Head, shoulders, knees, and toes…

and hands!

The countdown to my beau’s hand surgery is getting pretty low. Two days! He’s getting so nervous, poor guy. I don’t blame him for being upset at having to lose the use of one of his appendages for 2 months. But, it’s for the best, as the orthopedic specialists and surgeon say that he’ll continue to lose strength in his ring and little fingers on that hand if he doesn’t get it.

So, the full story:

Tyler is one of those people who wears a variety of hats at work. He manages the warehouse, the fleet vehicles, the IT, and most of the facility maintenance. Basically, all the things that none of the other management either don’t know how to do, or don’t have time to do get stuck under Tyler’s area of expertise because he has worked in all of the above industries, and understands how to do these things efficiently.

In the middle of setting up his warehouse at a new warehouse location, he’s been getting pulled off of these important tasks that need to be done so that the plumbers in the company’s employ can perform their job. He has to get all their supplies re-shelved and organized and get this place up and running ASAP. The thing is, he gets pulled away from this to do little things around the office like: hang brackets for monitors, set up cameras, scoot office furniture around, etc. Things that most adults with basic reading and hand/eye coordination skills can do.

Now, after a day of these tasks which are meaningless to the plumbers that he’s supposed to be supplying with things from the warehouse that’s supposed to be getting organized, the owner of the company, who has been the person impeding his progress in the warehouse by having him do random things around the office, tells him that his progress in the warehouse is unsatisfactory (in much less professional terms). Rather than punching the owner in the face, he punched a water heater (near it’s crest). This dislocated two of his fingers, and broke 3 of the bones in his hand.

Now, he will be having this surgery on Wednesday to put screws and pins into these bones to hold them together so that they will heal properly. The owner has since let up on him a bit, and hasn’t been disrupting his progress nearly as much. They even hired an extra person, so there are now 2 workers under Tyler in the warehouse. Hopefully, this helps expedite the organization of the warehouse so he can get to work on some of the equipment that needs repair, and fleet vehicles that need maintenance.

I have to say, though. Having his hand injured, and needing to thrive without an appendage that he has come to rely on so much, has really gotten to him. He says that he feels like he shouldn’t have let anyone get him so angry as to have hurt himself.

Tyler really is a sweet guy, and so when he mentioned the possibility of taking anger management classes, I immediately told him that if he felt he needed it, that it’s a wonderful idea! I even volunteered to go with him. Lord knows I’ve got some road rage issues, and could stand to manage stress-related anger better as well. So, once the hand is sorted out, we’ve decided to do the classes together.

I normally don’t post that often, but I’ll likely doing another post on either Wednesday post-surgery after I get him back home, or Thursday. That way everyone knows how he’s doing.


Decisions, decisions…

Since having decided to start submitting my writing to various places, I’ve become aware of the myriad of contests available! One which I’ve entered (a short story contest by the Texas Observer) starts posting the stories of the finalists in September. So, even if I don’t win the prize, if I place in the finals at least my story is published, and my name is “out there” in a publication, so that’s all I hope for. Please, dear god, just let me be a finalist.

If you’re out there, and struggling with the decision of whether or not to submit your writing to a journal, or enter it in a contest– Just do it. Stop telling yourself right now that your writing isn’t good enough. Believe me. Even if you’re rejected, or you don’t win or even place in a contest, keep going. Someone, somewhere, at some publication will go for your stuff. You just have to find your niche.

Concentrate on what your target audience is, and find publications or publishers or contests that are aimed at that target audience, and perhaps you’ll find your place. I haven’t found mine yet, but I’m confident that I will.

So what if your writing is ‘weird’. Guess what? There’s a whole weird world out there waiting for it.


I tried really, really hard to sleep in today, since rainy weather tends to make me feel sleepy. Today, however, I just couldn’t stay in bed, no matter how much I wanted to. So, instead, I’m sitting in front of my computer with a ridiculously large cup of coffee. I’ve already finished the stuff I set out to do for the morning-

Got the mail, mailed off other stuff, cleaned up the apartment, took out the trash, set out chicken to thaw for dinner, and vacuumed.

