So There I Was

....that was such a long day.

I came home, finished my book, went to bed and 13 hours later the cat is reaching under the quilt to stroke my cheek with his hand...

"Are you dead? I'm hungry."

Again last night I had that strange dream
where everything was exactly how it seemed
don't wake me, I plan on sleeping in
don't wake me, I plan on sleeping in

Flitter Flutter

I actually had this big long post written in my head about what I was thinking after my massage yesterday but considering I got 4 hours of sleep, was at base stores at 7:45 am picking up green things all morning, then buying boot bands and boot polish, dropping off the proof that I got a new driver's licence (you should have SEEN the look the woman got when she said "this says you had to be here by the 17th", I'm suprised - and disappointed - that she didn't have an aneurysm right there), tried to jam all that stuff in the 'house', threw on combat boots that'd been full of hot water for an hour (squish squish) and came to work.

Where I have 45 minutes till I'm off so I can get gas, get home about 11:45 pm, find clothes to wear tomorrow, pack a lunch, pry my feet out of these wet boots, go to sleep, get up at 6:30 am so I can figure out which of the 200 pieces of green clothing go together so I can be properly dressed and be at the unit by 8 am for a full day to 2 pm, at which time I have to forcefully leave and get to work at 2:30 for a full shift.

I'm not complaining, mind, I'm just trying to be 'splaining why you are getting such a pathetic post.

Not to mention that I sized my boots for the "BIG" foot and now the "LITTLE" foot is so sliding around in there and I think that is very very bad news. I think I may have to go in on Monday and beg for the smaller size that I turned my nose up at this morning, opting instead to stretch one out.

And don't even get me started on my great big head and that damn beret.

We, at work, are all a little googly tonight. And very unoriginal....

"Hi darlin', what you got?"
"There's a chest in the hall."
"Oh my god! Does that mean there's a foot in the bathroom?"

badda-bing

Although, right now this very moment, I can hear the man from the ER who just had a stroke giggling with the xray techs - and that is a happy sound in the midst of an unhappy event.

And I, ladies and gentlemen, have (among other things) five pairs of the CUTEST green boxer shorts EVER. I just love boys clothes.

tee hee

I'm alive, I can feel the blood rushin' thru my veins
and that's all I need to know, cuz I'm not lookin' for a change
cuz I've got friends and enemies, but it just don't bother me,
cuz as long as I believe, I can breathe

Hither and Yon (modified)

From another place.....and another Jen....

Here's a little secret sort of a thing I've never told anyone, living or dead. Back when, I used to have an elaborate escape plan. I knew where I was going, how I was going to live, the phone number of a landlord in Vermont, the rental rate on a three room bungalow on a country road, ways to prevent anyone from finding me, how much cash I needed up front and where it was coming from, when the time came.

It never did.

But I still have the plan.

And now you know.

And that made me really think - what am I doing? Why, I'm doing exactly what I want. I'm living my escape plan.

It's important for me to remember and for you to know, though, that I am only living this life because I can see what every other one would be like. To live any other would be to refuse to make a choice - I've lived that way for a long time - and we all know that, in itself, is it's own kind of choice and so this becomes the only way I can see to go now.

The insane part of it is - I forget that I'm living my escape plan all the time now. Because in the end, really, it's just living.

And, just like living any other way, it's full of danger and fear and joy and beauty and tears.

Any life is subject to the hurtful opinions of others, the offhanded unthoughtout remarks of the people we purport to love, the people we think we respect. It's just as full of those who make decisions about you and for you that impact you based on their skewed perception of what you have that they don't.

It is also, as much as we decide to make it be, just as full of laughter and heart-stopping moments as any other choice we make. No matter where, geographically, we are.

I think all that matters is where we are in our hearts. Whether we choose to be there all the time, or not.

So, while the reminder that I'm living my own escape plan is well-placed and well-timed (though not intended to be), I also have to admit that it's far too easy to become caught up in the world around me. That one that maybe never applied to me but applies even less now. That one that I always let color my own beliefs and darken my interior perception of just who I am.

That, and one or two other things lately, are prompting the niggling voice that insists that part of this just isn't going to do for much longer.

Which is a good thing. But, added? right now? Makes me full to bursting.

