Brandon and Daisy Attack the Carolinas 2026, Part I: Temporary Islanders

(written three days before the trip)

So it has come to our attention that with the TSA being part of the partial government shutdown and TSA agents not getting paid right now, there's talk of some airports shutting down.

Do I think airports are going to start shutting down? No. Is it a possibility? Yes. Do I think they'd need to make an announcement as far in advance as possible that they're going to shut down some airports and would it absolutely be national news and cause mass chaos were it to actually happen? Also yes. I'm sure this is something the airports and airlines would like to avoid, so I don't see it really happening, but it could. It could.

I have not yet booked the Uber to the airport yet for Friday morning because we're sort of trying to read the room on figuring out when to get there and not have to wait in a security line for hours on end because of this TSA mess...or end up sitting at our gate for hours on end. Our trip will be from Friday, March 20 to Wednesday, March 25. We're wheels up from Omaha at 7am sharp, flying from here into O'Hare, and from O'Hare into Wilmington, NC. It's the same trip in reverse when we return home on almost the same timeframe even. We generally have enough padding time to not have to worry about delays being any huge concern, but still. 

Wilmington is a small airport. It's not super-small -- it's not Bangor, for example, which is the smallest (and my favorite) airport I've ever flown through on multiple occasions -- but it's small compared to Chicago O'Hare. By a lot. There is a little fear on my part that they'd be one of the ones to shut down were any of that to come to pass, especially with airport powerhouses Charlotte and Raleigh already in the state of North Carolina. Ironically, even though Omaha has a relatively small airport I am not incredibly concerned about it shutting down -- it's the only big airport in about a 3-4 hour radius out here.

I'm saying this now, so, if I'm proven wrong, we can point back at this post and say how wrong I was.

All of this, of course, adds some stress to our upcoming travels that neither of us want or need. Daisy told me to pack extra medication to take with me, in case we get stranded for a few days. I told her that I always do that anyway.

If we get stuck in NC for a few extra days, it is what it is. I have my full three-day weekend awaiting me once we get home on Wednesday, and it wouldn't hurt me to spend a little more time with my parents.  Daisy took the Thursday off after we get home (the 26th) to recuperate and recover from the trip, so she has three days in a row off too. Daisy's parents could check on the cats if necessary once the Catsitter's duty is done if we get stuck there. It's not the end of the world is what I'm saying. I'd like to avoid it, but it's not life-shattering if we get stuck for a couple of extra days. We'd just become temporary islanders.

Through it all, I'm like "whatever will be, will be." It's out of my control, and generally I stress over stuff that's out of my control, but this is too big to bother to stress about -- so whatever happens, happens. I'm sure my parents would be thrilled with some extra time with us. 

Daisy is, finally, mostly packed. She packed on Sunday night and has been refining her suitcase selections ever since. She's now focused on getting the right snacks and foods ready for the trip so we're not starving in airports or letting our blood sugars drop too low. Normally, I taste-test a bunch of different kinds of (vegan) jerky before we leave on a trip and then take a few bags of the ones I like the most, but this time around I didn't do that and I'm letting Daisy take care of the trip snacking. She generally picks a selection of things and makes us a few sandwiches, which I really enjoy because what a wonderful wife, right? 

The Mounjaro has been sent to Amazon Pharmacy, according to my new doctor, but it hasn't shown up yet in there on my profile. My doctor said it would take a few days, likely, for insurance clearances and all that for it to show up and be order-able, so I won't have it before we return from NC. Truthfully we're at the cutoff at this juncture for most anything we'd need to get before the trip anyway, so I know it wouldn't arrive in time even if we were to order it now. I do have my other two medications arriving on Thursday, though, shortly before we leave. 

Tonight is my last night at work until March 29. Yes, that's right, 11 days straight off work with four actual PTO days used, because of the way the trip falls. Last night was plagued by computer issues, as my systems crashed at 1am and it took over 90 minutes to pull them back up and get them working correctly again. I feel like this was some sort of karmic payback for submitting my PTO for tomorrow night so that the "night before vacation" workload wouldn't fuck me over. Oh, so you don't want to get killed the night before you leave? How about two nights before you leave, I crash all of your systems?

