It’s Valentine’s Day. Again!

It all starts when you’re a kid. You bring a shoebox to school and make a Valentine Mail Box.  Your shoebox gets wrapped up in fancy paper and decorated the way you like. Then you make a slit in the very top so valentines can be “mailed” to you. Your mom buys you a package of 30 valentines and you spend hours at the kitchen table addressing them to the kids in your class. Even kids you don’t like will get a valentine from you (and you from them).

On the big day I could not wait to run home and open my valentines. Hoping that John or Roy or some boy wrote me a special note inside their valentine to me. Never happened. Not even once.

Why have I not learned from this? Each year I revert back to that little girl surrounded by torn open valentines, and heartbroken. I know it will happen again this year – just like last year and the 45 years before that. Tonight is Feb. 13th and I am feeling  sad in advance. I know that is ridiculous, but it’s who I am.

Deep down in my soul, where reality is overruled by feeling, there is a glimmer of  hope. No amount of  pessimism, intelligence or giving myself a good talking to, can sway it.  The  “just maybe” part of me keeps longing for a passionate, romantic outpouring of adoration from the man I love. On Valentine’s Day.

I get the fact that Valentine’s Day means nothing to 99% of the male population. So??  It does mean something extremely important to your woman. Some effort on your part for one freaking day of the year, is all we’re asking. Don’t give us that crap about “I didn’t know what to get you”. Have you ever seen a movie that had a leading man and woman in it? Do you watch television?

Valentine’s Day is not like President’s Day. It is on the same damn day every year. February 14th.  Shame on you for pretending you did not know when Valentine’s Day was. You know who you are.

Here’s some free advice:  On the list of things we would like to get from our men on Valentine’s Day,  “Nothing”  is not one of them.

Spiney Ball Things

We do not have a Liquid Amber tree in our yard, but the neighbors do. These trees deposit horrid little Spiney Ball Things, every season, all year round.

SpineyBall(1)

Spiney Ball Thing

Our yard is full of them. I imagine if tree-less residents can collect many buckets of the damn things, that those who own the actual Spiny Ball producing trees must use them for firewood. Or, perhaps something profitable. Why else would you not chop the #$%&*@! things down??

Our pool vacuum stops working because Spiney Ball Things clog the intake Continue reading “Spiney Ball Things”

Not armed, but still dangerous

To myself that is.

This afternoon I began tripping over my own feet (really easy to do when wearing my Shape-ups). I am also smacking into door frames as I enter doorways. I am like this occasionally when my blood sugar is high, or I am in a big hurry.

Since I am not in any hurry, I should do a test and see if I need insulin. Sigh….  Being diabetic means your body runs your life. Adjustments to plans & schedules are not determined by anything I want or decide. My blood glucose level is the boss of me.

And yes, confirmed with a test, my blood sugar (or BS, for short) is high. I know why it is high – I actually ate when I was hungry.  Shame on me.

All the finger pricking is a pain in the ass, and I don’t care what the pharmaceutical companies proclaim – it hurts no matter what device they sell you. So… I probably needed some fast-acting insulin when I ate a couple of hours ago. Since dinner is in an hour, and my BS is almost 300 I take action. BS over 250 must be dealt with 2 units of insulin. And every 50 point intervals after that get an extra unit. So I do the math and conclude that 3 units gets loaded into the syringe and I “shoot up”.

My snack was a handful of crackers and a piece of cheese, so my BS must have been high to start with. I would have known this if I just pricked my finger and bled on a stick, but not me – I was hungry and I just ate something. I should (and do) know better.

I do not have to eat to raise my BS either. I could be coming down with a little cold and it goes up. I could be stressed out (when am I not???) and it goes up. My hormone levels disturb it, as much as they do my husband. Business meetings & travel really jack up the BS numbers.

So I must warn you:  Don’t piss me off,  because I could go into a coma…..