Fadedwords

“I’m getting sick of all this damn snow.” -Jake

hehehehehehe.

ps- we had 7 inches one day, a dusting another day, and a threat of snow showers this weekend.

I haven’t written a thing about how wonderful my anniversary was, which is lame of me.  It was awesome.  Jake took me out to eat at Olive Garden, one of my favorite places.  The wait wasn’t too long and the food was out of this world.  He also got me this:

It was completely unexpected.  I had mentioned I wanted it for Christmas, which was odd… I don’t know that I’ve ever wanted any jewelry other than an amethyst ring.  I saw a commercial for this necklace and fell in love with it.  I told him, because I’m not one to beat around the bush.  I don’t understand girls who don’t just tell their S.O. what they want; it’s incredibly unfair to them.  In any case… I said I liked it and would very much enjoy getting it.  I didn’t at Christmas and was a little bit disappointed.  I got over it though, because the gifts I did get were so thoughtful.  I didn’t expect to get it at all and thought perhaps I had finally stepped over the ‘that’s too much for a present’ line.  Or some such thing.  I opened my present before we went out to dinner and was astonished to find the necklace laying inside.  It made me cry.  So way to go Jake for getting me an awesome gift. 

Dinner was lovely.  I had this ravioli that had cheese inside and a white wine sauce over the top, with shrimp.  I’d made myself a promise before we went that I would not be following the WW plan while we were out.  So I didn’t.  It was fantastic.  We took one picture, outside the restaurant:

It was a good night. 

I woke up at around 4am Sunday and felt awful.  It was a really bad stomach ache and pain in my chest and back.  I’ve had this before, and just always have waited it out.  That’s what I did on Sunday.  It lasted about three hours, all of which I spent trying to get comfortable and wishing for death.  It went away though.

I went to my friend Dana’s son’s birthday party at 2pm.  I came home and was tired from being up so early, so I went in to the bedroom and laid down with a movie on.  At around 5 I started to feel sick again.  By six o’clock the pain was back and absolutely horrible.  After about half an hour I asked Jake fi he would go get P*epto B*ismol or something at the store.  He left, and I called my Mom to see if she had any idea what was going on.  I described my symptoms and she said, “Honey, you’re having a gallbladder attack.”

Eff.

Gallbladder issues run in my family.  My aunt delt with hers for years before she finally caved in and let them operate.  She’s my new hero by the way; I have no idea how anyone could live with pain like that for any amount of time.  It was absolutely horrific.

By the time Jake got home from the store, I was crying from the pain.  I’m not a big crier… usually I do pretty well with pain.  This pain was relentless and truly the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life.  I called my  Mom back and she said I should go to the hospital.  So away we went.

We were at the ER until 4am.  The hospital we went to keeps no ultrasound tech on at night, so all they did was diagnose me (it was a gallbladder attack!) and give me pain medication.  They referred me for an ultrasound and said that if the ultrasound came back showing issues that my primary physician could refer me for surgery.  The gallbladder is expendable, and I will absolutely opt to have it taken out.  I never want to go through that pain again.

I stayed home from work yesterday because I was so tired and still feeling gross.  I feel wretched today as well, but I needed to come to work.  Hopefully I can have an ultrasound done this week and know the results soon.  I would very much like to get this taken care of sooner rather than later. 

As always, Jake was right there by my side through all of it.  He is fantastic, and barely teased me when I was doped up on morphine.  Way to go   I had also called my friend Bethany on my way to the hospital to let her know I might need her to let people at work know what was going on.  Apparently my attempt to be funny turned out to sound angry and upset.  In my message I just told her I was on my way to the ER.  So she and her boyfriend called all the local hospitals, found where I was, and drove all the way out there to check on me!!  Not only do I have an awesome boyfriend, I have a truly wonderful best friend.

A little over 3 years ago I didn’t really have a whole lot of faith left in the idea of relationships.  I’d been hurt, badly, on two separate occasions by men that I was deeply in love with.  My heart was pretty much fed up, and so was my mind.  I didn’t think that anyone I began seeing was going to be “the one”; I no longer even believed in that concept.  I just thought that I’d be a serial dater, and I’d get over the notion of happily ever after.  It didn’t seem so hard, because all of my hopes had been dashed.  I had reached a point that I was completely OK with being alone.

