You can have the apt…I don’t really need it.

In an email between Kait and I today she expressed her empathy at my vacuum cord having been eaten by Lucy in the following words:

ohhhh nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Yeah. I laughed my A off. It was one of the few things that made me laugh today. It also just so happens to be how I’ve felt about my entire day which truthfully started at about 2am rather than 4:15am as originally planned. It started with my own mistake admittedly.

Last night (as I’ve gotten into the habit of doing lately) I slept on the futon in my “living room”…I’ve fooled myself into thinking that falling asleep to the t.v. is easier than falling asleep to silence. And really, this shouldn’t be any kind of a problem. The two “rooms” in my apt. really aren’t that different after all. However, there is a new additive to my front door; a mail slot for rent payments (another entirely too long story as to why that’s changed now). It is big enough for someone open up and look through. I didn’t connect these two things when I went to sleep at like 8 last night.

2am…I wake up to someone pounding on my door. Not knocking, or rapping or any other cute way to say it…pounding. I instantly became enraged and hoped in vain that it was some drunk a-hole at the wrong door who would stagger away in a moment. Nope. What they did instead was flip up the mail slot thing and peek inside while frantically reporting, “Kelly wake up! Someone set the dumpster on fire!!”

Dogs are barking at full volume of course, as they always do anytime someone knocks on the door (only they’re actually louder when someone repeatedly knocks on the door; especially in the middle of the night when they’re at their most protective), I am not fully awake (nor fully dressed), I am disoriented…and I can not for the life of me believe that what he said wasn’t some ridiculous joke.

Even after I processed it some I just layed there for a while hoping the situation would sort of vanish. Then I heard the fire truck pull up. Sooo, I stumbled around in the dark trying to find acceptable clothing and some sort of shoe or slipper. I knew if I hadn’t I would just suffer through more knocking, and peering, and dog barking. (I will admit that I also thought to myself at that moment…damn Ozzies to hell…although, of course, I have no way of knowing how it started in the first place. It was just a little convenient however that it happened at what is commonly known as “drunk hour”.) 

On a complete side note, I will say my level of tranquility in situations that could be a crisis astounds me. Like when that earthquake happened years back that just about leveled the Phoenix Underground in Pioneer Square…I had been sleeping in, a friend had stayed the night. In the middle of the earthquake I calmly asked my friend, “is this an earthquake?” to which he replied, “yes”. I just continued to lay there during the entire thing. Or like, during that same year when an entire building in the apt. complex was burning to the ground and about five thousand fire trucks were screaming their way in and it took Audrey’s boyfriend moving heaven and earth (he actually did, it was pretty amazing) to get me out of bed. I should have been an EMT.

ANYway…once dressed I dutifully plodded outside. What did I do once I got there to handle the situation? I stood there in the cold, and blinked, and that was about it. They didn’t even have to wake me up at that hour. Because all I did was stand there and blink since it was handled. And so, since my sleep was so interrupted it was like pulling teeth to try and fall back asleep. For a while I considered just staying up until it was time to get ready…and then thought better of it.

Only I should have stayed awake, because I was a half an hour late to work this morning…after I had finally mustered the courage to commit to 6am Tue-Fri. Nice. AND, prior to having to show up late to work I got to see (with contacts in) the carnage from the fire that I would have to clean up once I got home (from being late to work). I also made the mistake of disclosing the burning dumpster story to my supervisor after apologizing for being late…and it was only after I returned to my office that I realized the story sounds like the most legendary reason ever for ending up late to work (especially taking into account the kinds of stories we hear from clients at times).

ohhhh nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Yeah. Only it was true. But that’s not even the best part. On the bus, on the way to work I realized that I couldn’t remember actually latching Lucy’s kennel because I was in a huge rush to get out of the apt. so I could spend $10 on a cab (so as to avoid being “Metro” late).

ohhhh nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

No. No. And no. Because I clearly remember the annihilation the last time I so foolishly made that same mistake. So I spent the day with the impact of that potential mess on top of the mess I had actually witnessed. Cool.

Eventually I returned to the oasis of home, only when I got here and first walked in Lucy’s presence was not immediately apparent (not only because I couldn’t see her, but also because my belongings at first glance had not been severely interrupted). I really did wonder for a second if she had somehow gotten out of the apt. and was blazing through the streets of Queen Anne. Her behavior is so awful sometimes that for a deranged moment I really did wonder if that had happened and became even more freaked out.

