Waiting For The Storm

I don't remember whether or not my parents listened closely to the weather reports or that the weather people told of impending storms more than a week away. I do know that I have been hearing about how we're going to have a "big storm" this weekend for about a week now. It was a winter storm watch yesterday so I went grocery shopping. I was told this morning that it was a Winter Storm Warning starting at 3pm. When it started to flurry around 2:15 I thought, uh-oh...earlier than they predicted, maybe it's going to be more than they thought. However, it only snowed for about an hour and now, it's 8:15pm and it's only snowing lightly again. There were a few flakes around 6:30 but nothing that stuck and definitely not the "SNOWMAGEDDON" they have been warning us about. I'm happy it's not too bad and I know that things can change and I could wake up tomorrow to a foot of snow, but for now, I'm just waiting.

I remember the Blizzard of '79 where we got FEET of snow and school was actually canceled and our garage roof collapsed. I remember the Valentine's Day blizzard a few years back when I had to trudge through snowbanks to be one of the only people to go to work (and our heater died).

I like snowstorms. Or I like at least 1 snowstorm a season. I like how it makes everything clean and quiet. I like getting the exercise of shoveling. I like making the first tracks in the snow. When I lived in Florida, people didn't understand that I missed snow. I guess growing up with it, you have a fondness for it.

So I'm ready for whatever happens. I have food. I have books. I am watching movies and Blue Planet II on Netflix. The NFL Playoffs are on TV on Sunday. The cats are snuggling on the couch and in their beds.

I'll let you know tomorrow if I have changed my mind about the snow.

2019 Starts As A Blank Slate...Can't Wait To See How I Fill It

I'm back! After taking 2018 off from blogging, I'm ready to get at it again. I should be able to take a few minutes every day to write something, thoughts, worries, hopes, dreams, insights and hopefully, many adventures.

As the clock struck midnight, ushering in a new year, I lay in bed watching revelers in Chicago kiss, dance, drink, cheer and whatever else happens on TV. Thankfully my neighborhood didn't erupt in the usual gunfire and fireworks. Then I thought about the year that had passed and how I was starting 2019. I am honestly starting with a lot less than I had hoped. I have a negative bank account balance, I'm off from my fantastic (but seasonal) job, my car is broken down so I don't even have the ability to do my "off season" job of driving for Lyft.  

However, I don't want to focus on what I don't have. I want to focus on what I do have and the prospects of what I can achieve in the upcoming year. I have a roof over my head. I have clothes to wear. I have food to eat. I have three cats that love to cuddle. I have the chance to advance my career to the next level. Captain's class is going to be tough, but it's going to be worth it. And I have the best support system around from my colleagues who have become good friends in just 2 short years. My mother used to tell a story of a determined look I'd get on my face when there's something I really want. I really want to pass this class so I'm hoping that look is planted on my face permanently (or at least until I'm done with the tests). 

Becoming a Captain is the big goal for 2019 but I have some smaller ones too. I'd like to read more. I think I can try for a book a week. Amazon sends me a free book every month and I'm a good 6 months behind on those to read. I bought a couple of books for a train ride sometime early last year, and one of them remain unopened. 

I'd like to write more. I'd like to blog/journal every day. It's a great way of getting down what happened, keeping me on track for my goals, and remembering where I've been. 

I'd like to take an actual vacation at the end of the year. I don't know if it will be a cruise, a trip to Vegas (which I've only driven through), a trip to somewhere I've never been, or even just renting a cabin up in Door County for a long weekend. I haven't been on a vacation in over 7 years, I think it's time. 

Other than that I just want to continue being the passionate, slightly wacky, intelligent, honest, loyal, creative, good friend, good cook & goddess that I am!

Thanks again for reading and thanks for joining me on my 2019 journey.

What a Year It's Been!