Nothing good ever comes without consequence. I am nervous to see what the night at work holds for me once I log in to my computer in about two hours. Tuesdays generally suck anyhow and we've seen a surge in normal workloads over the course of the past two weeks or so anyway. 

Countdown to North Carolina, Part III: Wind-a-Palooza

Well, the wind sucked. But I can now say that it's over. Today it is very sunny and clear with no wind whatsoever, and the vast majority of the snow that fell -- close to an inch by my estimates -- has melted off in the sun, even though it's still well below freezing temperature-wise.

That wind rattled the house and was loud and roaring, but did no damage as it blew through. At least none that I know of, anyhow. We're now starting a long trend of great weather through now until after we're back from North Carolina, according to the forecast. Today it's cold, but it's projected to be in the mid-80s by the end of the week, busting records across the entire area. That warmth is expected to persist for a few days and keep it beautiful and comfortable here while we're gone. 

In mid-March, this is the very definition of threading the needle through tornado season. Usually any given time of the year when we travel, there's a non-zero chance of horrible weather set to strike the house and/or Omaha area while we're gone. This is because we tend to travel in the spring and summer (sometimes fall, like our trip to Canada last year, but that's rare) and it's the worst time for severe weather in Nebraska during those months. Our tornado season has officially started, but over the past few years it has shifted more from March and early April into late April through August or so. Unfortunately, those are the best months to travel, and as we have to book tickets months in advance to get good deals, well...it's a roll of the dice. We knew it would be a roll of the dice for the North Carolina trip too when Daisy booked the tickets in January. It is what it is.

Interestingly enough, while it is 23 degrees here at the moment, my parents (who we will see in a short few days) are dealing with heavy rain and severe thunderstorms/tornado watches on the island. This is the weather I gave my dad a heads up about a few days ago so they could prepare. 

As an aside, other than a few small rumbles of thunder here and there and some hard rain for a day or two, we've never experienced a severe weather event while in NC when visiting the parents. I can't remember if it was last year or the year before, but there was a tornado that hit the island shortly before we arrived that took the roof off the local animal shelter there -- like, 2-3 days before we arrived, if that. My parents always tell us the dogs absolutely lose their shit when it storms, which is par for the course -- my old shih-tzu we had when I was growing up in WV hated storms and would try to climb up on top of your head to suffocate you when it stormed, or would get stressed and shake and hide. Betty, the shepherd mix we had at the time, was mostly deaf at that juncture and they didn't bother her. 

Both dogs' ashes are now in the closet in the bathroom of the WV house, as far as I know -- unless my dad brought them down to NC at some point. They've both been dead for many years. 

This is the forecast for the island while we'll be there:

I'm completely okay with this. Ironically the weather may be better here for a few days of that than it is there. Those are pretty ideal travel/vacation temperatures for me, though -- especially compared to summers down there when it's 85 degrees with 100% humidity. 

Anyway.

We both got our Monday-follow-up messages from our doctor today, and mine was far more positive than I expected. She agreed that all of my bloodwork looks pristine -- I have wonderful cholesterol levels and my kidney function is great -- and the A1C we're going to try to control with Mounjaro now instead of the Trulicity that gave me IBS.  She hasn't sent over the prescription for it yet, but I'm guessing it won't be there and ready before we leave for NC. I wouldn't start it before leaving on vacation anyway -- I don't know what side effects it will give me, if any, and I am not going to roll those dice anyway when I'm trying to enjoy a vacation visiting my parents. All of my other prescriptions have been refilled, and have either already arrived in the mail or will arrive within the next few days. I don't necessarily need these prescriptions right now because I have all the stuff I ordered months ago off the prescription website I use, as a stopgap between appointments, but it's good to get them re-upped and automatically refilled and shipped to me without getting them out-of-pocket anymore.

