Mother’s Day Eve Fish Fry 2014

It’s Mother’s Day Eve and QoD had to have herself a fish-fry.  I know, I know, I wasn’t going to go.  I had 12 hours of sleep last night, and woke up feeling very groggy.  I missed the breakfast I was supposed to have with Dad and his wife.  I barely made it to work on time.  But by 10:15, MAN, was I perky!

So I decided this morning that I was going to go to the fish fry.  I just felt so GOOD and life is AMAZING and whomp-whomp-whomp.  I can’t decide if I’m genuinely feeling just that good, or if this is still some hypomania trailing around.  Probably a little of both.  Twelve hours of sleep will do amazing things if you haven’t had much in the past month.

We had a little rain, so the cooking didn’t even start until around 7:30, which is way too late to start a fish fry, if you’ve ever been to one.  We didn’t have any food until 8:30 and no fish until 9:00.  That’s ok though because I had a great time chatting with everyone.

Everybody was there, Blue Cat and Rock and Tall Tale and QoB and the Big Dawg.  Even Snickers, who used to work at the store until he had some medical problems that put him on disability, was there.  I think a good time was had by all.  The evening mostly consisted of re-telling funny shop stories and everyone giving each other shit.

Blue Cat gave me the most shit of all.  He claims he’s going to “hook me up” with Snickers (who is also his best friend).  I just don’t know about that.  I’m definitely not wanting to be hooked up with anyone period, but Snickers is also a lot older than I am and has a lot of health problems.  I hope Blue Cat is just pulling my chain, but he kept saying about it and swore he was being serious.  I wouldn’t mind hanging out and having fun, but not on a relationship level, at all.

Speaking of getting hooked up, it is feeling really good to be single.  To come home to a house that has only a dog in it.  To not have messes cropping up everywhere.  To not have to be somewhere at a certain time or worry about what he is going to say about something or to not have to cook a dinner how he would like it.  Freedom!  It feels amazing.

You know what else is amazing?  I bought a container of bacon bits at the grocery store on Thursday, and they are still in the pantry, unopened.  That has been unheard of in this house for the last two years.  It’s little things like that, which make me oh-so-happy and grateful he is gone.  I can honestly say that, so far, I don’t really miss him or Rascal.  All I get is this huge sense of relief.

I think Kizzie feels relieved, too.  While she probably misses the playing, Rascal was aggressive about food, territory, and people.  Ok, everything.  And he was the most neurotic dog ever, just SO high strung.  He demanded everyone’s 110% attention, all the time.  Now she’s just Momma’s little puppy again and it seems like she’s really, really happy.  That might be me projecting my happiness onto her, but she sure does SEEM happier.

I probably stayed out a little too late tonight and was definitely almost three hours past taking my meds on time (yikes!) but I took them and the extra olanzapine about 30 minutes ago.  I’m going to take another olanzapine and then one of these new flurazepams and go lie in bed and read.  I will probably pay for all of this tomorrow, but right now I don’t care.  I had fun tonight for the first time in quite awhile, and I wouldn’t take it back.

The Unexcitable Birthday Boy

DSB and I vary in many different respects, but one of our more glaring differences is in the “excitability” department.  I get excited by many things, by dogs being silly, by a new hair tie, a new shirt, DSB taking the trash to the road, mashed potatoes for dinner.  DSB gets excited about nothing, and I mean nothing.  A cool new power tool for his shop gets you a smile, possibly.  Country fried steak for dinner gets you a big thank-you, but no excitement.  I honestly think he could win the lottery and just say, “Hey, that’s cool,” and move onto welding the next piece of fence.  He just doesn’t get excited.

And he gets the opposite of excited around holidays, including his own birthday.  I don’t know how many times I’ve heard, “It’s just another day,” during the weeks leading up, as QoB and I try to make dinner plans and figure out what cake he wants.  In the end, we wrangled out of him that he would most enjoy a fish-fry, but would not commit on a cake, giving my mom two options, “so she can do whatever is best for her.”

DSB’s birthday is tomorrow and he will be the big 4-2.  It’s not that he’s worried about getting older, because I know he’s not, it’s that he doesn’t want anyone making a big deal or going out of their way for him.  He likes to go out of his way for other people, but feels awkward when someone does it for him, because that’s just how he was raised and also that is how his life has been over the years.  DSB is not accustomed to people making a fuss over him, and I live in a family of fussers.

I don’t have a lot of money, but I do know how to find a bargain.  There is a discount hardware store in town, and I knew that $50 would go a long, long way.  I also know, from listening to DSB talk about work, that there are a lot of smaller items that he is needing.  Armed with my calculator, a coupon, and a little bit of money on my debit card, I headed out to wage battle with the unwashed masses at the always-packed Harbor Freight.

After grabbing a cart, I headed straight for the screwdriver/hammer/etc aisle.  I have been in the store many times with DSB, so I luckily know where most everything is at.  What I wasn’t prepared for, is just how many different sets of screwdrivers there were.  Picking up each package and holding it right before my nose so I could see, I scrutinized a wall of screwdriver sets that would put Home Depot to shame.  Finally selecting what I thought was the best product for the price, I moved on.

I knew DSB really needed a no-bounce hammer because Mom stole his.  What I ran into, again, is that there was a large variety to choose from.  I put one in the cart, looked at it, put it back.  Put another one in the cart, looked at it, put it back, until finally I found one that I thought replaced the one he had before.

This continued on throughout the store.  Standing in awe in front of massive displays of any kind of tool you can imagine, picking each one up, pondering, considering.  I was in Harbor Freight for over an hour.  That might be a new record, considering it’s not an exactly huge place.

DSB ended up with a screwdriver set, pliers set, no-bounce hammer, two metal C-clamps, utility scissors, large container of bungee cords, and (mostly for my benefit) a huge tub of Goop hand cleaner.  I was excited, I was thrilled.  I only went over my budget by ten dollars, I got some amazing deals, and I was positive DSB was going to like all of my selections.

When I got out to the parking lot, I texted him and said, “Get ready to open some presents.  Soon!”  I know it’s silly, but I was so excited that I couldn’t wait for tomorrow and I was literally foisting these packages on him as soon as I pulled up the driveway to the garage where he works.  I’m happy to say that he had a big grin on his face and gave me a tight hug and a sweet kiss.

I told him the story of my shopping spree, about my indecision in just which set of screwdrivers to pick and the amazing assortment of no-bounce hammers, and I had him laughing so hard that tears were coming out the corners of his eyes.  So, excitable, no.  Easily pleased and amused?  Yes!