Things will be changing a little. Good news I promise.
I want to post more about my experiences, motivations, and things that help me through rough times.
Each month I want to discuss something I’m going through or went through. This first month will feel all over the place since there has never been any consistency on this blog before. But these post will hopefully be beneficial for both of us.
We will continue to learn and grow together.
I wasn’t lying when I said I couldn’t wait to see what 2023 brings us. I hope that it brings us all a little peace.
I believe that 2023 will be the first of many years that people are set free from many things that held them back in previously.
I want to be able to help people let things go as well as do so myself.
I started this blog to talk about my experiences and help others going through my same problems, and I would love to return to that core belief. There will still be random rants, breakdowns, recipes, and arts and crafts, don’t worry. Also, how many times can I mention something just to forget about it and never bring it up again? That’s annoying, and it’s time to stop that.
So an update on the whole Covid thing and everything else happening in my life.
I’m fine. I don’t have Covid.
But my body is falling apart. A few days ago, I fell, and I am very clumsy, so I didn’t think anything of it. For some reason Friday, my ankle and my knee started swelling. My foot got so swollen I had to remove my shoe. And the swelling went all the way up my leg. The doctor said it was a sprained ankle and gave me a brace and pain meds.
I arrived at the urgent care at noon and wasn’t seen until 6 pm to be told in 20 minutes it was a sprain and to take some ibuprofen. But why would my knee be swelling if it is just a sprained ankle? I was pissed and I demanded to get an X-ray of my knee. Hopefully, we will get some answers soon.
The thing is, I hate Going to the hospital. I won’t go to the hospital if I don’t have to. Sometimes it seems like I need serious help, and the doctors refuse to do anything because I’m overweight. One of the first responses I got when I showed the doctor my swollen foot was, “Well. Yesterday was thanksgiving. Did you have too much salt?” and “Well, looking at your chart, I did notice that you’re overweight, and being overweight can cause harm to your body over time.”
I’m overweight. Every time I go to the doctor, I’m reminded of that fact. As if my clothes and my partner’s arm don’t fit around me, the way they used isn’t enough. My health could be better, but being overweight has more to do with the fact I don’t work out as much as I should, and I eat maybe two meals a day. My calories come from coffee, and since I make it at home, I know it has fewer calories than when I used to drink Starbucks daily.
I wish doctors would stop blaming my period and weight for everything wrong with me. I had to visit the three different doctors times before I was told I had vertigo. The first two doctors said my being sick and nauseous was me being pregnant and after multiple negative pregnancy test they blames my period. So what would have happened now if I didn’t ask for X-rays? Would they have completely ignored my knee swelling? Would I have had to visit multiple doctors again? What if it wasn’t found until it was too late?
Being fat shouldn’t be an excuse to not get proper care. I’m trying to lose weight, but it just feels like life gets in the way, and I have no energy to pull myself out of bed some days.
Between Tough Mudder, a Frida Kahlo exhibit in LA, the boyfriend’s birthday, and a Vegas trip, I’m tired. To top it all off, I’ve been trying to create and run an ice cream business.
I go back to work tomorrow, and honestly, I need to catch my breath and maybe chug a few Gatorades to help with the dehydration.
I’m glad I got to take time off work and focus on spending time with my family and my boyfriend, but now I feel lazy and poor.
My whole life, I’ve worked towards something or just worked in general that even in the first quarantine, having time not to work felt wrong.
I’m a great corporate cog when I need to be, but I didn’t realize how many things I miss out on.
The last ten days have been amazing. I would love to say I’ve been able to destress, but that would be a lie. At the same time, I haven’t been stressed about work, not posting on the blog, trying to make social media account for the ice cream, and trying to figure out where everything else fits in has been a nightmare of its own. When life is supposed to be easy, I find ways to complicate it.
I also got a fish. It was completely random and wasn’t my idea. A guest at my job gifted it to me. And I couldn’t just let it die. But that’s been a whole other stressor. Because I can barely keep myself alive, how was I supposed to keep a fish alive?
