Weekend Nesting

Well, since I'm not in school for, like, the first time in five years, I'm channeling my nervous energy into three separate and distinct projects: leadership training (consisting of a mind-numbing set of computer-based training modules that cultivate persistence and endurance, not creativity or leadership), reading, and home improvement.

All three went by the wayside during my ethics schooling. That reminds me, I *still* have not received my grade for the program. I'm a certified ethicist...I think. This excruciating delay is only serving to incite weekly nightmares about how I score a 10% on the thesis, am stripped of my pseudo-certification, and must repeat the whole program again. High academic self esteem rocks, I tell ya!

Anyway, this weekend signaled my official return to these three projects. Last winter, during the bone chilling winter storms that churned through the area, we noticed a disturbing phenomenon in our house. When it's crazy windy, the curtains move slightly. The curtains *inside* the house. Enter insulated drapes and strategically-placed towels, rolled up to block the drafts. Well, it's ALWAYS windy here (ironic, no?) and we decided to attack The Leaky House.

They surely do not build houses like they used to. After a quick inspection, I realized that none of the windows are caulked. Huh? Step one: caulk all windows and doors. Step Zero: buy all the caulk Lowe's has in stock. Step Two: don wrist brace to stop agonizing carpal tunnel pain from assaulting the windows with new caulking gun. FAIL.

God orchestrated a cool show for me, though. Taking all the white, thick wood blinds and curtains down, I re-realized how freaking huge our windows are. And the entire time I caulked, storms raged outside. I rather enjoyed the zig-zagging lightning and angry skies...except when I was touching up the outside of the front door and lightning about struck in the front yard, rendering me blind for 30 seconds. Eh, what's lost eyesight in the grand scheme of things?

Nonetheless, Project: Deleakify Leaky House is complete. But it ushered in a whole new checklist of home improvement projects calling me through the sire call of Lowe's. New chandelier, remodeled bathroom, faucets, towel bars, pendant lighting, can lighting, insulation, drywalling the garage, and paint. Oh, the paint. I have samples taped up all over the place with a little multi-voting rating system in place. Move over, HGTV!

[Note to self: schedule carpal tunnel surgery on right wrist.]

My two other projects are continually in tension. I have 2-3 weeks to complete the boring online education and I have a stack of novels awaiting me. I kept picking books up 60-80% off on Amazon and pioneered Kindle-esque reading today via iPad. I think I'll stick to the old-school books. The iPad just can't capture the feel and smell of books and, hey, I cannot get them for $3-4 a piece! I have a hard time prioritizing my leisure time...knock out some education? Devour the new HBR? Kick back on my chaise lounger with a new book? WIN!

And that's what life is like these days. My work/life balance was better this week, but it's a balancing act that rapidly deteriorates the second I take my eye off of it. Too bad I'm still seeing spots from that near-lightening strike yesterday!

Happy Poppies Day

It seems that spring has FINALLY sprung here in Chicagoland. After seventeen straight months of cloudy, cold, rainy/snowy/slushy weather, it's 68 and sunny. I am not working in the den as per my usual style, but am on my chaise lounger outside on the patio. The sun feels SO good. Hiring a housekeeper was the best decision ever; I now spend my weekends working and relaxing...but not cleaning!

Things are looking up at work (mostly because I'm MAKING them look up). The last time I posted, I expressed some frustration and sadness about the events transpiring with my pseudo-promotion. I accessed the records of my new departments and found a staggering pigsty. My gut reaction is to roll up my sleeves and dig in. I even accessed the last Employee Satisfaction survey results and wonder if anyone even looked at them. It's bad. So while I hate this cliche statement, my work is definitely cut out for me!

I'm also processing a few other things right now. Have you ever heard of Tall Poppy Syndrome? I am starting to feel hazy from the opiates. Tall Poppy addresses the social and cultural phenomenon of forced inertia...basically, when a member of your peer group excels, you criticize them, cut them down, or sabotage them to 'encourage' them to stop achieving and excelling. Their success makes you look bad and your instinct is to pull them down.