Exactly one year ago today, around 4am, I gathered up my few belongings from the Extended Stay America, dragged the cats into their carriers and loaded everything I owned into my car and left California. I was in Las Vegas by breakfast time, out of Utah by dinner, and resting at a rest stop in Nebraska when the time change happened. I pulled into the familiar driveway of the apartment building in Chicago around 5:30pm on Sunday, unloaded the cats (who had been very well behaved through the journey) and went out and got a Lou Malnati's pizza, which I ate by the light of a string of Christmas lights. This was my time to start over. My time to leave the bad things that happened in California behind. To come "home."

In the past year I've reconnected with old friends, gotten a job I never thought I would have, made new friends, lost weight, and really gotten back to being Robin. It hasn't been easy. My car got repossessed in January. When I got my job in March I had a negative balance in my bank account that had been negative for probably 2 months. I was relying on Eric's mom to buy me food and pay my bus fare to go to job interviews. When I first got back, I had 2 pairs of shoes, 1 pair of jeans, and one bra. Slowly, but surely things got better. I got some new furniture, a new TV, a microwave, and was able to start replacing my kitchen stuff that I had left behind. My job allowed me to buy my own groceries, pay my own bus fare and even get some new clothes. I was able to buy a new a/c unit and a TV for the bedroom. I was able to get cable TV again and a new iPhone. I could even go out to dinner or go see a movie. The job also helped with the weight loss. Being a deckhand was a lot more physical than I ever imagined but it has been so much fun. I've met great people and made some really good friends. I go out after work for drinks, I go to movies, I joined a fantasy football league, I participate in a gaming group with co-workers.

So, one year later, I got up this morning, fed the cats, ordered some groceries, cooked breakfast and watched TV by the light of an actual lamp. I've moved forward this year. I've done a lot more than just coming home. I still have a way to go, but that way is definitely up!

One More Week

Next week at this time I will be at orientation for my new job as a deckhand with the Wendella Sightseeing Co. and I can't wait! I need to get into a new routine, I need a sense of purpose, a place to go every day.

Since I left California and came back "home", I have had a couple of routines. The first one involved getting the apartment back into a livable condition. That was fine because I was busy all day. I was shopping or cleaning or throwing things out or building furniture or reuniting with old friends, introducing myself back to Chicago. Then came the holidays and there was baking and cooking added to the mix. I was also job hunting the entire time. Sending out resume after resume, but it's very hard to get a job during the holidays when many of the decision makers are out of the office.

So, after the holidays and after going through the money I had to sustain me while on this transition, I got into a routine that I'm not really happy with. I'd get up in the morning, feed the cats, feed the birds, watch the news, watch some game shows, watch The Chew, give the cats a snack, watch more game shows, watch the news, watch a movie or something on TV, feed the cats and then go to bed. I ventured out a couple of times; even after the car got repossessed I walked to the pharmacy, the grocery store, or the post office. I went downtown and took the train out to the suburbs to have lunch with a friend. But mostly my routine was the same day in and day out. The cats mostly sleep during the day and sometimes I did too. I play games on my phone. I was starting to get a little stir crazy. Hell, I've even been spending time watching a giraffe that could, according to all the sites running the video, "at any moment" have a baby. I had the desire to go out, but no funds to do it. Eric's Mom takes me grocery shopping every Saturday, but that's necessity and errands.

I did get excited about the thought of going to pastry/baking school and I am still excited about that, but also aware that it costs money and financial aid will only help a little bit, so that dream may be put on hold.

Luckily, I applied to Wendella one afternoon. I have fond memories of taking the water taxi from the train station to the Wrigley Building in the morning and back in the afternoons. It was relaxing. It was quiet, and it was way more fun than the bus! So I went in for an interview on a sunny, warm Friday and was told I only needed to pass a drug test and a background check. So I took my drug test the same afternoon I had the interview and filled out the background check the Monday after the interview and last Wednesday was told I got the job! Yay!