I promise I plan to update more on things that have happened in my busy April. I just wanted to say, “Hey, I’m still alive, and I hope you guys had a good Easter if you celebrated.”
Now, If you’ve been following me for a while, you might have seen an ice cream recipe or two. And if you haven’t, that’s fine too.
Today I wanted to make my love for ice cream better known. I love making ice cream and gifting it.
I recently made the mistake of making ice cream for my coworkers. I say mistake, but it wasn’t. Everyone loved it and kept asking me to make more. And after making three different types of ice cream in a week, I realized how expensive it is. I said I wouldn’t be able to make it anymore, and that really bummed out some of my coworkers.
They asked if they could pay and at first, I still said no. Because I didn’t want to make it, and I didn’t want anyone to think I was saying no for money. But I finally caved.
Now comes the overthinking. Do I make standard flavors that I can keep in stock? Or only make custom ice cream? What if I start making ice cream to sell, and no one wants to buy it anymore?
I’m even thinking of creating an Instagram page solely for the ice cream and selling it in Long Beach. But I can’t deliver so maybe that’s a bad idea also?
Today I am super manic. I only realized after announcing to my boyfriend this morning that I wanted to buy a car, go back to school, and start a religious podcast.
It’s a mess but let’s get into it.
I’m starting with the one that is the most random. A podcast- a religious one at that is not something most people would expect from me. But I have a lot to say, both good and bad about being a Christain.
I have gone through a lot regarding religion, and I feel like others have. So maybe it’s time to talk about it. Please get rid of some anger at having religion shoved down our throats. I want to speak with some of my friends who decided no religion was better than one. How do people keep their faith in 2022? I have many questions and things I want to discuss, but maybe it wouldn’t be that interesting. I want a safe space to discuss religious trauma. Also, I’ve been told a few times that I have a pleasant voice for a podcast so let’s put that to the test. I’ll announce more about that when I get more information on starting a podcast.
If you know me personally, I’ve been debating going to school for the last few years and, in 2020, decided I no longer wanted to go to school. I went to school, was great at school, and then dropped out because I was depressed and put too much pressure on myself. I said going to college isn’t for me.
As soon as I said I wanted to go back to school, I instantly started to overthink. Do I want that again? Am I too old to go to college? I have already gone to school for three years. All of my friends have graduated or are graduating. I’ll be the only person I know going back to school. Will I have to start over? Am I overthinking all of this? Yes.
I have a full-time job now, and I don’t plan on leaving yet, but I think a degree would be helpful with the blog and maybe moving forward in a different career path. I would love to become a full-time content creator. I would love to be able to be my own social media manager rather than have to hire someone to help me along the way.
Im going back to school because I want to. You 10000% do not need to go to college. It’s not for everyone.
But if I want to go to school, I have to get a car. My boyfriend and brother are tired of driving me everywhere, and I don’t blame them. have you seen the gas price right now?
I can’t use driving apps anymore because they are too expensive. I will use a ride app to get to work at 6 am, and I’ve paid up to $50. Because there were fewer drivers or whatever else the stupid app said. I can’t pay $50 a day for five days a week.
The thing is, I was super excited to start driving. I just got my driver’s license, but I had an accident and no longer wanted to drive. It wasn’t even a car accident. I just scraped my friend’s car that I was driving when I was entering a very narrow garage.
The car owner was even like, “Don’t trip; you drove great, and my garage is hard to get into. Don’t worry about it.” I didn’t listen, and I constantly worried about it. I also worry about driving my boyfriend’s car and maybe messing with that car, too—I’m a little paranoid about possibly crashing a vehicle again.
I need a small car with a small hood and a seat that I can raise; I think I’ll be comfortable driving again.
It seems I have a case of Christmas Blues. I have decided to take a little mental break from everything.
Since November, my body and mind have felt stuck in a gloomy/panic state. It’s time for me to unplug and just try to relax. My mind is in desperate need of rest. I promise I’ll be back to my regular posting schedule on Sunday.
