returned, he said he was hanging out at his friend's house. With no reason to think he was hiding anything I believed him.

Then, last June he called and told Josh he had a girlfriend and had had a girlfriend for about six months. Ok. That was a revalation that was going to take some time to process. So the processing began and the emotions started churning and as anyone who has ever lost a parent or parent in law knows, it's effing hard when the remaining parent moves into the dating stage.

So the processing was going along ok until he called a week, maybe two weeks, later and dropped the bombshell that they were getting married.

Yeah.

So suffice it to say that really, really fucked me up emotionally. I want to be clear here, I had no reservations about his choice of person, I know my FIL is a sensible person and he's not going to marry a jerk or a gold digger or anything like that. I also knew that he would remarry at some point and that is ok. But well, when you hide your dating, then hide your girlfriend then decide to marry her before either of us have ever laid eyes on her, that's fucked up. Really, really fucked up.

We met her shortly thereafter and yes, she was perfectly nice, and yes I do like her quite a bit, but it's taken about a year to stop feeling like he punched me in the gut, kicked Josh in balls, ran over my cats with a steam roller and set fire to my house. I know he didn't mean to hurt me this bad, but well, he did and that takes a while to recover from.

So that really effed me up in the head. I went six months and didn't do a lick of cross stitch. 'Nuff said.

Anyway, i'm back now, and thought I would start up the ol' blog again. There have been other developments, but i'll fill you in on those later. (Spolier alert: NO I am NOT pregnant!)

Last Week Was a Very, Very, Very Bad Week.

Monday I met my potential new boss and had a pretty large anxiety attack over that. (Wasted anxiety, she was really cool and I think I would work well with her.)

Tuesday, I think, was ok.

Wednesday I went for a six month cleaning at my dentist and found out I need four more fillings at a cost of $607 dollars. I don't have $607. I do have a Care Credit Card which was almost paid off, but my cleaning was $170 and I didn't have that so i'll be paying GE Money Bank for another year. Oh and of course the super fun time at the dentist while he crams stuff into my teeth holes.

Thursday I went to check in at Manda's Blog to find out she had passed away. Very, very sad.

Friday I got up put on my last clean pair of jeans, my last clean sweatshirt and was about to leave for work when Wally and Jules got into it big time in the kitchen. Wally got his ear scratched pretty bad and in running under the bed to hide got blood on the bedroom door, the wall beside my dresser, the dresser itself, and the carpet, so I was cleaning up blood right before work. Driving to work the gas light on the car came on. Normally we would have been paid on Friday, but the way the days fell this month we will get paid on Tuesday. So low on gas, low on groceries, low on money.

So that's why I didn't post last week. Let's hope this week is better.

Not Oscar Bait.

So I'm starting to doubt that I have a sleep disorder. Basically I don't feel any better on the meds i'm on for the hypersomnia, and they don't seem to be having any effect at all. If anything i've noticed myself getting worse these last few months and certainly these last few weeks.

I'm on a low dose of the Provigil, but I think I should notice it doing something. The Ritalin and the Vyvanse made me jittery, but I wasn't much more awake, alert or energetic on them.

Here lately I've been getting up, taking the Provigil and needing a nap about two hours later. Yesterday I took my morning dose and my afternoon dose then went home and slept two and half hours. Clearly it's not working.

Furthering my doubt along is that I don't always feel sleepy. I want to lay down, I want to close my eyes and I can surely sleep. But I don't always feel sleepy. I often feel worn out, wrung out, generally crappy. Like i'm still getting over a flu. Like I still have Mono (that was ten years ago BTW). Like my blood is made of lead. Something is wrong here and I don't think it's that my brain is confused about whether it's day or night.

Now let me be clear about this: I am not upset with my doctors for possibly diagnosing me with the wrong thing. As far as doctors go I have rolled 20s each time. I think they have put forth a yoeman effort in trying to figure out what the hell is going on here. But fatigue is the king of non specific symptoms and it's baffled and eluded some of the best doctors in the world.

So i'm back on the treadmill of doctors appointments for the time being. At the very least it'll give me something to write about in next year's Christmas letter.

A whole other reason to call it the Dethcruiser.

Josh and I are fans of the show Metalocalypse. If you aren't familiar with this offering from Adult Swim it's about the wacky, and often deadly, adventures of the most popular heavy metal band on Earth, Dethklok.

Of course things that surround Dethklok are as Metal as possible. For instance their motorcycle with four side cars (so the whole band can ride along) is called the Murdercycle. You get the idea.

So Josh and I started calling our car, a PT Cruiser, the Dethcruiser. We had even thought about getting some kick ass graphics on the back window that said Dethcruiser. (Only with the little dots over the e like all good metal bands have since they can't use an a.)

But now that isn't funny anymore. The Insurance Institute for Highway Saftey has named the PT Cruiser the most dangerous new small car in America.

Not that I was planning on putting a bun in the oven any time soon, but this was supposed to be our family car. The one to stick the little n00bs in to go see Grandma, to go to the beach, to drive to the Asheboro Zoo. So when I do decide to get good and knocked up not only will we need a bigger house, but we'll also need a different car.

In the meantime this is one more thing to give me panic attacks as we drive all over 2/3s of North Carolina like, next week.

Now to await the reports that American Girl Dolls are made of cyanide and that cross stitching gives you cancer.