To Live My Life As It's Meant To Be

A few pretty significant events happened this week.

First: Mom & Dad pushed the button. They have been getting everything ready to serve a mission, and all of the applications and forms are online.  I guess it takes a while to get it all done, and when you are ready, you push the button.  {Back in the 'good ole' days, when I served a mission, you "put in your papers" and received a large white envelope a few weeks later.}  They did it.  So they might be receiving a mission call soon!  I think the white envelope is still the method of delivery, even if the paperwork is outdated.  #feelingold  #ihatehashtags  #prettysurehashtagshavenopoweroutsideoftwitter  #isitreallythathardtousepunctuation?

Mom & Dad in Layton

Second: Dave & Lexy moved to Phoenix.  I know, right!?  When Dave sent out the e-mail a few weeks ago to tell us they were moving, I cried.  Most of the day was spent in tears . . . and it was enough to make me start taking my medications again.  Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for them and excited for their new adventures.  I can't wait to see their new home, complete with a swimming pool!

Moving Trucks :o(

Anyway, I drove up to Layton to see them off.  I was going to send Benji to school, but he has a cold and cough {which I so graciously bestowed upon him}.  I'll try to send him to school next week, though they will probably send him home.  This whole situation is driving me batty!  I have had to call in sick and Allen has had to come home early from work more than once to be with him since he can't be in school.  It has been almost two weeks, and there isn't a lot of school year left to be had.  Grrr.  Oh, back to the point--I had Benji with me, and Nanny & Papa drove down to so see them too.  On their way down from Logan, they picked up Pablo {Lexy's mom's boyfriend}, who is driving one of the trucks to Phoenix.  After they finished loading up the trucks, I left.  I didn't want them to see me cry.  It was really sad; we all love the Layton house, and now there will be strangers living in it.  Dave & Lex are planning on coming back, so they are renting out the house, and renting themselves in Phoenix.  Still, it's sad.  I miss them.  A LOT.

Dave, Lexy & Phoebe after the Savior of the World Performance

Also--they bought a minivan.  Yeah, there's a stigma, but they are handy and convenient and much more gas-friendly than the Suburban they have had for a while.  I'd rather not drive a minivan, but my cute car gets such horrible gas mileage that I'm about ready to trade him in.  I really like my car, and for having 98,000 miles he still looks really good; I just hate shelling out so much money at the pump.

Mom & Dad went to SLC after they left Layton, and I met up with them at Rachael's house.  We hung out for a while, but Mach is SO busy with her jobs and her calling and her piano playing--she is accompanying Lily's school program and has to be at rehearsals at least once per week.  It was nice to see her for a little while, but I had to leave to get ready for a LASIK follow-up appointment {still @ 20/20!  It's so lovely!} and an information meeting at the University of Utah I had that evening.

Third: I had a revelation.  Okay, it was not exactly a revelation as much as it was a "lightbulb" moment.

I wasn't expecting it, but the realization just came to me during this information session:

I know what I want to be when I grow up.

I have been thinking about this for a long time, but there were a lot of things going on and I wasn't sure I wanted to commit to anything as big as Graduate School and I feel guilty constantly about not spending enough time with Benji.  Well, during this information session, I had a few realizations.

A)  I'm not a great mom, in fact--I would be a crappy stay-at-home mom.  With Benji being home sick for the past couple of weeks, I realized just how hard it is.  Please don't get me wrong--I love Benji with all my heart--but he is not an easy child.  I get very impatient with him.  For example, getting him to put on his pants takes at least 20 minutes and a thousand reminders and "try-agains" to remind him of what he's doing, and to help him get it right.  After several of these sessions {i.e., every time he goes to the bathroom} and requiring his third shower of the day, I was so frustrated that I spanked him.  I felt so guilty about it and apologized and tried to give him extra loves and cuddles, but it doesn't change the fact that I hit my child.  I hope he has forgotten, but I never will.  Anyway, I realized that I am much more loving and kind to Benji when I don't see him as often.  He is much easier to love in small doses.  My realization was that I'm never going to be a good stay-at-home mom.  I'm just not.

