That Type of Person

I'm the type of person who kind of shuts down when insomnia takes over.  Combine that with being pushed to the limit at work and I'm done.  Motivation is down and inspiration is squashed.  I can't muster the energy for anything extra and that definitely includes all things blogging.  Stringing together coherent thoughts for a post is impossible, and then the longer I go the easier it is not to, and then I feel so bummed out that I'm not blogging that it makes me not even want to read blogs.  A few weeks ago a friend asked me on Friday around 7pm if I wanted to go to an art festival the next day.  I was already in pajamas trying to stay awake on a movie.  If she needed to know right then the answer was no because when I'm that nauseated from fatigue I can't imagine wanting to do anything.  I told her I'd text her the next morning because tomorrow is a new day, and sure enough the sun was shining and I was ready run around like a mad getting all the errands and Saturday stuff done before rushing off to Art Walk where we had a great time. 
What we had for lunch at Art Walk
I'm the type of person who doesn't think anyone cares about the type of person I am.  I think this also tends to contribute to my lack of blogging at times.  When you think about it blogging is kind of bold.  It's hey look at me, look at what I'm doing, and this is what I think! When you are a lifestyle blogger you might blog about things like travel, fashion, or cooking, but a lot of it is all about you.  When you get right down to it blogging requires some level of confidence to assume that people are interested in who you are and anything you have to say at all and the confidence to be okay with it if they aren't.  It's funny how I don't truly realize that confidence is exactly what it takes until it's gone, but like those times when I feel too tired for life it comes and goes.

I'm the type of person who feels so deeply.  Sometimes I think I am too emotionally fragile for the world.  I cry on movies, commercials, and TV shows.  I watched a documentary on Netflix called Be Here Now, and I sat on my couch alone in the dark and sobbed for a good five minutes after it was over.  I was so saddened and moved that I thought about it for weeks.  I hate conflict too.  It is entirely too stressful.  If I have to deal with conflict or if people are mad at me I feel physically ill.  Appetite gone.  Stomach in knots.  I hate it that people have to die, that there are so many sick and suffering, and so many people who are just plain evil.  Feelings can be such a burden!  I feel good things very deeply too.  That part I like.

I'm the type of person who loves watching people's dreams comes true and I will use that as an excuse for watching The Pop Game, a show in which five teenagers are invited to live in an LA mansion and compete for a record deal while their parents/managers bicker and cause drama in the background.  MJ totally judged me for watching it, but what can you do?  Admitting that I watched it (and will watch it again if there is another season) is a little embarrassing, but it was so good.  I sat there and cried (of course) on the last episode because I saw so much growth in each of the contestants and wanted them all to win because they improved so much and did so good.  Gosh, you'd think I know these kids or something.

So how's that for my first post back in a month?

I actually feel like a human being today instead of a zombie, and I really wanted to take advantage of that and write, even though I didn't have anything in particular to say.  I might be the type of person who cares too much about what other people think.  I need to not allow thoughts that nobody is interested in anything I have to say or that I don't have anything important to say prevent me from blogging.  So what.  Right?  So here I am writing without apology, and without regard to how literary or "post worthy" it may be.  Just me, writing what I want (and hitting publish before I change my mind) because it's what I've always loved to do.


I Am Not My Own Boss

Do you ever get really, really annoyed with work for stealing your fun, and preventing you from doing things that you want to do?  When I'm really tired, waking up in the morning for work is the worst.  Who wants to sit in an office all day when the sun is shining and there are so many other alternative activities in this world?

That was me last week.  Slightly bitter because my husband was home for a limited time only.  It was a surprise so I had no extra days off planned, and had just taken quite a few days off two weeks prior when he was here.  It sucked getting out of bed when he was still in it, and sitting at work when he was sitting at home.  I rushed home every day so anxious to spend what was left of the day with him.  We didn't do much, because even though he was on vacation, I was in work mode.  I was tired (although so was he from jet lag) and had to be up early, so we ate dinner and watched TV.  Not super exciting, but time together is time together and I was glad to have it.