Another example used to illustrate this concept is crabs in a bucket. One crab starts scaling the wall and the others pull him back down to the bottom.

I'm not saying I'm achieving everything I want or that I'm so wonderful. Not it at all. But what I'm wondering is if my immediate peer group at work is trying to 'encourage' me to slow down a bit. This whole tumultuous situation is making me wonder about the entire group's dynamics. It's scary. How can you turn a hospital around when not everyone's completely on board? I've been adding a lot to my list lately, regarding the type of boss I *don't* want to become. I almost learn more from peoples' weaknesses and bad decisions than I do the good ones!

I'm doing my absolute best to turn that negative energy into positive steam to keep this engine chugging up the hill. Regardless, this is my way of digesting those feelings, by writing about it.

I attended a c-suite dinner the other night at Coopershawk. The food and wine is always divine and this event was a chance for those of us who hope we are c-suite bound to interact with current inhabitants of the c-suite. We talked about succession planning (or, in our case, the lack thereof). The entire discussion (about 18 people) made me painfully realize that my career is my responsibility. My advancement, my achievement, and my future? Yep, all my responsibility.

So THAT is how I am taking all this negative mojo from work and spinning it toward the positive. Right now, my entire job is a constant exercise of turning lemons into lemonade. Or limes into lime juice...for margaritas, of course! It's all about attitude and I'm bound-determined to not let the Tall Poppies have their way. I'm not going to self-select out of the game and let them win.

[Taking deep breath to cleanse my aura. Picturing the clear, turquoise waters of Grand Cayman...ahhhh.]

In other news, Jack and I finished our bedroom, having found the perfect bedding to compliment our wall pictures and curtains. We have not yet purchased new bedroom furniture (not high enough up on the priority list), but our house is basically done. I still can't believe I let Diva Jack talk me into 630 thread-count sheets. But they *are* nice. I woke up this morning thinking I was in a hotel.

This was my mothers' day gift to myself (shut up, I know you rationalize expensive purchases, too!). Even though I am not a mom, technically, I do a lot of mothering to others. I was particularly struck this year by how many people wished me a Happy Mothers' Day. When you get to a certain age, I guess people just assume you're a mom. So I wish them a Happy Mothers' Day back, even to the guys. They dig it, I can tell.

Happy Mothers' Day!

Haunted House

So we moved into our beautiful home in December, during the coldest and snowiest winters that any of us have experienced in years. Despite our home's short life of four years, we've found several design flaws. One, the windows, while double-paned, are COLD. They're leaky. I think it will be better next winter if we recaulk things, but I am not ashamed to break out the clear plastic wrap that you shrink with a hairdryer! (WT alert!)

The other weirdness we experience is the sounds of our ghost moving about in the attic. Again, at four years old, it's odd to have a ghost, right? I hear the ghost (who remains unnamed...for now!) occasionally, and it always happens when I'm home alone. It sounds like he's up there, banging two blocks of wood together.

So imagine my surprise when Jack and I were leaving the house the other night to join friends for a completely fat-free Italian dinner. I looked up at the garage and spied a huge water spot on the ceiling. FABULOUS. A leaky roof? REALLY? Did the ghost bang around too much and damage shingles? I was UPSET.

Jack promised to investigate upon our return. So as soon as we returned from dinner (which, by the way, was a fabulous Italian feast), Jack jumped on the ladder and started scooting around the attic to investigate the leaks (ever seen a guy in slacks and fancy shoes scoot around an attic? It's funny). After several moments of nail-biting nervousness, he pelted me with a snowball. A snowball? From the attic?

It turns out that last week's blizzard was SO SEVERE that snow blew in our roof vents and accumulated in piles in the attic! It was above freezing that day, so the snow piles obviously started melting. Jack shoveled out the attic and pitched piles of snow down. That could have done some serious damage, had all that snow melted!

However, I still wrote a heated letter to the builder about my issues!

It's a good thing I'm not bitter. :)

Colonel Mustard with the Candlestick

I'm happy to report that our library in our new house is just about complete. In all honesty, I have absolutely no excuse to procrastinate.

