Friday, July 15, 2011

Walking Amongst the Working

I'd say by now I'm semi-completely, officially one of the working. It's so real and happening that I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm really happy about working, more happy than I can even type out here. I had started to feel like moving on was a dream slipping away from me, day by day.

What I'm excruciatingly happy for right this second is that I'm not in excruciating pain. Usually I come home from working my short day at the job (Awesome!) and can hardly walk because the bottom of my feet and hip hurt so much it feels like someone beat them with a cane all day. No exaggeration. I wonder how so much pain can be inflicted by such a benign situation. It's not like I have cords of wood strapped to my back walking 40 miles up hill in bare feet all day but my body doesn't know the difference.

I get home and crawl up the stairs to my room where I turn on my Netflix. I don't move until the next day when I go and do it again except maybe to put on a load of laundry.

That's when to my delight, I discovered the intercom button on my phone. I now call my sons every few minutes to ask for something whether I need it or not. They bring me dinner, glasses of water, I sent one boy to fetch me a brownie and when he came back empty handed because they were out, I sent him up the street for a chocolate bar. I give them instructions on chores to do in the house. Why didn't I know about that button before?

Occasionally I like to throw in a compliment just to keep them on their toes. *Ring ring* "This dinner is really good, thanks.", "Uhhh, your welcome" *CLICK*

Sometimes I ring just to rub it in their faces that I have 2 jobs. Whenever they give me lip as I lay in my bed after the fifteenth intercom call, I say, "Oh yeah, try having 2 jobs you little loafer. Your leukemia cancer survivor, bone marrow transplanted, graft/vs/host riddled, vagina surgeried, medicated up the hoohaa mom is kicking your A.S.S in the J.O.B department. The satisfaction that gives me has just keeps on giving. I could do it all day but after a while they claim 'they didn't hear it ring'.

So today I'm not in excruciating pain. Half that. SOoooo, that would be awful pain if it's half of excruciating? I hope to arrive at regular pain in no time and maybe dare to dream of a mildly painful workday. If only. I'm so glad I have a high pain tolerance. It's been a life saver. That and the intercom button.

5 comments:

Caroline said...

haha, you can train your boys to be very helpful!

BaldyLocks said...

Only when The Force is with me.

Ann said...

I just asked my son to vacuum the living room. You'd think I asked him to murder the cat or something. Because he has a 4.5 GPA, I kind of let him slide in the housework department but I can't do it anymore, so he has to help.

I think, technially savvy being he is, my intercom wouldn't last the day if I tried your method. :)

BaldyLocks said...

You should try it. My sons are as likely to vacuum as yours is. Personally I think I just got lucky or they haven't figured out a response yet.

Congrats on your sons GPA, he needs a good pat on the back for that.

Gina said...

Love your blog, thanks so much for sharing your story with the world! I'm currently working on the Dying to do Letterman project and wanted to reach out to you. Our site is www.dyingtodoletterman.com. Please check it out and if you are interested I'd love to communicate about a possible collaboration. My personal email is gmdysert@gmail.com. Hope to hear from you - your blog rocks!

Gina