Eggs and Bacon

Joe woke up before me and let me sleep. Emily came up at 10am and poked my forehead to tell me breakfast was ready. I came downstairs to eggs, bacon and toast.

But the story gets better. When Joe told Emily to wake me up, Nicholas popped up from the couch and said, ‘breakfast? Is it mother’s day?’

Haha… shows you how often Joe turns on the stove.

Until next time,

Where are the roses?

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Predictable or…?

I have had the worst couple days and my therapist is out of town this week, so yeah.

‘Hey Joe. HCWAAC.’ -me

‘No.’ – Joe

‘ You don’t even know what I said.’ -me

‘Umm, “Hot Chocolate with Alcohol and Cookies.” – Joe

‘ How did you know that?’ -me

‘Come on. Seriously?’ – Joe

Sooo, am I predictable or do we just have a strong, loving marriage based around cookies and drinks?

Until next time,

Marry someone who understands you.

A Dead End on Memory Lane

I can’t believe that it has been almost a year since we got the first verdict- they were taking away your license. I couldn’t believe it. I felt so bad then.

Here we are, almost a year later, and your appeal still resulted in revoking your license but now it is permanent. You can’t hurt me anymore or anyone else.

It’s funny because I read the new appeal documents and my memories came flooding back like an express train to D.C. Zipping, twisting and turning and never stopping until it reaches it’s final destination; the final destination floods my memories.

I still think about you. Every. Single. Day. Wondering if you are ok and thinking about the fun times we had but it was just the wrong time and the wrong circumstances and to be honest, I don’t know why I do that. It’s weird how the mind works.

I wonder if we would have ever been friends if you weren’t my therapist. Would I have met you in a coffee house or through friends or would we have just passed each other like so many other strangers on the street?

We should stroll down memory lane and remember those times. Everyone: raise your glass to these dual times I had with my therapist/friend…

Remember that time that you said that you wished I wasn’t married so we could hang out more? Oh man… I felt special.

Remember that time that you said I was a much better person when I was drunk? Haha… and people with Borderline Personality Disorder have a hard time with alcohol… that makes it especially humorous. Cool. Thanks.

Do you remember when you asked me if I did night time photography? And then remember that you asked me to follow around your ex-boyfriends wife to see if she was cheating on him? Man, I only wish I had that type of equipment.

Remember the time you asked to borrow $300 from me… yup, still your client but I didn’t mind because I trusted you.

Remember that time you said you were going to send me to the ‘crazy house,’ if I didn’t lie to the investigator for you? Do they have a bus that takes me there or should I grab an uber?

Oh, this was a good one! Remember when you told me that you were going to tell my boss that I was a ticking time bomb to get the other letter from me to retract what the state found out about us? <tick, tick, tick.>

Oh my… do you remember the time that we did sensory therapy on the beach and I was in a really bad place and you asked me to go to the bar with you but I said no? And then you made me go anyway and we got drunk and I didn’t get home till like 4am? Man, I am surprised my husband didn’t divorce me.

Remember the time you berated me for being suicidal and then never documented it in your notes? I wish someone listened to me then.

Oh. One of my favorites! Remember the time I contacted you to tell you that I was having panic attacks and didn’t want to go to school because I was afraid of the shooter drill and afraid of being shot and then you never wrote me back because you wanted to ‘teach me a lesson?’ Oh come on! You remember… you wanted to teach me a lesson on my fear of abandonment and have me realize that you would always be there for me? I am glad you were there a week later. Cool.

Remember when you left me at the restaurant because you said I had boundary issues? And then when I begged you not to leave but you got up and left me there to sit by myself? Funny right? Because someone with Borderline Personality Disorder has a fear of abandonment but there you left me which makes it extra hilarious.

And then remember when I thought it was the worst day of my life? Oh yea, you texted me to find another therapist? Oh God. I thought that that was going to be the worst day ever but it turned out the be the best part of my life because I found a new therapist; one that cares about me.

You see, I am still hurting and you are too. I am not stupid because I know you are. I know my blog is dripping with sarcasm but I am sincere with some parts. I do think about you every single day. You were a big part of my life. Sometimes a terrible part but a part that I have learned from.

I thought I had moved on but I guess I am still angry. I am a lot more healthier than I used to be and anger is just an emotion that gives us information. I guess my anger is telling me that I still think about you and I wish I didn’t because it still hurts. I wish I was the person I am now back then. I wish I was different, stronger and healthier.

I wish. I wish things were different.

Until next time,

I wish this nightmare was over for the both of us.

 

 

 

Back to Work After Thanksgiving

Going back to work is like entering the sixth circle of hell when you are a teacher. Yes, it was lovely having those five days off; turkey, coffee in the mornings, sleeping in, peeing when I wanted and good friends and family. But coming back to school is like choosing to hang out on the wrong side of the tracks when you were a kid.