So, next Monday I have orientation all day. Then I'll have 3 days of (paid) training and then I can officially start as a deckhand. It will be challenging but it will be fun. I'll get to meet all sorts of new people, share my love of Chicago with people who are just visiting, and probably get to know a few of the regular commuters. This will be an excellent kick-start to my new routine. I'll also be making money so when I have some time off I can go to a movie, or to lunch, or to buy my own groceries and pay my own cell phone bill. I'll also get to put a little money away for culinary school. No one ever said starting over was easy, but I consider this a big step towards making me feel like Robin again.

I Don't Like Mondays

Well, ok...maybe just not the last two Mondays. Some Mondays are OK. Like next Monday is a holiday so I won't have to go to work and can sit at home for an extra day and celebrate our country's independence with bbq, fireworks and maybe a parade or two. A lot of holidays fall on Mondays giving those of us with jobs a nice 3 day weekend. Of course, it means more work the other 4 days of the week, but it is nice to extend the days of relaxing just a bit longer.

However, the past two Mondays have not been the best. Last Monday at work I was very busy, which usually makes the day go by faster so it's not so bad. But unfortunately I was busy with people not listening to me, people complaining, computers not working properly, grumpy people, and just an all around general not good day. I survived that day although it did wear me out and leave me a bit discouraged for the rest of the week. I survived that one though, had a really enjoyable weekend and went to bed last night ready to face another week of work.

First thing that happened last night was that my female cat, Elsie, jumped up on my bed, which isn't unusual for her, usually she likes to sleep with me. This time however, she jumped on the end of my bed and proceeded to do something that is usually done in her litter box. Ugh. I didn't realize she did this until around 4am this morning when I woke up with terrible cramps from my monthly visitor, (aunt flo, period, menstrual cycle) whatever you want to call it. I got up and went to sit on the end of the bed to get out my Tylenol, only to discover what she had done. Well, it had dried up pretty much by that point so that was fine. The Tylenol wasn't kicking in, so I decided to get up. At which point Elsie decides to jump on my bed again and this time urinate all over the center of it. Well, ok...now not only do I have extremely bad cramps, but now I am definitely going to have to take the day off to go wash my sheets, comforter, and whatever else I can find that she perhaps soiled overnight. So, I go to our laundromat, which is right next door to a Dunkin Donuts thinking I would get an iced coffee to enjoy while waiting. Well, there's a homeless man outside and he is literally "FOLLOWING" people who walk out of Dunkin Donuts to their cars begging for money. I decided to stay in the laundromat.

Laundry is finished. I get home (in a rain storm), and my cell phone needs to be charged, so I plug it into my computer to find that there is something wrong with my iTunes library. So now, I end up with only 26 songs on my iPhone and those are only songs I have purchased in the past 2 weeks. I also discover that MOST of my music is missing from my iTunes library. I check my hard drive which says the music is in there. But it's not. So I attempt to move my iTunes folder on my hard drive back into my iTunes library. I am still working on it. It gets in between 730 and 812 songs and then freezes. Then I have to shut down my computer, reboot and then start all over again, where it will stick at 806 this time. As Charlie Brown would say--

I would like to be resting, sleeping, enjoying this unexpected day off in my nice clean sheets but instead I am sitting on the couch, reading Bon Appetit and Travel & Leisure (wondering if I could move to the Caribbean and live off of grilled shrimp and Sriracha), and crossing my fingers that the 5th or 6th time is the charm with my iTunes library.

Sometimes I think life was a lot easier before technology. And sometimes I think life would be a lot easier without Mondays.

Frankie Say Relax

I, like thousands, maybe even millions of people, suffer from panic attacks. They started for me when I was 29 after a horrible year where I lost my step-father, a baby, and my mother all within 6 months of each other. The first time I had one, I was exercising. I was walking along Sheridan Road in Wilmette, IL, listening to music and probably about a mile from home. All of a sudden I couldn't see anything. The world went black. I got very cold and my heart rate jumped to an alarming rate. I stood there and calmly waited until I could see again and walked home. I didn't think anything of it. Thought maybe I was exercising too hard.

