WORKAHOLIC SPOUSES

Do you ever wonder if you're really married or not? Do you ever look at the person who walks in the door in the evening and wonder, "who is this stranger?" My husband's presence in our home is becoming surreal to me. He is working such long ridiculous hours, that we barely get a chance to speak. When he is home...he's not HOME. He always has this glazed look in his eyes, and I know he's thinking about what needs to be done the next day at work or the World Cup.

Wednesday he finally had a day off, but because he really needed a chance to just unwind and relax, instead of giving him a "honey-do" list, I sent him off with our neighbor to play golf. They were gone...all day! I whisked him out to dinner as soon as he came home, thinking we'd then have some special "us" time. We ended up at a place where the TV's spew sports channels all day and night, so conversation was limited, to say the least.

Last night he closed the store. He got home around 11:00p.m. I'd already gone to bed and was watching HGTV. When he turned the handle and walked into the room, I was just drifting off to sleep and I jerked awake thinking, "who is this man?" It's a good thing I don't sleep with a gun under my pillow!

He came over, leaned down to give me a kiss and as I was drifting back to sleep, I thought, "oh yeah, I know him...and I miss him."

DR. McYUMMY

My incision bandages have been officially removed and everything looks great! I'm so glad to have this behind me now. Well, sort of. I'm gonna miss my doctor. Even though I only saw him for about 30 minutes, when the surgery was scheduled, and then again today, for about 15 minutes, for my post-op visit, I've got a surgeon-crush.

He's not your typical tall, dark and handsome. In fact, he's average height, white haired with a big ole mustache, but he tickles my fancy. He's got a great sense of humor and I have that on my list of prerequisites, for doctor's who are gonna dig around and remove organs from inside my body.

I'm thrilled that I no longer have my belly button taped closed, but it was with a deep sigh and little wave that I said, "good-bye" to Dr. Powell and left his office today. If you ever need a surgical procedure of any kind and wanna little over 50 eye-candy...he's your man! Of course different strokes, for different folks, but I like that long haired, scruffy, deep manly laughing sort of guy.

Okay, enough.............I'm HEALED and that's what's really important...isn't it?

BABY GOT BACK...BONE

Reba McEntire once said, “To succeed in life, you need three things: a wishbone, a backbone and a funny bone.”

I sure have that wishbone part down pat and I throw a little funny bone into every day. It’s the backbone that I find confusing. I’m not sure how much backbone I’m supposed to have. Is it okay to just let things slide, even if they make you uncomfortable? Is shouting your opinions from the rooftops louder than everyone else considered having a backbone? If I don’t call people on the carpet every time I disagree with them…do I lack a backbone? Does everything in life have to be on my terms only and should I fight to be sure they are…in order to have a backbone?

I like to think I have a backbone where it counts. I don’t let anyone walk all over the people I love. I believe that’s where a backbone is really necessary. As for me personally, well I choose my battles.

I’ve always been a rather peaceful, laid-back person and therefore have probably been run over many times by loud, obnoxious, opinionated individuals…but the funny part is…I can’t remember any of these incidents, so how important were they? When I do tap into my backbone it surprises people. Such as the other night when my drunken brother called me and decided to rake me over the coals for something I’d never even done. I hung up on him; but not before I used very flowery language to tell him what he could do with his rantings. Shocked the heck out of him and out of me. I think he actually respected me more for not taking his crap.

Baby got backbone, when she needs it. I just don’t feel that I have to yell to get my point across. I’m right…nuff said…you can rage all you want. I’m gonna take a nap.

FRIENDS HELPING FRIENDS........

I had my "heart-light" turned on today, thanks to the help of a new friend.Sandra Carrington-Smith, is an author, who lives here in Raleigh. I met her a couple of months ago at a freelancers meeting I was attending and instantly liked her. We had lunch together today and she is just an absolute fountain of information, and the nice thing is...she's an author willing to share her knowledge.

So many published authors don't want to talk to other writers. They will snub you. Unless, of course, you want to discuss them and their success. Then you can bet they will drown you with more information than you really wanted, and some how in that process manage to keep pertinent data, which might assist you in your career...to themselves.

Sandra isn't one of those authors. She is funny, warm, inviting and happy to help, especially, if she sees potential in you as a writer. She WANTS you to succeed, just as she has. Her novel, The Book of Obeah, is now out in bookstores and I thoroughly recommend it to anyone who likes a page turner.