Here are some things that happened today:

1) When I woke up at 5:15am, I quickly realized that the day before I slept 4.5 hours more than at that waking moment.

2) Coffee isn’t just to wake me up in the mornings. On school days it is literally comfort food to get me through the bad classes. Kind of like eating chocolate during your period. If I didn’t do it, I would murder the whole class.

3) I want it to be quiet in the classroom. Coming back to school after break is the equivalent to the hangover you had after your 21st birthday. You just want silence and a bed… and greasy food to get you through.

4) Pants. I had to put on work pants. I have been living in my pajamas for five days. Work pants just hug my rolls and it’s definitely not in all the right places.

5) I had to pack lunch like I am so kind of nomad. And of course when you are eating at 10:40 am, a sensible diet shake is the last thing you want to ‘eat.’ God, I hate skinny bitches; I am over here drinking my meal while you are complaining your size 2 pants are too large.

6) I had an evaluation today. Seriously? I am vacation hungover. I am barely functioning at adult standards let alone a working, successful adult. Why are you hitting me up on the first day back. Are we animals?

7) During break, I was sadly on Facebook more than the average person. When I went back today, I felt so lost. I didn’t know who was sweating at the gym and what people had for breakfast.

8) I have been getting like ten hours of sleep this break. Today, I literally fell asleep sitting straight up at my desk grading projects. I think I have narcolepsy.

9) The administration decided to have a faculty meeting today. You couldn’t pay me enough to care.

10) Today, I had s kid randomly screaming, ‘I got hit with a skittle- taste the rainbow!’ Why was he saying this? I don’t know because no one had Skittles. What the hell.

Until next time,

Teachers are more then turkey drunk. We are freedom drunk when we are on break.

Starbucks

Starbucks never disappoints. I especially enjoy when I put my headphones in my ears but forget to turn on my music. Today, was one of those days and then I overheard two high school girls talking.

‘I am so excited. This will be the best thing ever!’ -first girl

‘Uh, yeah. I am so excited and this is the best thing we have like ever done!’ -second girl

‘Yeah, she will be super proud of us!’ -first girl

‘Oh my God. If we get her to like cry, that would be the best!’ -second girl

‘Yeah it would. This is so perfect; like what could go wrong?’ -first girl

Ok, listen small children. So many things could go wrong.

1) one of you gets grounded for talking like an asshole.

2) someone destroys your hopes and dreams because that’s how life really is and it’s mostly because of they way you talk and your overuse of the word, ‘like.’

3) maybe you both are trying too hard and you talk like valley girls and like people hate that and suddenly like, you have no friends like.

4) someone punches you in the face because of the way you talk and you bleed out.

5) I run over you with my car because you are annoying as fuck and you like, die.

Well, at least I have a coffee.

Until next time,

Peace out like sauerkraut

Count These…

So as a teacher, I understand the importance of homework, however let me enlighten you on what really gets on my nerves. It’s the homework that requires elementary students to count items.

First off, counting items means I have to acquire the same fucking item 50 -120 times according to tonight’s homework. Have you seen my house? I can’t find anything let alone a grouping of 50-120 items.

Then they give you suggestions, like that is helpful. ‘Count 50-120 cheerios, beans, pennies, or dirt on your carpet…’

First off, the cheerios aren’t open. Secondly, am I really going to open up a can of black beans so my son can play with my fajita topping? Third, does anyone even have pennies anymore?

This is more of a homework assignment for me. I don’t want to fucking count 50 pennies. 

I made my kid count pumpkin seeds. It got the job done but it grossed me out watching the oil slide around the dirty table top because face it, I haven’t cleaned the table since Saturday. Now his hands are all oily and my kid is sitting there counting pumpkin seeds by 2’s, 5’s and 10’s. 

Do you, elementary teacher, know how painful it is to watch my kid count by 2’s and then freaking 5’s and then 10’s? It’s like watching paint dry but you are also on fire, while stepping on legos. 

Until next time,

Who’s got a lighter?

Buzz, Buzz… Who’s This?

*Adult content… don’t read further… this is your warning.*

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So the other night I couldn’t sleep. We have all been in that situation; tossing and turning and staring at all four walls of the bedroom.

I tried being mindful and thinking of serene places but I just kept making lists in my head and then having anxiety. And then it hit me… not literally… but, I thought, ‘hey, I could just use my vibrator.’

I mean what could go wrong, right? So I quietly get it out and turn it on. And Joe, out of a dead sleep mind you, sits straight up and starts trying to find his phone. Yes, he tried to answer my vibrator.

Until next time,

Hello? Who’s this? 

Oh, it’s just my vagina.