Apparently, today is just going to be one of those days that drags it’s ass, and just doesn’t want to get going. So often, my days pass so quickly, that I can’t say where the time went, and I’m left wishing the day would slow the fuck down. Today, though, is much different. What the hell am I supposed to do with the rest of my day?

Of course, I realize there are a myriad of projects that I could be working on. I could be knitting, or writing (haha! see, that’s just what I’m doing now), or sketching, or doing something really random and adventurous. But at what point do these projects and hobbies become “worth the time”? When will I be able to just do what interests me without feeling like I ought to be doing something more useful, more profitable, or more “worthwhile”? And yet, I know these things are, of themselves, valuable–not just to me as hobbies, but to society as a whole. Where would we be without people who use these skills of expression? But at the same time, it’s society that tells us that these things are now becoming pointless and obsolete.

These days, you have to run, not walk. Making that paper is shades more important than taking time for yourself to relieve stress by expressing yourself creatively. Even though science tells us that stress is one of the big culprits attributed with the rise of ill health in recent generations. When did money become more important than health?

More importantly? How will we begin to take back our time and our health without feeling like the venture is “pointless”?

Let’s Just Do More Dumb Shit

So, I was feeling way super insanely insecure this morning about my still-kind-of-new relationship with possibly the greatest man ever. Tyler is a wonderful guy. I love him dearly, and I know he loves me. But just something about today seemed off, so I did what I always do when something is bothering me- I sat down and wrote it out. It’s wonderful therapy, and I highly recommend it. The level of clarity you get is phenomenal.

It turned into a 3-page letter to Tyler explaining why I felt so suddenly insecure about things, and I’m tempted to put a copy of it up here so you guys can see how incredibly clingy and needy I can be. Anyway, after I finished, all of the insecurity just kind of disappeared. Everything I expressed concern about in the letter is completely unfounded, and frankly, I feel super-derpy for having let it get me upset. I laughed. It’s freeing to laugh at yourself so hard that you can’t breathe. Or it might mean that I’m kind of crazy and emotionally unstable. Either way, I feel 100% more secure about our relationship now, having just gotten all that random-ass crap from this morning out of my head.

So, here’s what happened- Tyler and I are engaged, but it’s still a relatively new thing. He was getting ready for work this morning, and asked what I was doing. I replied that I was writing in my journal. He laughed, and said,

“Dear Diary, my boyfriend is the worst ever,”

Aside from that of course being a horrible, self-depreciating joke on his part (which we’re going to discuss later, because it bothers me that he does that to himself so often), he called himself my boyfriend. Not my fiance. That bothered me. A lot. Like, a ridiculous amount. I didn’t stop to think, “Oh, hey, this is still a new thing, he’s not used to referring to himself as my fiance yet.” No. My crazy-female-brain decided, “Oh shit! Are we not engaged anymore? What happened? What went wrong?”

HA! Joke’s on you, brain! Nothing went wrong. Now, what to do with this dumb letter…

I texted Tyler, and told him I wrote him a really stupid insecure letter about something that was ridiculous to get upset over, and now we’re planning to read it together when he gets home, and laugh about it.

Some of it might show up in some poetry later on. Insecure me apparently comes up with some really great poetic shit.

Being a human is so overwhelming, sometimes.

Instant Regret

I do things sometimes, without fully thinking them through. But this isn’t the case right now. I considered this decision for a full month before saying, “Hey, I’m going to submit to one of my favorite lit journals!”

Even before I drafted my bio and started the email, I was reconsidering the decision. I wouldn’t call it having second thoughts though. Second thoughts were about a month ago. For the last 3 weeks, I’ve been writing and deleting the submission email- about twice a day. We’re talking 50th thoughts here.

I hit the “Send” button today.

I can’t take that back.

It’s sent.

It’s gone.

Maybe they won’t see it. I could potentially get lost in the slew of submissions that they probably get daily. I’d be okay with that. That sounds nice. It’s just lost. Lost is good. I mean, I’m lost half the time too, and I’m okay. It’s okay if it gets lost.

Can I email them and ask them to reject it? I’m okay with rejection. Rejection and I are bros. Is that against the rules? I think I’ll do that. But then that doesn’t make sense. They’ll feel like I wasted their time. I don’t want to waste their time.

Then, why did I send it in the first place?

I guess I can’t fix this.