Hmmm....

I was pretty tired when I got home last night, around 9:30 pm, so I went on to bed after listening to some relaxation sounds on a phone application. But I didn't realise I hadn't actually written since Saturday. Sorry about that. I'm really trying to be consistent, and with the restored home Internet, there's really no reason why I shouldn't take a few minutes to blog or at least find a news story or video that touched me that day.

Tonight I had a couple of appointments (same building, different floors) and they went well. Then I went and got A and took him to the store for creamer, which Tates Creek Kroger was out of Saturday, because while it's not an emergency, it is a necessity for YKWIA (and one of his main sources of nutrition, and an uncaffeinated YKWIA is a sleepy YKWIA.)

Today I wore a cyan-coloured dress with that has a lot of embroidery, beading, ribbons, and a few cyan sequins--not gaudy, just kind of festive and springy. I received half-a-dozen compliments on it over the course of the day, which was nice. Normally I wouldn't have chosen the colour, it's so bright, and I'm a bit ruddy (you know that British/Irish peaches and cream complexion? I'm more strawberries and cream.) But I always get compliments when I wear it, and I have a slightly lighter skirt I sometimes wear, too, and it apparently works on me as well. (YKWIA does not care for the shirt I wear with that--it's tie-dyed, has fringe, and has silver sequins, so yes, it's a bit tacky, but it gets me in touch with my inner hippie). I have never been a fashionista by any means, anyway, although I do try to go out of the house with matching ensembles (along with matching purses or bags), matching socks, that sort of thing. :)

I boiled some eggs for dinner tonight. They were good, but I probably should have let them go for 12 minutes, not 10, as the yolks were cooked most of the way through but not firm. Sometimes you can get away with 10--it depends on things like the size of eggs, temperature of water, humidity, and elevation. Next time, though, I'll do 12 minutes. Can you tell it's been awhile since I boiled eggs? Obviously I'm not a gourmet cook. I'm pretty good at the prep work that YKWIA has me do when he cooks (and he's a marvelous cook), and I am getting better, can follow a recipe, that sort of thing, but no one's ever going to pay for me to serve them food.

I've got the windows and blinds open so I can hear the rain and thunder properly. Many years ago I couldn't have quietly enjoyed a thunderstorm--I used to have a phobia for thunder and other loud noises. Now I'm more mellow. So I think I've conquered that one. I probably wouldn't like to repeat the horrible storm on my honeymoon where we were trying to save a campsite and manning wooden poles of a tarp so that it wouldn't overflow and collapse, and our campsite was struck by an ancillary bolt of lightning that came down. I don't remember feeling that, although others did. I was too busy lying in a puddle in the foetal position to feel anything at that point. That was outside Atlanta, at midsummer, at a pagan gathering where the Farrars and Isaac Bonewits had given an interview at a store and said the witches had come to Atlanta, and so we had threats from the KKK (this was 1991) and a Georgia state trooper was assigned to guard the gate. I'm not sure what he thought about these people running around in robes, and horns, and who knows what else. It definitely wasn't the normal kind of festival he was probably used to.

1991 was a pivotal year for me. I got married June 15th, started playing the Cthulhu game when it began in early July, and then left my husband (for reasons I won't go into here, but trust me, I needed to) December 5th. We were divorced by my birthday in 1992. It was the best present I ever had. It was like my brain came online--it's amazing the stupid things we do while young. I didn't get married until I was 24 but we'd been together for six years and I was 18 when I met him, and he was the first person I'd dated. Word to the wise, young ones: don't marry your first crush. Live a little, first. A little maturity goes a long way, especially when it comes to marriage. And if you aren't a gay man, don't marry a gay man. Enough said.

It's hard to believe that was almost 25 years ago. And it left a lot of emotional scars that have taken me years to work through, but I think I'm much better off now. Some time ago I joined a site mainly for the quizzes (I think online quizzes are fun), but it is actually a dating site. I've never taken any steps to really use it as such, but I did download the application on my phone the other day and there was a guy, a couple of years older than I am, who really caught my eye. I accidentally 'liked' him because I didn't know what I was doing, and was trying to bookmark his profile to show YKWIA. But that's okay. I am considering sending him a message. I'm pretty shy about such things. I never really got the dating thing down. But maybe we can meet for coffee or something like that. That's not too scary. And if he doesn't like me or doesn't want to meet, that's fine, at least it's good practice on the way to finding someone who does, right?

