Back from the Witness Protection Program

Yes, my loyal readers, I am finally back. Where have I been? Well, not to Western Idaho even though I would have liked to have stayed there for a while. But like they say, when you travel to get away from your problems, you just take them with you and they don't even help you out with the luggage.

Not that I'm drowning in problems, but I've had to deal with some adjustments. First of all, I am recently boyfriendless. This was a complete shock to me, as I guess it is to anyone who suddenly aquires this status. We were two peas in a pod, two pigs in a blanket, twin souls, two aging teenagers having fun and enjoying life. I really thought our relationship was going well. Since I have a job and a half, I didn't see him much during the week but we spent all weekends together. We ate out, we took little trips, we went to happy hour, we putzed around. I did his laundry, I helped him paint his place in the Keys, I helped him put up new blinds in his place, I cleaned his house, I cleaned his trailer, I ... OK you get the picture. We were happy and I was my usual, over-enthusiastic, stupid self.

Then, one Friday night we went to happy hour at the usual place. We had a wonderful time, we drank, we ate, we danced and caught up with all our friends. We left early, because we were going to drive to the keys for the weekend. I was the designated driver so I only had one drink, he had maybe three. We were crossing the street to our respective cars, holding hands, then he suddenly let go of my hand and said "I'll see you at the house." I asked him, "Aren't you going to walk me to my car?" (and I want to stress that I said this in a sweet, un-whiny voice) He answered, slightly pissed off, "I'll SEE YOU AT THE HOUSE."

I walked myself to my car, got in the car and just sat there. Then I called him on his cell and told him he would not see me at the house because I was going home. He hung up on me.

This happened two weeks ago. He never called me again. I have not called him, nor will I. I figure that if you can't walk me to my car on a dark street in Little Havana, forget you. It would be nice to someday have a relationship with a guy that didn't go weird out of the blue. Someday.

Second, after having been promoted to Ass. Director, my work environment has gotten very hectic and uncool. Since I came back from my son's homecoming, I've been buried under piles of work, supervisory functions, meaningless and endless meetings and similar crap. I think my supervisor thought that if I was promoted then I could be given all the tasks no one else wanted to do and he is one clever guy. Needless to say, I no longer have limitless hours of office time to devote to gazing out the window at the turkey vultures (yes, turkey vultures) flying by, or blogging, or IMming, or talking at the office cooler, etc. I miss all those things, but when I finally have the two trainees fully trained and duly functioning, I will unload on them some of the garbage that was unloaded on me. It goes by the term of "delegation" and is actually considered to be a positive thing. Ahhh, Management! (Putting my feet up on the hard drive as I write) Soon I should have a little more of my old fun time back.

My sons:

My Marine is in California training other Marines that will eventually be deployed to Iraq. He will be home, really home, in September and he will go back to college. He is adorable. He is also girlfriendless as his girl disappeared from his life and our home as soon as he was on his way back. Funny, I didn't cry when my boyfriend and I split up, but I cried when my son and his girlfriend did.

He is battling a bit of PTSS. While he was home on his post-deployment leave last month he was jumpy and nervous and chain-smoking. He also got into a (nother) huge fight with his brother and I had to call his dad to come get him. I don't know how they have these young men fight a war, seeing their buddies blown up, experiencing IED explosions, being shot at all the time, seeing dead bodies and stuff and then they bring them home and DON'T DO A THING TO HELP THEM. I asked my son if he had had any kind of therapy while at the base and he said no, none. I have spoken with other Marine moms who report that their sons too are having a lot of trouble handling civilian life. Thanks again, Mr. Bush and all you fat and greedy SOB's in charge of our country.

My younger son is doing great, he is studying his behind off now to make up for all the slacking during the semester. I don't know how he does it but he spends a minimal amount of time and effort studying and yet he manages to get excellent grades. He is adorable as well. It is a trait that seems to run on his mother's side of the family. hahaha

Anyway, people, I just popped in to share my eventful life with all four of my loyal readers. I miss all of you, and will do my best to set aside my daily chores and read up on your blogs.