I am curious about the Mounjaro -- we'll see how I react to it. My doctor also didn't mention any sort of follow up time window to get rechecked either, so it's possible I'll have to go back in to get my numbers re-ran in about 3-6 months (this is generally pretty standard). That'll also give me a good reset baseline to see how well my body is responding to everything. I'm optimistic about this course of action, and I'm not sure I would be had we seen another doctor -- this new doctor puts me at immediate ease. 

I have taken off Wednesday night at work to get some breathing space -- I did not give a reason to my leadership other than to give them the heads up. Privately, to my own boss, I let him know that I still have a lot to get done before I hop on a plane, and I needed the day. This is true, but it's also because the night before I leave on a vacation tends to be absolutely brutal and soul-draining, leaving me to question my life choices and to not necessarily be upset if the plane goes down and I can't return to work because I'm dead. As I'd like to avoid those scenarios and feelings when I have the spare PTO to use, I took Wednesday night essentially as a mental health day. 

To be fair, there are still a lot of little things that need to be done, and Wednesday afternoon/evening and Thursday will allow me to accomplish all of them. We still have to get the key to the Catsitter, and I spoke to her this afternoon -- she'll swing by to get it sometime between now and Thursday. If she can't or gets tied up, we'll drive it over there to her ourselves. Wherever she lives, anyway. 

Daisy is working normally through the rest of the week, though I believe she's starting early on Wednesday morning and logging off early on Thursday. 

I do worry about the cats when we'll be gone; this will be Dolly's first time home alone without us (for more than a few hours, anyway). She is so very bonded to Daisy that I don't know how she's going to cope when we're gone. I always slightly worry about the kids when we go on trips anyway. The Catsitter has taken away a lot of those fears because she loves them all so much and spends an hour or two with them every day, and I appreciate her greatly for that. But, it'll also be the first trip where Pete won't be there waiting for us when we walk back in the door. I don't know if I fully realize how hard that will hit until we return and he's not there. 

Well, he is there; he's in an urn on the mantle, but still. You understand what I mean. 

We set the trip to where we'll still have our full weekend ahead of us when we return from my parents' -- this was essential so that we could have some actual downtime and breathing space and didn't have to run right back to work like we did after the Canada trip. Traveling absolutely drains me and I always try to make sure we plot the fastest, most efficient path to wherever we're going and back. 

This time around, we're flying from Omaha to Chicago O'Hare, then from there directly into Wilmington, North Carolina. The trip back is the same in reverse. We could not have gotten better flights at better times -- it allows us to completely bypass Atlanta, Raleigh, and Charlotte. We get in and out at reasonable hours, and arrive in NC in the mid-afternoon. On the way home, we arrive back in Omaha shortly after noon too. No more red-eye late night flights for us, thankfully. At least not this trip. It's also of note that by avoiding Charlotte completely, we avoid a possible travel nightmare as Charlotte was specifically mentioned in the news as having crazy delays due to the partial government shutdown and TSA agents not getting paid at the moment -- apparently it's one of the hardest-hit airports for that right now.

Chicago though? Who knows. I've flown through O'Hare a lot over the years, probably more than any other airport -- and they've upped their game in the past 10-15 years to where the airport is now actually an airport I like to fly through and not a demilitarized zone that planes go to and from, like it was in the late 2000s. 

Look, just get me to my luggage and rental car and on the road and I'll be happy.

Countdown to North Carolina, Part II: $60 of Coffee

 As we are now close enough to the trip to where I can check it with some accuracy, I can say that for our trip to North Carolina we're expecting highs in the 70s and lows in the 50s most days we're there, with no severe weather predicted for the duration of our trip.

That is good, as no severe weather is on the radar for Omaha while we're gone either, at least not at this current juncture anyway. 

I wanted to mention that, as per the usual before a trip, I do have a to-do list of things to accomplish and/or make sure are packed, taken care of, or otherwise readied before we leave the house for a few days. This includes little things like making sure the cats' food dispensers are completely full and that their water fountain is clean and refilled with new filters, to larger things that can't be forgotten like "make sure all of the cameras are on and in working order" and "make sure your cards are swapped out in your wallet" and the like.

