Skip to main content

Boeing is keeping me up at night

I went to sleep around 11 or so last night. I woke up around 2 and never went back to bed. I couldn't.

Couldn't sleep, couldn't turn my brain off.....just couldn't.

I watched tv. I was going to read but there wasn't enough light in the living room and I couldn't read in bed because that would have woken Lance up. Mind numbing tv.

There really isn't anything good on during that time period. Have you ever noticed that? Most are paid programming for kitchen gadgets you can't live without, exercise machines you need after you get the kitchen gadgets and eat yourself into a coma and ads for making millions on real estate etc.

So I lost a few brain cells.

My Dad got up around 5 or so. He put the leash on the beagle and went out to walk her. Not before he sat and talked to me and brought on more tears from me. Not sure he noticed since it was dark in the living room. He came back into the house and asked me if Lance was on picket duty.

Nooooooo, he wasn't. Why?

Well, because our car was missing.

Proverbial last straw.

Who on earth would steal an ancient KIA????

I lost it. I mean, it's not like I loved that car but it gets good gas mileage, it's useful because we spend our lives in the car driving kids to school and church and picking them up from school and....well, you get the idea.

I just lost it.

I went upstairs to tell Lance the car was gone.

Poor thing, just what he needed. A sobbing wife at 5:30 in the morning, babbling incoherently in his ear. He got up, said he'd had to park the car in a different part of the street because there had been no parking in front of the house when he got home last night. He went and showed me where the car was parked.

No stolen car.

Maybe the Lord knew I simply needed a good, therapeutic, hysterical cry-fest.

Cuz yeah. I had one.


  1. "Boeing is keeping me up at night"
    I wouldn't know about that - I've never boed.

  2. wow, i would have been in full blown panic mode! It would have been a very big final straw on my back with all the icky goings on down here!

  3. Wish there was something I could do.

    I could go round and throw a brick through Vicus' window, if that would help?

  4. Boeing, Boeing, BONG!

    You need some good news, or a BONG!

    Grey skies are gonna clear up..

  5. vicus---I highly reccomend it.

    Rebecca---I know. I wasn't panicked as much as I was...hysterical.

    Dave dear, tossing a brick though vicus' window would seriously elevate my mood! I'd want pictures of course.

    Donnnnnn---good news would be wonderful. Boeing is going back to the table today, so hopefully that means going back to work is a possibility.

  6. I hope that cry cleansed your system for a bit. I had one of those last Sunday and I'm not even going through the stress of the Boeing strike. I'm glad the car was just in a different spot. Like you need to add "stolen car" to your list.


Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

Elderly Abuse

I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.

The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…

I'll Love You Forever, I'll Like You For Always...

I rely on the kindness of strangers...

Or not so much strangers as readers of my miserable blog.

I received a beautiful card in the mail from my long-tine reader (perhaps my ONLY reader) that lifted my heart. Thank you, G. Parkes. It was kind of you to think of me. Seriously---you are so sweet. Thank you.

Perhaps we can meet in person one day. I'll be in Utah after Conference. We'll see how it goes.

I've been caring for my autistic grandson since July. It seems longer sometimes---and that's not a complaint. I adore this little man. He holds my heart. He fills my arms and my heart in the way that my own small babies used to do. When mine reached the age where they didn't want to be in my arms any longer, I felt their absence. Their absence from my arms was heavier than actually having them in my arms. It was an ache that is difficult to describe, a phantom pain where something once was but now is no longer.

Before my husband and I went to the cabin th…