My prior excuse was that I needed a space to spread out my work stuff and be able to walk away at any time and return at leisure. It's strange; it feels like we just discovered a whole new room of the house. Before the "librarization," the dark, unused room was full of heavy, quasi-collapsing boxes containing our collective 11 years' worth of college books.

What, you thought I was going to throw away that textbook from Psych 110? I paid $156for it back in the day (and that's, like, $3,208 in today's dollars).

Almost all of our furniture is used, we've never thought it very important to have matching decor. Anything that matches in our house is purely through luck and creative garage sale negotiation. But we couldn't find three bookcases to match, even on Craigslist, so we decided to bite the financial bullet.

The other day, Jack ventured out to one of the local furniture stores and bought bookcases, kitchen table and chairs, and an over-stuffed chair for the corner. We hung thick, dark curtains on the windows so we can hunker down and work when necessary. He wants the library to look old and philosophically-inspiring. I asked if we should artificially cover things in a thick layer of dust and write by candlelight with a quill and inkwell. Everything is dark wood and I think Jack wants to replicate the library within the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

I wonder which books qualify as the restricted section?

I didn't study anything very risque and my most scandalous book is along the line of The Last Temptation of Christ. I was curious to finally unpack all the books from undergrad and take a quick inventory of the books I supposedly wrote papers about at Saint Mary's. Back then, I remember thinking that Kant's Critique of Pure Reason and Leibniz' metaphysical Monadology would look cool on a book shelf.

Then again, so do books like How to be Happy, Dammit and How to be Pope. (Thank you to Kant Think, formerly known as Epistemological Doorknob and her husband, Mr. ED). It was strange and weirdly unsettling to unpack all those books. It opened up an emotional Pandora's box, as we both felt the need to flip through books we haven't seen in a decade.

Jack would also like to put one of those wall decals on the wall, stating some lofty, Socratic quote that would motivate us to achieve the professional and intellectual advances we so desire.

Me? I'd like the wall decal to say, "Sit your a** down and work!"

All this talk about the library is making me want to play Clue. Hmm. I wonder if they have that for Wii!

Nomadic Ways

All is well on the home front. And the home front, it seems.

Jack and I started packing this weekend (actually, we more than "started," we're about halfway done and our house is a mess of boxes). We found out that we were formally and officially approved for our mortgage, the inspection was fine, the appraisal was acceptable (well, we think...on those sorts of things, no news is good news) and everything is moving forward according to plan.

In truth, it seems way too easy. I felt reluctant to start packing because, what if something went awry? After selling our house in SB and having so many problems doing so, I can't believe this one is so easy. It's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Nonetheless, we're entering into another crazy time of transition. I left one coffee mug unpacked for each of us, a few pots and pans are out, and the rest of the kitchen is in boxes. We're making it our goal to eat up as much of our food as possible. It's a pet peeve of mine to move food!

Our contract on the house states that we will close no later than December 10; that we can close as soon as the lender has their side in order. Well, the lender has their side in order, so we're preparing to start moving whenever we get those keys! Official moving day is December 11 (for furniture), but if we can get our clothes and fragile stuff in there beforehand, that will be fabulous. Here's to hopin'!

Deja Vu

My life has shifted to include three central items: work, Jack, and the house (don't worry, God still counts as number 0, as the precursor to all three). The house came along at just the right time. I needed a project!

Work will probably take a lot of my time for the next 30 years. Nurse Jackie asked me to create a new service line at the St. Fozzie's (actually, she told me I'm going on a site visit to a hospital in Milwaukee and I actually had to prompt her to tell me what she was asking me to do). I was asked to create an osteoporosis clinic, to help bolster our women's care services. I'm excited about this opportunity, but stoked about the way I keep getting asked to create programs. The ol' resume is growing.

Although we both put a lot of time into work, marriage still comes first. That's why we agreed to have one weekly "date night" per week. It ends up being "go home, get into pj's, and watch America's Funniest Home Videos together on the couch," but that's okay. So that's why this house project came along at the right time. We need something else to do with our lives to get out of work mode more often. Plus, it gives Jack and I an excuse to go bummin' together on weekends.

