Weird title, I know. But I can't begin to tell you what it means to me. I'm 31 years old. When I was 16, riding around cruising the streets of the city, I thought it would be cool to be 'like' my friend -- light up a cigarette and be cool. Like a fool, I had disregarded the fact that I had chronic bronchitis from a young age and asthma that had almost disappeared by the time I was 15 -- and I STILL picked up smoking. Hindsight truly is 20/20.
For the last 16 years, I was bound by the addictive qualities of tobacco. I would not have ever considered myself addicted because I always thought, "I can quit whenever I want... I just don't want to quit right now." Boy was I wrong. I tried quitting when I was 18 -- made it a couple weeks. Little did I know that would be the longest I would ever make it... Until now. Over the course of the years, I had smoked more than 54,204 cigarettes. (9 X 365 X 16.5) <-- for the Math fans out there!
I smoked through 4 pregnancies, risking my babies for that rush of satisfaction from a nice, sweet pull from a cancerous stick of temporary pleasure. Risking my ability to breathe, my ability to taste, to smell. Risking 7 minutes of my life for every cigarette I smoked -- and in my defense: I only smoked 9 cigarettes a day. Technically less than a half a pack a day. I knew smokers who hit the 3pack/day mark. I wasn't addicted. I was a casual smoker. I didn't smoke in the house. I never smoked in the house. I always went outside. But that didn't mean anything to my lungs. Like I was somehow lessening the fact that smoke was dangerous if I was mixing it with fresh air as opposed to 'recirculated indoor air'. I would never light a cigarette and put it down to do something else. I would finish my cigarette and then go back to what I was doing. Sometimes, I would push myself... If I was in the middle of a project, I would encourage myself to finish the project and then enjoy the smoke... But I was really finishing 'myself' -- that smoke was the polish to my casket.
Until one day in May of 2011. I had awoke that morning feeling sluggish. You know that feverish-body aching-god help me through the day mornings where you didn't want to do anything but stay in bed because even your skin hurt. I could handle all that. What I could not handle was not being able to breathe. I could not talk or catch my breath. I could not stop coughing, literally. Every breath in was followed by a hacking session, and every breath out, the same. Around noon, I thought I felt better and so like any smoker who is addicted, I ventured outside to get a drag. Bad idea. Coughing subsided, but the headache was horrible. Back inside, I felt chilled again, so I went back to bed. By midnight I was even more miserable. I had a temperature of 102. To many, that is barely a fever. But a person with low body temperature that is 'normally' 94, 102 is like 106 for others. And the coughing had returned with a vengeance.
Having four children and fearing I had contracted pneumonia or something worse (I was working in a childcare based medical facility), I drove myself to the local emergency room. Managing to make it through the initial triage, I am told my pulse/oxygen is 93. Well, that can't be good!?! Waiting to get called back to the treatment room, I start thinking about how people inflict pain on the people they care about. My brief thoughts of self-induced narcissism develop and disappear before I can process my next thought. "What if I die?"
That is not something I like to think about because depressing thoughts are the death of life, not being buried 6 feet under. When you are depressed, you are truly cheating yourself. Being buried is what happens after you've lived. Being the optimistic that I am, I start thinking about good things, only to be brought back to that previous thought, "What if I die?"... Who would help my husband take care of my babies? Who would take care of my husband? How would someone explain to my children how much I love them? Who would help my 85 year old grandmother when she needed someone to call the cable/phone company because she misplaced her payment to them? Who would pay for my burial? How would anyone delete all my stuff online? Would I go to heaven? Some thoughts were a little superficial and dramatic, but my thoughts, nevertheless.
Going through the medical examination, I kept letting those thoughts creep back up. And then, like any Scorpio with a thirst for success, I decided then and there, I would not let those thoughts have a reason to creep up ever again. After a painful breathing shot in the subcutaneous tissue of my stomach and two breathing treatments and 6 damn prescription medications, I drive myself home, with one thought on my mind: Am I ever going to taste a cigarette again? After all that, I still thought about a cigarette. But I was still determined to beat this addiction.
Arriving home just in time to see my children get on the school bus, I explain to my husband what the doctor said and tell him (he's a smoker/dipper) that I've decided to get help. I tell him I am going to stop smoking and I need his support. He said OK. Now, keep in mind, we've both tried quitting before and we both know how I am when I have cravings for a cigarette! BITCH DEVIL INCARNATE! So we both knew this was going to be hard. But it was nothing like I anticipated.
