Little Bit of This, Little Bit of That

I say it every time, but it's true every time: it's been AGES since I last posted.

So much has happened, though looking back at it, it seems like piddly stuff.

Also, I forgot how to code a cut, so I apologize in advance for the length.

Boychild: IS EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD. Seriously, where the eff does the time go?! He VOTED in November. (Not for the JOKE currently in office, TYVM. Kid is a hard-ass lefty. Why, yes - I AM proud of it.)

He also has been on meds since about September of 2015; he definitely hits the ADHD scale, though noticeably without the H. Doc's got him on 20 mgs of Adderall a day, with 5 mg supplements as needed after school for homework. It has definitely helped to start, though he may actually need to up it a little, as we are still having to drag him through getting homework turned in and remembering things.

Hubby: Had a vertical sleeve gastrectomy in March 2015. He's since lost about 200 lbs, can buy clothes at regular stores now, and no longer hits the diabetic scale. He was off all diabetic meds within a couple months of the surgery. He is basically the poster boy for "Doing This Right;" I've never seen a surgeon bounce on his toes with pleasure before.

He's hit a plateau now, and has fallen off the diet changes a little, but is getting back on track now with this unseasonably nice weather. It's been a total life change for him, and he's really happy about all of it.

Me & Food: As part of the process (and in the name of being supportive), I started watching my diet, too. I hated every effing second of it and it didn't matter that I continued to lose weight, it took all the effing joy out of food and I hated everyone and everything. We bond over food, come together as a society over food, and having to watch it carefully like that - and deny myself of everything I love because everything that tastes good to me is "bad" - is the absolute worst. And it was harder, too, because Hubby was having the easiest time of it, and couldn't understand how it could possibly be difficult. I stayed silent about a lot of my anger over it.

I had actually started losing weight the previous August (2014); suffice it to say I had a week where Imodium was not working, so I just had to suffer through it. I must have lost ten to fifteen pounds that week alone, and so I continued to lay off the soda so much and stopped eating the snack cakes and stuff entirely. So when hubby started his pre-op diet, I started actually using the My Fitness Pal app every day, and it mostly sucked. I was almost always hungry, meals generally did not last me till the next one. I had enough calories available to me that I could have snacks, but I really had to watch it. I'd switched to diet sodas, which sucks because they all taste terrible, but I want soda more than I want to avoid the taste, and regular soda has too many calories, so-.

Since then, I've lost a total of about 80 lbs, give or take 5, and gone down 6 pants sizes and 3 shirt sizes (depending on the brand). Other noticeable changes are that I can sit in a chair with arms and the arms no longer dig into my thighs, and all my rings are too big, as they keep sliding around my fingers willy-nilly.

I don't religiously record my calories each day, and I stopped denying myself of all the things I love, because I've always said that's no way to diet. I do try to be very reasonable about how much I eat, and I try to avoid too much bread, because it's a freaking killer (even though it's OMGSODELICIOUS). I may not be actively losing weight now, but I'm also not gaining it back, so I'm much happier. We try to walk more, too.

Work: Never dull. I've done so much since my last work-related post. We've lost two supervisors, a manager, another supervisor, and plenty of people have retired because they just couldn't deal with the stress anymore. Another one is leaving in the next 45 days or so. It's sad, but maybe it will help mgmt (wishful thinking, right?) to reorganize the way they want. Some things are better, others are as bad as usual. But hey, I've got 18 years under my belt now, and am currently only minorly stressed, so I'll stick with it.

Also, I now work from home full time. It's AWESOME. They provided us zero clients, two monitors, keyboard, mouse, all necessary wires, a really decent phone with a headset, and anything off our desks we needed; I came home with well over $1.5K worth of equipment. We have flex time on top of this, so as long as I get my 40 hours in M-F between 6A and 6P, I can do it almost any way I like. This, of course, means I roll out of bed around 5:45 in the morning, lurch into the bathroom, pull on pants and shirt, then stumble to my desk, turn on the computer, and clock in by 6:00 AM. It is the BEST THING EVER.

I might not have gone home full time, though, without my two best friends leaving. One (CK) quit September 2014...about 3 hours after I unwittingly provided the clinching argument for it. He is SO. MUCH. HAPPIER. now; it is amazing how relaxed he is now without this place eating holes in his stomach lining, among other things. We try to get out for lunch or dinner (and in one case, breakfast) every other month or so, and chat via FB messenger quite a bit - which is good, because it took me a long time to get used to not having him there at work.

And in November 2015, the other (MG) quit. Also a good thing, she was much happier at a new place - understandably, as my current coworkers, by and large, were absolute DICKS to her the entire time she was employed. An old supervisor (who, incidentally, was fired for having sex on her desk and bragging about it, and also for calling someone in mgmt a "bitch" in an email that replied to all instead of one person) had actually known MG, and told everybody so, and so most people assumed MG only got the job because she knew said supervisor...and everyone hated that supervisor, to be clear. It was awful. So MG finally left, but now I can't even see her like I used to because she moved out of state in December 2016. So sad.

Other Stuff: Dad had a heart attack Thanksgiving night, but is doing okay now; it wasn't massive, and the blockages, which range anywhere from 30-80%, are all down in the smaller vessels at the bottom of the heart, where they can't put stents anyway, so they're treating medically. He's doing taxes again for H&R Block, managing only one office this year instead of two. And thrilled as hell, because he and Mom turn 62 this year and are taking early Social Security, so he won't have to work at all next year.

Mom's doing well; good days and bad days with fibro and diabetes. She had a month-long bout with seizures in August 2013, but hasn't had any since then, and is now off the seizure med entirely. She's mostly back to baseline (by which I mean she feels as good as she did before the seizures, but has less of a filter). The seizures at the time seemed to have caused a metric shit-ton of brain damage, but she gained all of her faculties back for the most part.

One of my sisters is pregnant with her fourth child, another had her second a few years ago. Yet another is happily living with her boyfriend. And the other one is still living with our parents.

TV: Missing DWTS right about now, but loving BBT still, as well as Flash, Mom, Two Broke Girls, and Brooklyn 9-9. Also really enjoying The Grand Tour on Amazon. Have also finally started watching bits and pieces of HIMYM with Boychild. Pretty good.

Man, I forgot how time can fly when you're typing up a post like this!

I hope everything is well with all of you! ♥

Lately in our household, we've been considering - very seriously - the idea of joining the YMCA. And too, actually going there a few times a week to walk, use the weights, swim, whatever.

This is insane.

I hate exercise with the burning passion of a billion effulgent suns. Every single fiber of my being is screaming bloody murder at the top of its (huh, that feels like the wrong identifier) lungs. Motherfucker, I just want to lie down and READ. I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in getting up and moving.

But somehow, this errant common sense and completely ridiculous and misplaced desire to "get in better shape" (you know, besides round) is winning out, and I am conflicted HATE it. And even being absolutely livid about it isn't stopping me from probably doing it.

I can only assume this means that I have officially gained "adult" status and really am as old as Boychild believes I am. Otherwise, there is something very wrong with me AND I WANT IT TO STOP NOW, PLSKTHX.

I never, ever thought I'd say this, but getting older sucks.

Or maybe it's not the getting older part, but the realizing it that sucks. I am not amused.