We took our first trip to Lowe's yesterday, in search of paint colors. We spent hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars at Lowe's during the past several years. We refinished virtually our entire house in SB and regularly strolled the aisles at Lowe's, dreaming up ideas and color schemes for our house. Well, in the new house, it isn't much different. The great thing is that, with a new construction, everything is done. It's new and fresh and we don't have to do anything. Granted, all the fixtures and lights are contractor-grade crapola (and Jack can't stand uniform conformity!), but they are functional. Nonetheless, we strolled the aisles at Lowe's dreaming up our color scheme for the new house.

The weird part? After picking out a new chandelier, pendant lighting for the kitchen, ceramic tile, and a slew of paint colors, we realized that we're subconsciously trying to re-create our old house! We're trying to inject some character into the sterile, bland house! It's an intentional deja vu.

The other thing is that I am tempted to pick paint colors based on their names. Doesn't "Sunset Bliss" sound better than "Pale Ecru?" How about "Serenity" instead of "Washed Denim?" I particularly liked "Creme Brulee" over "Beeswax." Perhaps I shouldn't pick paint colors if I'm hungry.

Regardless, this is super fun and I'm very glad the house opportunity presented itself. It's so easy for me to lose myself in work and the Christmas season is very tough for me. So this will be a great diversion and give me something else to focus on for a while. Plus, it's just great to be able to reorganize everything. Nesting 101!

Our home inspection is Saturday (after which, we're going to hang around and measure for curtains!) and after a successful inspection, the appraisal will be completed. After that, the complete file will go to the underwriters and pending their stamp of approval, we will close the week of December 6, and move to our new house on December 11.

We're HO's Again

...As in "Homeowners!" We got our house today at a perfect equilibrium price. We paid as much as we were willing to pay and the sellers are selling for as small of a price as they'll take. It's just nuts; we got 30% off that price.

A house on sale! Even better! I'll post pictures of the inside when we get the keys in mid-December. Oh, and for the few of you who have asked, the house I posted here two days ago is NOT the real house. It just looks sort of like the two we were vacillating about and I wanted to give you the general idea.

I'm superstitious! I can't help it!

Anyway, I'm plowing forward with my usual 13-14 hour days, (barely) keeping up with my Ethics homework (which is threatening to turn me into a philosophical wreck), negotiating on the house, drinking an awful lot of coffee, AND I have another marathon dental appointment tomorrow. I have plenty of pain meds to see me through this time!

Under St. Fozzie's Wing

So Jack and I hit the road yesterday and looked at five properties. Actually (blushing), we looked at four properties and one of them twice. And we have one more to see again today.

It's down to a stately villa on the Illinois border and a two-story townhouse on a road called St. Fozzie's Avenue. Okay, it's not "St. Fozzie's," but it IS the same name as our hospital. Do you believe in serendipity and all that hoopla? Because I do, to an extent. I rented my current hovel, I mean, house, sight unseen. I knew it would be okay because I logged into Google maps, input my address, then searched for the nearest Catholic church. The nearest church? You got it, St. Fozzie's.

I don't know why we've chosen to attach ourselves to St. Fozzie's (or, perhaps, he's chosen to attach himself to us), but it's getting interesting. We used to walk by this particular townhouse and think, "wow, that'd be a great place to live!" When we drove by and saw a For Sale sign in the yard, I glanced up at the street sign so I could reference the correct listing when calling our realtor. Of course, it was St. Fozzie's Avenue.

In the words of Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone, "Is this a joke?"

So it's down to the villa, which, for the record, qualifies as my dream house and a slightly-more modest (about 400 square feet smaller) townhouse on St. Fozzie's Avenue. We didn't think we'd find a home (or two!) so quickly. But then again, when you know exactly what you want, what you're willing to spend, and where you want to be located, it's easy to focus your search.

Is it bad that I've already been visiting the Crate and Barrel, Pottery Barn, and Ethan Allen websites to discern bedroom furniture choices!??!?

Third Time's a Charm

The house closed! Jack and I are no longer bound to SB!

It took three sales contracts, two home inspections, two appraisals...