Getting online, I found the quit smoking website and phone number for my state. (You can find it as well, just google "quit smoking in _________ "). I took a deep breath (immediately followed by a 2 minute coughing session, which reassured me I was doing the right thing) and made the call. I was greeted by a friendly voice who helped me register, offered me medication to help curb the cravings and was told I could call ANYTIME I needed to for support. The entire process took about 20 minutes. I had a quit date set, a quit coach hot line and a website for additional information. I followed the instructions, which were basically, track my smoking habits for 1 week. Keep a journal/record of when I smoke more, where I'm at, what I'm doing, etc. when I smoke a cigarette. Simple enough. And was I surprised.
After meals was the strongest cravings. Agitated/angry moods were the fastest smokes with the most 'chain smoking' sessions. Stressful situations were the slowest smokes with the most times smoking (and my job was VERY stressful, so I smoked a lot when I was off work). After sex, driving, talking on the phone all had me with a cigarette in my hand. One week later, my patches, quit guide and ally guide arrived in the mail. And the following day, my brother overdosed -- Talk about stress! Luckily, I had not reached my quit date so I was OK. But my lungs were still very tender from coughing. I used my inhaler nearly 6 times a day. And I was still smoking. I still couldn't taste anything because of the severity of the sinus infection that came with the Chronic Bronchitis and bronchiospams the doctor had diagnosed me with. Still, I was determined that June 10th would be my quit date, come hell or high water... And I was hoping I could do it.
My husband read the ally guide and came to me with three questions.
1.) Are you sure you WANT to quit?
2.) What should I do if you ask me for a cigarette?
3.) What can I do to show you I support you?
Now, being a bookworm, I did not really take into account the ally book. I think it's great they sent it, but I didn't read it -- I'm my worst enemy, I do not find ME to be an ally to myself. I did read and use the Quit Now book. It helped me to better understand triggers and learn coping strategies.
June 10th arrives and I think, I can't quit. I can't do it. I don't know if I am strong enough. But that night, at 11:30pm, I went outside, still unable to taste a damn thing, and smoked what would be my last cigarette. And said goodbye to a 'friend', an 'acquaintance', a 'shoulder' and an 'chain'.
June 11th, I put on my new best friend. My 21 mg. Nicotine patch... and for the next 8 weeks, I would slowly lower the Mg's to 7, finishing on August 5th and being completely Nicotine free. The first day without a patch was scary. I kept seeing myself freaking out like I did when I had quit smoking before, not having the nicotine to keep me afloat. The second day was much much harder. I had managed to temporarily alienate my entire family, warning them that nicotine deprivation was something akin to PMS only worse -- they ran for cover! The third day was completely easy. No anger, no stress, no creepy thoughts. I swear it was like I had a patch on again... and every day since then has been the same way. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a little more on edge in that agitating sounds really push my buttons a lot easier. I have a lower tolerance for bullshit or drama. And I deal with those issues a different way.
You've all heard the song, "Pray for you" by Jaron and the Long Road to Love. I laugh every time I hear that song because it is completely WRONG for any time of prayers... but it makes me laugh all the same. When I'm pissed, I come to my bedroom, close the door and turn that song up just as loud as I can get my computer to play it. The speakers whine from pain, but I sing it just as loud as I can... and by the time the song is over, I feel better. I suppose, masochistically, I'm singing those lyrics to Nicotine.
When all else fails, depend on Psychology. I'm a college student minoring in Psych. and cognitive behavioral therapy, while sounding completely dull and boring really helped me. The basis of this theory of learning is that we think a behavior. Well, I would 'think' about cigarettes in my 8 weeks of quitting smoking. Not for long, but it bothered me that I would think about them. I would dream about them, too. And that really can dampen your 'successful spirits'. So, like any person wanting to change that thought process, I bought a rubber band. Large enough to fit my wrist, but small enough that it wouldn't fall off. Every time I thought about a cigarette, whether it was smoking it, smelling it, seeing it in my mind, or seeing someone else smoking, I would snap the rubber band.
thought + snap + pain = training the brain to recognize those images and thoughts as painful. The product: a reconstructed thought process that eliminates smoking thoughts as frequently.