It's times like this when I wish I was one of those multi-level millionaires that work from home and poolside locations throughout the world.  Surely you've seen their pics and gushing testimony all over social media about how awesome their life is.  How they make so much money that they retired their husbands out of the workforce.  How they can work from anywhere as long as they have a laptop and wi-fi.  How they don't have to ask their boss for time off, and no longer hate Monday's.  They seem to be on cruises a lot. 

Be your own boss.  Be home with your kids.  Take vacation when you want.  Drink wine in front of a fireplace on Tuesday afternoon.  But isn't that sales?  Oh no, you don't have to sell anything.  It's so easy!  Working 9-5 is unnecessary. 

Guys.  I don't get it.  If I don't have to sell anything then how do I make money to support myself?  Multi-level marketing is all about sales, but I have been approached by people who claim to be making a lot of money and claim that you don't have to sell anything.  If your income depends upon a product that you actively promote it is sales.  Even if the product is so good it sells itself, it's sales.  Let's just say it's true and you don't have to sell a specific product or a specific thing, you are most certainly selling something.  You are selling the program, and you are also selling yourself in a way.  That's how you get people to sign up...so you can make money off of them...and then you motivate those people so they will get other people to sign up...so you can make money off of them. 

I don't doubt that there are people making a ton of money selling wraps, essential oils, fitness products or cosmetics, but I have this feeling that they are the exception not the rule, and that there are just enough of them to make people think it's easy to have that same success.  I also don't doubt that there are a lot of people stretching the truth and probably don't like it as much as they claim or don't make full time living off of it as they imply, because if it was truly that easy, and that lucrative why isn't everyone doing it?  Why hasn't everyone quit their jobs, signed up to sell whatever it is they like, and found themselves rolling in the dough on a permanent vacation?  Also, if everyone did it, who would do everything else?  From what I understand, we actually need people working in offices, retail shops, hospitals, airports, and all the other places that are integral to society.
This Guy.  Heart face emoji
So yeah, last week I was a little bit bitter about having to go to work.  It happens to the best of us, I'm sure.  Why can't I be that girl I follow on Instagram posting about how she sold enough wraps to buy a house and gets a six month vacation twice a year?  Then I thought about how I probably couldn't sell ice-water in hell.  Not only do I suck at sales or promoting, I don't like it.  I don't even like pimping out my own blog.  No matter how you slice it you are selling something.  I do it sometimes, and  there's nothing wrong with it, but it usually makes me uncomfortable.  I'm also pretty risk adverse.  I like the idea of knowing that I'll get a paycheck every month.  It may not be #girlboss #instagramgoals but I also like generous paid time off, my retirement plan, and paying $0 dollars for a zero co-pay no deductible health insurance plan.  I have a really solid job.

Earning money online as your sole source of income isn't for everyone.  This blogger could write one million posts about how she made $100,000 in a month online, not in a year a month, but I still wouldn't be able to figure out how to do it!  My mind is literally blown by how successful she has become through blogging.  This girl is legit, and she doesn't brag about it, she informs. 
Burgers Again!!
Plenty of people find another way, but that isn't my path.

My job limits the amount of vacations I can take, and the days I can stay home, but I also wouldn't be taking vacation if I didn't have it.  I wouldn't be doing a lot of things if I didn't have it.  I might not even own a home if I didn't have it.  We love to travel, and thanks to my job, not necessarily in spite of my job (because that's the better way to look at it), I have managed to take some pretty fantastic vacations.  Over Thanksgiving I got to spend a nice chunk of time with my long distance husband.  Last week I got to spend a wonderful long weekend with family.  It may not be as much as I want.  It never is!  But that's life.  Some things you can and/or are willing to change, others you can't and/or won't.  You maximize what you have, make it work, and even if it isn't ideal, you have to move past the bitter and be glad for the good things you got.  You really just have to.     

I had to make do with less time with MJ than I wanted last week, I live for the weekends, I hate Monday's, and the only thing I get to choose about my schedule is what time I take my lunch break, but we saw Beauty and the Beast together at the "fancy" theater The Lot, and spent too much money on overpriced drinks downtown just because.  Searsucker is kinda pricey, and we could have stayed there and eaten if we wanted to, but chose to get sloppy burgers at Cold Beers & Cheeseburgers instead.  Yes, that's the name.  I'm not a Girl Boss.  I am not my own boss.  I have a boss, who I had ask for an extended amount of time off this summer.  The answer was yes, and for all of that...all of it...I am grateful.      