...and a partridge in a cherry tree.

(We don't have a pear tree...only a weeping cherry!)

Thank you to everyone for your kind concern while we fought this huge and emotionally-exhausting battle. I just didn't want to pay another month's mortgage on an empty house!

Oh, and a special kudos to St. Joseph, who will need to be retrieved from the back yard by my mother!

Quote Journal: Strength

"That which does not kill us makes us stronger."

-Friedrich Nietzsche

I'm channeling the quotes this week because I really don't know how I'm continuing to keep going every day. I will look back at this time in my life and marvel at how I survived. I will look back and call this a character-builder. I will look back and say something ridiculously-optimistic like, "Yep, that's why I'm a strong woman; it's because of experiences like that."

Pwwwwtttttthhhhhhhhh!

That's why I have abnormally-high levels of stomach acid!

Obviously, I'm not to the joking phase yet.

In short, our house sale fell through. Well, our house was perfectly fine. Our buyer is the one who finked out when we called him on his scheming, plotting ways. I could go on and on about this guy's unethical ways but I'll choose to be mature and simply call him a jerk. That's about as objective as I can be.

After a week where my stomach was eating itself, I've come to terms with this reality and I'd rather our house go to a nice, young couple who will nurture it. This guy would probably gut it and sell pieces on the black market (whoops, there I go again). So we're okay. Jack is shouldering most of this burden and once again, I'm grateful for his unending housing-related optimism.

Thank you, Jack! You're my favorite human. (No offense to the rest of y'all, really.)

Work, by contrast, is picking up positive steam. I had two MAJOR victories just today and times like this really buoy my spirits. First, I presented my huge operational project (yes, the one I cannot talk about) to senior hospital leadership today and it flew. It flew! It went as well as a presentation like that can go. I'm thrilled that I finally feel like I mastered executive presentations; my nerves only kicked in when I had to wait 15 minutes before I was ushered into the boardroom. And as I left the boardroom, I received three quick text messages from three individuals, telling me how well it went. I just presented the results of oh, 100+ hours of strategic analysis.

Alas, we're progressing. People tell me this will be a career-defining event for me. But I'm not supposed to talk about it. So I'll stop.

The other big win I had today was a firm staff meeting with one of my new clinical departments, a department that had never had a director to date. They've run amok and I had to draw a link in the sand...that their days of delinquencies and ignored mandatory requirements are over. I figured I'd leave that meeting battered and bruised but the staff responded well to the expectations. I couldn't help but crack a smile as I walked back to my office, having survived that two hour feat.

So work is going well and I'm receiving respect for the hours and hours (and HOURS) I'm putting in at work. I have more of the "my office is a confessional" feeling, but I'm slowly learning what I can answer and how to allay peoples' unnecessary worries.

Plus, word got out that I stock Laffy Taffy in my office. Maybe THAT's why they're visiting?

I also realized that I won't be able to control all these new areas and projects. I will seek the illusion of control and run with that.

And if this doesn't kill me, I might just become a wee bit stronger from all these trials. If the trials weren't good for me, I have absolute faith that God would remove them from me before I crackle into a pile of Dorrie dust.

Sold!

Jack and I sold our house today! Well, it took about a week, four viewings by the prospective buyers, and a counter-offer, but we received the signed contract today!

This is a HUGE monkey off my back. Having two homes (and two mortgages) is tough while the move itself will prove fun (isn't moving always fun?), I'm relieved that this two-time-zone existence is just about over. Plus, just HAVING the house on the market is stressful. Well, at least it was for Jack because he's the one who always had to show it.

EEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

We didn't get the exact profit we were hoping for, but we didn't lose money either. This is good.

So pending all successful inspections, we'll officially be leaving SB and becoming Chicagoan residents on June 19.

Boyscouts

[As a quick disclaimer, I have no idea who this kid is!]

Jack's been s-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ck the last few days. I haven't seen him this sick in a long time. I felt *so* bad that I was stuck in Chicago and couldn't come home to shower him with Advil, make him Mrs. Grass' soup (from scratch!), or fawn over his feverish body with cold washcloths. After all, he drove for 3 hours to bring me a toaster, a few seasons of Friends, and a piece of his heart when I was sick with piggy flu last fall.

