What a whirlwind last week was! It seems like such a blur, mostly because I got so little sleep. I was freaked out pretty badly by a phone call I got early in the week and was trying hard not to worry about Nbs, but that's pretty much impossible. I finally heard again, though, and was relieved. He's doing well and staying safe.
I spent an entire afternoon last week sitting in a classroom at the hospital learning about migraines. That was their solution to sending me to neurology for the headaches I've been dealing with for months. Frustrating, but in a way, it has actually helped. I learned enough that I can actually identify symptoms and warning signs of an impending migraine. And learned a few relaxation techniques to help deal with them without as much medication, as overmedication can cause more headaches, causing you to take more meds, which is just a vicious cycle that I don't want to go through again now that I know better. I hadn't really had many problems with them lately, but I teetered right on the edge of one all day yesterday. After my class I decided to go do a little shopping, to get an mp3 player for when I go walking or to the gym. I ended up calling a lady from my FRG who lives near where I went shopping, and we had dinner together and talked for awhile. I'm sure I overstayed my welcome, but man was it nice to have some intelligent adult conversation for a change.
The next evening was a bit schizophrenic. My neighbor invited me over for dinner, which was nice. Her parents and brother moved in when her husband deployed, so there was a full house for the barbecue. The food was fabulous, and I had a great time talking with her mother. But therein lies part of the difficulty with my relationship with the neighbor. She's 10 years younger than me, and so immature that it's not even funny. She's also more than a bit on the dumb end of the scale, and I generally don't say things like that lightly, no matter how much I might think them. Either one of those things I can handle, but the combination of the two is deadly, especially when you add in a healthy dose of out and out rudeness. You see, a couple of hours after dinner, I had gone home and decided I needed to get the rest of my exercise in. It was after dark, so I didn't necessarily want to go walk out in the neighborhood, but I was really bored with walking in circles aroun the inside of my living room. I got the brilliant idea that I could turn on the light outside and walk around my back yard instead. How wrong I was! I was half way around the yard on my first time around when her dog started barking up a storm. I continued to walk, making one more loop before I realized that the dog was not going to shut up. Determined not to completely waste my time outside, I stayed on the patio for a few minutes to water the flowers I have in planters. The dog had quieted down, so I thought maybe she had calmed down and I could continue walking. I stepped off of the patio and walked a few steps, and she set off barking again.
At this point, my neighbor came outside, slamming her door, and started yelling for whoever was out there to stop teasing her dog and get away fro her yard before she called the cops on them. The tirade that lasted several minutes was peppered with obscenities practically every other word. When she stopped to take a breath, I said that it was her neighbor outside in their own back yard. She wanted to know which neighbor it was, still cussing. I replied it was the one she'd been nice enough to have over for dinner, which had been much appreciated until I was verbally assaulted in my own backyard, Thanks! All she said was that she hadn't realized it was me, then went back inside, slamming the door behind her yet again, even though she knows that it's very loud in my place when she does so. I am so sick of sharing a wall with this infantile child. I already feel like I have to check out the front window before I leave to make sure she and/or her brother aren't out there when I leave because they want rides(without actually asking), want to borrow something, want to wash my car (for $), or just want to talk to me about something, when I'm on my way somewhere and don't have time. And when I ignore her brother, he just comes up to me and starts poking me on the shoulder until I pay attention. Oh My Freaking Gosh!!! You'd think he was 3 years old instead of 26 with 6 kids of his own, none of whom live with him, incidentally. Oh, and since his fiancee just left, he's bored, so he thinks I should come over and hang out with him some time. Yeah right!
AARRGGHH!!!!!!!!
Enough about that.....
Last week also marked the memorial service for the first soldier killed in the larger unit my husband left with. Although I didn't know the soldier or family, I felt like I needed to be there to show my support. I arrived at the chapel just after the service began, so I stood in the doorway at the very back. Even if I'd gotten there several minutes earlier I would have been in the back, as it was standing room only, including at least 30 of us in the vestibule. Being rather vertically challenged, I was unable to see through the interior doorway to the front of the chapel, but I was able to hear most of what was being said. I listened as fellow soldiers described a wonderful young man, a friend who left behind a beloved girlfriend he kept in touch with online while he was gone. I felt strangely detached and unaffected, thinking that I should feel more than I did. After all, this was a precious life, cut all too short. Instead, I struggled to maintain a somber facade and not giggle. As I stood there listening to the Chaplain read the 23rd Psalm, through the door to one side of me, the honor guard lined up for their salute, the bugler behind prepared for Taps. The crowd in front of me parted long enough for me to catch a glimpse of the combat boots with weapon and helmet at the front of the chapel with the portait of the fallen soldier. And on the other side of me, a piper warmed up for Amazing Grace. All of this was done with wonderful sincerity, and it was a beautiful service. However, to me, it was all cliche, all seemed trite. It was everything that my husband had told me he didn't want if the worst were to happen to him. To my musician's exacting ears, the pipes and bugle sounded horribly off. It all seemed so absurd to me I thought I would burst for holding in the laughter.
When it came time for people to go forward and pay their respects, I realized that I should pray for the family. But I didn't. So I decided to start. And yet, when I did finally begin to pray, the words that came to mind were not for the family, but "Thank You God, that it's not me....." I felt so guilty, as I am not usually such a selfish person, but the relief that it wasn't MY soldier I was there for was so great, and the fear that it could so easily be the next time. I guess it was all a bit too much. I didn't stay and go forward. Maybe I should have. Maybe I shouldn't have gone at all.
That experience did help inspire me as far as a possible job is concerned, though. There was a job listed recently that is just so perfect for me that I couldn't have planned it any better. My work experience has been pretty diverse as I have moved over the years and had to change jobs. The combination of skills and experiences I have had is almost tailor made for it though. I went today to get the application information, and I'll be working on it tonight. Wish me luck! This would be such a great career opportunity, and I would be able to help people in a capacity that I would really enjoy. I may even decide to take a different path with the last class for my degree, as in 3 classes to do a minor in psych as opposed to 1 class to finish the minor in French. I would have to attend more services like the one last week, though, so I better learn to deal with the urge to laugh at inappropriate times. And accept that it's okay to be thankful each time that it's not me, because someday it might be.