I know that Sandra and I have forged a lasting friendship. One that will see us both through lots of book publishing parties and signings. Thanks Sandra, for all you've done to make me realize my self-worth as a writer. You are a true friend!

RE-ENTERING WORK FORCE HELL

I must soon join the work force again. In January 2009 I was laid-off, after seven years of working for the same company. Seven years was a record for me and I was really devastated when they let me go. Okay, honestly, I was depressed and crushed.

I spent the first three months of freedom wallowing in my own self-pity and feeling sorry for myself. Then I saw an opportunity. I was receiving unemployment benefits and decided to resurrect my writing talents. Happiness reined in our home again. I spent hours a day completing a novel I started over twenty years ago. I started blogging. I wrote poetry, short stories, children stories, magazine articles, whatever struck my fancy. After six months of just enjoying the creative process of penning prose, I decided I should actually try to make some money at this past time. After all, the government wasn't going to pay me forever to stay home, so I needed to earn some cash from my literary productions in order to seriously consider it as my new "career."

SCRRREEEECCCCHHHH, this is where my writing dream seemed to stall out. Although I truly relish typing away and telling tales, breaking into that "paid" author group is tough!

I still kept struggling though, till this week. This week my unemployment stopped coming in every Tuesday. I won't miss the sound of that lady's voice on the phone every Monday as I call in to register, but I will miss the money that allowed me to follow a dream...for at least a while.

I am now officially, honestly and sincerely looking to re-enter the 8-5 work force. I am determined not to let my dream die along with having to become a drone for 40 hours per week, but bills don't stop coming just because your income does. So, unfortunately, its' "hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work I go"...as soon as I can get hired that is.

I DON'T WANNA GROW UP

I was watching America's Got Talent last night. Definitely not one of my favorite shows, but I love Howie Mandel and he is a judge this season (say "good-bye" to the Hoff).

Howie has this amazing ability to really LOVE life. He always has this wondrous expression on his face, like he's seeing or hearing something for the first time and he finds it interesting and amusing. The other two judges are very quick to hit their "stop" buttons, but Howie sits and stares with amusement and sometimes laughs outloud at what we think are those mundane or ridiculous acts. He is truly entertained.

I used to view life this way. I found amusement and a chuckle in so many of the things in my life and the world around me. I observed more. I slowed down and took more time to look around me. I believe I enjoyed more.

Some people might say, "well you've grown up," and they are probably right, but it sucks. I don't want to be a grownup if it means I can't find wonder and joy in the little things or the absurd things happening around me. When did I become so cynical and judgmental.

When I was working every day I used to look for something humorous or interesting on my way to work. It could be a billboard, a business sign, a person at the bus stop, a crazy looking vehicle or someone walking down the road. Sometimes I would share what I'd seen with my fellow co-workers, but always I would have that image to look back at and smile throughout the day. It's a great way to start your day. Try it...you may like it.

As for me...I'm gonna get back on that "Peter Pan" train and appreciate the silly again!

"OW" AND I SAY THAT WITH FEELING

Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry alone. Of course, if you have just recently had surgery...I suggest you do neither. Don't laugh, cry, burp, bend over or try to move the 50 lb. coffeetable. Cause it won't feel good. Any of it. Trust me on this!

I've actually been avoiding comedies since my surgery. I miss laughing, but the absence of pain is worth the absence of giggles! I don't even want to talk to my funny friends and I really need my comedic husband to stop with the wisecracks that make me clutch my belly in agony as my body shakes with laughter. Is he funnier now that I don't want him to be or was he always like this?

Tragedies and drama is another form of entertainment I'm trying to avoid. I'm a crier. I cry over sappy commercials. I can just fast forward through those though, as 90% of all our TV viewing is done via DVR. I was grabbing my belly and the tissues simultaneously as I watched the finale of GLEE Friday night. These kind of shows must be shunned for at least another week.

This leaves action shows only as a possible outlet. Of course even those need to be monitored. Don't want to watch any "gut wrenching" scenes. Stress can cause my stomach muscles to contract.

Oh hell, maybe I'll just read. No funny books though or tear jerkers. Hmmm, just staring off into space is always an option!