That "in sickness and in health" part of marriage is thumped me over the head and I went home to SB for a scant 24 hours this weekend to visit Jack. He's been painting up a storm these last few weeks and did a marvelous job (with help from Zibby!). The third bedroom (former Girl Cave, where I would go to lounge on the couch, watch True Hollywood Story, and journal about my dreams of owning a B&B in the Bahamas) was transformed into a simple bedroom. Sure, it resembled a room in the convent, but I had my own bed, new, clean bedding, and space to just...breathe.

...Without worrying that I'd inhale Jack's flu bug! It was great to stay at Hotel Jack. I could hang out with Jack and escape to my sanitary lair for a restful sleep in a new bed.

Minnie, our beloved friend and realtor, came over on Saturday to visit, tour our house, and basically let us know if we're going to lose our shirts if we have to sell this spring. Long story short, we're not going to lose our shirts. We stand to recoup about 30% of the $20,000 or so we've invested in the house (50% if we hit paydirt). Coupled with the fact that we've been living there for six years, have dumped a chunk of money into the house, and might come out five dollars ahead...well, it just goes to show that the housing market is still in the dumps.

Perhaps the purchase of real estate isn't practical unless you know you'll live there for 30 years? It begs the question of whether we should have bought this home...then again, no one saw this real estate collapse coming.

At least we've jazzed up the house enough to make it sellable in this cruddy economic market. Just in case we have to sell. The point of having Minnie over was to find out just how bad/good the situation is, financially. We know what we have to do, should we have to sell quickly. We're like boyscouts...always prepared.

Weirdly, though, I am extremely at peace about this whole situation. I'm not at all nervous about my future. Jack's, too. We're going to be just fine. Whatever happens is what is meant to happen.

Valentine's Day BandAid

I spent the entire weekend painting. I painted closets, trim, walls, and even heating vents. My manicure is chipped, but Jack and I crossed about ten things off our list.

Our list of stuff to accomplish before we list our house. It's three pages long.

I guess it's no surprise that we've been preparing to sell. With the job offers I've received in Chicago, it only makes sense that we start preparing our house for the market. There are some projects we've needed to complete, rooms that needed a refreshing coat of paint, and hardware that's been needing updating since we've lived there. Even if, for some reason, we don't have to move, these projects needed completion anyway.

Did I mention that it's been six years as of yesterday? We closed on our house on February 14, 2004. We pulled out of the title company with our keys and drove to our new house. We immediately started cleaning, planning, and gutting. Jack handed me my key and said, "Happy Valentine's Day, honey." It was the most expensive V-Day gift I'll ever receive!

It was weird to spend Valentine's Weekend 2010 up to our eyeballs in paint. We truly came full-circle. On Saturday night, we hauled our exhausted and paint-splattered bodies into showers and Jack whipped up a Panko-encrusted salmon, broccoli, and wedge salads. Jack handed me my plate and said, "Happy Valentine's Day, honey." In our pj's, we enjoyed our feast, barely able to keep our eyes open long enough to finish dinner and watch the two Korean short-track speed skaters crash, giving Ono the silver medal.

Sunday was more of the same. We finished the third bedroom, the trim, the closet, and painted the whole bathroom (it's pretty). Oh, and we recaulked everything in the house that ever needs caulk. I left SB with a sore, shaky-exhausted body and hole somewhere in my heart.

Everyone in my life seems to be moving on. Some of my family members have retired, sought new jobs, and they're adjusting to these changes. A few of my friends found new jobs, are having babies, or found new love. Others are moving on. I'm moving on, too.

Except that some people don't see my progression as, well, progression. They see it more as a threat to the family structure and cannot understand why I would ever leave SB for a job. To them, family is of the utmost importance and everything else is secondary. Family is crucial to me; anyone who knows me well knows that. But I've been given such a gift in this job. I've been encouraged to spread my wings, own my boardroom experience, and make something great of myself. You don't get many chances like this; I'm not naive to this opportunity.