Okay, I think it's time to get away from the computer and get some things done around here, like refrigerating the eggs and doing some stuff around the house, maybe while I listen to Pandora. Good night.

It's amazing how quickly fear grips you

when you encounter something of which you have a phobia, even if it is unlikely you will get hurt. Case in point:

My baby book states that even at a few months old, I screamed whenever storms came through. I have had a fear of thunder and lightning as long as I can remember, to the point where I have actually wonder if I experienced bombing in a past life. That's what it feels like, like death is raining from the sky, bursting in flashes of light and crashing noise. I even dove under a table once, as a teenager, while company was over when a bolt hit nearby.

Nineteen years ago, during my honeymoon, I was attending a Pagan gathering outside of Atlanta when a huge front of storms came through. To give you an idea, it was midsummer, the temperature prior to the storm was in the 90s--the next day it was in the 50s. Several of us were camped together with a tarpaulin over the common area, put up with wooden poles. There was one extra pole, a metal one, on the ground. When the rain came down in sheets we each manned a pole and dipped the tarp to keep it from collapsing. At one point lightning hit down in the valley below us, knocking people off their feet. A bit of the bolt hit our camp--the others felt the shock through the wooden poles. But I didn't feel anything, because at that point I was in the foetal position in a puddle of rainwater. I'd held up really well up to then, but that thunderclap and flash, simultaneous with one another, sent me down to the ground. Afterwards, when the others were checking out other campers (tents had been rolling down the hill, etc.), I stood there with my pole, clutching it for dear life, and every now and then one of my companions would come over and check on me.

But over the years, I thought the phobia had ebbed. I'd forced myself to be calm during storms, and I even learnt to enjoy them (so long as the thunder was fairly far away). As it got closer, my heart beat a little faster, but I was still okay.

But that was inside.

Today a storm came up just as I was leaving the hospital. I had to go out to catch the bus; it was the only way to get to work on time at the store. The rain was coming down in sheets, and thunder came from every direction. All the fear came back in a moment, and I started crying, wondering if I should have called work to see if someone could have gotten me or if they could wait for me to get there. But I persevered. I got to the bus stop (incidentally, under a tall metal light pole) and waited. A lightning bolt hit somewhere across the road at the golf course; the thunderclap was instantaneous, and it took every bit of courage I had to not run back up that hill to the hospital and to hell with the bus.

After that, things calmed down a bit, and so did I. By the time the bus arrived, it actually was just a gentle rain. By the time I got off the bus again, it was only sprinkling, as it had passed the store as well. My clothes were soaked, especially my sandals, and my feet were brown where the material touched them. My work shirt was wet inside the canvas bag I'd carried as well. But I was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I'm still embarrassed that I cried because it was storming. I think the woman across from me on the bus could tell I had been; she looked at me very oddly. And I hate that I still have that fear that comes crashing back all at once after all these years. True, I weathered it. And it's not entirely irrational; I could have been struck by lightning, even though it is so very rare. But I still feel like I failed somewhere and wonder at those who can listen to thunderstorms and find them relaxing.

One last thing

One of the RSS feeds I subscribe to is 'MedTerms Word of the Day'. Here is the one for March 5th (okay, so I'm behind). I'm including this because it might just be perfect for Cthulhu some day.

Eisoptrophobia: An abnormal and persistent fear of mirrors. Sufferers experience undue anxiety even though they realize their fear is irrational. Because their fear often is grounded in superstitions, they may worry that breaking a mirror will bring bad luck or that looking into a mirror will put them in contact with a supernatural world inside the glass.

Mirrors and other reflective surfaces have long been associated with the strange or the bizarre. For example, in Greek mythology, Narcissus fell in love with his own image reflected in the water of a fountain. He thought he was seeing the image of a beautiful nymph. Unable to embrace or call forth the image, he pined away and was eventually transformed into a flower. In The Picture of Dorian Gray, a novel by Oscar Wilde, a portrait of a handsome young man begins to deteriorate, reflecting the corruption of the man's inner being. The portrait becomes a mirror reflecting the state of the young man's soul. The man eventually commits murder and suicide.