At the beginning of the month, I started looking for a job that pays more, and today I finally got the call I’ve been waiting for.
It’s a full-time position with benefits; it’s the big girl job I’ve been waiting for. I’m excited about this, ecstatic even. But my excitement is tinged by this bittersweet feeling.
I feel silly saying this, but I love my current job. I love what I do. I believe it has meaning. My coworkers are mostly awesome. Our clients are fantastic. That said – I’m underpaid.
I started looking into a new job because I’m tired of my bank account being overdrawn. I had to pick between being able to buy clothes for the interview and food. My boyfriend and brother are tired of chauffeuring me around, understandable. Still, I literally don’t have the money to buy a bus fare.
It’s no question that I’m taking this job. I would be greatly relieved from debt by pursuing this new opportunity.
It has been a struggle to silence all the doubts I have. At first, I felt guilty for leaving. I feel like I’m letting down my boss and my colleagues. But I know I’m doing what’s better for me. I’m nervous because it’s a new place and new people. Scared that they will be less flexible, and I would have to sacrifice my family time more often. But, I had to ask myself, “There is an opportunity for more money and more experience but is that worth it?”
I’m a paycheck away from being homeless. I don’t believe my uncle would kick me out if I couldn’t pay for a few months, but I don’t want to put either of us in that situation. But I also think that heaven forbids, what if he dies suddenly? I’m fucked along with everyone else who lives in this house. I have no savings. I have no plan. I have nothing and nowhere to go. This time, I don’t have a car to sleep in if I get evicted.
I’m getting older, my views on life changed from when I was in college until now when I’m looking to start a family. I keep thinking of the future. I want to be able to live without roommates and have a car of my own. I’m much more interested in giving my future self a better life, living in a safe neighborhood, and retiring comfortably.
I have to be strong tomorrow when I go to hand in my two weeks notice. Much like Dolly Parton leaving Porter Wagner to pursue a solo career, I will always love you.
Someone told me today is June 1st. But they May be wrong.
Happy Pride month my lovelies. I will be posting more on Pride throughout the month.
I hope this month ends with a bang because its started off pretty poorly.
I think I’ve mentioned this a few times, but I rent a house with my sister, her boyfriend, and my brother. The house was originally my uncle’s house, so we pay very little rent, which is excellent because rent in California is ridiculous. Even though my uncle doesn’t live in the house, he still has a room; my brother has the second and my sister in the last room. Meanwhile, I’ve been sleeping on the broken-down couch in the living room.
My cousin (my uncle’s son) has now moved into our jam-packed house. He has taken over the master/ my uncle’s bedroom. My sister and her boyfriend decided that they needed more space and moved into the garage. With the room empty, I thought I was in luck and would be able to move right in. Except nothing in life is easy for me.
I don’t know what they did, but the room was destroyed. From broken windows to smashed holes in walls and torn-up carpet, they generally wrecked everything they could get their hands on.
Don’t believe me? Look at this hole in the wall:
At least the had the decency to try and fix it themselves. They used duck tape and a caulking gun. I guess they thought if they painted over it, no one would notice.
Then there is the smell… it smells so horrible—body odor to the max. I washed the walls with vinegar and used baking soda on the floors. Unfortunately, the room doesn’t smell any better. I plan on renting a rug doctor and getting some deep cleaning solution I’m hoping that will also remove some of the smell. But But the carpet is stained and torn up. I don’t think a rug doctor can help it. If I could I would just remove the carpet.
I am at a total loss as to what to do. I’ve already started to fix the room, but I don’t even want to move into it anymore.
The thing that upsets me is I can’t even ask my sister to pay for the damages. My sister is petty, immature, difficult, and self-centered. I learned the best way to deal with her is to avoid conflict and give her her way because she’s unreasonable if she doesn’t get her way. She saw me filling into the holes in the wall and asked me what I’m doing. I don’t know if that was sarcastic or genuine. I mentioned the state of the room, and she shrugged it off. My sister and her boyfriend don’t understand why I’m so upset. They feel they are doing me a favor by moving into the garage because now I’ll have a room. They took their stuff out of the room but didn’t clean anything.