The Sensational Phenomenal So Good Very Rad Day

I would have been content to party with the parents in Vegas for my Birthday.  That was the plan.  It didn't make any sense for me to spend my Birthday alone, so I was going to fly to Vegas and spend it with my parents.  They probably go out more than I do.  We would have fun.  As it got closer, we started making plans about what we would do.  I was to get in Thursday evening, so my mom scheduled spa time for Friday afternoon, then we would go to lunch and go shopping.  The night before I left mom said, "consider going out on Friday night" so I packed an extra pair of black pants, just in case.  The plan for Saturday was to hit the strip, dinner and a show, and then one of my fave spots Vista Cocktail Lounge at Caesar's Palace.  Sunday, would be a day to relax or do whatever, and Monday I go home.  That was the plan.  Reservations were made, tickets were purchased, it was all set.

My flight there was delayed three hours due to high winds in Vegas.  No big deal, delays seem to be the norm these days.  Unfortunately.

My facial was not quite as relaxing as I'd hoped, because the woman went to town on my face doing extractions with her evil little tool.  She did a good job removing all the invisible black heads I didn't know I had, but it was the most painful facial I've ever had in my life and left me with marks on my face.  Exactly what you want the day before your birthday.  I guess I should have known better, but I've never had a facial like that.  I had a fantastic time shopping with my mom.  I felt like a kid again.  We shared a fitting room, tried things on, and I handed some of them over to her at the register to pay.  Thanks mom! The shopping marathon continued after a pit stop for lunch.  

So this is the part where things started going differently than I expected.  My mom and I had just opened a bottle of wine, and were chatting in the living room, until she decided she needed to camp out in her little office off the kitchen and get busy with paying bills.  The doorbell rings, and my mom insists that I answer the door.  It's probably a neighbor she said.  Well, it was not the neighbor.  I checked the peephole and all I could see was the back of somebodies head, so I opened the door and guess who turns around?  My big sister Dani who lives in South Carolina.  My big sister, who I haven't seen since October last year, and whom I didn't know when I'd be seeing again was standing there at the door.  My first reaction, after screaming "Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?" was basically to start bawling because I could not believe my eyes.  My sister doesn't get to travel a lot, so it was a huge deal that she made this happen.  I could not believe that she was here for my birthday, and I was just so so happy to see her.  The good news is that she made it, but the bad news is that her flight path was delayed by 8 hours so she was super exhausted, and had missed out on some of the fun stuff we had planned for that day.  I have a love hate relationship with the airlines.  Mostly hate at the moment.

Later on that night, I got another shock.  My dad walks in, and right behind him is my little sis all the way from San Francisco, whom I also had no idea would be making an appearance.  Just last week, she asked me if I was excited about the trip, and there she was...on the trip!  More happy tears!!  I kept looking for my niece and nephew, but they left the kiddos at home and flew into to town for 48 hours so they could be there on my Birthday.  I know I already said this, but I couldn't believe it.  I could barely believe that the five of us were all together again, and that they had gone to all this trouble to be there on my Birthday.

I didn't know what was going to happen with the show because MJ had only purchased three tickets for The Beetles Love Cirque Du Soleil at Mirage, but now there were five of us.  Nobody seemed too concerned about that minor detail.  MJ was quick to ask me via text if we needed more tickets, but mom said she'd take care of it.  Later that day I explained to my sisters that we probably wouldn't be sitting together since the tickets were purchased in two sets.

Little did I know. 

Big sis, Middle Sis, Little Sis
We went for a walk Saturday morning, and then started getting ready for the strip.  I couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day.  My birthday turned out to be the most perfect day weather wise the whole time I was there.  I was a little disappointed because I didn't get to talk to MJ before we left.  He texted me Happy Birthday, and I replied, "No phone call? Sad face emoji," but he said he couldn't because it was moving day so the wi-fi in his new apartment had not been set up yet, and he was out of data.  I understood because it's just one of those things you learn to deal with when you are in a long distance marriage.