"Eisoptrophobia" is derived from the Greek "eis" (into) and "optikos" (vision, image, sight). Other English words derived from "optikos" include "optic" (relating to vision) and "optician," a technician who designs eyeglasses according to a prescription.

MedTerms (TM) is the Medical Dictionary of MedicineNet.com.
We Bring Doctors' Knowledge To You

See! I'm home at a decent time!

though I wasted an hour trying to get a medication that 1) is still awaiting prior autorisation and 2) was supposed to be called in at my last dosage to brige me over and that hasn't been done yet (the office told me they would on Monday). None of that is the pharmacy's fault, but this is: I was told that they 'won't be carrying distilled water in the future' when I asked where it was. Let's see, pharmacies sell humidifiers, humidifiers and other medical devices require distilled water, hmmm. They have drinking water, pediatric water. I think they may even have soda water. But alas, no distilled. Okay, I forgot to take my meds today; so maybe that's making me a little more irritable than normal. But wouldn't you expect a pharmacy (or at least one that carries the humidifiers and such, at least) to carry distilled water? Oh, well, rant over. But it's to the grocery for distilled H2O from now on, although tonight I didn't feel like going because it was thunderbooming (and still is, although now that Cerys and I are tucked away inside it's finally raining hard, so I'm glad I got in first. And we so need the rain.

I used to have a terrible phobia of thunder. Even as a baby I screamed during thunderstorms. As a teenager I dove under a table in front of company when a particularly loud one sounded. It got better slowly until my honeymoon, where we stood up on top of a hill trying to save the camp by manning wooden tarp poles, and when the inevitable bolt struck enough for everyone else to feel the electricity, I was in foetal position in a puddle of water. So for awhile after that I was pretty sensitive. But it's lessened, and now I can actually enjoy a thunderstorm--at least if I'm inside. :) Between writing and all of those ions being charged, I think I'm feeling better.

Today I was off work celebrating a birthday with Indian food. Yay! So I got to sleep late and come home early, woo-hoo! The friend I pick up at midnight most nights was off, too, so I don't have to go back out tonight unless there's an emergency. Double woo-hoo! I did have one moment where the car died today but restarted with no trouble. I'll keep an eye out for that. I know my fluids are okay; I checked them a couple of weeks ago. And it was a little low on gas (but not on empty) and I've filled up since then, so maybe it will be okay. She has over 240,000 miles on her, is on a salvaged engine, and has a door that keeps falling off, but she's gotten me where I need to go most of the time. I hope there's some life left in her.

Speaking of old but chugging along, Cerys has been sleeping really close to me, although generally not in bed anymore. She'll be right where my feet come down off the mattress, for instance, or yesterday I napped in the recliner and she slept under my feet. So I'm being really careful about where I put my feet. It's adorable, really. I think she's having trouble getting on the bed, though.

This morning I put a little gas in the car and found out that our cheques had come, so I put mine in the bank. Yay! I get paid at the hospital tomorrow and then I can go ahead and pay my rent a little early. The schedule wasn't up yet, though so I left my appointments with my boss (we'd talked for a little while about stuff to do with work) and then tonight after the pharmacy I came back to get the full tank of gas and check the schedule. I'm working tomorrow 5-9 (truck night), Friday from 6-8, and then nothing. That's right, I'm off all day Saturday. Woo-hoo! I think that's number three or four since I started in December 2005. And then I'm off through Wednesday. Granted, I'll only get paid for 6 hours for the week, but that will fall on my off payday that coincides with the next hospital payweek, so it should be okay. It won't affect my rent, anyway, and I think I can take care of my bills as long as it doesn't continue to be that low. We're shooting for about 15 hours a week rather than 27, which is what I was working for awhile. That gives me a little more time for things other than work, sleep, food, notes, and errands. :)

Okay, that's all for now. I think I may curl up for a bit and listen to the thunder.