I'm home from work today - which I feel utterly terrible about; mostly because we have so few staff members right now that one of us being sick negatively impacts everyone else. I can't say I have the flu per se but it seems I have the flu-shot, combined with just a general ennui stemming from the 8 million things weighing on my mind, 5 million of which need to be dealt with or accomplished RIGHT NOW.

Not the least of which is changing bank accounts to a bank that I can actually access from where I LIVE and all the associated headaches of changing direct deposit and automated transfers to coordinate with each other. Gah, even the thought of that gives me the shudders. Imagine, just for a moment, how badly that could go.

I'm just all up in my head - planning, calculating, dodging, adapting - and the only dispatches from the 'outside' world are negative. Unhappy. Disconcerting. Sometimes, suprising, from left field, so that I think "How could I have missed that one coming?" when really, if I'm honest, I saw it coming all along.

I can't say any of it makes me angry - because anger is something I need to apply only when absolutely warranted - I'm trying to train myself into a reasoned ability to anger - anything less will only be detrimental in the months ahead with the military. No instinctive emotional anger. Choose your battles. I get better at that every day.

And now, today? One step at a time. Rethink. Regroup. It's not a retreat, as the army may say, it is advancing in a slightly different direction.

I need to get my licence changed over. Now.

I need to sleep. As much as it takes.

I decided yesterday that, affordability aside, I need to have someone beat these knots that keep my shoulders up by my ears since my return to Canada.

One of the things I (re)learned on my trip is that it's up to me to get the information I need - not the person I'm asking - so if one approach isn't working then another (and another) must be tried until success is achieved.

Because, it's up to me. Isn't it?

I called around for a massage place ....

me: "Hi, is there someone there who specializes in deep-tissue massage?"
she: "Well, we all learn the same thing and we're actually not allowed to say we specialize."
me: "Hmm, okay, so let me try it this way - deep tissue is what I need and the last time I made an appointment I got in only to be told the therapist didn't -believe in doing things that way- and right now, that's really not going to help me one tiny bit."
she: "ha, Well we do have two people who will do it and one who probably won't."
me: "Great, can you make me an appointment with one of the ones that will?"

Deal with one piece of the puzzle at a time. Start with the ones that will postively impact one's ability to deal with the next. And so on. And so on.



And just then, as I typed that last sentence, the sun suddenly shone through my window, the first time I've seen it since Australia...

...only to be gone again, just as quietly, five minutes later.

would you please get our from under my skin
for I can't begin this yet
and I don't know what my intentions are
they're speaking in a different tongue
and deep inside, I'm not as tough as I seem
but I won't let you know
until it's right, I'm gonna stay my distance
and you should go

crazy as it all plays out
I think I'm lonelier than I've ever been before
'cause I was so close
to going through that door
but I don't want to be to blame for them
I don't want to be to blame

Bring On The Troops

I'm standing outside in the rain with one of the veterans on Remembrance day at the Legion when we were joined by a couple of my superiors (MCpl) who chatted briefly before returning inside.

The veteran turns to me and says, "Oh my, that young man there has quite a thing for you."

Of course, since they're both the same age, both pretty attractive and dressed in matching uniforms, neither of us have any idea which one he's talking about.

Later, one of them turns out to be the bad cop and the other - the even badder cop - as I spend a good hour being raked over the coals in regards to my worthlessness and nothingness. In a social setting no less.

On my first day.

At the end of which, I came to the realization that he wasn't going to stop until I hit him. Or I cried.

So I made a conscious decision to cry.

Becuase if I hit someone, I expect them to hit me back. And I best be in good form. And, yanno, it's a bad idea to hit a superior. That, at least, I know.

However, I am none the wiser as to which one it is that's going to be a problem.

Because it IS a problem. Superior. 9 - 11 years younger.

If I assume it's not the one who came right out and said, "I'm going to hit on you at some point." then it's badder cop. If I assume it's the one who watched me all the time when he thought I wasn't looking, then it's still badder cop.

Bad cop, he's just playing the game, going along, getting along, dressing downs ending in recognition that in the end, in his eyes, it's merit based. But badder cop is the more superior in rank of the two, the acknowledged jerk by the rest of the troops and the one who won't stop until you're in tears or striking out. Because he's a man's man, it's a man's army and he is a true believer with a healthy dose of whatever complex it is that makes one so gleeful in their imagined and arbitrarily bestowed superiority.