Then I met Jake.

Read the rest of this entry »

I don’t do this job because I expect a whole lot back.  I didn’t become a counselor because it was a profession that would make me rich.  I didn’t become one because I expected to get thanks or accolades or gifts or really much of anything other than self-satisfaction.  It’s a good thing I was realistic, because typically I’m broke, tired, and my only sense of how well I’m doing is how the kids react when they see me in the hallways or in their classroom.

I’d be lying though, if I said I haven’t been a little bit disappointed the last two years.  The National School Counselors’ Association (NSCA) promotes National School Counseling Week every year.  It’s like Teacher Appreciation Week or Administrator Appreciation Day, or Secretaries Day; you just celebrate how great your colleagues are.  My first school wasn’t big on celebrating anyone, so I got lumped in with the teachers for their appreciation week.  It was nice, but I felt a bit hurt that no one had said anything to me during counselors’ week.  Last year I’m pretty sure that my principal hated me and only kept me around because she couldn’t fire me, at least during counselors’ week.  So it passed quietly last year.  I got a note from central office telling me I was appreciated, but that was it.  I did get a little token during Teacher Appreciation week… but it was kind of a downer.  It was disappointing, but I kind of shrugged it off.    This is the job I signed up for, and like most jobs it comes with little thanks.

I didn’t expect this year to be any different.  Perhaps I should have known better.

I came in this morning and went to my mailbox, as I always do.  There was a folded piece of paper inside, with a yellow sticky note stuck to it.  The note said, “cupcakes are forthcoming!” in my principal’s handwriting.  I was a little confused, but I carried the paper back to my office and set it down to open it.  When I unfolded it I laughed because he’d put a pack of sticky notes inside.  We had just been talking about my obsession with sticky notes last week.  Then I looked ath the paper; it was a sign that said ‘School Counselors Making a Difference.’  All of the teachers and office staff had signed it with little notes of encouragement and thanks.  I took a picture, but I don’t get good enough cell reception at work to send it to myself, so I’ll update later.  It was just so incredibly sweet for them to do that.

I went to my boss to thank him after I had stopped crying (oh I’m such a girl) and told him I was holding him to the cupcakes.  He apologized for not having it to me last week, because appreciation week was last week.  I told him it was alright, said that this is the first time I’ve been given anything and that he’d made me cry.  He said, “Good.  You’re getting in touch with the pink caboose!”  *grin* That’s a story for another day though.

It was a nice way to start my day, especially since I was feeling kinda’ down this morning.  Three cheers for feeling appreciated.

3 years ago today, I was sitting at Rochester International Airport with my friend Steve, anxiously awaiting the arrival of a man named Jake.  I was scared to death, not because I didn’t think that he would be nice or because I thought he was some psychotic serial killer.  I was scared because I was worried he wouldn’t like me in person.  I thought things would be awkward or strange or not what either of us had been hoping for. 

Then I saw him walking through the terminal and I knew without one moments’ hesitation that everything was going to be fine. 

We spent that weekend doing nothing but hanging out.  We watched movies and laid around my apartment.  I dragged him to the barn at 7am and made him stand in the freezing cold arena.  He watched me ride, and took pictures of me jumping my first 3 foot tall fence.  He didn’t complain once about the cold, even though he’s from the south and was probably frozen solid. 

His plane got delayed due to weather, so we spent a little more time hanging out in the hotel room before I had to go back to my apartment because I had to work the next morning.  I remember that leaving him that day was so incredibly hard.  We’d gone out to lunch and to the store that day, and we’d held hands.  Neither one of us had thought to discuss “us”, and that seemed OK in the moment. 

That weekend was perfect just in being with him, finally, after almost a year of being friends. 

The “big talk” didn’t take place for several more days.  I was afraid to ask him what he wanted, because I thought for sure he’d say that the distance or something else wasn’t going to work for him.  I shouldn’t have been worried.  That’s a story for another day though. 

3 years ago I saw Jake for the first time.  I knew that day, standing in the airport, that I would never want to stop seeing him.  I knew that that one day was going to turn in to my entire future.  I was right.