B)  I have wanted to go back to school for a while, but I wasn't sure in what subject.  I like to do a lot of things, but I feel like you need to be passionate about what you study, if you are going to dedicate so much time and effort to it.  The only thing that has kept my attention for a long time is health care, and my education/career is at a crossroads.  I have been here for a while, learning and working, etc., but I haven't moved on.  It has been good, and I'm grateful for the experience, but I see so many people around me moving on with their lives, that I have felt the push too.  Being a surgical tech is great, but I don't want to do it forever.  There are some techs I work with who have literally been scrubbing longer than I have been alive {and I'm no spring chicken!}.  They are excellent at what they do, but most of them are tired and jaded and I don't want to end up like that.   So, the way I see it, I could take one of two paths: the Nursing Route, or the Physician's Assistant {P.A.} route.

As for nursing: I work with nurses every day; I have a great respect for them and I enjoy working with them.  I think I could be a good nurse, if I wanted to go down that road.  Here are the problems with nursing education as I see it: it's either good and {usually} expensive, or mediocre and cheap.  There are several nursing schools around the Salt Lake Valley, and I have friends who have gone to many of them.  The ones that are easy to get into are expensive.  Unbelievably expensive, especially for an associate's degree.  Salt Lake Community College {or SLCC, pronounced "SLICK"} is cheap, but incredibly competitive.  They have a waiting list of more than a year, and one can't even get on the list until all of the prerequisites are complete.  There was a partnership between the company I work for {Intermountain Healthcare} and SLCC, where IHC would pay for 100% of tuition and books in return for working full-time for two years after graduation.  That's an amazing opportunity, but they are dissolving this partnership because there are so many other nursing programs out there and the market is fairly saturated.  Many of my friends who have graduated have had difficulty finding jobs.  That's got to be really frustrating for people who have just spent a small fortune on schooling.  Also, my friends who graduated from the SLCC program do not recommend it to others.  It's not great.  Plus, I know I wouldn't be satisfied with being an RN; I'd want to go on and get a Master's and possibly an N.P., which would mean at least six more years of schooling.  So, this route is full of rocks and hard places.

As for the P.A. route: I have been talking about it for a long time.  Ever since I started working with PAs in surgery, talking to them and realizing what they do, I have had it in the back of my mind that I'd like to do it someday.  I have visited the UPAP {Utah Physican Assistant Program} website several times, and looking at the prerequisites and such, I have thought that it would be easier for me to get into PA school than into nursing school.  For example, most nursing programs require nutrition and statistics to get it.  I never took those classes, but I have taken calculus and Biochemistry {for heaven's sake, I have a Chemistry minor!}.  So what are the University of Utah's requirements?

• Bachelor's Degree, as this is a Master's degree program {I received my BA in Biology in 2007}
• Required Courses: Human Anatomy and Physiology {check and check}, four credits in Biology {one tends to get a few more than that, having a major in Biology} and eight credits in Chemistry {one gets more than that with a Chemistry minor}
• GPA higher than 2.7 {3.15 is nothing to brag about, but it meets the requirement!}
• Healthcare experience > 2000 hours, or about one year full-time {um, I have been working for Intermountain Healthcare for 11 years, plus working at the University Hospital before my mission would easily give me more than 20,000 hours}.

The lightbulb came on when I realized that my whole life has been preparing me for this.  I may not be the best candidate, but I would certainly not be the worst.  I think there's a real possibility of my getting in, and this is something I think I would be good at and enjoy--a rare and precious combination.  It isn't medical school, but it is a medicinal-type of education, and it is probably the best I could hope for at this stage in my life.

I came home and spoke with Allen about it.  I told him I was tired of nagging him to go to school, and that one of us needed to do something to move us beyond this point.  We talked about cost and commitment {and how he'll basically be a single dad for the entire time I am in school, and how he will still be responsible to pay all of the bills since I won't be able to work at the same time}.  He came up with plenty of valid excuses and reasons not to, including that "we'll be taxed to death" once I'm gainfully employed, but--what it comes down to--he will support me if I get in.  And with Benji being Benji, I couldn't do it by myself.  

So that's where we are.  I'm going to start the application process {it's a big one, with exams and essays and multiple rounds of interviews}, in hopes of admission to the program starting in 2014.  And we'll see.  I feel like this is the right direction, and for the first time in a long while, I'm excited for the future.  I hope you'll stick with me on this crazy ride.

The Truth About Love

I have been wanting to write . . . I'm so frustrated that I haven't had time!  Benji's party just took over my life, and now that it's over, I need to get Allen's party rolling.  Um, it's in less than a week, and I don't have anything beyond a theme and some fuzzy ideas.  I got some pictures printed for the invitations, but I don't love the way they turned out.  Last week, one of my friends here at work, Paul, asked me how things were going, and I said I was in "Party Planning Hell."  He said, "Well, of all the circles of Hell to be in, that one doesn't sound too bad."  This is true; I'm just totally burned out.

