Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Little Hints from a Higher Power

Ever feel like the universe is trying to tell you something?  Like when you have a strong feeling about a certain person, or you feel like you should be in a certain place?  Lately, I think the universe is trying to give me a hint.

My co-workers and I have a little tradition in our office.  Every Wednesday, we order the tostada special from Cafe Rio.  It is one of my favorites.  I always order the exact same thing, pork tostada, black beans and rice, no cilantro, and a large diet coke.  It's become tradition, and my body seems to crave it.  I'm not even going to mention how horrible Cafe Rio is for you.  My SIL was doing weight watchers, and she said that one Cafe Rio salad would use up all the points she was allowed for an entire day.  Still, it's totally worth it in my book.  Anyway, we've done this for probably close to a year now.  Our orders aren't WAY complicated, but we do split the bill and each pay individually, which I understand can kind of be a hassle during a lunch rush.  They've always been really good to work with us though. 

About two months ago my order starting having little things wrong with it.  The first time they put cilantro on it even though I always get it without it.  Cilantro is gross.  The second time it was all rice and no beans.  The third time it was chicken instead of pork.  I love Cafe Rio, but I can't stand their chicken.  I LOVE their pork, and even if I did like the chicken, when you take a bite of something and expect sweet pork barbacoa and get cilantro-lime chicken it almost makes you gag.  After the chicken incident I went a few weeks without ordering.  Today I wasn't feeling very well and nothing sounded good, but Cafe Rio sounded WONDERFUL after almost a month of not having it.  So I splurged, and ordered it.  Today seemed to be the mack daddy of all screw ups.  It was chicken, there was cilantro on it, and instead of the wonderful tostada shell it normally comes with, it had a soggy flour tortilla.  It was IN NO WAY what I ordered. 

So what it comes down to is the universe is calling me fat.  Apparently it's decided that if I won't get healthy on my own it's going to make my favorite foods disgusting so they never sounds good to me again.  I know most people would call and complain when their order is wrong, but I understand that mistakes happen.  I've been there.  Plus, if I don't take the universe's hint, it might do something really horrible, like causing that location to go out of business or burn it down or something.  I just couldn't have that on my conscience.  So for now, I think I'll just stick to Lean Cuisine lunches or something.  At least until I get down to a size that the universe deems appropriate.  Then maybe it'll let me have Cafe Rio again.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Little Sins and White Lies

It was an mp3 player.  When I first saw it, I wasn't even sure what it was.  I've always been an iPod girl.  It confused me for a second, just a flash of something black and red underneath the covers when Lexie got out of bed.  I threw the covers back, and picked it up.  "What is this?"  She looked at me, half asleep, and just shrugged her shoulders.  "Where did it come from?"  She didn't know.  I took her downstairs and got her going on breakfast.  It was Easter morning, she would be going to church with my parents in a little over an hour, and I didn't have time to deal with it right then.  I took it back upstairs with me, and gave it to Cory.  He's the one who revealed the identity of the little thing.  But where did it come from?  How long had we had it?  It wasn't something either of us recognized.  The realization seemed to hit both of us at the same time.  Mae Mae.

Lexie had just come home the night before from spending the night at Mae Mae's house.  She must have gotten it from her.  But why would she give it to her?  She already had an iPod, and she really didn't need something else to play music on.  She's eight, her music selection is kind of limited as it is.  And why didn't Lexie just say she had gotten it from Mae Mae?  Did she... steal it?  After I finished getting Lexie ready for church and sent her on her way I texted Mae Mae to get the truth.  "Did you give Lexie an mp3 player?"  The response took a little while coming back.  It was just a toy at Mae Mae's house, but yes it did belong to her.  No, Lexie didn't have permission to bring it home.  My heart sunk.

This was our first experience with flat-out stealing.  We'd had a couple of other incidents with her finding things at school and bringing them home where we made her take them back and put them in the lost and found because how would she feel if someone else found something she lost and took it home?  She seemed to get the point.  So why this?  Why now?  When Lexie got home we sat her down and talked to her.  She seemed to understand what she had done, and she honestly seemed to be sorry about it (now that she had been caught).  She got grounded, and had to spend the rest of the day in her room in bed.  I'm so not ready for this phase of her growing up.  She still seems so little to me, but at the same time I know she needs to be punished so she doesn't think she can get away with it.  Where is the balance?  And what do I do next time?  I really wish kids would come with an owners manual sometimes.

