My friend k does this love/hate thing on her blog once in a while that seems like as good a way as any to express myself at the moment.
Love: That I am finally getting full-time hours at work, and even (this next schedule week) some overtime!
Hate: That 33.5 of those hours take place within a 48-hour period starting tomorrow (I don't know if that is even legal, nor am I interested in finding out, because we need the money and I will just manage...somehow).
Love: That I was able to shock and awe my boys earlier today, yes I am STILL feeling smug over that!
Hate: That I feel like I need to clarify, lest ye (and by "ye" I mean "people Stalky has sent over here") judge, that they do not play Mortal Kombat at MY house (the game they were playing during the argument in question was Mario Kart, I think--their father lets them play all SORTS of things I don't agree with, including, on one memorable occasion, Grand Theft Auto).
Love: That thanks to my being savvier on Social Media than she is, I am able to keep an eye on The Narcissist from afar.
Hate: That today, thanks to that, I found out I now have a close family history of breast cancer. Guess I'd better quit blowing off my OB/GYN, who I haven't seen since my hysterectomy (I still have a partial cervix, yes, but I've never had a questionable PAP smear and haven't had any new sexual partners since then, so didn't feel it was irresponsible to skip the co-pay. A close relative with breast cancer is a game-changer though, obviously).
Love: That, as several of you who know the sordid details have reminded me, Stalky is pretty much impotent these days. Back when custody of my children was not yet settled and Stalky knew where I worked she scared the shit out of me. Now the worst she can do* is tell lies about me on the innernet to strangers who, if they're listening to her, I probably wouldn't want to be friends with anyway. SO WHAT.
Hate: That I still get that visceral jolt of adrenaline when I find out she's still out there beating her crazy drum...IT HAS BEEN YEARS, S. MOVE ON ALREADY. SHEESH.
Love: That Hotter and I have brick-and-mortar friends who do things like come over with vodka the night this happened (yeah I never did spell it out on here, but I wasn't with Hotter in the hospital that time because HE DIDN'T WANT ME THERE...that is how the neurological event in question initially affected him; he didn't want a damn thing to do with me for a few hours until successful treatment began, and while I did spend nearly ten years in a marriage with a man who seemed to hate my guts most of the time, to the point that I was used to it, I have since lost that particular callous; that was the first time Hotter has EVER not treated me with love and kindness...and hopefully the last, because it GUTTED ME) (also relax, Stalky, the boys were with their father, I would never get drunk while solely in charge of my children), drive us to the oral surgeon (who, bizarrely, required my next-of-kin to be ON PREMISES to put me to sleep), lend me the money to get the general anesthesia, and come and take my sorry arse to the ER when I'm in no shape to drive and too cheap to call an ambulance. And those were four DIFFERENT friends! We are so lucky.
Hate: That none of those friends (except one, who I met VIA my blog six years ago, pre-Stalky) know about the blog, and I don't feel like I can discuss them here (such. good. stories.). Past bad experience with mixing blog-land and "real life" makes me verrrrry leery of doing so ever again (with certain notable exceptions such as the afore-mentioned k and Dr. Anon).
Love: That I am finally, FINALLY starting to feel normal-ish again (okay, so my jaw is still fairly sore, but that is to be expected, and I still have a productive cough and a husky voice but I'm not winded by a single flight of stairs...at least my blood pressure is out of the "corpse" range, and judging by how I feel, my Potassium level is, too).
Hate: That the coming work-a-thon will probably knock me back on my ass.
What are you loving and hating right now?
* Well, obviously she could do worse than that, seeing as how she knows where I live. But Stalky fancies herself to be quite the upright citizen, and I don't think she'd risk jail-time by doing any worse than talking smack on the innernet. Or at least I hope she wouldn't, for both our childrens' sake, and SHE had better hope in turn that I don't meet my end via foul play or she'd have all KINDS of uncomfortable questions to answer. I've made sure of that. So.