I didn't go again...Coat on, Rex in tow,I never made it out the door. Please forgive me..it was just a bad dream...just a bad day. Transribed<1/2 inventory notes to official papers...then tossed it aside in disgust...not due until 11am, so I will crash early & get up early. I am still drained, but calm now, w/normal breathing, and no more tears. I just had a really bad visit 2 wks ago, & have been strained ever since. I joined the 6 ft Bonde's fan club, and the bad dreams of Jim...Laurel Crowned visited me personally...Ice melted me, JB is always there for me so prolifically, Dazey say git a new doc, but it ain't that ez...in fact, I signed a contract w/that pain clinic that said I'd keep the dr that had referred me, and not go RX shopping.. Bubba (the man of few words) had 2 TV's going in the living room, watching 2 football games, w/the volume up on both...I declined his kind invitation to join him. I had called my 2 sisters when I couln't make it out the door-Jan told me to get a grip. Kath told me green tea & a DVD & to stay off the computer(fat chance). But I wanted you to know I'm doing better, y'all. I had just put Carlos's headphones on and started to feel the healing, when Jan walked through my bedroom door, sorry that she had told me to get a grip(I tell everyone to tell me that-when I hear it, I ususally do. Ice told me to once. It is what I needed to hear.) Jan also told me my Aunt Gretta checks in on Mokie Joe's & my blogs from time to time(OMG! Now she knows about my illegal smiles!), But as we are both rather wordy she is unable to wade thru allllllll of our blog entries,(whew! Maybe she dosen't know)(maybe she doesn't care). And I always wanted to have my blog be a nice place to visit...whassup w/the buzz kilL? my mOM ALWAYS TOLD ME IF I DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING NICE TO SAY, don't say anything at all..so, whassup w/the buzzkill? A ploy for sympathy? I dunno. I'm sorry. I guess that this is just a tough time in my life. I need to pay more attention to the things I say. I need to take good care of me. The secret of life IS enjoying the passage of time(tho, if 1 does not know great sorrow, 1 can never know great joy, I have been told.) And I have repeated it to many in sorrow...but not lately to me.I do have to roll with the punches to get to what's real...and all that other happy horsepucky in my demure profile...I really meant them, but they are easily forgotten when brain chemicals make it thru the reat of my bod. I have never had a nightmare/terror affect me so physically. Forgive my belly aching. Forgive me asking for forgiveness. It took all day, Jan's visit, Carlos (I am somebody!) on de headphones,(x3). Then, I was worried about the buzzkill efect. Losing my new friends and confidantes...who wants to hang w/a buzz kill anyway? Blogstream always makes me high. I will try not to ever abuse the friends I've made here. I am better than that...than I have been today...I'm better now. thanks.

Maybe even night terrors...seemingless endless dreams of chasing my demented folks up & down long hospital hallways, making them get out of mistaken beds, wheeling them back to where I thought they belonged, trying to obey their immpossible demands,having the head nurse(no jokes) yelling at me that I had other patients waiting for my help and to stop paying so much attention to my parents. 2 hrs after waking, my breathing is still rapid and shallow, my pulse, still racing. How do people handle feeling like this? Meds? I gos me Prozac, but I am a mud puddle with a racing pulse this AM. What does it take to get a Valium from a Doc these days? A Xanex? An Ativan? My doc thinks he has me figured out, but my party daze are for the most part long-gone...there surely was a time I would share and "abuse" the meds, but not now...my parties are Bubba & I watching videos. I WOULD BE STINGY AND NOT SHARE-and that is not my usual behavior! I call my blog Sharecher as that is one of the traits my Mom successfully instilled in me. I share by nature. And my Dad's teachings along that line("Is everybody HAPPY?") just reinforced my sharing inclinations... but I swear...if the doc(s) would just relent... I have changed. I'm going through with my rounds today, but my nerves are jello...I guess this is my karma for good-naturedly "abusing" prescriptiondrugs in my past. More than once, I was accused of trying to "buy" my friends. Geez! You simply cannot escape karma...even when I thought I was doing something good by sharing, I have now learned how bad I was. How can I get through this day? I mean. I know I will, but I dunno how. I am physically affected today by last night's bad dreams...I 've had coffe & oatmeal...going for green tea and a shower after "CBS Sunday Morning" and heir piece on John Fogarty's comeback ( I saw him play w/ The Dead for a" Day On The Green " in Oakland. So fine!), but my brain is physically, unpleasantly actually "buzzing" his AM. It is raining and so cold this morning in Indiana, and there is a 70% chance of it continuing all the live long day. Even the doc I paid $5,000 to, and still owe $5,000 to, for two partially effective pain blocks won't give me meds for days like this... I will survive the remains of the day. I won't drink liquor(tho I'd really enjoy any relaxing effects that it may temporarily provide, with the rain & the stress=1 HUGE OFF DA CHARTS MIGRAINE)...no, boys & girls I will not drink but GEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZ...my nerves are so shot. I know that I am doing this to myself. But, the buzzing in my brain, the erratic breathing that I must conciously continually control...the facsade I must put forward to not worry folks on my rounds today...driving>2 hrs altogether to go from place to place, then home...I dunno how I will survive, but I will. and I will pray for no night terrors tonite.