We've gotten the catsitter's money for her and we've also readied the house key for her. We'll be tidying up what we can over the next few days. I don't necessarily care that the house looks relatively clean; she knows that it's just us and the six cats and doesn't especially seem like a judgy type, but if we clean stuff now there's generally less to clean once we return and we'll be better able to see what the cats have decided to destroy in our absence. 

The cats themselves are well prepared for; I ordered new food for them last week (and did a second, supplementary order of cans of food yesterday, which will be delivered tomorrow) and we picked up litter on Friday while we were out. Between now and when we leave, I'll also be washing the couch blankets again -- provided I have time -- and making sure they are comfortable and feel safe. They won't need their flea/tick meds until after we return, and with the catsitter watching them for an hour or two a day they'll get social interaction and love and their meds. We're okay. They'll be okay. I'm put very much at ease when I know the catsitter will be there a few times during the days we'll be gone, and the cats like her. That goes a long way for my peace of mind, as I remember the days when I had the golden oldies of Pete, Sadie, and Maggie and I'd just put out an extra clean litter pan and a lot of extra food and water and then leave for a week. Looking back on that now, I didn't realize how lucky I was that none of them (at the time) had any health conditions nor did they have any problems while I was gone, and I now see that as incredibly neglectful -- but at the time I did not, and I was poor. I couldn't fathom that with these new Gen-Z'er cats I have now. 

I am waiting for Daisy to pack and for her to finally utilize her new suitcase. We're there for five days; the weather will be late-spring if not summer-like on the coastline, and it's not like she needs to fill the suitcase because we can do laundry onsite at my parents' with no issue whatsoever. She knows this every time we go visit, and yet still packs like fifteen different outfits. Last year I told her just to pack the same shit she wears around the house when we're at home, because it's not like we have anyone to impress -- it's my parents, I don't care if they're impressed by her or not, we've still been married for almost 12 years and have been together for almost 14. 

Side note: we're trying to plan something interesting for our 15-year anniversary next year, and then again for our 15-year married anniversary in 2029. So, I'm sure I'll be talking about that in the coming months and years too. Next year is also the 20th anniversary of this very website, and this year is the 15th anniversary of it in its current form. So, there's some milestones coming up. 

Anyway. 

I'm just trying to keep my head above water and make it to the trip. I am so tired and have been dodging landmines of horseshit for the past few weeks at work, and because of the spring tornado and severe thunderstorm season ramping up, we've been forced to deal with a lot of outages, tech shortages, safety holds, and our own systems at times just plain not working correctly. All of that makes my life harder when trying to run a very shorthanded overnight team of agents, all of whom work from home from different locations around the country. Juggling that with trip preparations, sleep deprivation, disheartening bloodwork results for my diabetes, and taking care of all of the cats as well as tending the relationship with my wife in every way possible has been draining. I have been passing out hard in the mornings when I get off work, usually before Daisy awakens, and I become dead to the world for 5-6 hours. 

Last Wednesday, for example, they did the monthly test of the tornado siren -- this happens the first Wednesday morning of the month, from March to October, at 11am sharp -- and I completely slept through it. The closest tornado siren is about 100 yards from our house. It's loud. It will normally wake me from a dead sleep, and I've tried to train my body for it to wake me from a dead sleep because, well, being able to wake up when the tornado siren is going off is important.  Well, not this time, apparently. And that's a bit scary to me, honestly -- I've been so exhausted after those long nights at work that I'm now sleeping through tornado sirens. 

Back in the day, when I lived in Kansas, the tornado siren was 1-2 miles from my house and I would always hear it when it went off, and it would always wake me.

Rural Kansas was also a lot quieter than Omaha is, though. One of the few things I miss about living there was how quiet it was; no background noise, almost never sirens or car chases or gunshots or crime -- just rural American life. Farms, a farm supply store, a single Walmart, two grocery stores, a small movie theater, and some main-street businesses. Newton was a town where you didn't even have to lock your doors, because there weren't really criminals who would break in. There are times where I miss that simplicity so very much. 

Last week, I sent a picture of me holding Empress to my mother, to show her how large Emmy had gotten:

That picture is not distorted in any way. Yes, she is that big. Emmy is almost sixteen pounds.

