Writing Challenge Q&A: My Day

Hello yet again!  This is the second to last installment of the Writing Challenge Q&A for anyone who’s wondering.  Today’s topic is courtesy of my beautiful and crafty friend, Angela Wilson.  She makes some really neat stuff, so if you’re in the New Brunswick area of Canada and spot her at a craft fair, check her stuff out!  She chose number 15 (bullet-point your whole day).  I will do my best to describe my usual day.  I’m not really that interesting, so I do basically the same thing every day.  I actually started that Daily Goal Calendar that I mentioned trying out, so here’s a visual of my April!

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It turned out to be really helpful.

So, a typical day goes something like this (please note that the times are approximations):

Noon ’til two – The process of getting up.  This includes waking up, switching from my mask to the mouthpiece on my ventilator, a face cleaning, bathroom duties, making sure my Minion knows Dad and I are alive, transferring to the wheelchair, a cleaning followed by deodorant, getting dressed, and teeth brushing.  It takes anywhere from an hour and a half to two hours depending on if we (we = Dad who is my caretaker and I) rush it.

Two ’til three-thirty – The breakfast routine.  I check my email, try to post on all of my author pages, and play mindless games while Dad cooks breakfast and sets up my drink and whatnot.  Eating usually takes 45 minutes or so (long enough to watch an hour long DVR’d show while fast forwarding through commercials).

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There’re always eggs, so it’s breakfast!

 Three-thirty ’til six-thirty – New writing routine!  A couple of weeks ago, I started doing “writing stints” with a couple of friends.  It’s like a writing sprint, but without the competitive element.  We start at four (I take care of random small tasks or work on the crossword until then), write for an hour, take a five or ten minutes break to check in, then write for another hour and check in again.  I always avoided things like that because I’m a slow typer and I feel awkward “racing” people, so we decided that we’d set our own goals and simply check in with each other to stay motivated and accountable.  If we feel like it or miss our goals, sometimes we do a third stint.  And we can do the stints separately if need be, then talk about them that night.

Six-thirty ’til eight – Randomness.  There’s not really anything scheduled during this time.  Sometimes I read.  I might work on the crossword.  Netflix is an option.  So is revision (if I have something of my own stuff to look at) or critiquing (if I have someone else’s work to look at).  I also answer emails and texts during this time.  It’s really just for whatever I need to get done.  If all else fails, there’re always mindless games.

Eight ’til eleven – Dinner, TV time, and more randomness.  If we eat at home, dinner is usually pretty late.  Then we watch a couple of hours of TV if there’s anything good on the DVR.  Afterwards, I spend some time randomly checking Facebook or playing games or finishing the crossword or whatever before bed.

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Why does everyone die in my bedtime stories?

Eleven-thirty ’til one-thirty – The process of going to bed.  Another lengthy process that includes a bunch of steps.  Bathroom duties, cleaning, switching from the mouthpiece to the mask on the ventilator and getting everything set, etc.  Basically just reverse the getting up process.  It still takes forever.  Then I talk to myself or Siri until I fall asleep (another lengthy process all on its own).

That’s my usual day.  I told you I wasn’t very interesting.  How about you?  How was your day?

Writing Challenge Q&A: Blessings

Hello, hello once again!  Are you ready for another round of the Writing Challenge Q&A?  Today’s topic is courtesy of another fellow Stonecoaster, Derek Hoffman.  He’s had some blessings of his own recently what with the newest addition to his family and whatnot, so he chose number 12 (“write about 5 blessings in your life”) for me to discuss today.  I totally admit that this topic was way more difficult than it should’ve been, mostly because I’ve been overthinking it.  My original thoughts just seemed uninspired and simple and things that everyone would say.  Then, I realized that none of that matters.  They don’t have to be exciting or complex or unique as long as I’m being honest with myself and you all.  So, here’s a pretty standard list of my blessings, in no particular order.

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My graduating class/faculty from Stonecoast.

1.  If you’ve read my blog posts in the past, you knew Stonecoast (the program where I got my MFA) would be on the list.  It was the first place where I felt comfortable coming out of my shell.  I made some friends for life while I was there.  I miss it a lot, but I’m really happy that I got to experience that kind of community.  Plus, I got to visit the Harraseeket Inn for three winters because of it!  I definitely recommend going there if you get the chance.  Anyway, Stonecoast and the whole experience is something I will always hold dear.

2.  My parents.  It’s overdone, I know, but I have a pretty good reason to include them.  Mom took care of me for 25 years.  Things may not have been great (or even good) between us, but I really do appreciate that she took care of me.  She did everything because I couldn’t do it myself.  When she got sick and passed away, Dad took over.  And even though I probably don’t say it enough, I appreciate him as well.  Plus I get to eat his cooking.  That’s basically a blessing in itself.

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The Minion and I.  I’ve probably posted this before.

3.  Friends.  Yeah, I said it.  Without my friends (you know who you are), I wouldn’t be the delightfully creepy person I am today.  From the early Interwebz friends to the handful of local real life friends to the Stonecoasters, you guys rock.  That is all.

4.  The one really weird blessing that people probably won’t understand is the fact that I’m cripple.  Don’t get me wrong, it usually sucks, but I know myself and I have a pretty good idea of the type of person I would be if I were “normal.”  Let’s just say that I like the person I currently am a lot better.  After all, I’d probably be dead or in jail or at least be a cautionary tale if it weren’t for the crippleness, so yeah.  It’s as good as it is bad.

