I shouldn't be doing this.

I'm supposed to be cleaning my house right now, but I thought I would drop a little note to try to get some things down. My boss sent me an email last night in response to the one I sent her telling her I was done. She seems surprised that I would feel that way, blah blah blah. I feel guilty now, but at the same time, still upset. She says she wanted to hear it from me that I was leaving and what was going on, but yet she never called me. She says Judy was making things up and why did I listen to her when I know she makes things up. Well, unless she's psychic, she didn't make it up that Buffi told her I was leaving, because how else would she know? And since Buffi wasn't calling me herself to talk about something I think SHOULD be pretty important, I could only go by what Judy said. I would never have believed half of what she was telling me if Buffi had only called to talk to me herself. If Buffi knows, (and she does, because she told me) that Judy is nuts and makes things up, then why would she rely on her to find out about my quitting and pass things on to me? Why is Judy getting a pass on every stupid thing she does, and I get left in the dark? I'll tell you why, it's because Judy doesn't have kids, and she'll come in whenever Buffi says. She'll grumble and cry and threaten to quit, but she still does. I come in all the time too, but I have refused several times to come in on nights and weekends. The thing of it is, is that even if I didn't have kids, or I always had a babysitter, what makes her think that I always have nothing better to do? I don't make enough at that job to justify being on call. Or to be the manager. Buffi always says she doesn't want another manager besides just her. But she won't BE the manager. She doesn't like it, and she makes everyone else do it. Someone has to be the manager. Someone has to be on call, and make the schedule, and if it's not going to be her then she needs to buck up and hire someone else to do it for her. I shouldn't have been enabling her as much as I was, but I was always kind of hoping in the back of my mind that she'd see what I was doing and make it official. That's not going to happen, and I'm not going to wait around any longer. She thinks I owe her because I got two weeks off for my surgery in January. Funny, I got one day off for my surgery in March, and that was the day OF the surgery. I worked the next 6 days in a row! It's ludicrous and I'm done.

I'm going over there to talk to her today, and my mom wants me to work out the week, but I don't know. I don't want to burn any bridges, but the thought of going back there makes me physically ill.

That is slightly depressing.

Okay, I just googled my name, and you would not believe how many thing came up. Allison Hill is apparently a (bad) neighborhood in PA, an artist, sculptor, finance manager, a photographer, and who knows what else. Allison Wells is a classical singer, a kindergarten teacher, an author, and a 16 year old girl in Hawaii. It's kind of a lot to live up to--I'm going to have to work hard to get my name up there with all the rest of them. If you google my brother he's the first one to come up--however, this is kind of cheating because he has his own website that's CALLED robisonwells.com. And of course, the computer thinks you spelled it wrong.

I don't remember why I just googled my name, except that I'm trying to keep my mind off the job I just left. It doesn't matter, I have a new job, a BETTER job, but it still sends me into a panic to quit--especially when people are so immature about it. Why do people take things so personally? I'm quitting for better pay and better hours, something I accept I'm not going to find in the B&B industry as a whole (until I own my own, of course). I gave notice, I did everything I should have done, and yet my boss is being a baby about it. Maybe it's okay, because now I don't feel guilty about finding another job--instead I'm relieved to be getting out of what is obviously a messed up place. It's the final insult though, because I've been defending my job to my family for months now. Everytime I had to work weird hours, or no hours at all, and my husband or my mom would say, "why do you put up with this? This isn't what your job is supposed to be!" or "I just saw that you could work at McDonalds for more money than you're making." And I defend it, every time. And this is what I get. It makes me sick.

I need to get my mind off it now though, because it's over. Maybe I'll watch Doctor Who...that usually helps.

Underappreciated...at least by me

So, do you want to know the best word in the world? Here it is: Benign. Yup. Here's another good one: fibro adenoma. To start at the beginning, I had a lump removed from my right breast last friday. They had to remove it because it was too big to biopsy. Think about that one for a minute. It's too BIG to stick a needle into. But it makes sense if you think about it, because one part could be benign while the rest is a raging inferno of nastiness. So I had it removed. Let me paint you a picture.

There I am in the little room in my cute little gown and socks with the little sticky stuff on the bottom. A guy comes in to draw blood. Does he start an IV at the same time to limit the amount of poking I will undergo? Of course not. And it hurt. So then a girl comes in whom I met at my first visit to the surgeon two weeks prior when this chickie was on her surgical rotation. Apparently now she's on her anesthesia rotation, and jumped at the chance to start my IV. The first thing she did was numb the skin--which I have learned is a very bad sign because it indicates that they don't know what they're doing. And I was right. She poked around for a while and then did something extremely painful and started to laugh. I looked over and she had blown the vein. There was a HUGE ridgey lump on my hand where my vein should be. She held gauze on it to stop the (external) bleeding, and proceded to laugh and show the other people in the room how funny that was. I don't need to tell you I was not pleased by this. It hurt so bad that I was starting to get a little woozy, and my mom turned to this girl and said, "how many IVs have you started in your life, 3?" She stopped laughing. The next guy didn't seem any more competent at the outset but he did get the needle in first try and it didn't bruise.

