Are We There Yet?

So, when I'm floating out in the middle of this swimming pool 10 days from now, no spiders can get to me there, right?

And the Spider Drama Continues...

Today, I received this email as a follow up to the meeting we had yesterday:

All:

Thanks to everyone who attended the lunch and informational meeting
yesterday.

On Friday afternoon, XXXXX Pest Control will be back in to do the
two-week follow-up pesticide treatment for the offices. He will
begin spraying at 2:30pm when the office closes in support of summer
hours. Please be aware that any work in the offices within 24 hours
of spraying should be avoided.

Thank you.


Now, let me tell you a little bit about yesterday's meeting. Here's what I learned:

• Brown recluse spiders are nocturnal, so the fact that we have them roaming around in the daylight is bad.
• We need to wear closed shoes for a few weeks until the infestation "calms down".
• We have "hundreds" of spiders living in our workplace.
  
• After the first spraying, they were coming out in "unexpected" areas on peoples' desks (like out of books and folders--not the norm, they are usually more reclusive).
• Once a female brown recluse has been impregnated, it can reproduce forever.
• They can survive for weeks without food or water and can live for years.
• Every single wall of our workplace had spiders in it.
• The pest control person who treated our place (who is African American) said that when he went home he told his wife, "Those people better get some socks and shoes on their pretty little white feet!"
• They are providing us with an "anti venom" kit that we should use within 6 - 12 hours of being bitten.
• Brown recluse bites can cause dead tissue, partial paralysis and even death.
• They are providing us with long gloves to use in case we have to go dig in our storage area (it will be a cold day in hell before I'm digging in our storage area ever again).
  

During the meeting, my hands were shaking and my heart was pounding. Of course, there were handouts with pictures as well.

Just add this to the list of reasons why I hate 2008. I wonder if I should get a T-shirt made.

Not Your Typical Company Meeting

I received this email at work:


Mark Your Calendar for an All Company Meeting

All Company Meeting: Next Tuesday, July 29, at 12:00pm.

The owners of (insert name here) Pest Control will be providing an educational program to help sort out the facts and the myths of brown recluse spiders. More information to come.

Lunch and desserts will be provided.

RSVP if you have a schedule conflict, otherwise we will count on you for lunch.


Now, some might call me crazy, but somehow I don't think I'm going to have an interest in eating lunch and/or dessert after discussing the facts and myths of brown recluse spiders. Just a hunch.

Punched By My Email Address Book

Today at work, I began typing an email to someone outside my company.  Her name was "Suzi".  I began to type her name into my email and my address book starting coming up with names that were close in spelling as I typed in "S...U... Z...".

...then, it felt like I got punched in the stomach.

The email address came up for my friend, Suzanne, who died in February while giving birth to her first child--her daughter, Matilda.

Aw, Suzanne, I wonder if you know how much you are still missed.  I wish I could email you.

Another Day, Another Bite

I was greeted today with the news that yet another employee at my job was bitten by a spider.

I now have an air tight container to contain my purse and bag during the day and I refuse to work with my feet on the floor, so I sit with them both propped up on a chair under my desk.

My husband is out of town and tonight is trash night.  I forgot about it until the sun went down and then I went outside to move the trash can to the curb.  As I walked up to the trash can, I noticed in the reflection of the garage light, a long string of a spider web connecting the trash can to a nearby tree. 

I literally wanted to just sit down in the middle of the driveway and cry.  I felt so defeated.

After about 15 minutes of pulling and kicking at the trash can and then finally getting it down to the curb, I wondered, "Is anyone else having a day that makes them think about spiders 8,495 times, like I am?"

I NEED A VACATION.

More Spider Drama

Upon arrival at work today, I have learned that one of my co-workers was bitten by a spider on Friday afternoon and had to be hospitalized overnight for observation!

Seriously, people. This is not helping my phobia.

Is it worse to wear a skirt and feel like things are crawling on you or wear pants and when you think you feel things crawling on you, not be able to tell for sure?

I HATE SPIDERS.

Well, I Used to Like My Job...

I think you probably already know how I feel about spiders just by the title of this blog.

For those of you who are not clear on the subject, allow me to be: I hate them with a passion. I have nightmares about them. I really, really, really don't like anything about them. This is not an exaggeration.

Today, we are having people come to spray at our workplace because we are infested (infested, mind you) with brown recluse spiders. Poisonous, brown recluse spiders. Infested.

You can imagine my joy at this news.

It will take multiple treatments to get rid of them. Today is the first of many treatments.

Over the weekend, I plan to find an air tight container in which to store my purse and messenger bag so that I will not be transporting any of these things to my own house.

I am kind of pissed that we are even expected to be here while we have an infestation of poisonous spiders.

I keep feeling like things are crawling on me.

Yesterday, for the first time in the history of my professional career, I found myself blinking back tears at my desk after someone had found one, captured it, and decided to bring it around and show people so we could "know one when we saw one". I really had to struggle to keep control. My palms were sweating and my hands were shaking. This is just ridiculous.

Can I sue for psychological pain and suffering?

Uncharted Territory

Okay, I've gone and done it.

I decided, that for my upcoming tropical trip to Jamaica, I want to wear a bikini for the first time in my life. That's right--first time ever. EVER. So I purchased one. It is almost identical to the one shown above except it is a gorgeous shade of kelly green.

Now, for a few disclaimers:

1 - Bikini will not be worn in the light of day--it will only be worn after dark for night swimming, night hot tub soaking and night lounge chair lounging.

2 - Bikini will only be worn in a foreign country where there is no chance of seeing anyone I know.