It was not easy, but it wasn't hard. I still occasionally think about those damn things, but it's a hate thought, not a reminiscing thought. I can't stand the smell of a cigarette. I can't stand the look of a cigarette. I can't stand THEM!
And it's been 63 days of living for me... I've saved $75.00 and I've added 58.8 hours back to my life.
And you can do this, too! I can taste food. I can jog a half mile (30 second intervals/walking) and I can smell how wonderful and clean my house is after I clean it! Petty for some, BIG MILESTONE FOR ME! You can reach this milestone, too!
Feel free to contact me at lavonda_evans@hotmail.com if you need a friend to help you... Just put "friendly ally" in the subject bar.
It feels great to be able to say I'm a non-smoker. It feels great to have my independence back. It feels great (though the scales disagree) to enjoy food again. I've put on a couple pounds... and that I can deal with!
Until Tomorrow,
LaVonda
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
The Government Knows...
Good Morning fellow bloggers, readers and passers-by,
I shall not humor you with images of eye candy like the previous blogpost. I will not bore you nay-sayers with religious propoganda, nor will I feed your over-blown ego's with right wing/left wing extremist views of why religion is an issue at all. Today, I will tell you the government sucks big goose eggs and the majority of them have given the majority of us a greater reason to encourage educations -- "What do you want to be when you grow up?" "Answer: A politician!" **GASP** "
I shall not humor you with images of eye candy like the previous blogpost. I will not bore you nay-sayers with religious propoganda, nor will I feed your over-blown ego's with right wing/left wing extremist views of why religion is an issue at all. Today, I will tell you the government sucks big goose eggs and the majority of them have given the majority of us a greater reason to encourage educations -- "What do you want to be when you grow up?" "Answer: A politician!" **GASP** "
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Brand New Jones
Hello fellow bloggers, readers and passers-by,
After getting all the school shopping done and cleaning out the closets and baking and what not, I thought I would blog. But this wouldn't be a ranting blog, or a bitching blog, or a blog about death and destruction, or religion. This blog will be a dedication... A dedication to Hollywood and to the masses that flock to the theaters in droves to see the next big flick!
So for you, my readers, I bring you some new (and old) Jones!!!
Ready?
Donnie Wahlberg --
In closing, take a moment to reflect back to who you had a Jones for in elementary school. Bet you can still pick them out in a movie or on a set. Thank you Hollywood for the memories!
Until Tomorrow,
LaVonda
After getting all the school shopping done and cleaning out the closets and baking and what not, I thought I would blog. But this wouldn't be a ranting blog, or a bitching blog, or a blog about death and destruction, or religion. This blog will be a dedication... A dedication to Hollywood and to the masses that flock to the theaters in droves to see the next big flick!
So for you, my readers, I bring you some new (and old) Jones!!!
Ready?
Number 10. Eric Bana
Number 9. Channing Tatum
Number 8. George Clooney
Number 7. Nicholas Cage
Number 6. Ryan Kwanten
Number 5. Sam Elliot
Number 4. Matthew McConaughey
Number 3. Gerard Butler
Number 2. Tie: Robert Pattinson
Number 2. Tie: Taylor Lautner
And the winner is...
Donnie Wahlberg -- No ladies, it's not because he's sporting a gun and badge (though, ask me again in a little while...) He has been a hero of mine ever since 5th friggin grade when he was part of the boy band, New Kids On The Block... And he still has a little spot in my heart!
My favorite song! What a blast from the past!
In closing, take a moment to reflect back to who you had a Jones for in elementary school. Bet you can still pick them out in a movie or on a set. Thank you Hollywood for the memories!
Until Tomorrow,
LaVonda
Friday, August 5, 2011
Lack of Concern Where Concern Is Due...
I'm going to skip the intros because I'm so pissed right now I can't see straight. You all know I have four children and my children are my LIFE! And I entrust certain individuals to look after my children, specifically the Church my children go to. It's a local Pentecostal church in the city I live in. And when I trust them to watch after my children, I expect them to reciprocate a certain amount of concern. If I were watching their children, what would they expect of me? Tit for tat, right?
Well, apparently, several persons at the church they go to think it's OK to just disregard a parent. Blow them off as if they don't fucking matter! Well, FUCK THAT!