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I miss my Julia.

 

5.  Pets.  I know it’s hard when we lose them, but I wouldn’t give up knowing any of my animals.  They enrich our lives in so many ways.  They give us unconditional love even when we don’t necessarily deserve it.  Pets are wonderful.

Yeah, it’s not a very insightful list, but who cares?  It’s mine.  What are some of the blessings in your lives?

Writing Challenge Q&A: First Love

Hello once again!  It’s time for the next installment of the impromptu Q&A.  This week’s topic is brought to you by my Minion (Joel Rede).  He chose 19, which is “discuss your first love.”  Why the Minion is interested in my lack of a love life is beyond me, but whatever.  This is actually something I don’t really talk about with anyone, so forgive me if it gets a little weird.

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Replace the house thing with Interwebz stalking.  Also, it’s always creepy .  But you accepted that.

So, what exactly is a first love?  I could tell you about my first crush, or the first boy I loved like a sibling, or I could simply say I’ve never had one because I’ve never dated anyone.  All of those stories would be true, but at the same time, they’d be a lie.  I think first love is something we have to identify for ourselves.  Each of our experiences are different.  Some first loves are amazing and some are heartbreaking.  Then, there’s the kind that’s neither breathtakingly beautiful nor Earth-shatteringly horrible, it simply is what it is.  That’s the way mine was.

Don’t get me wrong, my first love was a lot of things.  It was unconventional (back before “we met online” became an acceptable meet-cute outside of the nerd circle).  It was terrifying.  It was beautiful in its own way.  And, ultimately, it was probably unrequited.  But I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, because it was exactly what I needed at the time.

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When I met First Love (the person), I was eighteen, maybe nineteen.  I was hanging out in the Yahoo chatrooms when I spotted a screenname that intrigued me.  After a few minutes of stalking him, I got bored, pounced on him, and stole his boxers (it was this whole running joke between my friends and I back then, don’t ask).  We goofed around and talked in the chatroom for a while, then he eventually PMed me and the rest was history as they say.

Back then, I was in a really dark place.  First Love was the first person I felt comfortable enough showing the darkness to and he accepted it.  He never tried to tell me I shouldn’t be having those thoughts or feelings.  He didn’t try to change me.  He simply supported me when I needed it and talked me through things when I needed a dialogue.  It was terrifying, because he was the first person to see all the parts of myself that I hate and claim to love me for it.  Even when I pushed away, he was there.  Granted, he lives in the UK, so I never had to deal with any of those “let’s meet” conversations (which I probably would’ve shut down right away), but for many years, he was there just to talk to and be sweet talked by.  Like I said, it was what I needed at the time.

Not to mention his influence on my music tastes and the like.  I was mostly punk and metal before First Love came around.  Ugh.  The things we do for love.  But, eventually life started getting in the way.  We both had University (his word, not mine).  Our chances to talk faded away.  I’m glad I got to know him, but I’m happy he got a life outside of the Interwebz.  He deserves so much better than talking to me all the time.

Feel free to discuss your first love!  You know where to find me.

Murphy’s Law for Cripples

Howdy, howdy.  Yesterday (actually, it’s today as I’m writing this) was (is?) one of those days.  It’s always nice to wake up to one of your key pieces of machinery (naturally one of the few you don’t have a good spare for) being dead (again).  Yes, the hydraulics on my patient lift (the thing that transfers me from bed to chair, etc.) decided it would be fun to go out in the middle of the night.  I was stuck in bed until 4:00, 4:30, which didn’t really bother me aside from zapping any desire to be productive.  And surprisingly, the medical equipment company sent someone out to look at it right away.

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Life rises to the challenge.  Always.

 

Bad news!  The hydraulic pump is dead (you don’t say?!).  I’ve had this particular lift less than four years and this is the third or fourth time they’ve had to replace the pump.  Normally, it gives us a little warning before performing a dramatic death scene, so we have time to fix it, but not this time.  Granted, I’d lost complete faith in this piece of equipment long ago (after all, at least two of the replacement pumps had the following sticker on them, so trust is an issue), but I have no choice except to use it (it’s like my relationship with elevators: hate/no choice).  Yeah.

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Front.  They couldn’t spell front.  How can I trust a company that can’t spell FRONT?

 

So, I was stuck in bed trying not to go down that “every bad outcome of this scenario” rabbit hole, and succeeding quite well with not panicking, when the “good” news came.  They (the medical company) had a spare that we can borrow until mine gets fixed or replaced.  The problem?  It’s electric, so it’s not great for me in the first place.  Plus there’re weird boxes that get in the way of my feet.  And I’ve never used one before, so it’s a little terrifying.  When I get nervous, I ask stupid questions and point out obvious problems and all of that, which annoys the person taking care of me (namely Dad) because he’s also trying to figure out how to make it work, which makes him snappy.  On top of everything else, we were both a little hangry.  Needless to say, issues arose.

But, I made it to my chair (which has also been acting up) without getting anything broken.  I tried to figure out some Medicare problems I’ve been having.  Then I wrote this.  I’m officially done with today (yesterday as you’re reading this).

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So done.

 

So, what does all of this mean?  Absolutely nothing.  I needed to rant and I needed a blog topic.  You can take it as a glance into cripple problems if you want.  Feel free to send me a rant since you’ve made it this far!  I’ll gladly listen to your woes since you paid attention to mine.  Fingers crossed tomorrow is better.  Have a wonderful week, everyone!