I got over the cold from my last post -- in record time for me, in fact! -- and then on my way to work I stopped at my dad's work. I was still angry with him, and I stormed out of his office and directly into a steel beam. My first concussion!

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I knew that working two jobs, especially the kind of hours and the kind of conditions in a haunted house, was going to wear me down. So I started drinking extra water, eating more produce, getting as much sleep as I could. I really tried to take care of myself.

And I got sick anyway. Godfreakingdammit.

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This is a Sponsored Post written by me on behalf of NMEDA. All opinions are 100% mine.

I hope this doesn't come across as insensitive, but I've always wondered where people with disabilities get cars they drive with hand pedals, etc. I've never seen a dealership for them, or advertisements for them. And I didn't know about NMEDA, a non-profit organization that promotes safer transportation for the disabled. They don't sell anything themselves; instead they certify dealers to offer safe vehicles that meet National Highway Traffic Safety Administration Guidelines. Additionally, their Quality Assurance program is THE nationally recognized accreditation program for the Adaptive Mobility Equipment Industry.

I've never been a caregiver for someone with a disability, but my mom works as a CNA, so I've heard her talk about some of the difficulties, especially regarding transportation. I know she's cared for a lot of elderly people who had lost their independence because they had no transportation; it's nice to know there's an organization like NMEDA who can help people in those situations. It's especially nice because I know there are plenty of unscrupulous people who would sell vehicles personally or over the Internet, and those vehicles may not be 100% safe. It's difficult enough to judge if an average vehicle is safe, or if you're being ripped off; I can only image how difficult it would be to try to discern if an adapted vehicle is safe or not.

Visit my sponsor: NMEDA

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I'm getting more and more angry with him. Not about the fact that he won't help me with my trip -- I told him I could do it without financial help, and I can. But I'm pissed off that he's trying to control me! He started out by asking if I was sure I wanted to do this with the "terrorist activity" in Europe; when I said yes he interrogated me about why, and said I shouldn't go alone and that I would be a target. Because apparently anyone walking down the street in London would know and/or care I'm American?

And then when I told him it was what I wanted to do, he said "Then you are as stupid as I thought. Goodbye." Then the next time he started berating me about being irresponsible, and asking why I didn't save the money and be ahead for once.

So basically, he tried to logic me out of it, then he tried to scare me; then to undermine me and convince me I'm too stupid to handle it; and then he moved on to trying to use money as leverage. Wonder what he'll try next.

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This is a Sponsored Post written by me on behalf of Geile Leon. All opinions are 100% mine.

When my father was berating me about my trip to England, he started listing all sorts of places closer by that I haven't been to, and asked why I didn't go there instead. He doesn't know the trip is centered around a certain band -- he'd be even more pissed! I just shrugged and said I'd never really been interested in anywhere near home.

Although I do have to admit it's slightly tempting to take a more luxurious vacation somewhere close by. I could go a couple of states away and for around $300 spend two nights at the Hilton Promenade at Branson Landing or Hilton Branson Convention Center Hotel. They have this "Fall In The City" package that includes show tickets, dinner, attractions, etc. Or there's a shopping package, and they do have the Tanger Outlet Mall there, and god knows I love to shop. I could run away to Missouri for a few days and spend all my spare cash, not worrying about pinching pennies or train fares or how to pay rent when I got back. I could go to lakes and theaters and museums and still be in my little American comfort zone.

Too bad I already have a plane ticket. And a couple of concert tickets. And an obsession. Oh, who am I kidding, I wouldn't take Branson over England. But it does look like a fun place if you don't have an obsession with Morten Harket.



Visit my sponsor: Enjoy an exhilarating weekend getaway in Branson!

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One of our managers at the restaurant was killed in a car wreck last week. I didn't know him well; he was new, and I'd only worked with him a handful of times. Once the initial shock passed, I wasn't very upset, until I read in the newspaper that the cops suspected alcohol was involved.


That reminded me of all the times I worried about my dad drinking and driving, as he did consistently when I was a kid. I thought about all the times that I would be huddled in bed, waiting for him to come home, wondering if he was just late or if he had had an accident. I was already feeling emotional that day because of other things, so it really was bothering me.

I had to stop to see him on my way to my evening job, and all I wanted to do was give him a hug and tell him that I love him. But before I could do that, he jumped my ass about my trip to England and started berating me about how dangerous and stupid and irresponsible it was, and that he wasn't giving me any money for my trip. Then he dismissed me without even saying goodbye. I started sobbing, and he thought I was trying to butter him up about it; when I told him what I was actually upset about ... he continued to be an ass! Basically he said people die, there was no reason to be upset, I hardly knew this person, I was being foolish, he doesn't drink and drive anymore so why was I upset. I tried to hug him and he just stood there, hands on his sides, elbows sticking out, and looked at me.

I cried the hour and a half to my job; then some more after I got there; then some more on the way home. A week later and I'm still so angry at him! 

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