3 - Bikini will be covered with a cover up when walking from room to destination and back again.

4 - Bikini will only be viewed by husband and total strangers who I will never see again.

Why, one might ask, would one do this to themselves--especially at age 37? If I didn't wear one 20 years ago, why on earth would I start now? And here is my answer:

I am 37. I do not have a perfect body. However, I don't know how many more opportunities I am going to have to lounge on tropical beaches in my lifetime and I'm definitely not going to be doing this at my neighborhood pool. So, I've read all the articles about swimsuits and the "less is more" theory that with an adjustable, string bikini, you don't have anything pushing you or squeezing you anywhere. So, I went and tried one on--for the first time. Ever. (Seriously, I've never even had the nerve to take one to the dressing room before.)

I have to tell you, it was a little frightening. First, I was almost afraid to look. Then, after a little adjustment of the string ties here and there, I started to look carefully at it. The green looked great with my tan skin and dark hair. There was good butt coverage. I looked happy. Free. Tropical. It wasn't nearly as bad as I was expecting it to be and I kind of liked it. So, I made the purchase and brought it home.

I thought I had better look and see how it looked at home (you know, different mirrors, different lighting--they might have been trying to trick me at the store). So, I put it on again. And it wasn't half bad. I was surprised by how much I liked it. My dogs even gave me approving looks.

So, my itsy bitsy teeny weenie green bikini is now hanging in our bedroom. I'm hanging it there as a reminder. A reminder that our vacation is coming. A reminder to keep hitting the gym. A reminder to watch the calories. A reminder to cut out the carbs for the two or three weeks prior to my trip. (But even if I had to leave tomorrow, I would still wear it.)

Most of all, it is a reminder of how far I have come.

I've survived a torn up knee and surgery. I've survived weeks upon weeks of physical therapy. I've even gone back to the gym even when no one is forcing me to. I'm happy that my body getting strong again. I'm happy that it's functional again. Hell, in comparison, wearing a bikini now seems trivial. Why not wear a bikini?

So me and my body, imperfections, curves and all, are going to do it. We are going to wear a bikini in public for the first time ever.

...and I'll be able to cross off one more scary item from that list of things to do before I die. Wish me luck...

I Had a Dream...

1. I had a dream last night that my Mom died.

2. It made me so sad to wake up and think that I would never talk to her again.

3. I was wrong. It was just a dream.

4. I called her tonight and when I talked to her, I think I appreciated that conversation more than any conversation we'd ever had.

5. Strange how a dream that occurs while you sleep can sometimes be the thing that actually "wakes you up".

Life's Too Short

I saw an article this past week about a guy who worked for Toyota who actually worked himself to death. I think he was racking up some 80 (yes, 80) hours of overtime per month and he ended up dying as a result of it.

Things have been busy. It has been almost a month since I last blogged. Work and life have been an unstoppable force. You realize that almost an entire week can pass that consists of work and phone calls and emails and chores--when you finally realize you need to schedule a date with your spouse just so can have a moment to breathe--a moment where you can you actually talk about more than just adding something to the grocery list.

We've been exhausted and I had been fighting a head cold for most of the week. Not exactly working myself to the point of death, but I can tell this pace has been taking a toll on me.

Even though my husband had to leave today to travel for work, we tried to take some time to slow down yesterday. We lounged by the pool (he actually fell asleep in a lounge chair and I had some time to pour over the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly while soaking up some sun), we walked the dogs and enjoyed a nice dinner together. He even helped me touch up my roots so my grays would be temporarily camouflaged. (My husband is truly a keeper.) Sounds silly, but even the "covering of the grays" slowed us down a little and gave us time to hang out before his employer had to steal him away again.

Until he returns, I am trying to continue taking some time for me. I can't remember the last time that I've done this for any extended period of time. So, today, I had my nails done and got a pedicure. I hit the elliptical machines at the gym. I picked up a healthy salad for dinner and ate it in front of the television while watching a movie that was based on a book that I read (that has been on our Tivo for weeks). It felt really good.

Tomorrow, I'm finally going to watch the last two episodes of Grey's Anatomy from this past season (yes, I'm that far behind on my TV viewing). I'm going to go to church, do some shopping, hit the gym again and hopefully, get a little extra sleep. I might even squeeze in a Sudoku puzzle (and might not even check my email!).

The weekend will go by too fast--there's no way to help that. However, I'm hoping that when Monday gets here, with a little effort, it won't feel like the weekend didn't exist at all.

Right now, I'm going to take bubble bath (and admire my freshly painted toes), make myself a cup of tea and curl up with a book while listening to the rumblings of the thunderstorms outside. I'm not going to think about work and I'm going to try to get a little rest. Not what everyone might strive for in a Saturday night, but I'm feeling pretty content.

Sometimes, I think we get in such a routine of going 100 mph, that we forget to force ourselves to slow down. Now granted, I'm not working 80 hours of overtime per month like that guy from Toyota, but I am guilty of staying late and skipping lunch trying to do more than I really need to do. I sometimes do just take it all too seriously. (Hence, the scratchy throat and stuffy nose.)

If nothing else, at least I hope to go back to work on Monday with some prettier feet, with a few more burnt calories under my belt, with fewer gray hairs showing and feeling a lot more rested. Hopefully, I'll have the strength to take on a whole new week.

While I'm thankful for a job that I enjoy and that I'm good at, life is too short to make it all about jobs and chores and lists and schedules and calendars and emails and...I have to go. I have a bubble bath and a good book waiting on me...