I didn't have another one for a couple of weeks. That one happened while I was in the bathroom. My scalp got all tingly and then all of a sudden, up goes the heart rate again. I literally thought I was having a heart attack. This only made things worse and I started to cry. I called a friend of mine over and she thought maybe my boyfriend at the time had done something horrible. I said, "no, I just seem to be out of control." So she took me over to my doctor's office. My doctor wasn't in, but I saw a colleague of his who said that it was a classic panic attack. She prescribed a small sample of Paxil. I went home, took the Paxil, and immediately, the veins in my wrist started bulging, as if to say "cut me here!" I called my boyfriend and he talked to me until the feeling went away. Well after 2 days on Paxil, I did not feel any better and now could not leave my house. I was "panicking" every 2 hours or so. I could still get up and feed the cats, but even the thought of opening the door to get the mail was too much.

I was sent to a psychologist who prescribed a different anti-depressant. I went home, took one half of one pill...and immediately vomited like I hadn't done for days. I decided pills were not for me. I let the panic attacks go on for about 3 months. I would lay in bed at night and look out the window at the fire station across the street, waiting for the moment when I would call the paramedics. I managed to get myself to the grocery store, but sometimes would have to leave a cart full of groceries because I was sure I was going to pass out. I went blind while driving once, which was not good, but I simply pulled over and waited until I could see again and drove home. I felt best in my bed, in my home, but realized that this was no way to live. I went to the hospital a couple of times, but was sent home and told I was fine.

My friend who had originally taken me to see the doctor, thought maybe it was because I was about to turn 30. I didn't think that was such a big deal. She suggested her psychologist and I made an appointment to see Charlie. I drove there in tears, I spent the entire hour with him in tears. I was going to London to celebrate my 30th birthday in about a week so he suggested I come see him every day until then. He truly helped me. I just needed to talk about everything that had happened and it made me feel better. I was still having the attacks, but they weren't as strong and I could get out of the house.

I made it to London, although I spent the entire flight over there, dry heaving in the lavatory. I was able to do some things in London but sometimes felt that I had to get back to the hotel, and had a couple of nights where I was wondering what the hospitals in London were like.

When I got home, I saw Charlie, once a week for the next 6 months. I could now go for weeks at a time without a panic attack. But I still had them. I remember one particularly bad one where I was driving back from Wisconsin and kept thinking at every exit, "I don't want to die in a McDonald's bathroom."

I still suffer from panic attacks. They are not as bad as they were, and I can go months without having one. The funny thing is that when I have one, and I'm not afraid to tell someone when it's happening, is that without a doubt everyone asks "Why?" Well, now, that's a silly question. If I knew WHY I was having the panic attack I could stop it. I simply tell them that very thing, and tell them to just keep talking to me or to let me walk around and I will be fine. I had one at work today, my left arm went numb and my chest hurt, but I simply told myself I was ok and if I passed out, so what? I still, to this day, have never passed out.

Panic attacks are scary. I don't recommend them to anyone and if you haven't had one, I'm not sure I can describe it. For me, it feels like my throat is closing up and that my heart is going to explode it is beating so fast. I also feel like I can't breathe, although I am able to take long, deep breaths. They are also scary because I never know when they are coming. I had one a couple of days ago in bed as I was falling asleep. I know, sounds like I should be relaxed at that time, but apparently not. That's why these are so damn scary and down right annoying.

Now, I don't have anything against anti-depressants or anti-anxiety medication. They simply did not work for me. I figured they were masking the problem and that I had to deal with my problem head on.

I have found that what works for me is talking to someone. When I talk to someone, I simply want them to talk about whatever they want. NOT about the panic attack itself, and definitely not to ask me "WHY?" When I don't have someone to talk to, I have a very wonderful nurse cat, who follows me around until I decide to settle down someplace and then he places his big black paw on my hand and lets me pet him until I fall asleep.

So if you meet me someday and I happen to have a panic attack, please don't ask me "WHY?" Simply tell me about your day, because I can guarantee its going a lot better than mine.