I didn't take many pictures of Benji's birthday party; I was busy trying to put everything together at the last minute.  Since I'm at work tonight, and it's currently 3:49am, I'll share the ones I got later.  Instead, I want to write a little bit about Valentine's Day.

Actually, let me back up.  I want to write a little bit about Jane Austen.  "Pride and Prejudice" was published 200 years ago, which is giving many fans an excuse to re-read her wonderful novels.  I think I have read them all {she only had six published novels}.  I have been meaning to read them again, and I probably will this year.  I have always wanted to be the Elizabeth Bennet character {who wouldn't?  Smart, sassy, self-righteous, pretty, and she marries Mr. Darcy in the end!}, but I have recently come to a different conclusion.

I am Charlotte Lucas.

Of all the characters in P&P, I think I am most like Charlotte.  She is quite plain and practical, and she comes from a good family.  She agrees to marry Mr. Collins after not knowing him for very long {um, overnight?}, and ends up living a quiet, comfortable life in a parsonage.

I am not saying that Allen is Mr. Collins; Allen doesn't really fit into any of the characters in P&P.  It's just that the situations resemble each other.  We didn't take much time to get to know each other before we got married, and the ways we live our lives work in similar fashions.

So, back to Valentine's Day.  I used to call it "Valen-Death Day," or "Single Awareness Day {S.A.D.}."  I like what Jennifer Garner's character said in the movie "Valentine's Day," when asked by McDreamy what there is to hate about the holiday.

"Nothing, if you're a handsome, divorced doctor, but for the rest of us single women, it's kind of a giant cosmic b****slap. It's like the universe saying, look, remember when you were fourteen and you had cystic acne and braces and you played the saxophone in the marching band and no one would invite you to the winter formal? Well nothing's changed."

Yep.  I never had a boyfriend on Valentine's, and then in 2006 I had a husband.  And it was pretty sad to learn that he just didn't care.  I cannot remember his doing anything for me for Valentine's Day.  Maybe some flowers from Costco {certainly not delivered}, maybe going out to dinner.   And then, in 2008, I gave birth to my beautiful baby boy, and Valentine's became all about him.  I have hardly had time to think about it, because I'm so consumed with party planning around this time of year.

All that being said, there's always that hope: that pathetic little voice in the back of your head that hopes you will be the one who receives the ginormous bouquet at work; that someone will tell/show the world in some grand, romantic gesture how lucky they are to have you.  The Charlotte Lucas in me knows that will never happen, and while that doesn't really bother me most of the time, it does on Valentine's Day.

My sister Sarah has quit Facebook, because she would compare her relationship to others. It's true: Facebook is a place where many people brag about how great their lives are, how lucky they are, how much they love their S.O.'s, etc.  My friend Katelyn {a former coworker} is waiting for her boyfriend to come home from serving an LDS mission, and everyday she puts up a countdown and another long reason/story of why they belong together.  It's so sweet I almost get cavities just from reading.

I may have written about this analogy before, but there's also the "Johnny Lingo Effect." Johnny Lingo is a short movie produced by the LDS Church back in 1969.  It's pretty cheesy, but it's definitely part of the Mormon Culture, if you will.

{Adapted from Wikipedia} It's basically about a man who is a shrewd Polynesian trader.  Lingo has come to one island to bargain for a wife. Mahana, the young woman he desires, is considered by her neighbors and even her father to be of little value, sullen, ugly and undesirable. As the bargaining is about to begin, women of the island brag to each other of how many cows their husbands had given for each of them, and comment that Mahana's father will be lucky to see one cow as Lingo's offer. The counselor advises Mahana's father to ask for three cows so that finally, Moki (Mahana's father) will at least get one cow.

The bargaining begins and as the counselor suggested that Moki ask Johnny Lingo three cows. Since this is a public event, everyone laughs, then wait for Lingo to make his counter-offer, certain that he will make a devastating bargain.

Lingo, considering, says that three cows are many . . ."But not enough for my Mahana!" He then offers the unheard-of price of eight cows for her hand in marriage. The next day, the villagers gather at the house of Mahana's father to see the completion of the deal. Some of the islanders say that Lingo reconsidered his deal and would not show up. But Lingo brings the cows. He and Mahana then leave the island on a trading trip.