Bubba & I are watching "The Fugitive", again...it is a great one. I am so nervous. Been that way all week, inventory, and now, tomorrow, gotta make the rounds with the friends, folks & family...you may have heard me remark on the drill...I'm skeert. Step Mom Rene is so outta her head...constantly accusing my 82 yr old father of sleeping with other women in the bed next to her..the head nurse(no jokes), the minister's wife, the nurse's aides...she's always been like that. Untrusting. Maybe cuz she was Mom's best friend when she was sleeping with my Dad back in the day. I dunno. Maybe they used to "swing." She is now, a withered, pained, sad old harpie..and Dad, always pleading w/her to get it together, and all the crying... And I love my Mom, and while the Paxil keeps her mellow, all she really wants is cigarettes. I missed last Sunday (thanks for the support, gang, by the way). I have to go tomorrow. It isn't getting any easier...later daze. So glad to have y'all on my side. Bubba time, now.

We were joking around to pass the time, on the day before Thanksgiving, waiting to conduct our banking transactions, and caught up in a long line of folks that snaked their way past the doors and into the cold. Only two tellers had open windows, and one was occupied by a couple who only spoke Spanish, and a new employee who didn't. My new buddy's uniform shirt told me his name was "Jim," I didn't really know him, but we were both sociable folks and spent the time talking & laughing. For roughly 40 minutes worth of time, we inched our way forward, as essentially only one teller was serving the rest of the crowd. I was making my meager attempts to do all the paper work I would need to have completed in order to expedite my banking opportunity, once it had finally presented itself, when I noticed my car keys were not in my coatpockets. Nor were they in the pockets of my smock or slacks, nor were they in my in my purse. I have three sets of keys to manage for my job. Considering my frequent inclinations to space out, I figured that perhaps the missing keys were still in my car, and all would be well, once I got out of the bank and back on my merry way. Finally finished, I hurried back to my car through the light snow and frigid wind. No car keys. Not in the ignition, not on the floor, not on the pavement. Mr. Jimmy tried to help me find them, but gave up and had to leave. Seriously stressing, I retraced my steps into the bank with a frantic, worried expression on my face, and right away heard three people asking if I had lost my keys. It was all a blur, but they were the words I needed to hear, and I recognized my purple carribeaner that connected all of my personal keys, and exclaimed "Oh, Yes Thank You, thank you so much. This is great, oh! Now it WILL be a Happy Thanksgiving...Happpy Holidays, thank you!" The keys were extremely warm when whoever it was pressed them into my hand. Hmmmm...the warmth seemed to indicate that someone had been holding them for quite some time standing in that long line, and immediately, I wondered why no one had spoken up and asked if some one had dropped their keys. I hadn't gone three steps towards the door, when I stopped in my tracks. My little purple Greatful Dead Dancing Bear key ring was not attached to the rest of the keys...just the carribeaner was there telling me that that these were mine. All the keys seemed to be there, but no purple bear. It was a gift a few Christmases ago, from my young Deadhead friend, Myra. It had sentimental value only, as it had been tossed and lost by me countless times since over the years. Now, I was conflicted. I had already been stressed out, and created a minor scene in the bank, and I dearly wanted to be on my way...but evidently, whoever it was that had found my keys, had stood in line behind me, methodically working the little bear off the rest of the key ring-that's why they were so warm to the touch, and that's why no one had spoken up immediately after picking them up. And then I remembered my role-model, Maude. She would take and subsequently leave any car she desired with a universal set of keys she had acquired from a friend. Her set only" required some variations for the newer models." She wasn't stealing the cars, she explained to Harold, just "serving as a gentle reminder" to "not get attached to things." I turned back to look at the crowd, and whoever the culprit was must have held their breath for that moment. Yet, all I said was "Happy Holidays" to the blur of folks in line. I missed the lil bear already, but it was, after all, just a thing. And if they wanted that key ring that bad, then I should let them have it. Having the keys was the important thing. As I started to leave, again, I began to laugh aloud. I laughed all the way to the car, where I started it, and turned up the heater. I was still laughing when I called 2 friends on my cell to tell them what I was laughing so much about. They didn't get it. What was so funny? "Oh , Honey! They can have the bear and the bad karma that goes with stealing it, if they want it that bad," I told them. And I swear when I turned up the radio Mick was sympathizing with my situation, letting me know, once again, that "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you get what you need..." I'm still laughing.

