Monthly Archives: October 2009

Useless Information

Just so you know…

Today is National Disgusting Little Pumpkin-Shaped Candies Day.

disgusting pumpkin candy

Phun Photo Phriday


Phun Photo Phriday

Phone Homeless

Getting Old Isn’t For Sissies!

Two days after Mark broke his leg last April, I ended up flat on my back in severe pain. With lots of stretching and strengthening it started feeling better but never 100%.  Lately it’s been getting bad again and I’ve been walking around like I have a yardstick up my ass. Comparatively, I’d prefer the yardstick!

In addition to the back pain, my knee has been bothering me but I just chalked that up to the way I tuck my leg under my chair at work. Sometimes it throbs, sometimes not, but it is always tender to the touch.

So, I decided to go to the doctor.

Diagnosis for my back: muscle spasms in lumbar region with potential disc or nerve damage.

Diagnosis for my knee: bursitis, fluid and potential cartilage damage. (must be all those alleyway blow-jobs of my youth coming back to haunt me)

Treatment for both: physical therapy. I would have preferred pharmaceuticals and kneepads!

If the PT doesn’t fix me up, imaging is the next step. I don’t like that idea because it usually leads to surgery and I’ve had enough surgeries for one lifetime. The up side: I’ll be using the same PT clinic as Mark so he’ll have a workout partner. Of course we’ll probably fight over who gets the nice icepack.

Getting old sure isn’t for sissies!

Phun Photo Phriday

The Lord's Gym



When I returned to work after vacation in June I learned my boss, the founding director of our research center, was asked to step down.  As consolation they offered him the directorship of the burgeoning Global Health Center of which he’d been interim director for the past two years.

What would happen to me?

I don’t mean to sound uncaring, after all, I’ve been the big guy’s Executive Assistant for nearly a quarter of my life and we’ve built quite a bond, but the possibility of losing my job in this economic climate was more than a little disconcerting. I spoke with our Associate Director, our soon-to-be Interim Director and our Business Manager and was assured my job was in no danger. There is also great consolation in the fact I’m well respected by our faculty and a valuable asset to the Center.

Ultimately, my fate will lie in the hands of our future permanent Director.

“Turn and face the strain.”

Last week we transitioned but the university still hadn’t identified space for the big guy and his new Center so he’s still in his office, reached by passing through mine. Talk about fucking weird!

All these years my working days have been dictated by the big guy’s calendar, which is still in its box at my desk, yet it means absolutely nothing to me, officially. Nearly all the files in my office are strictly related to his professional life, as are the majority of files on my computer, but they too are meaningless. I’m supposed to put all this aside and move on, as if he’s died. But he hasn’t.

So, for the next month or two I have to deal with work in this terribly uncomfortable situation. I have to begin to dislodge myself from the structure of which I’ve become the foundation. It’s as though I’m living in a Fractured Fairy Tale where my stone house has been blown down, I have to build a straw house that will inevitably been blown down, only to build a wood house which may be blown down. It’s all upside out.

I only hope that ultimately, I’ll be able to reinforce that wood house with something more concrete.