My children, aged 13, 10, and almost 7 have attended this church for nearly 2 years. In those two years they have participated in a number of functions, all under the "UMBRELLA" of the Pastor. Yes, I trust a preacher man... I USED to trust him.
Over the last three months, shady things have been happening at the church involving my children. For instance, during Church Youth Camp. Three days and three nights, my two oldest children were chaperoned by members of the same sex at the hotel in town. Why they rent a hotel rather than just meet up at the church everyday, I will never know. But they do. Women and girls in one room, men and boys in another. I do not have ONE problem with that. I do, however, have a problem when my daughter is told she will have a place to sleep, then all of a sudden, one of the women spill grape juice on my daughters side of the fucking bed, forcing her to sleep on the floor. OK... Accidents happen. But on night number two, one of the WOMEN... GROWN WOMEN, invited one of her friends to stay the night. This invited woman does NOT go to their church. Yet she was important enough to make my daughter sleep on the floor the next two nights as well. BULL SHIT! And to make matters worse, the invited woman started prank calling some GUY... Yeah, grown women and teen girls in the same room, and a GROWN woman prank calls a guy, as if it's funny or something. Are they not aware that teen girls are very impressionable and tend to look up to the elders of a church for guidance and model behavior. So I have to explain to my daughter when she arrives home that prank calls are immature and not in good taste. And I explain to her the right thing to do would be to tell the pastor. Pastors, like parents, do not ALWAYS know what's going on. A couple of weeks later, she tells me that she told the pastor and he said that behavior would not be happening anymore.
Second instance, my son, during youth camp, is at the water park with members of the church. But rather than getting wet at the water park in 99+ temperatures, he is made to play at the park with the equipment while the girls get to partake of the water elements. Then, without even a care or concern, I get a call from my son telling me that he was at the skate park riding some random person's skateboard and falls, knocking the air out of his lungs, bruising his elbow (about the size of a damn grapefruit) and scratching his back up. The church never called me. He called me and said, "If I look like I've been beat up, don't worry." Ummm, OK... WTF! More so, the adults were all under the pavillion, which is nearly 100 yards away from the skatepark. Granted, my son is 10 and could yell loud enough that he MIGHT draw attention if someone was taking off with him, but what about 'responsible adults' and their role in the events? Total lack of concern! I guess they think that abductions and child murders don't happen because in their delusional world full of holy ghosts and prayer that all children will be ok... Ummm, why don't they ask The Yates Children, or Caylee Anthony or the other 100,000+ children that are abducted/killed/sold how that whole Christian Belief is working for THEM! dammit!
Instance number 3... Oh yea, it gets better. My almost 7 year old started attending about 2 weeks ago. And in those two weeks he said he has a blast. I on the other hand find myself up at 11:21pm writing this fucking blog because the three of them were invited to a church party from 6pm to 9pm... and they JUST GOT HOME! They just walked through the FUCKING door! No call from anyone, except my youngest to tell me he's tired. Then, a woman gets on the phone and says, they will be home shortly. That was at 9:30... Ummm, where the hell is 'shortly' in 2 damned hours? I would hate to know what they consider a lengthy amount of time!
And to top it all off, I call the pastor at 11pm to inquire on the whereabouts of my children. His words, "I don't know." Let me fucking repeat that for you... "I DON'T KNOW"...
Ahem... let me calm down. FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!
He then tells me that he wasn't there tonight. Ummm, the pastor... wasn't there... at a church function... No, instead, the same WOMEN who were prank calling guys at Church camp were directing this shindig. OMFG!
Now I have to be the bad parent because I will not tolerate this church any longer. Their genuine neglect of my children has forced me to make the ultimate decision. I will not allow my children to attend that church any longer. I've had enough of their total lack of respect for me as a parent, their lack of respect for my children, who believe it or not, do get tired after a long day. I will, however, forgive them, because that is the christian thing to do... But I will not forget it. EVER! My children are my world and they better fucking believe that!
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
~L
Well, apparently, several persons at the church they go to think it's OK to just disregard a parent. Blow them off as if they don't fucking matter! Well, FUCK THAT!