Friday, April 22, 2011

A BIG Week

I have to admit, I was a little worried about Phillip being out of school all this week for spring break. He tends to regress really fast, and he seemed to be so close to talking.  I didn't want him to lose it.  Well, I didn't need to worry.  My baby boy is TALKING.  It all started a few nights ago.  He was running around in the playroom while I was fixing dinner, and Cory was downstairs on the computer.  He was jabbering the way he always does, and I wasn't paying much attention.  I know, great mom that I am.  Anyway, Cory came to the bottom of the stairs and said "Are you hearing this?"  I started listening, and he was saying something very close to "Lexie".  He's gotten it close a few times, but this was consistently close, and he was saying it over and over again.  I thought that was kind of cool. 

Then, the next night, again down in the playroom, he was running around the room going "up, up away!" over and over again.  He was running around in circles and laughing.  We'd say it back to him, and he'd say it again and run away and laugh.  He's mimicked for a while, so I didn't really think much of it.  It wasn't relevant, so on we went with our routine.

Two nights ago, we picked him up from my mom's house and came home.  We pulled in to the garage, and then got out and walked over to our neighbor's house to see them for a minute.  On the way back, Phillip got really agitated and started whining.  We came in the house, and he threw a full-on fit in the middle of the living room.  I went and sat down with him, and pulled him on my lap.  I asked him what was wrong, and he sat there for a few seconds.  He got up, grabbed my hand, dragged me over to the front door, put my hand on the doorknob, and said "O-PEN DOOR".  I just sat there for a second, we really didn't have time to go outside.  He said it again.  "O-PEN DOOR.  I opened the door to see what he would do, and he dragged me out on the front porch.  I let him stay out there for about a minute, and brought him back in.  He started whining again. Cory came in from the garage, and I said "watch".  I took Phillip over to the door and said "What do you want?"  He said "O-PEN DOOR" again.  Cory said he deserved a reward, and took him outside for a walk.  When they were coming back, Phillip wasn't ready to come inside, so Cory took him over to the gate heading in to the backyard.  He had to fiddle with the lock, and again Phillip told him to open the door.  WOW.

The next day, yesterday, my mom called me quite a few times while I was at work.  During these phone calls, she said Phillip kept saying  "tamaline" or something similar to that.  She couldn't understand what he was saying.  She said "What do you want?" and he said "jump".  He was asking for the trampoline.  When she didn't understand that, he said jump, a word he's familiar with and he knew that was what you did on the "tamaline".  While she was on the phone telling me this, he came and grabbed her hand and took her to the bathroom where he put her hand on the door.  She took him in, stripped him down, and put him on the toilet.  She got another phone call and had to go, but called me back a few minutes later to let me know he had USED the toilet.  A lot.  Amazing progress.

Cory said today that while I was at work he told Phillip they were going to go have hot dogs for lunch, and he said very clearly "hot dog... hot dog....YUMMY."  And then finally, tonight, I was getting him ready to go out to dinner with Mae Mae, and we had some extra time.  I let him pick his shirt out (by holding two up and letting him pick one) and then changed his diaper.  I handed him his socks, and he put them both on, something he's been able to do for awhile now.  I handed him his pants, and he quickly put them to the side.  I picked them up and put one foot just inside one leg of the pants.  He pulled that leg all the way on, and then put his other leg in and pulled them all the way up.  He needed help doing up the snap and zipper, but he got them all the way on.  Then, I held up his shirt so he could see the hole.  He put his head where the hole was, used his hands to pull it down over his head, and put his arms in the arm holes.  He pretty much got himself dressed.

The things he is saying and doing now are relevant, appropriate, and amazing.  I can't believe how much progress he has made so quickly.  I have waited and waited for this day to come.  Tonight when we were sitting on the couch after he got himself dressed I pulled him on to my lap and told him how amazing I think he is and how he is getting to be such a big boy.  His whole face lit up, and he got the biggest smile.  I can tell that he loves his independence, and I'm hoping he continues to advance as quickly as he has.  I sure love him.