Let's hope one of us is working on their impulse control.

am I more than you bargained for yet
I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear
cause that's just who I am this week

If There WERE A God - He Would Give Me Someone To Strangle

I'll just preface this by saying that now that my fever and general blah-ness from the multitude of spider bites is abating and I have finally gotten two good sleeps in a row, I had to go get my flu shot yesterday.

So, fever (HI! haven't seen you for ohhh, 2 days! Didya miss me?) and I am still so tired that I made tacos for dinner and looked at all of the fixin's for a moment before hauling out a big bowl, tossing it all in, crumbling a bunch of taco shells in and getting a big spoon.

Okay, so first let me go back to the part where my management company has no licence....

I emailed them and asked them what was up and they responded (in incomplete sentences and bad grammar) that the licence renewal was in process, would take a month and the woman who wrote the letter to me was just a bit too gung-ho.

Okay. Fine.

Now, normally they collect the rent and it hits my bank account between the 11th and the 15th. Which, yanno, works for me cause I have rent to pay on the 15th.

Normally, not such a big deal if something went wrong - except right now where I'm not receiving paycheques (due to not being at work for a month).

Soooo, that money was needed to cover my loan, my mortgage, my rent and a couple bills and when it still wasn't there today and things were beginning to bounce left right and center, I was getting a bit worried.

I call my bank. Tell them the money will be there tomorrow. They say 'okay'. I'll still have to pay the penalties but they won't return any of it.

I email the management company and ask them what's up.

Apparantly the accountant's mother died and she'll be back on Friday to deposit everything.

What can I say to that, really, without being a total hag?

Okay, no worries - I can pull a bunch of money off a credit card and cover it all till Friday.

I go to the bank. Get money. Go to deposit money. All good.

Except the machine won't accept my deposit.

Fortunately, the credit union is still open so I ask the teller why I can't deposit to MY credit union like I normally do.

She tells me that, for some INSANE reason, credit unions in Alberta and Saskatchewan can no longer be deposited to from anywhere in Western Canada.

Must not have occurred to them to let anyone know.

So, there I was, money in my hand to cover the bouncing balls (due to no fault of mine, I might add) and no way to get it into my bank account.

Again, I ask you, do you know ANYONE with a life like this? Should I marry them? Would that cancel it out, do ya think? Is it karma? Was I a serial killer or a politician in my last life? What's the deal? Am I supposed to be learning patience? Was I born under a bad star?

These are the questions that consume me.

well she says life sucks it's the truth I mean
didn't you think it'd be better than this

Expansion

You may remember that I moved from a 650 square foot condo last year to a fifth wheel (caravan, RV, etc) that I'd say is probably about 125 square feet. If that. In the process I got rid of about 75% of everything I've ever owned.

Including my gorgeous bed. Oh, I miss my bed.

Anyways, it's pretty tight in here. Especially when you add in Cabot's assorted cat stuff - bed, litter box, scratching post. How do you say.... streamlined! compact!

This friday I have to pick up my kit from the military.

They tell me it's a rucksack and two duffel bags. And I need a pretty big cargo space in my car for it to fit.

No, really, they are dead serious. They checked out the car to make sure.

Considering they are providing me with everything including (but not limited to)underwear, combat clothing, full dress uniform, sweats, specific winter and summer clothing, not to mention two pairs of boots, a flak jacket and my own personal gas mask plus god-knows-what-else, I think I can understand their space concern for the car.

My concern is WHERE THE HELL AM I GOING TO PUT IT ALL?

My Life - It's Just LIKE THAT

For those of you that have been around a while, you already know the background of all the hellish things I've gone through with the main management company, the board, the money, the broken things, the rental management companies, the hair-pulling, the kicking thescreamingthecrying.....

For those of you that haven't been around for a while, suffice it to say just one word...nightmare.

Today, in the mail....(in part)

Dear Sir or Madam:

The Real Estate Council of Alberta has information indicating you may be the owner of a property managed by **** Asset Mgmt, a property management company in Calgary, Alberta.

Property managers in the province of Alberta are required to have a real estate licence if they are carrying out any of the following real estate trade activities:
(insert everything they do for me ..here...)

As of October 1, 2005, **** Asset Mgmt is not licenced to trade in real estate in the Province of Alberta.

blah blah, to wit, heretofore...

For additional information, please consult a lawyer.

Seriously, do you know ANYONE who all this kind of shit happens to? Hello?