My children, aged 13, 10, and almost 7 have attended this church for nearly 2 years. In those two years they have participated in a number of functions, all under the "UMBRELLA" of the Pastor. Yes, I trust a preacher man... I USED to trust him.
Over the last three months, shady things have been happening at the church involving my children. For instance, during Church Youth Camp. Three days and three nights, my two oldest children were chaperoned by members of the same sex at the hotel in town. Why they rent a hotel rather than just meet up at the church everyday, I will never know. But they do. Women and girls in one room, men and boys in another. I do not have ONE problem with that. I do, however, have a problem when my daughter is told she will have a place to sleep, then all of a sudden, one of the women spill grape juice on my daughters side of the fucking bed, forcing her to sleep on the floor. OK... Accidents happen. But on night number two, one of the WOMEN... GROWN WOMEN, invited one of her friends to stay the night. This invited woman does NOT go to their church. Yet she was important enough to make my daughter sleep on the floor the next two nights as well. BULL SHIT! And to make matters worse, the invited woman started prank calling some GUY... Yeah, grown women and teen girls in the same room, and a GROWN woman prank calls a guy, as if it's funny or something. Are they not aware that teen girls are very impressionable and tend to look up to the elders of a church for guidance and model behavior. So I have to explain to my daughter when she arrives home that prank calls are immature and not in good taste. And I explain to her the right thing to do would be to tell the pastor. Pastors, like parents, do not ALWAYS know what's going on. A couple of weeks later, she tells me that she told the pastor and he said that behavior would not be happening anymore.
Second instance, my son, during youth camp, is at the water park with members of the church. But rather than getting wet at the water park in 99+ temperatures, he is made to play at the park with the equipment while the girls get to partake of the water elements. Then, without even a care or concern, I get a call from my son telling me that he was at the skate park riding some random person's skateboard and falls, knocking the air out of his lungs, bruising his elbow (about the size of a damn grapefruit) and scratching his back up. The church never called me. He called me and said, "If I look like I've been beat up, don't worry." Ummm, OK... WTF! More so, the adults were all under the pavillion, which is nearly 100 yards away from the skatepark. Granted, my son is 10 and could yell loud enough that he MIGHT draw attention if someone was taking off with him, but what about 'responsible adults' and their role in the events? Total lack of concern! I guess they think that abductions and child murders don't happen because in their delusional world full of holy ghosts and prayer that all children will be ok... Ummm, why don't they ask The Yates Children, or Caylee Anthony or the other 100,000+ children that are abducted/killed/sold how that whole Christian Belief is working for THEM! dammit!
Instance number 3... Oh yea, it gets better. My almost 7 year old started attending about 2 weeks ago. And in those two weeks he said he has a blast. I on the other hand find myself up at 11:21pm writing this fucking blog because the three of them were invited to a church party from 6pm to 9pm... and they JUST GOT HOME! They just walked through the FUCKING door! No call from anyone, except my youngest to tell me he's tired. Then, a woman gets on the phone and says, they will be home shortly. That was at 9:30... Ummm, where the hell is 'shortly' in 2 damned hours? I would hate to know what they consider a lengthy amount of time!
And to top it all off, I call the pastor at 11pm to inquire on the whereabouts of my children. His words, "I don't know." Let me fucking repeat that for you... "I DON'T KNOW"...
Ahem... let me calm down. FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!
He then tells me that he wasn't there tonight. Ummm, the pastor... wasn't there... at a church function... No, instead, the same WOMEN who were prank calling guys at Church camp were directing this shindig. OMFG!
Now I have to be the bad parent because I will not tolerate this church any longer. Their genuine neglect of my children has forced me to make the ultimate decision. I will not allow my children to attend that church any longer. I've had enough of their total lack of respect for me as a parent, their lack of respect for my children, who believe it or not, do get tired after a long day. I will, however, forgive them, because that is the christian thing to do... But I will not forget it. EVER! My children are my world and they better fucking believe that!
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
~L
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
The End of the Nocturnal Era
Good Morning fellow bloggers, readers and passers-by,
This morning I sit before my computer with a head full of stuff. But cannot categorically put it all together. Rambles of this, tidbits of that. All perfectly coherent thoughts, but they are going so fast, it's hard for me to keep up with them. No, I'm not insane and to my knowledge, I'm not a victim of adult ADHD -- trust me, for that you have to be physically hyper and my weight tells me that I'm not so there!