When they come back, the island storekeeper, everyone is astonished to discover that Mahana is a beautiful, happy woman. Even Mahana's father began accusing Johnny Lingo of cheating him by giving only eight cows for a girl truly worth ten cows. Johnny, her proud husband, had proved to her that her true worth had nothing to do with what others saw, but only what she truly was.

He had made the best bargain of all -- a few cows for a life with the woman that he loved.

I think the closest thing we have to this trade, this 'calculation of a woman's worth' is the size of a woman's diamond on her engagement ring.  How much is your man willing to pay for you?  How much does he think you are worth?

Me?  Nothing.  Allen has never bought me a ring.

He has purchased some jewelry for me, though I don't wear them very often {necklaces are too small and look like chokers, earrings are not my style}.  I have bought a couple of different CZ rings, which are pretty, but ever since I started scrubbing, I haven't worn them.  I'll pull them out every once in a while, but I'm very self-conscious and uncomfortable with wearing them.

Most of the time {like the rest of the year}, I don't care.  I have bought Allen a couple of different rings as well, and he doesn't wear his either.  When we decided to get married, all I wanted was to be done with the dating game.  I was tired of waiting for someone who was never going to love me back, and I didn't see any other decent prospects on the horizon.  So I took the leap without a ring.  I don't think Allen had even met my dad before we told him we were getting married, so there was certainly no bargaining or permission-asking or anything traditional like that.

I have always been a strong-minded {read: stubborn} person, and I want to do things my own way.  I wanted to get married, and I didn't care about something as silly as a ring.  Like Charlotte, I have never been a romantic; I'm far too practical.  And I'm grateful for the things I do have, which many people do not: a family, a child, a home, a car, a job, friends, a temple marriage, etc.  All in all, I'm a pretty lucky girl.

So that one day a year, when the retailers of the world want you to celebrate LOVE by spending your hard-earned money on frivolous gifts and cards and flowers, and when your husband buys LED lightbulbs instead of chocolates, it's no big deal, right?  When he takes the day off of work for no real reason, so you get dolled up thinking you'll at least go out to lunch, and instead you end up giving him gas money and he takes off to go to your child's party at school, it doesn't make that much of a difference, right?

Charlotte says it shouldn't.  But it does.

I'm So Tired of Trying

**Caution: this post is going to be negative.  If you don't want to read it, that's fine.  You were warned.

Let's start with yesterday.  It was a lovely day--beautiful weather (in the 80's), I got to spend the morning playing tourist with my dear friend and former Zone Leader Sam Aubin, who is visiting from Germany.  I learned several new things about Temple Square, we went to lunch @ The Pie near the U, and I felt like I looked pretty nice (makeup, clothing, etc.--I was actually put-together).  I went up to Benji's school afterward and had a little chat with his teachers.  He is doing very well; he understands more than I give him credit for, and they don't let him get away with things like we do.  I need to work on that, and I need to make a communication book.  There are supposed to be some cool tools like that on iPads, which he would love, but which we definitely cannot afford right now.  :o(

So I was feeling pretty good when we left school.  I decided to take Benji to a park to let him play for a little while.  I took him to the potty before we did anything.  He went #1, then he played on the structure, and although I was a little sleepy, I thought I was keeping a fairly good eye on him.  That was, until I heard some kid say, "It smells like poo."  Having heard that, I got up and went for a closer look.  Yep--he was finger painting.  I took him back to the car, stripped him down and wiped him off the best I could, then put a towel on the carseat and strapped him in.  Then I had to take some wipes back to the playground to clean up his mess.  Thankfully there wasn't too much, but I was seriously annoyed.

I took him home and put him in the shower.  Later that afternoon, he had a meltdown--inconsolable crying and kicking and thrashing, which is one thing with a two-year-old, but is something else when you have a 55+ pound, very strong four-year-old hitting you.  This went on for about 20 minutes, making me wonder if he was in pain, because he can't tell us what's going on.  Then he stopped, and he was fine.  I don't get it.  I hope you parents out there can appreciate your child being able to tell you why he or she is crying, BECAUSE IT SUCKS WHEN HE CAN'T.  You feel totally helpless.

