Work and my Adopted Grandma

I don't usually write about work, but something is happening that has me in tears.

Someone at my office, let's call her Grandma, has been there longer than anyone else here. She welcomed me with open arms since day one, even when my predecessor shat all over her. I taught her how to use a computer from "this is a mouse" to "Payroll's done" even with a crippled dominant hand. 

Anyway, she has a serious illness that just came to our attention yesterday. She waited to get help for a large growth because she was afraid of Covid. So she may not be coming back to work because, well, healing's a big deal and work can take a flying flip. I'm worried for her and her family.

On a related note, we need to keep things moving while she's not here, despite having no clue how she ran this ship in occasionally troubled waters. We are wondering how one woman in her 90s was able to stuff so much work into her few hours a week. We've got no clue how things are organized, much less how to do all but the basic tasks.

But the biggie? I have to come to the terms that nobody lives forever, despite wanting them to.

So all my fretting and stewing over the weekend about a reprimand (that never came) was for naught. It was taken over by far more important things. Far more troubling things.

Moral: live life to the fullest. And leave notes on how to run a tight ship. Or at least how to not sink a blow-up dinghy.

Could Have Been Worse

My mental status is often directly correlated to how I see myself and how adversarial I am to myself. Talking down to myself, Should-ing, Could-ing, etc. That occasionally puts a damper on the healthiness of my food. 

Background: Steroids suck. I had to take a high dose taper last week. The mad-raving munchies finally caught up with me over the weekend. I felt it rising for a few days before and I was pleasantly surprised that it hadn't kicked in much earlier--like mood swings in the middle of work.

Now, having said that, steroids still suck. I spend most of the weekend with full-on blast of energy and the alternate of slug napping. The rather unfortunate extra was that I was ready to eat EVERYTHING in the fridge/pantry.   But I didn't.  

Nope, I stayed the course and, while I overate, it wasn't on the things that are (mostly) off limits for consumption in my ideal world. Did I want that thick stack of pancakes? Oh God Yes. But I held it down for the most part. Only threw me off two days instead of what would probably have taken a full week to fix had I gone with the Gee-I-Want It and NEEEED it method of shoving my face into a stack of pancakes. One good thing? All of the things I munched on were already edible in their base form. No cooking needed! 

I'm not happy with the scale, but I know that I am shrinking because my shirts and pants fit better, and when it comes down to it, the last thing that really matters is that scale. Still only rarely exercising (yeah yeah, I need to start weights) on the treadmill, but that is more than I have been since December and pre gallbladder/foot issues.

Now I get to retrain my body to a real sleep/wake cycle after riding out the prednisone. Anyone got a brick? I hear they are good for helping people sleep.

Update on Comcast: The almost didn't fix their ****. I insisted again. TADA! Next up: Dealing with Comcast for work due to a faulty line that they already said they fixed once. I hate Comcast with a fiery burning passion, but their business service seems to go smoother than the residential version.

Tribulus Terrestris and Other Victims of My Rage

Goatheads. Nature's Caltrop. Tribbles. And while they spread like their Star Trek counterparts, these have no redeeming cuteness qualities. 

No. Not this type. Even he won't eat these abominations.

They and their other weedy counterparts fell at my hand last weekend. I succeeded in at least round 1 of the great culling. More will be needed on another weekend, but I put in a good showing with about a half a trash bag of those and the almost-as-vile silver-leafed nightshade with its sharp fine filaments that pass technically as spines. The damn spines made it all the way through my elk-hide gloves! I was...displeased.

It's been dry at my house, like dry enough that the drought-tolerant Russian thistles (still-alive tumble weeds) are having trouble growing. Good for me though, so long as I remember to water the plants that should be there. 

In other news, well...new to some people... Comcast is a pain in the *** to deal with, especially since I got to be on the line with seven (7) different representatives yesterday, only to get disconnected, much like what happened last week. Finally late last night I convinced them to fix their system right this time. Or at least to try. I loathe Comcast with a fiery burning passion, but they do provide a service that is required at the moment. Good friends even perked up a day that Comcast had ruined (never be on with customer service when on steroids).

Now life is good. Lunch has been had. And it should be smooth sailing for the next few hours. Or at least I can hope!

Dad is home so Link is spending most of his time either on Dad's lap or playing ball...or eating. Everything that Dad eats, so does the dog. I had just gotten Link down to a reasonable weight again. Oh well, it makes them both happy!

I'm managing to go the opposite direction from the dog. Still working on it and seeing success, so I will keep up the fight and even introduce exercise again! Slow steps. Lots of support from family, so that makes life much less difficult than it could be. And now lunch is over, so it is time to hang this up for the moment. 

Things are Indeed Happening

Things are happening. Yes. Things. Of various types. 

I am pleased to see that the keto food plan is still working, though there was a week of stubborn-scale syndrome. I can't really complain given the results early on. I'm twelve pounds from where I was at my lowest in December. I should hit that in the next month or two, then on to new territory. 

On that food thing, Mom's joining me through her work program. It is going to be interesting with Dad home, but we will still manage well since everyone knows how to cook. Don't like dinner? Augment what's there or make your own. No biggie. Eggs, tuna, and cheese are frequent flyers in my playbook that require little to no cooking and fit the bill as "safe" food. The big question: Am I willing to set myself back a week for a tasty little/large feast of goodness?

That question comes up because the fresh and homemade cinnamon sticky rolls awaiting my return to the house are going to be a pain in the ass to not eat one after the other. But I can hold strong. Maybe I will be happy with just a half of one! Maybe not. It will be the first willingly munched bread product that I have had in... almost two months? But I am not passing up the goodness... Though now that sounds like it could indeed be an option if I have the will/won't power to stay away despite the siren song of cinnamon wafting throughout the house.

But I digress. I have choices. I will make them as I see fit at the time.

I keep waiting for rain, real soaking rain for the monsoon. But I am left wanting. A spit of rain here, a quick-and-gone downpour with no actual rain soaking in, but nothing of note. That is great news for the mosquito prospects, but lousy for my yard. One good thing is that the dirt is officially too dry for Russian thistles (aka live tumbleweeds) to grow. Goatheads? That puncturevine is evil and doesn't seem to care about the heat. I have next weekend only to get them out of the yard and into the trash can before they release their evil caltrops of doom upon my yard and the dog's feet.

Finally, I'm sad. My vacation in October falls right over my favorite band's concert (Shinedown, for those who would like to know). I already had purchased a ticket to the concert and failed to check it before scheduling my getaway. The ticket won't go unused though. My might-as-well-be niece also loves the band and is happily taking it off my hands. *sniffle* I want to go so bad, but the vacation was a massive deal and I don't want to reschedule it at twice the price. And not being in Albuquerque during the Balloon Fiesta is a grand thing--I loathe that event, but it makes a lot of vendors happy. So I'm happy I have the cabin, but I about cried when I found out about the conflict. Maybe they'll be back next year.