Friday, April 15, 2011

My So-Called "Life"

"If a man who enjoys a lesser happiness behold a greater one,
let him leave aside the lesser to gain the greater"

My mom and I had a discussion recently about something someone said about me in passing.  I don't think she meant it to be hurtful, and it wasn't exactly, but it's made me think.  The comment was about my lack of a life.  It reminded me a little about being in elementary school, and you don't realize that you're different until someone else points it out to you.  I honestly did not realize until that point that I don't have a life, at least not one to write home about. 

A few years ago I moved back in with my parents in the midst of a very messy split with Delinquent Ex.  It was only supposed to be for a week while he got the help he needed to be the husband and father I needed him to be.  That week turned in to a little over three years.  I was left with a shattered marriage, no independence, no car, and no money.  I was working, but because of some un-wise decisions I had lost the ability to have a bank account.  My dad opened a bank account in his name for me to have my paychecks deposited in to, and every time I needed something I had to have him buy it for me and transfer the money from "my" account in to his account. 

When I realized that moving back "home" was not an option, my parents and I sat down to have a talk.  They would allow me to live with them if I would let them help me get back on my feet again.  It would take a lot of work, but I was SO grateful they were willing to help me.  They gave me a place to live, and paid for food for my children and me so that I could save money to begin getting out of debt.  I was responsible for paying for the kids clothes and anything else we needed, but if it wasn't a necessity it would need to wait until my financial situation was under control.  I had no life outside of work.  I didn't go out with friends, I didn't eat out, I didn't buy anything I didn't need to survive.  I gave up my life at that time to be able to have a future.

Fast forward:  September 2009, I bought a car.  I was enough out of debt to be able to qualify for the loan on my own.  My dad got me a credit card that was linked to his, so that I could buy gas and have the ability to buy things while I was out.  Every month he would transfer the money from "my" account to his to pay the credit card bill.  Two weeks after I bought the car, I went out for ice cream with a friend.  It was the first outside of work social interaction I'd had with anyone other than Delinquent Ex in a year and a half.  It was my first little taste of "independence". 

A year and a half later, Cory and I got married.  I still wouldn't say I have much of a "life", but we live in our own house, we own a car that we can afford to pay for, we are living on a budget and making it work.  There is a future for us.  My life may not consist of much more than working, coming home, eating dinner with my family, and snuggling up with the love of my life to watch something on Netflix, but I love it.  I wouldn't change a single element of my life for the best Hollywood party or a designer wardrobe.  Nothing I gave up during the time I was rebuilding my life was worth me not having the life that I have now.  My past is what has made me who I am today.  I know what I can live through, and I'm stronger because of it. 

"Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. 
But to hold it together when everyone else would understand
if you fell apart, that's true strength"

Thursday, April 7, 2011

A Chain of Events

It was quarter after 9:00.  The interview was supposed to start fifteen minutes ago.  I was sitting in traffic on the complete opposite side of the valley, bawling.  I didn't know anyone's phone number, I had no idea where I was supposed to be going, and there was nothing I could do about it.  I had almost not even applied for the job.  When I first got the notification that they were hiring, I had skimmed over it and immediately deleted it.  It was a step down from where I was, a cut in pay for a dead end job.  There would be no room for advancement, the entire department was three people, and the only reason they were hiring was because one of them was moving out of state.  They sent the job posting to me because I had worked with them on a project, and I had a natural talent for making sense of the nonsensical.  But I had worked too hard to get where I was, and the pay was too good for me to justify leaving it. 

The decision I had made seemed to make sense in my head, but my heart was in turmoil.  I kept going back to the job posting, looking over every detail to see what it was that kept drawing me back to it.  I knew I could do it, there was no question.  The problems I would be dealing with made sense in my head in a way that no one else seemed to grasp.  But there were too many negative things about it for me to be able to apply for it.  It was in a building clear across town, forget being able to take public transportation.  I'd have to get a car, which was an added expense I didn't have room for.  I was trying to get out of debt, not get worse into it.  It would be a pretty dramatic pay cut, almost 25% less than what I was making now.  It would be a step down, and a single mother of two kids didn't have room to take a step down.  So why did I keep coming back to it?