Then, Allen told me that the loan for the house has gone through and they are signing the papers THIS Thursday instead of next Thursday.  I said, "But I have to work," and he said, "You don't have to be there."  Okay . . . I understand that my name is not on the loan, but I thought it was going to be on the house.  Am I wrong to be pissed about this?  Buying a house is kind-of a big deal, and I would like to be there.  Apparently, Allen doesn't think it's important that I am.  And to me, that's just more proof that he doesn't care.  This house would be the ONLY thing he has done (on his own) to take care of Benji and me if anything should happen to him.  He doesn't have life insurance, he doesn't have a 401K, he doesn't have a will.  I, on the other hand, do have life (and health) insurance on him, on me, and on Benji.  I shell out for it every paycheck.  I have a 401K.  There's not a ton of money there, but enough to get him by for a few months, at least.  I am trying to prepare for the future financially, and I personally paid $1,000 in earnest money as part of our down payment (my dad helped with the rest--he is such a wonderful man).  But I don't have to be there.  Yeah.

Oh--and back to last Saturday.  He got up at 4:30am to go hunting with his friend Aaron.  Last week was incredibly busy for me, and I had to volunteer @ the Hilltop sale on Saturday morning, so Benji had to go to the Lake's house.  Whatever--they are great with Benji, and he likes going there.  Allen got back in time for me to go the the Relief Society General Meeting with Lexy and Desi, but as soon as I got home, Allen went to bed (leaving the house a disaster, as usual).  So I got to put Benji to bed, then clean, then go to work at 11pm.  I worked all night, and it was a really crappy shift that felt like it would never end.  I got home around 7:30am Sunday morning, and Benji was awake in his room (having wet the bed, totally soaked) and Allen was still asleep.  So I got Benji up and put him in the shower, and Allen appeared.  I was in a really bad mood, so he asked me what was wrong.  I told him I needed to sleep, and he asked, "Why didn't you get any sleep?"  Seriously?  Yes, I stay up late sometimes (which many times includes cleaning, like 1+1/2 hours worth tonight), but I pick up extra shifts, and I get home late.  Anyway, I slept for a couple of hours, but I was woken up by a call from my Visiting Teaching Supervisor, who asked me if I had done my VT for the month.  Nope.  She told me I could probably call them that day, but I told her it wasn't going to happen.  I sure love that guilt-trip every month, reminding me of what a slacker I am.

Then we went to Logan for the afternoon on Sunday (that's another post).  Allen wanted me to drive, since he was having allergy problems because of some mosquito bites he got while he was out hunting.  Um, no.  I was utterly exhausted from working all night, so I told him he needed to drive up, and I would drive back.  That worked okay, but I know I almost fell asleep while driving.  We got home around 9:30pm on Sunday, then I had to work 12 hours on Monday.  At least Tuesday morning was nice.

Then today I had to work another 12.  I also volunteered to bring a side dish to Katie's Bridal Shower at work.  I got Benji up and took him to the bathroom, but he wouldn't go.  I waited for around 10 minutes for him to finally go, but he never did.  So I got him dressed and ready and realized we would totally miss his bus. I had to drive him up to the school, but we were too early.  So we stopped at Smith's to get the stuff for the Cranberry salad I was going to make.  Then I took him to school and came home to make the salad.  It took me a good 90 minutes to make this salad (enough to cut into my primping time, so I look really rough today), and I brought it to work with me at 11am.  When I finally got to sit down for a few minutes (around 2pm), basically no one had eaten it.  It really sucks when all of your efforts are wasted.  Then at 3pm I was put in Dr. Zempoloch's room.  She is usually very nice, but I couldn't do anything right there, either.  So I was in a less-than-talkative mood.  People kept asking me if I was okay, but seriously--can't I just have an "off" day?  Do I have to be perky all the time?  Plus, I'm feeling the guilt for not scrubbing Liver transplants.  I think they did 3 in the last week, and I was asked by several people if I do scrub them.  I did, but that was one of the major reasons why I left IMC in 2010.  I was totally burned out from taking all of the implant call and doing them all the time.  I like my job, and I don't want to become that person again by growing to resent it, but should that be priority over the hospital's needs?  I'm sure I could scrub one if I had to; I just don't want to.  And yes, that makes me feel like a slacker, too.

I'm just really down on myself today.  I'm tired and poor and unwanted and ugly and nothing more than a housekeeper, babysitter and source of income for my husband.  We are together out of convenience: that's pretty much the only reason why we are still together.  It's certainly not because we are on the same team, because we are not.  We think very differently, and he hardly thinks of me at all.  I'm certainly not his first priority, and he isn't mine, either.  We don't make each other happy; we don't even really like spending time together.  Allen does what he does and expects me to be fine with it.  I guess I do the same.  I just wish he thought enough about how I feel to make sure I could be there at the signing.  Yes, I told him I wasn't happy about it, but that doesn't matter.  Nothing I do really matters.  I just work here.