Fell asleep last night on the couch around 7:30pm. I was tired and grandmother always told me, when your tired, you'll sleep. She never gave me a set bedtime no matter how hard it was for me to wake up the next morning. And until I hit Junior High School, I never really cared for a bedtime per se. However, those hard mornings were not pleasant so I made it a point to be in bed by 10:30pm every night. Why that particular time? Well, growing up, I didn't get the pleasures of cable TV in my room, much less color. But when I finally did get a hold of a b & w 13" with rabbit ears, you can bet your sweet bippy I would get my own daily dose of "Are You Being Served?" And it went of at 10:30pm. So there!
You should also know that I do NOT like taking medicine or pills of any kind. I am the type that will go for days with a headache before I take medication for it. But the habit I fell into as I aged would not be pleasant. The extra cups of coffee in the morning kept me going strong til around 3pm. Then I would bottom out. At first, I indulged in a cup of coffee in the afternoon, but that didn't really do it for me. So my trusty five hour 'bottle-o-crack' was a Godsend. However, those are pricey. Then I discovered a handy dandy vitamin: B12... Now this isn't your average vitamin. This sucker packs a punch with all the B vitamins, and the other vitamins and minerals that help 'activate' the b vitamins. Needless to say, I can go all day and (obviously) all night without wearing out.
But I fear the worst from this habit. I've never been an early riser. I've always gotten up around 8 or 9 unless something big was going on or I had plans. Nope, I'm very much nocturnal and I would much rather be out and about, or up working on something while everyone else sleeps. That is my 'thinking time'. And I've noticed more since I've stopped smoking that the time I have is like that bottomless bag you carry when you need a lot of stuff with you, but have to dump it all out to find that one little thing you need most of all: I can't find enough stuff to do to fill my time, and when I get ready to go to sleep, rather than put everything to rest until the next morning, my mind starts thinking about it.
I've written stuff down right before bed (like my psych books say to do, and of course, I've heard the best: Dr. Phil, Oprah and a gob of healthy living experts), who say to keep a pad and pencil by your bed. If you can't clear your head, write it down so you won't forget about and that helps you to be reassured so you can fall asleep... Ummm, used to work... Now... Not so much.
Because I don't want to jot it down. I want to start it and finish it all in one go. And I think that is my deal. It's not that I don't have patience, but that I would rather not procrastinate! *** GASP *** LaVonda! Say it isn't so! You of all people cannot be a procrastinator! :) Of course I can... and I 'was' really good at it. But something happened. I would love to just turn my brain off! I can look at laundry, dishes, housework, etc., and not give rip if it gets done. But the stuff in my head, I can't turn it off. And it's beginning to affect my sleep habits.
So, with my 1 of 2 only cups of coffee, I am going to finish up this post, check my email, double check my school info, then I'm off to talk to the laundry. I've been up since midnight. Maybe going to bed at 8 and waking up early wouldn't be too bad... After all, nothing is constant but change, and that even includes my habits!
Have a superflyingtacklepounce of a day!
Until tomorrow,
LaVonda
This morning I sit before my computer with a head full of stuff. But cannot categorically put it all together. Rambles of this, tidbits of that. All perfectly coherent thoughts, but they are going so fast, it's hard for me to keep up with them. No, I'm not insane and to my knowledge, I'm not a victim of adult ADHD -- trust me, for that you have to be physically hyper and my weight tells me that I'm not so there!
Fell asleep last night on the couch around 7:30pm. I was tired and grandmother always told me, when your tired, you'll sleep. She never gave me a set bedtime no matter how hard it was for me to wake up the next morning. And until I hit Junior High School, I never really cared for a bedtime per se. However, those hard mornings were not pleasant so I made it a point to be in bed by 10:30pm every night. Why that particular time? Well, growing up, I didn't get the pleasures of cable TV in my room, much less color. But when I finally did get a hold of a b & w 13" with rabbit ears, you can bet your sweet bippy I would get my own daily dose of "Are You Being Served?" And it went of at 10:30pm. So there!