All was solved when I found her in the bathroom…she had locked herself in there accidentally which truthfully is better than if she had been foot loose and fancy free in my apt. all day. BUT she did get a hold of various items, including a knife that had been in the sink, as well as a few other kitchen instruments that she pulverized before the demise of her free run. I won’t go into the details of the mess I had to clean up in my bathroom but maybe it’s imagineable…a year-old labrador who is kennel trained having access to all that extra space for 8 hours (especially considering that labradors are known for the following: obsessive chewing, dependence on other beings, and an amazingly high tolerance for pain). I still can’t find the other (huge) piece of my hand held mirror that used to call my bathroom its home…I suspect that she probably did actually ingest the whole thing save for a small pice of wood which was part of the frame. During the hour that I spent cleaning everything up I also spent one wild moment dreaming of just throwing away most of my belongings, turning my apt. into a big kennel, and sleeping in my car to allow them the run of the place so I wouldn’t have to ever again go through the process of detaining my anger about my chewed up belongings while cleaning it all up. In all actuality, it was maybe good that I had to spend all that time focusing on returning my place to status quo today; it provided me an outlet to avoid ruminating on other things.  

One good thing?! Someone cleaned up the garbage mess and when I saw that I almost got down on my knees and thanked the heavens. I am not resting until I find out who it was so I can bear hug them until they can’t breathe for a second. AND, the day is over.

I hope my Dad does a good job on my car this week, because after the week I’ve had I’m going to drive the hell out of that thing this weekend (especially since I now need to purchase a new vacuum).

All I wanted to do was a bit of laundry

That’s it. Maybe some cleaning that really needs to be done before a single person sets foot in my apt on Wednesday evening. But at least some laundry, because the pile of it had become a house of its own in the back room of my tiny apt.

The day was overwhelming to say the least, after many days of not being at work to handle the stuff that piles up so willingly. I almost stayed way late to get more done than I could in a 8 hour day, but decided against it, because I have my own life too. I may have been better off staying at work.

I arrived home and was greeted by the same SUV that has been blocking the apt alleyway for the past four days…the alleyway that conveniently holds our huge dumpsters that are now overflowing…because the parking “authority” didn’t think it was all that important the first four times I called. So I called them again because officially it is now an abandoned vehicle per their definition. I was told it could be up to two weeks before they get to it. The garbage is already overflowing.

Fine. They don’t care and I’m doing what I can do. So I continued on to pile up a couple of bedrooms of laundry from the newly formed house and plodded up to the laundry room. It took me a second to realize that the laundry room was less bright than it regularly is. A light out. A light requiring a bulb that has to be special ordered and that I don’t have on hand because I”m not “on top of” one single thing in my life right now. Nice.

I’m probably over dramatizing, I tend to do that. The light broke the proverbial camel’s back however. It’s amazing how much things can break. That’s what today made me think of especially after a conversation I had earlier in the day.

My family postponed our routine Christmas eve dinner until this past Saturday due to the inclement weather. It sounds silly, but every year my uncle lovingly builds what he calls the “chili pepper lounge” (named so because he puts up chili pepper lights rather than Christmas lights) on the back deck for those of us in the family that make the poor decision to smoke. Usually he will come out at some point and smoke a cigar. He did this as usual on Saturday. Only, the lounge did not hold chili pepper lights this year. He couldn’t find them and instead put up blue and green lights. Seahawks for those of you that don’t know. We remarked on the lack of chili pepper lights and he explained laughingly that instead we had Seahawks lights. I made some disparaging comment about football which (although I don’t really hate football and actually enjoy going to the games) is just what I do and he returned said comment by saying in general that as far as sports in Seattle this past year, things couldn’t get much worse.

I just couldn’t leave it alone (as per usual) and said, “well…they could always sell the Seahawks next year”. Nice, Kelly. However, he did concede his point and say, “well, I suppose things could get worse”.

It’s really nice and quaint to say that “things couldn’t get much worse” in various situations and referring to various things. The fact of the matter is, things can always break a little more. As small as they’ve been reduced to they can always get smaller, and a little bit worse even if the “worse” seemed incomprehensible. We did split the atom after all.

Things can break more at any time, and some things continue to break a little more over periods of time until one day it’s too obvious to ignore, and sometimes they are beyond one person’s control. The little dutch boy in the popular fable did his best with the whole dike thing, but one person can’t fix something alone, or even hold things as they are alone. I know that as I get older I’m supposed to accept this more gracefully…the whole “I can’t fix everything” and “I can’t keep people from arguing or fighting”. The truth of the matter is that it doesn’t get easier to accept. It actually seems to get more frustrating.