Yes, Virginia, opposites do attract. Don't as me why, but it works for us. Music bothers Bubba. I don't think he was ever really introduced to it as a child(none of his family really cares too much about music, one way or the other.)Then, 30 years working in a loud factory constructing engines has affected his tempanic membrane adversely. He has tinnitus, and all music just sounds like a bunch of noise to him-an irritant to his nervous system. He does have a favorite song, "Everything is Beautiful In It's Own Way", by Ray Stevens, but he really does not want to listen to it right now, thanks, or any other time, for that matter. I suspect that it is just his "token" favorite song...he's got to be feeling some void regarding the wonders of music, but he just does not get it, and you can't miss what you never had. We compromise, I wear headphones when I'm jonesing for tunes, but rarely play music aloud when he is around. We watch too much TV together and we enjoy it. Except, I do have a lil bit of a rough time as he is a champion channel surfer, and the fact that we only have 7 channels to choose from, does not deter him from continuously surfing the seven. That's why I have a tube in the bedroom, lots of DVDs, a king size bed w/a Bubba-built add-on throne for Princess Peggy Sue, a mutitude of pillows, and the only spot in the house where I can access dial-up for my trusty laptop. I am never bored, there is always something to do, or procrastinate doing. Bubba has to be busy, usually constucting something, or working on the house, or keeping the cars & trucks(2 ea) running. Dialogue in movies bores him...perhaps some more hearing difficultis...if a DVD has too much dialogue, he's up and gone accomplishing something. We both love to watch "House" which is mainly dialouge, but the rapport is reminiscent of a modern-day "MASH", and even Bubba's got respect for classical quips. All that being said, Bubba watches a lot of PBS...(I like it too, but enough with the surfing, already!). He watches a surprising amount of PBS while surfing, and one Saturday he stumbled on to "The Red Green Show", and we both just cracked up over this classic Canadian comedy. We are strange, that way...Red Green is a middle-aged manly man utiilizing his eccentricities as a slap-stick, tongue-in-cheek comedy vehicle...you gotta see it to get it, and even then, it's all a matter of your perception. Red Green likes to invent things utilizing "the handy-man's secret weapon"-lots of duct tape. From this TV show, Bubba got the bright idea of duct-taping 2 push lawn mowers together with a coule of rebars for stabilization between the mowers(Bubba asks that I warn y'all he's got a patent pending). He enjoys mowing the lawn, and this is 2 1/2 summers he has used his "Double Push Mower" on our lil green acre, much to the amusement of the neighborhood. Folks have been known to stop and take pictures. It's quite a work out to push two mowers at one time, but, boy-howdy! It keeps the boy in shape...I BS you, not! We have both memorized "The Man's Prayer" from Red Green's lodge meetings,"I'm a man,but I can change, if I have to. I guess." He incorporates the "prayer" into many of our conversations, both of us knowing full-well, that the only changing he will ever do will be something that sneaks up on him. I sure as heck don't want to change him. And he loves me the way I am. He never objects if I go to see Santana or Hookahville...he even bought me a port-o-pottie for me to take on the 3-day camping wkends bi-annually that Ohio's infamous Acoustic Hookah hosts. All Bubba asks is that he does not have to go along, and that I keep in touch if delayed or in trouble. Even though I've quit drinking, Bubba does know that from time to time I do indulge in an illegal smile. He asks that I not indulge when he is around, and that I keep us both out of trouble when indulging. He asks that I keep a low profile, and that has never been a problem for me, in fact it has always been a goal. Bubba married his high-school sweetheart, they had 2 boys, and were married for 23 years,(like my Mom & Dad were.) When the boys were old enough to leave the nest, his ex wanted to leave the nest, as well. She left him. I dunno why-he never talks about her, good or bad. At family functions he never makes eye contact with her, nor ever says word one to her.OK...here's the best part...I am the only other woman Bubba has" known", in the Bibical sense of the word. What'd I tell ya? Opposites do attract! I know he will always be true to me, and believe you,me-I ain't never doing nada to endanger our love. We have lived together for 13 happy years. I'd marry him in a New York minute, but Bubba feels the surest way for us to get divorced is for us to get married. "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you get what you need...."My sometime is now.