You should also know that I do NOT like taking medicine or pills of any kind. I am the type that will go for days with a headache before I take medication for it. But the habit I fell into as I aged would not be pleasant. The extra cups of coffee in the morning kept me going strong til around 3pm. Then I would bottom out. At first, I indulged in a cup of coffee in the afternoon, but that didn't really do it for me. So my trusty five hour 'bottle-o-crack' was a Godsend. However, those are pricey. Then I discovered a handy dandy vitamin: B12... Now this isn't your average vitamin. This sucker packs a punch with all the B vitamins, and the other vitamins and minerals that help 'activate' the b vitamins. Needless to say, I can go all day and (obviously) all night without wearing out.
But I fear the worst from this habit. I've never been an early riser. I've always gotten up around 8 or 9 unless something big was going on or I had plans. Nope, I'm very much nocturnal and I would much rather be out and about, or up working on something while everyone else sleeps. That is my 'thinking time'. And I've noticed more since I've stopped smoking that the time I have is like that bottomless bag you carry when you need a lot of stuff with you, but have to dump it all out to find that one little thing you need most of all: I can't find enough stuff to do to fill my time, and when I get ready to go to sleep, rather than put everything to rest until the next morning, my mind starts thinking about it.
I've written stuff down right before bed (like my psych books say to do, and of course, I've heard the best: Dr. Phil, Oprah and a gob of healthy living experts), who say to keep a pad and pencil by your bed. If you can't clear your head, write it down so you won't forget about and that helps you to be reassured so you can fall asleep... Ummm, used to work... Now... Not so much.
Because I don't want to jot it down. I want to start it and finish it all in one go. And I think that is my deal. It's not that I don't have patience, but that I would rather not procrastinate! *** GASP *** LaVonda! Say it isn't so! You of all people cannot be a procrastinator! :) Of course I can... and I 'was' really good at it. But something happened. I would love to just turn my brain off! I can look at laundry, dishes, housework, etc., and not give rip if it gets done. But the stuff in my head, I can't turn it off. And it's beginning to affect my sleep habits.
So, with my 1 of 2 only cups of coffee, I am going to finish up this post, check my email, double check my school info, then I'm off to talk to the laundry. I've been up since midnight. Maybe going to bed at 8 and waking up early wouldn't be too bad... After all, nothing is constant but change, and that even includes my habits!
Have a superflyingtacklepounce of a day!
Until tomorrow,
LaVonda
Monday, August 1, 2011
Cracker Jack Government
Hello fellow bloggers, readers and passers-by,
When I was in high school, my civics teacher taught me a lot. But the one thing I remember is that in politics, you don't get anything for free. Politics is best defined as 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours'. But you see readers, my back isn't itching. I don't want them to touch me. I don't want them to think about touching me. I don't want them to pass a bill that says they are thinking about touching me. I want them to leave me the hell alone. (End rant).
You've all heard of Ponzi right? The greatest pyramid scheme and efficiently named from the master mind behind it. People pay in, pay in, pay in, then when it's time for them to get their money, oops, sorry, it's not there anymore! Ummm, social security, anyone? Anyone? For years I've been asking myself, how in the hell did this thing pass? Then, like all wonderful self-realizing epiphanies, it hit me. The government passed it because they seen how well it worked for Ponzi. But that is until this generation came along. See, we are the righter's of wrong when it comes to our government. We are not stupid. We are not dumb. We are the call it like we see it generation. And I'm calling bull shit! There is no way on God's green earth, with ALL the money that is paid in by working people, on a weekly, bi-monthly, and monthly level to have a feeling the money is going to 'run out'. Unless someone has had their hands in the damn cookie jar!
Enter: Epiphany #2... The government, with all their greedy, sneaky, conniving, manipulating, open hands out, they took what they wanted. Government+money=power... But, giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys -- they are going to get in trouble! And they have. This whole debt limit, we won't agree, kiss my ass bullshit has to end.
I sat down Saturday night, dark thirty, flipping through the channels after everyone else had went to bed. I seen infomercials on skin care products, Trojan - whip your hair back - vibes, hold-your-stomach-in underwear, get-it-up male enhancers, fountain-of-youth make-up and the list goes on and on and on. Then I landed on Cspan. Yes, that channel you NEVER watch because all you see are political jackasses wearing suits pretending to do something beneficial, the whole while, they are sitting behind a desk scratching their balls like George does his head, right before he realizes that tree's don't move! Needless to say, it was boring as hell!
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