My mother responded that she was beautiful, and so was I.

"Well, you'll get to see me large and in person soon," I said. 

She told me she was excited and that she wanted to take us to one of the little picturesque towns down there around the island once we were there. I asked her if there was anything Omaha-specific she needed or wanted us to bring with us. We'd already shipped some stuff down there, but if there was anything she wanted, I told her I'd be happy to pack it.

"Panera Dark Roast Coffee?" she asked.

Sigh.

Okay, I should have expected this. For those of you who remember last year's trip to visit my parents, my mother specifically asked for this coffee then too. It is $60 on Amazon and hard to get, so I ordered a few boxes of it directly off Panera's website and shipped it to them; it arrived a day or two before we did. This was after I'd spent I don't know how many points off my credit card rewards to get a Panera gift card with which I planned to go to the local Panera (it's right next to my eye doctor and Natural Grocers) to see if I could pick up the boxes of K-cups in person. Turns out that they don't sell the boxes of K-cups in the actual Panera Bread locations and they can only be purchased online or at the grocery store. Okay. I looked through multiple grocery stores in the very little time we had left before last year's trip and came up empty-handed, and the gift card would not work on the Panera website. So, at that point I just said fuck it and ordered it with my normal credit card, shipped it to my parents, and ever since I have had a Panera Bread gift card riding around with me in my wallet for absolutely no reason other than in the event that I have a food emergency and Panera is the only thing around.

So.

This time I just went to Amazon, spent the $60, and shipped the K-cups directly to the island. "Done," I said, screen-capping it and sending the confirmation to my mother. They arrived at the house four days ago, and she confirmed she got the box of them. 

Why did I do this?

It is very hard for my mother to ask anything of me. She doesn't want to be a burden and never has, and she does not want to ask me to go out of my way to do anything for her. It took a lot for my mother to ask me to get her the coffee, even if she doesn't let on, because she also knows full well how expensive it is. And, because she asked me, I wasn't about to say no. I can't put out the offer of "is there anything you'd want us to bring?" and then go "psh, no" when her answer is something expensive but would make her very happy. 

Also, I'm not poor anymore. $60 of coffee will never make me or break me, or be the difference in whether the bills get paid or if we or the cats eat for the week. If I'm ever that poor again, shoot me, because I never want to live that close to the edge again for the rest of my life. Despite our budgeting, we do live a pretty privileged life most of the time, and Daisy and I both do pretty well for ourselves. I mean, we have six cats, and that should tell you in itself that we're not destitute. We're not making Mercedes money, but we're at least making used-but-in-good-shape Camry money. And I'm satisfied with that at the moment, honestly. 

The bottom line is that it will make my mother happy. It's something that's just for her. I'm sure my dad will drink some of the coffee too, but really it's just for her, and I picture her being like "this is the new coffee Brandon sent us" when she makes a cup. It's the least I can do. Also, while it's not a competition, it balances out the hundreds of dollars' worth of comics I bring down there for my dad on every trip. The man is not my father, but he does end up being treated like royalty when we visit -- inadvertently of course -- I just have far more in common with him and share many common interests with him versus my mother. 

Anyway.

As is typical when I feel a neurodivergent break coming on (and believe me, it's coming) I have once again dipped my toes into tie-dyeing clothing. But, it's purposeful this time around; Daisy had a dress that she loved, but it got a large yellow turmeric stan on the front of -- and I mean a big, bright-yellow stain. It looked like I'd peed on her. 

Usually that's $50 extra.

Anyway, because of that, the dress was effectively ruined. It was pink and white with a giant yellow stain on it. I told her "you know, I can just soak that in a purple dye bath for a day or two and just re-dye the whole thing purple, if you want. Purple cancels out yellow. It won't retain the pattern, but at least it will be all one color and will look new again."

This was my hopes, anyway. The dress was 95% rayon and 5% spandex, and I didn't honestly know whether a normal bottle of Rit "eggplant" colored dye would actually hold in its fabric. Synthetics are notoriously hard to dye and generally need special dyes to make the color hold. I've got a few tricks from my years of dyeing clothing, but it was always going to be a crapshoot. 