The supervisor of the department sent me an email asking if I was going to apply, and I outlined to her all the reasons that I couldn't.  She said I should at least apply, and maybe they could work out some kind of deal to make things easier for me.  She'd talk to her boss.  I did what I always did when I needed to make a big decision.  I went home and talked things out with my parents.  My life was so closely intertwined with theirs that I knew they would see the logic in me keeping my current job.  That would make my decision final.  Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy.  They made a very compelling argument for me applying for the job.  Yes, it would be a step down, but it would get me in a career path that made me happy and right now while I was living with them I could afford to take a step back and re-focus on where I wanted my life to go.  I would have to get a car, but I was almost all the way out of debt and I had talked about getting a car anyway.  I applied for the job.

Back again to sitting in traffic.  I had convinced myself that I was just applying because I told the supervisor I would, and even if they offered me the job I probably wouldn't take it.  So why was I so upset I was late for the interview?  I honestly felt like my heart was breaking.  I almost couldn't breathe.  I finally made it to the interview at 9:30, half an hour after it was supposed to start.  I was shaking so bad I could hardly walk, but I followed the supervisor down the hall to the room where three other people waited.  I took my seat, apologized, and tried to compose myself.  They started asking questions, and I honestly can't remember what was said.  I answered, but the answers seemed to come from somewhere else.  They made sense, they were well thought out, they sounded educated.  This was not the person who not even three minutes earlier was in full panic attack in the parking lot.  Fifteen minutes later, it was over.

I was sitting at work the next day, and my phone rang.  It was the supervisor I had interviewed with.  She told me that I was perfect, exactly what they were looking for, and if I didn't take the job they would have to re-list it and do interviews all over again because there was no one else who had applied who could come close to what I would bring to the job.  I got a warm feeling that started in my toes and fingers and slowly spread throughout my whole body.  I told her I'd take it, without even thinking.  Before I knew it, I was in my boss' office giving my two weeks notice.  Two weeks and three days later, I started my new job. 

The reason the job felt so perfect for me displayed itself in a way I never expected, and it took almost a year for me to learn why it was so absolutely necessary that I get this job.  That reason is Cory.  He is where my life is supposed to be, and getting this job put him directly in my path and put me directly in his.  Everything made sense when I realized he was my destiny.  Without this job, we never would have met.  I am so grateful every day that even when my head couldn't make sense of the situation, my heart knew where it was supposed to be and gave me the push to get me where I am now.  Three years ago today I started my new job.  I wouldn't change a thing. 

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

An Overall Disappointing Day

Yesterday pretty much sucked.  There really isn't a nice way to put that.  The morning started with me not being able to get my butt out of bed.  My alarm went off at six, and I didn't get up until six fifteen.  Somehow, I thought I had plenty of time.  By the time we left, we had twenty minutes to drop the kids off at Grandma's and make it across town to the courthouse.  Once we were there, it was a lot of waiting.  Then some more waiting.  And then yes, more waiting.  Court was scheduled to begin at 8:30.  They recommended we get there at eight because "you really don't want to be late for this."  We made it by eight, filed the paperwork and stuff that needed to be done by eight fifteen, and were in the courtroom by eight twenty.  Court did not start until ten to nine.  Once it began, things moved pretty quickly.  We waited during a couple of other hearings, neither of which lasted longer than five minutes, and then it was my turn.  I knew on my way up to the podium that I was going to cry.  Nerves, anger at the situation, knowing we were going to lose, and hatred for the evil man I was going up against built up inside me, and I started crying before I even started talking.  The sweet judge said "take your time, there is no rush."  I told him (through sobs) that I was disputing the garnishment because the debt was not mine, and Delinquent Ex was supposed to take responsibility for all of his debts from the point that we separated.  He told me he understood, but that the law was very clear and according to the law the debt was my responsibility too.  I would have to pay it, but I could sue him for the debt that I paid and would also get awarded lawyer fees for having to sue him.  All that would get me is another judgement against him that I'll never get paid back for, seeing as how Delinquent Ex has no desire to work.

From there, we went to three different banks to pay child support and talk about options for reducing the amount of money we are paying each month on debt.  We have a few things outstanding that we have been looking at different options on, and we were able to reduce most of our debt down to one loan at barely over 3% interest.  That was the sweet spot of the day.  Instead of paying the minimum payments on everything and taking the rest of eternity to pay it off, we are now going to be able to pay about two thirds of what we were paying, and only pay it over the next five years.  It's quite liberating to know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and we can see the point now where we will be completely out of debt.  We also found out that with just a few changes Cory and I can both have credit scores over 700 within the next six months, something I thought would never happen.  When Delinquent Ex and I split up four years ago, I had a credit score of 450 and was close to 60,000 dollars in debt.  It has taken a lot of hard work and sacrifice (both on my part and my parents) for me to get where I am today, and seeing that score and knowing we could qualify for a house in the near future made it all worth it.