I should have expected the room to be bad. My sister has displayed some unhygienic behavior before but more bordering on annoying than anything else. She would leave her dishes for days on end, sometimes weeks. She doesn’t clean up after herself in the common areas like the kitchen. She doesn’t clean, not a pan, the stove, nor any part of the kitchen after using it, half the time she cant even be bothered to close the microwave door. I never said anything before since I’m not a very confrontational person, and I’m not a super clean freak myself. I try to generally just be accommodating to others, as long as they’re not limiting my ability to enjoy the house in any way I’m not bothered. It just seemed very ‘high-strung’ to complain about very common behavior.
This last week or so hasn’t been the greatest for me. I struggled with whether or not I should even talk about it here but ultimately decided it was too important to me not to mention. So here it goes…
Last weekend, my grandma died.
Even writing these words now, I have a hard time believing my grandma is gone. And this loss has hit me pretty hard. We were very close. I don’t really even know what else I can say, except for this…
We lived together this last year when I was her caregiver; I got to hear the stories and see what an independent woman my grandmother was. She was incredible and a groundbreaker. She created a life for herself by herself, and that is something I admire.
My grandma, Grandma Flo to so many; was a force of nature, a hurricane of a woman whose love, tenacity, courage, and determination touched every part of every life she came into contact with: As a Foster Mother, As a Nurse, As a Girl Scout Troop Leader, As a Probation Officer, As a Neighbor, As a Friend, As a Caretaker, As a Sister, As a Mother, As a Wife, As a Grandmother, As Flo Warren.
I know that so many have heard me tell the tale of the wild antics, hilarious stories, or touching moments that she and I have shared. I’m so happy for all the memories that I have of her but sad that there won’t be any more. Even in her death, my grandmother helped me be a encourager.
It’s May 3rd. You know what that means. We have to leave out chicky nuggies and chocky milk so Baby Yoda can visit us. Pro tip if you make your nuggies a little crispy, Anakin will visit too.
I’ve been gone for a while, but now I’m back. I have the time and motivation to make this blog my priority. Was April a busy month? Yes. Should I still have tried to make an effort to blog? Yes. Was I discouraged to continue writing after I got a few hate comments? Yes
This blog was created to share things about my life, what I’m thinking about, or struggling with because maybe someone else is too. The best way to help someone is by being open and upfront with them, but lately, I haven’t been honest with myself.
I’ve been in a slump. At first, I thought it was because I was no longer working two jobs, and now I have time to do things. But if I’m honest, it’s because when I’m alone, I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve always based my personality on tv characters I grew up with. Now that I’m mostly home alone, I do not need sarcastic one-liners or witty zingers.
The fact that I now hate being alone has made my relationship complicated. I have become one of those girls who is always with her boyfriend. I feel like that Spongebob meme.
Is that separation anxiety? I feel that I’ve gotten so used to being in quarantine and always being with him. Then in March and April when I was working so much and was tired all the time. I was distracted and more busy stressing over my job and customers, and life. Now I have no distractions and feel very clingy and needy. He’s like a safety blanket. When I’m with him, I can forget about my family and my stress. And I feel terrible using him like that. Our conversations are now filler because if I talk about anything serious, I’m sure I will start crying.
But then I feel bad for wanting to cry because I still have it better than others. But I hate that I’m not making progress. I hate that I used my savings. I hate my living situation, my roommates suck, and I’m sleeping on a broken-down couch. I hate that I quit the job making my hair fall out due to stress, and now I don’t make as much money.
Whoever commented about how I’m just complaining about my first-world problems, you’re right, I am. And I probably am going to continue to complain about my first-world problems. Because they are relatable. My problems are basic. I’m basic.