I was actually worried that I would get “the pink slip” today

I care not that it makes me sound certifiable…I woke up too anxious to leave my apartment today. Staying in bed for a bit with the most loyal and also obnoxious labs that ever lived helped to decrease the anxiety a bit.

Until I checked my cell phone and saw that one of my supervisors had called. Uh-oh. Dutifully I returned the call and it went a little like this:

Me (no I did not initiate an actual greeting b/c my number is in his cell): Are you calling to fire me?

Him: No, I was calling to ask something about a client but I figured it out, it’s okay. (Inside I sighed the most relieved sigh ever emitted).

Me: I’m sorry that my anxiety has gotten the best of me, it should get better soon after my med appt yesterday. I thought you might be calling me to fire me.

Him: No, that wouldn’t happen…no one wants to deal with having to do drug court reports. (Don’t I know it).

So, in part I think they keep me because the job that I do, no one else wants to have to do. Sometimes, I don’t even want to do it as much as I love my job.

Although today, I channeled my anxiety in a more positive way than simply shutting myself inside. I signed a lease with someone and collected money which we so desperately need at this time, I updated my apt collection reports, and I faxed in some more applications.

And tomorrow I will return to work on a new med level…and also to collect one of the lattes I won in a bet because it didn’t snow, just as I thought it wouldn’t. :)

On a complete side note, I have a dinner date on Friday which I’m pretty pleased about.

I want an award

I’m serious. I’ll tell you why.

I want an award specifically intended for distinguished multi-tasking in just a few hours while en route to one medical appointment today. Apparently I’m capable of a lot. Who knows…if I did really put all my potential to use maybe I could retire by the age of 40.

Today I:

1. Organized all available apartments to be rekeyed so that they are ready when apps are approved.
2. Organized the replacing of a mail key that was lost by a tenant.
3. Organized, with much drama (to clarify, the drama was not mine), the signing of a lease for someone that was approved. What could be dramatic about signing a lease you might ask? The tenant was described to me by his friend as “a little slow” (his words, not mine). This is apparently why the friend accompanied the tenant to all these viewings, etc. that had to happen thus far. When I met the tenant he seemed to me to be pretty capable and intelligent. The tenant has sisters whom I have also spoken to and gotten the impression that they feel the need to treat him as if he is a lot less capable than he really is. During the most recent conversation I had with a sister today I had to utilize my skills of redirecting and subtly enforcing boundaries regarding what she was wanting to share with me having to do with their family dynamics. It was tough. I felt as if I was sitting down with a client.
4. Made positive contact with someone that I haven’t spoken to in some time…a couple of years to be exact. It was nice to hear from them. I have a tendency to continue to care about people regardless of what may have gone down in the past.
5. Attempted to sell puppies on someone’s behalf. Specifically the puppies of the Holly lab that used to be mine, and sort of someone else’s at the same time. The Holly lab who is sadly not any part of mine today. But good god her puppies are adorable.
6. Adjusted my crazy pill level. Funnily enough most of the above was done on the way to and on the way home from my med appt today.

I want an award. And p.s.; I made it perfectly on time to my appt even after having to transfer to five million busses that I have never taken before.

The good stuff…

And only the good stuff.

1. Compliments: This evening while chatting outside with Kait for a bit one of our neighbors passed by on his way to his apt. He said, “it’s looking really good around here, compliments to you”. I almost cried. It’s one thing for friends to notice how hard one works, but for someone who isn’t obligated to notice it? Well, that’s just good stuff.
2. Losing: Clients that is. After having a caseload of 100 or more for heaven knows how long, I was able to transfer 10 clients today to a new counselor that has started. To be clear, it’s not that I necessarily didn’t want to work with the particular clients transferred…being overworked is dragging, and it’s nice to finally get some reprieve.
3. Addiction: I. Can. Not. Stop. Playing. PS2. I can’t. The addiction has been renewed. I know, PS2? Sounds lame I’m sure, but I’m certainly not going to go out and spend $300 (or is it more? I don’t even know) on a PS3. I haven’t messed with it for a long time, but for some reason I’ve been recently obsessed with it. I even think about it at work; sometimes I wish I could go home early to hide in PS2-ism. It’s kind of fun right now. Don’t judge me.
4. Thanksgiving: It will be here in 8 days. I love it for a few reasons…first, I heart holidays with my family; we’re mostly happy/jovial, we joke around, we hang out. Also, I love stuffing. Also, I get a four-day weekend, and I get paid for not working the Friday after.

There’s some good stuff lately. I like it.