The next stop was Phillip's speech therapy evaluation with the specialist I mentioned a few days ago.  They confirmed that they are pretty sure the insurance won't cover it, gave us the price of the therapy (300 for the eval and 150 per each session) and told us that they think it would be beneficial for them to see Phillip every week, once for speech and once for occupational therapy.  That's 300 a week.  I would need to take a second job just to pay for his therapy, and then I would never be around to reinforce what we are learning.  It's so frustrating (again) knowing that there are things out there to help him, but unless your rich or have good insurance there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.  Even if we could afford it, there is no way I could take the time off work to take him to his appointments.  I'm not sure what's going to happen with this, but it was disheartening to say the least.

A quick visit with my Aunt, cousin, and cousin's ADORABLE baby, one more stop at the bank to sign some papers, and we met up with Mae Mae and the kids at Texas Roadhouse for dinner for Lexie's birthday.  The poor kid, having to share her birthday with what were (at this point) two pretty ornery parents.  By the time we met them, they had already been there about twenty minutes and Phillip was getting tired of sitting.  We had what had to be the worst server we've ever had there, and by the end of the meal Cory and I were beyond done.  Lexie got her "birthday yell" and got to sit on the saddle, what she had wanted, and we brought the cake and presents home to deal with on another day.  She was in bed within minutes of coming home, and Phillip followed not too far after.  I'm not sure if it was the stress of the day or if there was something wrong with it, but dinner did not stay with me for very long that night.  Cory and I were both in bed by eight, and we were lucky to make it even that far.  I couldn't wait to go to work today, just to get a break.   

Monday, April 4, 2011

My Little Girl

I was induced.  She was my first one doing that with.  I remember thinking how much easier it was, having it scheduled.  I could make sure babysitters were arranged, take time to pack my bag, get a good night sleep the night before.  I didn't have to wonder with every little ache "is this it?"  We checked in to the hospital a little after nine.  I was already at about a 4.  I had been for two weeks.  I was so freaked out about the epidural I had planned to wait until I couldn't stand it anymore before asking for it.  Unfortunately, the hospital didn't cooperate.  The anesthesiologist was going in to be with another patient during surgery, and I could have it before labor started, or wait an hour and a half.  Who knew where I would be then?  So I got the epidural right away.  The nurse started the pitocin.  And we waited. 

We had been told to take plenty of things to keep us entertained, being induced could take forever.  We started watching a movie.  The nurse came in periodically to check things.  I was dilated to a 5 within half an hour.  I was at a five and a half fifteen minutes after that.  About halfway through the movie, I started to feel a little... off.  Not pain, just really incredible pressure.  I asked for the nurse.  She came in, very skeptical and almost bothered that I was asking to be checked.  She told me she had just checked me half an hour ago and I was only at a five and a half then.  I couldn't be further than a six now.  I remember almost crying, knowing something was wrong, and asked her to just please check me.  She put on a glove, got in position to check, and immediately pushed my legs back together.  "There is the baby's head, I need you to keep your legs together."  She ran out of the room, and the next five minutes were a flurry of activity.  No one could find my doctor.  He was delivering another baby, and I couldn't wait.  They pulled in another doctor who was prepping for a c-section.  He walked in, told me to push, I pushed twice, he caught the baby and within three minutes he was gone again. 

I remember squeezing my eyes shut as I started to push and then feeling the weight of her body on my belly.  I was afraid to look at her, I was so used to the newborn babies being squished and deformed.  Her dad leaned down and whispered in my ear "open your eyes, she's beautiful".  I looked down, and there was this perfect little angel resting peacefully on my belly.  She had a perfectly shaped little face, tons of dark hair all over her head and down her back, beautiful coloring.  She was the most angelic baby I'd ever seen.  I loved her instantly, and it has only grown stronger over the last 8 years.
Now she is a little ball of energy, never holding still for more than ten seconds.  She talks a mile a minute.  She is an amazing big sister to Phillip, has the motherly tendencies that a child like him needs in an older sibling.  She loves to be around a lot of people, and makes friends wherever she goes.  She has a bright smile and deep dimples that make even the grumpiest of people smile back at her.  She is a star student, learning to read chapter books and doing geometry way earlier than I ever remember doing it.  She is the light of my life, loving, compassionate, smart.  I couldn't imagine my life without her, and I am so lucky I get to be her mom. 