Turn and Face the Strange Ch-ch-changes

Riddle me this: why do I get sick at such inconvenient times?  I swear, I only get sick when my to-do list is unending, and thus have zero energy to accomplish any of it.  And I get further and further behind.  It was around September 6th when I started feeling really crappy; I left work early and sat on the couch all weekend (Grey's Anatomy marathon).  I tried to go back to work as scheduled the following Tuesday, but I didn't even make it four hours of my 12-hour shift.  I called in the next day too, and had the following Thursday off, in hopes of kicking it by then.  I had to go back to work on Friday, and while I did okay, I felt pretty miserable the whole time.  Saturday I felt a little better, and when I worked on Saturday night, I actually felt pretty good.  Yesterday (Sunday) I was very productive: I taught Relief Society, did several loads of laundry, two loads of dishes, made zucchini bread and a healthy dinner . . . and then I started feeling crappy again.  I guess I pushed it too hard.

I know I'm not supposed to run faster than I have strength, but I hate feeling sick.  I have too much to do to be running to the bathroom all the time.  Everything I eat goes straight through me (even pills come out the other end undigested, which I'm sure you wanted to know).  And as if being at war with the flora of my gut wasn't enough, I caught a cold at the same time.  I'm still coughing a little bit, but at least I have a voice now. 

And, all at the same time, we were house-hunting.  I had gone out with Marlene (our realtor) to see some houses, and I fell in love with one in particular.  By that evening, it was gone.  That was seriously depressing.  My #2 pick from that day was still available, so I wanted Allen to go look at it.  The Friday that I didn't leave the couch, he went to look at a few different houses.  He looked at the one I liked, but he hated it.  He found a house that he really liked, and he wanted to put an offer in on it before I had even seen it.  Seriously?  I made him wait until I saw it to submit an offer.  He did, and they counter-offered the next day, although they wanted another $500 in Earnest Money, with a 24-hour reply deadline.  He wanted to accept the counter then and there, but I needed some time to think about it (and to come to terms with the fact that I wouldn't be able to pay off my credit cards as planned).  I made him wait for at least 20 hours, because the whole thing was just moving so fast and my brain and body weren't in a good place.  How am I supposed to recognize what my gut says when it just feels sick and twisty?  I did pray about it, and my answer was to trust Allen.  I'm still not very happy with that answer; I'd rather know something for myself than rely on another person's opinion, even if that person is my husband.

So, um, I guess we bought a house.  My dad is helping us out with a down payment, and if everything goes through as anticipated, we will close on October 11.  It's still very surreal to me.  I wanted this, but I wanted to be a bit more involved in it, too.  Once Allen saw this house, he has done everything in his power to get it. It's all he talks about and thinks about.  He has been out to see it several times; I have only seen it once, and I wasn't feeling very well at the time.  I have mixed feelings about it, because of that.  Let's do some pros and cons.

Pro: It's a HOUSE, not an apartment.  Yay!
Con: It will definitely be more expensive (i.e., we'll be tightening our belts significantly)
Pro: The house was totally remodeled inside, and they did a nice job with it.
Con: The outside is very plain.  Zero personality.
Pro: We won't be surrounded by massive apartment complexes (much lower population density).
Con: The neighborhood is okay.  It's very middle-class in the West Valley/Kearns area.  A lot of the homes nearby need work.
Pro: It's on a cul-de-sac.
Con:  The backyard.  There is another cul-de-sac on the street behind the house, so from the backyard you can see about five other backyards from other peoples' homes.  Our yard is fenced in with chain-link, and there are no trees or anything to obscure this view.  Zero privacy.  I really don't like that, and I'm not terribly excited about forking out a bunch of money for a taller, vinyl fence.

And since I didn't have enough on my plate already, now we have to move.  And I have to figure out how we are going to furnish this place.  Our couches are NOT coming with us--they are in such horrible shape we can't even sell them.  They just need to go.  Plus, we have to clean up this apartment, which will be a nightmare.  Uggghhhh.  The next few weeks are going to be insane.  Again, I'm sorry for my lack of communication as of late.  I did publish a rant post I had left as a draft from August, but that's all I have for you for now.