The four of us stopped at Golden Spoon for yogurt first because it's Dani's favorite.  The parking situation at those huge hotels is so confusing that it was a group effort figuring out where the lot was, but we made it and we were lucky enough to catch one of the beautiful Bellagio water shows on the way to New York New York where they have the Pizza pretzels I love so much.  Turns out, they taste better when you are drunk, but it was still a good pre-dinner snack because I hadn't eaten since breakfast.  We sat and had a drink at the nearest bar, and took one to go, because you can do that in Vegas, before heading to Planet Hollywood.  Little sis bought some earrings and we met up with one of my mom's friends.

We underestimated how long it takes to walk the strip so little sis and I rushed ahead back to the Mirage so we could make our 6:45pm dinner reservation at Fin.  They put six chairs at the table, even though our reservation was for five.  Odd, but I didn't question it.  Mom and big sis show up, and I didn't even see it get taken away, but next thing I know that extra chair had disappeared.  Okay, whatever.  I didn't think much of it.  My dad showed up next.  I was busy checking out the menu and chatting, when in walks my husband, who is supposed to be in Germany.  Why is he not in Germany?

Three weeks ago we had three days together.  I dropped him at the airport, he spent a week in Arizona, and then flew back to Germany, so why was he here in Las Vegas at the restaurant where I'm having my Birthday dinner, when he left the states exactly seven days ago.  Or did he? How? What are you doing here? For a second I thought he must have been hiding out somewhere for the last week.  "I came back for your Birthday," he said and even though, I could clearly see that he was there standing in front of me, I couldn't believe it.  I gave him a big hug and I couldn't stop crying.

Well, no wonder he couldn't call me.  Surely, I would have heard an airport loud speaker announcement over the phone and ruined the surprise.  My dad had gone to pick up MJ from the airport and they went directly from the airport to the strip. Everyone else was talking and laughing and I was slumped over in my chair clutching a napkin to my face sobbing, because I just couldn't believe they had orchestrated this entire thing.  I finally gathered myself, we placed our orders and enjoyed dinner.

Well, we show up for the show and lo and behold, there are not three, not five, but six seats together all in a row.  The show was so good.  It was 1 1/2 hours and didn't end until almost midnight.  Two of the three surprise guests were in for some serious jet lag, and really, everyone was pretty tired after a long albeit wonderful day, so we never made it to Vista Cocktail lounge.  We went home, ate cupcakes and drank wine around the kitchen island before hauling off to bed.

As our family has spread out geographically, as my parents get older, as I get older, I am acutely (and sometimes painfully) aware of just how precious people are and the experiences that we have together.  There is no better birthday present than time and people you care about, and that's what they gave me this year.

The first airport drop on Sunday was big sis.  Less than 48 hours after arriving mom and dad shuttled her to the airport.  Little sis still had time to come hang out at at the casino for cheap drinks and some gambling.  MJ taught me how to play Black Jack, and coached me to $20 in winnings.  The drinks were actually really good, but they we got the gambling discount so they were only $2-$4 bucks each, which is a steal for anywhere let alone Vegas.  We picked up Steak Shack to go, and then it was time for the 2nd airport drop for little sis.  MJ and I had one more day there.  We had breakfast at Cracker Barrel and watched a movie at home, and then it was time for the parents to shuttle us to the airport.  MJ stalked me and got himself on my flight so we flew back to San Diego together, and I got my husband back for an entire week.

So you see, my April Fools Day Birthday was a Sensational Phenomenal So Good Very Rad Day.  Like best day ever sensational!!  All of it.  I make a point to do things I enjoy on my birthday, but it's typically never anything big, and for me this was big.  It crossed my mind that with MJ gone for the year, I could end up spending my Birthday alone.  I wasn't even looking forward to it that much, but one turned into three, turned into five, turned into six and I was lucky enough to spend the entire day with a bunch of people I love.  Everyone leads busy lives, and we all have our own thing going on, but they hopped on planes from near and far just to be with me on this milestone Birthday.  They made me feel so special and so loved.  It was truly unforgettable, and I will be forever grateful for what they did and the fun times we shared.