I have a mentor who, after my presentation on Wednesday, jumped up and shook his fist in the air, celebrating my success along with me. It reminded me of the Olympics coaches who exhibit such excitement when their athletes win the gold. They jump up, shake their fist in the air, celebrating with the athletes' hard work and dedication that always pay off in the end.

That's what I need right now. Even if a select few do not agree with my bi-timezone existence, professional dreams, and possible departure from SB, please fake it. Pretend you're happy for me (and Jack). I need positive support right now because as tough as this is for you, it's even tougher for me. I'm straddling two lives and this year has been akin to pulling a bandaid off a wound, very s-l-o-w-l-y.

I went downtown to meet some of my newbie administrator friends for dinner tonight. We went to Sidebar and did our usual "what's your hospital life like?" discussions. While everyone's moving on and slowly transitioning into specific areas in their respective hospitals, no one has to deal with prepping a house and selling in this cruddy economic market. That's a unique worry of mine. Jack's shouldering a huge portion of this burden and I'm very grateful he's strong and persevering in these household endeavors!

Thank you for listening to me vent. Everyone in this forum seems to deeply support me. I am grateful for you and cherish the positive feedback and pep talks you've sent my way.

Nightmare Fodder

So this evening, I finally washed the dishes that shamelessly accumulated in my kitchen sink. It was time. Minding my own business, enjoying the awesome breeze that filters in through my kitchen window, I scrubbed and rinsed, scrubbed and rinsed, scrubbed and...WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!

I lifted a mug and out scurried a huge creature I couldn't identify! It was a bug, but a HUGE one. Something like a silverfish crossed with a centipede mated with a prehistoric, well, dinosaur bug. Being the girl I am, I screamed and tried to soap it to death. Not deterred by my suds, I squirted Purell in its general direction. That slowed him down a bit, giving me time to dash to the bathroom and grab the hairspray. I cornered him (significantly hampered by the antibacterial blast) and hairsprayed him to the counter. He was gross. He had antennae and beady eyes. And, like, a horn. Yeah, a horn. The fodder of nightmares!

Of course, I didn't have any actual bug killer on hand, so after the hairspray dried and preserved my intruder for eternity, I whisked him off down the drain...and then ran the disposal...for 5 whole minutes.

I felt quite accomplished, that I killed The Bug all by myself. However, I don't think ladies should have to ever kill bugs. That's why we get married, right? It was precisely at this "buggy" moment that I severely missed Jack and his bug-killing capacities. He always kills the bugs at home (unless it's a big, furry bee, then he's shrieking alongside me). Don't even get me started about the one mouse who got in our house. Mickey got his foot caught in the trap and banged himself up against the cupboard door for a half hour before he finally met his Maker. Jack took care of that situation and I wish he was here to protect me from All Other Bugs. Because now, each time I see anything move or a piece of lint catches my eye, I'm convinced The Bug is back from the beyond.

At Laaaaast!

As promised, here is an update on our latest venture into Chi-town. We found me a home! It's a rental, but it's an actual house with windows, a yard, a driveway, and a deck. I'm thrilled about having the deck and plan to lug my chaise lounger to Wrigleyville. Truth be told, I wasn't looking forward to apartment living and the house will afford me a lot more space and privacy.

The home is also close to a high school. The close proximity to the school is exciting for two reasons: one, I love "Friday night lights" and hope I can catch a football game. Two, they have a stellar running track within two blocks' walking distance. I wondered what I was going to do about my exercise habit. Walking the hospital corridors, in heels, hardly counts as cardio!

Before we left Chicagoland, Jack and I hopped back on the Skyway to try out my commute. In 5pm traffic on a Friday, the commute was still only 20 minutes. While the highway commute (and associated bumper-to-bumper traffic at 80 mph) will take some adjustment, it was an easy drive.

I'm extremely relieved to have this piece of the puzzle decided. On the way home, I experienced an eerie calm, stronger than if I had just left church. I'm not one to rely on "feelings" to ascertain my fate, but I cannot deny this calmness and peace. And now I know I will not be living in my toyota in the hospital's parking garage!