Then they took me in the operating room. This sucked so bad, I don't even have words to describe it. They put a blanket over my face and tied my arms down (which was good because I could feel them keep trying to move down and "help") and injected the local. They did give me some happy drugs at the beginning because I remember dozing off a few times. But then they wore off and I remember everything after that. I think I've watched way too many medical shows because I understood way more of what was happening than I wanted to. When the doctor finished and left the nurse to close they started bickering about the proper way to close, "I like to do it this way with a little wrinkle, but Dr. Neumeyer doesn't like that. She's never here when I close so I do it my way anyway." "I like her way of doing it, don't you think you should use an extra stitch there?" "no, it's good, I've done hundreds of these" and on and on and on. By the time I got back to my mom I was so ready to go home and get away from that place. I cried all through the surgery and didn't stop until my mom took me home.

But on the bright side, I am done with it, and they called today and said it was a totally benign fibro adenoma. I have a very orange/purple/green/red bruise where I can't show people, and a dark purple/green bruise covering the back of my hand. Yeah, it's really funny, isn't it.

You know, when you're preparing for this surgery, they tell you how easy it is because it's not into a muscle or organ, so the recovery is really easy. But I don't think the average person realizes how often they use that part of their body on a daily basis. Tearing off a paper towel from the roll, carrying more than two things, bumping into doors, folding laundry (if you can't figure that one out I'm not going to explain it to you), etc. I'm sure I for one, will not be taking those things for granted any more!

Slurpees

My husband won't buy me slurpees anymore. He says that just because I never finish them, I shouldn't get them in the first place. It's really not fair, because he always buys the ones with fake sugar. Gross. So of course I can't finish them, because they're gross. Last time he went to get some, he called me from Sev to ask what flavor I wanted if I didn't like what he picked. He was absolutely astounded that I wanted Coke. Huh? This from the man who practically had to go into rehab to get off the Cola, is amazed that I would want a Coke slurpee. Go fig.

I was looking for a job in Columbus today, and it's looking hairy. There's tons of jobs, that's not the problem, the problem is that I don't know anything about them. When you're looking for work, you weed through the ads looking for places you like, that you trust, that you would feel comfortable telling people you work there. But in a city I've never even visited, what do I do? I don't know the neighborhoods, or the businesses' reputation. It's a total crap shoot, and I don't like it.

I'm not going to write a long blog because the new season of Ghost Hunters is on. ^_^

Cogito Ergo Sum

You're probably wondering why I have called you all together. I have decided that in light of the coming life-changing event that is soon to, you know, change lives, I should record the process. And what better way to record the personal issues of my family than on the internet!

I'll start at the beginning for those of you coming in late. My husband Chris is graduating from the U in May. This is a big deal because he's getting TWO bachelor degrees with honors and all sorts of nifty things, including a "Stole of Gratitude". This sounds a lot like the "Penguin of Knowledge" but stick with me here. It's a very pretty sash you wear around your neck that means basically nothing. You buy it yourself if you want one, but then after you graduate you're supposed to give it to someone you are grateful to--a family member, friend, etc who has supported you in some meaningful way. It's kind of like a gameball. My husband decided he's going to wear one and give it to me--which doesn't mean the sweet thing you're thinking it does--if he gives it to me he gets to keep it himself. Anyway, he's graduating and then he's going to grad school. He's been accepted to The Ohio State University so unless Pittsburgh throws tons of money at him we're moving to Columbus in August.

I'm actually pretty excited to finally know where we're going. We've been talking about this move in very vague, general terms, but now we know exactly where we're going which changes everything. Now I can research schools for Zoe and jobs for myself and get moving quotes and find a house. Ah, house. There's the rub. I have no idea what we're going to do. I do NOT want to go back to living in an apartment again, so we need to find a house to rent. But it's silly to rent a house and not get any equity out of it, so we'd love to buy a house but that's not going to happen. Rent to own might be an option--we'll have to see.

I feel like I have one foot in both places. I'm trying to get that life set up and ready to occupy, while trying to have as much fun as I can here before I leave and never come back. I grew up in Salt Lake, and I think it's beautiful--and of course, familiar. But on the other hand I'm really excited to do something new. The only time in my life I've lived more than 5 miles away from my mother was my senior year of high school when she sent me to Tuacahn in St. George. That was only 9 months, and only 300 miles away and I had a car...and you know, I look back at that time in my life and I have no idea how I came out of it alive. You'd think that I did a lot of stupid things, and don't get me wrong, I did, but I did molly-mormon stupid things. I stayed up way too late and ate too much junk food and drove too fast and kissed THREE boys. It's after I came back that I started the really stupid things--but that's another story. I do wish that I hadn't gone on a credibility destroying rampage the second I got home...

That paragraph kind of got away from me, but the point I was trying to make is that now that I'm at a ripe old age I know that my mother is not only much smarter than I am, but MUCH more capable, and I'm scared silly to move away from her. Luckily I have two incredibly cute kids so she'll have to come visit me all the time if only to see them.

So I'm going to spend the next 5 months having as much Utah fun as I can, which I can only assume involves green jello and sing-alongs.