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Bad Dreams and Court Dates

I can always tell when I'm stressed about something, because it becomes a recurring theme in my dreams.  For the last three nights, I've been having nightmares about going to court tomorrow.  We have a hearing before the judge at 8:30 to attempt to stop Delinquent Ex's debt from being garnished out of my paycheck.  Apparently, I've been stressing about it.  Two nights ago (even though I knew it was Friday night) I had multiple dreams that I would be somewhere, and someone would say one of those stupid Monday things that always get thrown around. "I sure wasn't ready for the weekend to be over".  Or the classic "sounds like someone has a case of the Mondays".  I would ask what they were talking about, and then realize it was Monday, and I had missed court.  I was actually glad when Cory woke me up before he left for his paintball game because it meant I could stop dreaming.  Last night, it was the classics.  The dreams that I have every time before something big is about to happen. The one where I sleep through my alarm.  The one where I'm struggling to get ready and time is just flying by and I know I'm not going to be there on time.  The one where I show up and realize I am completely not  prepared and have no idea what I'm going to say.  I have these before weddings, interviews, presentations at work, and now, court appearances.

In reality, I'm doing everything I can to prepare.  I have gotten together as much proof as I can that Delinquent Ex and I were separated at the time of service, even though we didn't get divorced until almost two years later.  I've filled out everything I can.  We talked to our lawyer about it on Friday.  He is a jack of all trades, and one of the things he specializes in is collections.  He actually heads a collections office out of another location, so he's very familiar with the laws.  I told him I had court to attempt to stop the garnishment.  First thing he said, "you're going to lose."  He explained multiple things to me about what the process is, and it sounds like it's gone far enough in the process that getting them to stop is going to be ridiculously difficult.  It hurt to hear, but at least now I don't have my hopes up too high.  We are going in prepared to lose, and it will just be a nice surprise if we win.  At least we're trying. 

Friday, April 1, 2011

The Day of Fools

Happy April Fools Day... not..  I hate this day.  I hate all the "lets see how many times we can make a fool out of people" that every company out there seems to thrive on.  "Let's offer amazing deals and make it impossible to get to them.  People will think it's HILARIOUS."  "Let's put a link on our website for a free sample that makes it look like you've downloaded some horrible virus when you click on it.  People will totally get it's a joke and not call their computer support and almost lose their jobs...  right?"  "Let's make a blog post that is really gross and not even remotely funny and shows that I have absolutely no sense of humor at all and makes me sound like the sick narcissist I am and then end it by saying "Happy April Fools Day" so I can get away with it."  Ok, so I'm exaggerating.  Kinda.  It's possible I stumbled across at least one of those today. 

I find it completely fitting that today, the day of fools, Cory and I have a meeting with our lawyer to discuss a strategy for our upcoming trial.  There are so many fools involved in that whole scenario that it doesn't even deserve elaborating.  Let's hope it goes better than the last meeting, during which we sat in his waiting room for an hour and never even got to meet with him because he was too busy even though we had taken off work early and driven all the way downtown to meet him.  Wow, discovered some unresolved bad feelings there..  will work to get that out of my system. 

The meeting with the lawyer is preceded by a meeting at work with a bunch of developers about a new program we are coming out with and a massive problem that was discovered yesterday.  Basically the one thing this "automated" program is supposed to do, it isn't.  It's causing errors, which someone will then have to go in and correct to get it to do what it's supposed to do.  "Automated system", yeah, not so much.  It will turn in to the users blaming the programmers, the programmers blaming the QA guys, the QA guys blaming the users, and nothing getting accomplished.

To top all this off, I had numerous bad dreams last night involving characters from a TV show Cory and I have been watching a lot of lately mixed in with dreams of me sleeping through my alarm (just because I am DANGEROUSLY close to not getting all my hours in this week) and thinking I'm falling out of bed.  I'd sure like to know what the meaning is behind all of that.

Anyway, it should shape up to be a pretty "as expected" April Fools Day, because in my life I don't need someone specific to play a trick on me.  The universe is doing a pretty good job of that all by itself.