Three Days Four Nights

Wow.  This is officially the longest I've ever gone without posting.  In eight years.  I've been tired, and haven't felt inspired.  I almost re-wrote that sentence because I didn't mean for it to rhyme, but really, that's what it was.  Tired and uninspired. Why am I not surprised that the first post in a month is about none other than my handsome husband?

Three days.  That's all we had.  Well, five if you want to get technical, but I don't because a Sunday night arrival, and a pre-noon departure does not a day make.  It took me at least a day to believe that he was really here.  This was a surprise visit that came out of nowhere because he had to make a trip to Arizona, so I wasn't expecting to see him any time soon.  I didn't believe it when he told me he was coming two weeks prior.  I didn't believe it when, I got his flight itinerary.  I didn't believe it when I picked him up from the airport, and wrapped my arms around his neck.  I still didn't believe it the next morning when we were laying under clear blue skies at our favorite picnic spot in Balboa Park watching airplanes roar above our heads.

It was a perfect day.  The weather warmed into the 80's just in time for his arrival, and neither one of us had eaten those juicy Italian Subs from Capriotti's in a while.  The next day I took him on a date to The Lot.  It didn't bother us that our showtime was cancelled due to technical difficulties and that we would be seeing Get Out at 3:30pm instead of 2:00 because we had nowhere to be except right there with each other.  Instead of eating inside the theater we ordered another drink, and ate burgers at outdoor the bar all the while soaking up the ambiance.  We were refunded the cost of the tickets for our trouble, which really wasn't any trouble at all.

Just when I fully and truly believed my husband was really home, is also about when it started to hit me that he would soon leave.  On Monday, Thursday seemed so far away, and I refused to acknowledge that his presence was temporary, but by Tuesday night, I couldn't help it.  One day left.  We met his co-workers for lunch, and sat outside eating Mexican food.  Then we stopped for yogurt, before heading to Best Buy for a new Blue Ray player, because I had to get in at least one Honey Do while the getting was good. 
He was jet lagged the whole time.  Early to rise, and early to get tired.  He managed to stay awake those first two night, just because he didn't want me waking him up and marching him to bed, and he knows I would.  With only so few nights home I wouldn't allow him to spend a single one of them sleeping on the couch.  It was enough that I could watch him sleep, so on the fourth night I let him doze off, and he didn't complain when I woke him up after two hours and marched him up to bed.

It was so nice doing even the little things we always do together.  I held off on watching The Walking Dead on Sunday so we could watch it together on Monday.  I got to watch him dart around the kitchen cooking our Blue Apron meal in half the time it would take me, using proper cutting technique I will never master, and then swoop in to finish off the dishes while he started the movie.  We did that spur of the moment run to Mary's for the best donuts in town.  When it was time to eat them he want straight for the milk.  He doesn't believe in eating donuts without milk, but he saved a little bit for me because I don't need my own glass; just a big sip after my last bite.

I couldn't believe he was here, and then I couldn't believe I was at work.

I dropped him off at the airport, and was slogging through emails by 10:30am.  It was surreal.  Almost as if the last 3 days had never happened.  Getting to see him at all was great, but another airport drop, and another good-bye smacked me in the face with the reality that even though we've been living separately for seven months (!!), he's been gone long enough to be moving into a second apartment in two weeks, and we still have another nine months to go. 

He'll be in Arizona this week, before he heads back to Germany, and I thought I'd like it that we could at least share the same time zone for a while, but oddly enough, I don't think I do.  I've grown accustomed to counting ahead nine hours to figure out what he might be doing, and I'm used to not doing things here at the same time that he does them there.  When I'm on my way to work in the morning, he's on his way home.  When I'm powering through the middle of my work day, he's winding down for bed.  When I'm winding down for bed, he's getting in that last hour of sleep.  It might not make any sense, but when he's nine hours ahead, and our days are so out of sync it somehow makes the distance between us feel less real.  He's doing his thing in his time zone and I'm doing my thing in mine.

I don't like it that we are doing the same things at the same time, but can't do them together.  I don't like it that we are both going to sleep at the same time, but can't sleep together or watching the same TV shows at the same time, but not watching them together.  I don't like it that he's gone, period, but this is how it is right now and I'm so grateful for these visits in between that break up the time.

Seven months down, nine months to go...

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