She agreed, and I washed the dress before plunging it in a dye bath for about 36 hours or so.

When it came out, it was a beautiful, uniform dark maroon-purple; the pink already present in the dress made it more of a red-violet maroon hue. It worked wonderfully, and after a few washes and rinses to keep it from bleeding color out, she loved it and wore it yesterday while we were out and about.

However, that's not the end of the story.

I was left with a vat of dye that I really didn't just want to pour down the drain; for one, it would stain the sink or tub and likely the washing machine too, and I didn't want to waste it. Knowing this would be the case, I ordered a few sets of V-neck shirts from Amazon and oh hell, here we go again, I thought. I washed a two-pack of the shirts and left them undried, just damp in the washing machine overnight, and then plunged them into the vat of dye.

Because they were white t-shirts and 100% cotton, they immediately soaked up the dye and it swirled into many rippling patterns. After 24 hours or so, I pulled them out and washed them out and...they look really good. They're a much lighter shade of purple than Daisy's dress, more of a dark lavender -- but they both looked great. I gave one to Daisy's mother so that she could alter it in any way she saw fit (as she loves my tie-dyes and has used them for various clothing projects in the past) and I kept the other one. 

Daisy also has a green dress -- the exact same dress as the one I'd dyed, but in a different pattern/color -- that has a dime-sized bleach spot on the arm, from wearing it while cleaning the bathroom. It is immediately visible and noticeable when she wears it, even against the pattern of little white flowers that cover the dress.

"I can just re-dye that so that it's fully dark green," I said. "Just like I did the other dress. It won't have the flowers anymore, but it'll be completely wearable again and won't have the bleach spot on it."

So, I ordered more forest green dye too -- a few bottles of it -- and a 3-pack of black dye in the event that it's not a dark enough green for her. I'm going to test the green on another pack of the t-shirts first so that she can tell me whether it's dark enough, and if it's not, I'll add some black to the vat and make it work. This has actually worked really well in the past, to be honest with you, for other projects. You just have to mix it really well so that it doesn't swirl and the colors become super-uniform together. 

I have, however, decided that this is it, this is not going to become a hobby or a money-hole again. What I have now will be the end of it and I will be quite happy to end it. I guess I'll have to find something else to do for the family for Christmas presents.

That was a joke. I wouldn't do tie-dyes for them again unless someone like Daisy's father specifically asked for them (which he has done in the past, but as he's almost 80 now I don't think that's going to be a repeat request). 

In other news, I have replaced my...fleet? of Nalgene bottles. I know that isn't exciting to you, but it's somewhat exciting for me. 

For years, Daisy and I have both used plastic water bottles every day. She always preferred the Camelbak bottles, and I have always preferred the Nalgene bottles. Well, she's been on this kick recently where she wanted to get another non-plastic water bottle, due to the increasing prevalence of microplastics in everything and the fact that she's had the same water bottle for five-ish years and dishwashes it at least twice a week. Plastic breaks down, it leaches into the water, etc. She decided she was done with that, and began looking for a Pyrex glass or stainless steel water bottle. She finally found one -- a 40oz double-walled stainless steel bottle with the cap style she wanted -- ordered two of them, and loves them.

However, I am a Nalgene guy. I really adore my Nalgene bottles and I do not want to part with them -- but the fact is, they're all 6-7 years old at this point and all of them have been through the dishwasher many times as well, so I'm sure that chemically, they're also starting to break down and are leaching microplastics just as much as Daisy's Camelbak bottle was. They're all in good shape, but I absolutely understand Daisy's concerns. So, a few days ago, I told her "look, I never want a stainless steel or glass bottle, but I can recycle these old ones and get new ones every few years to minimize plastic leaching. How's that?"

So...

There we go. I'll toss the other ones into the recycle bin and they can go out to the curb for recycling next week. 

I do not know what Daisy is doing with her old Camelbak bottles but I am hoping she's recycling them too, as I am with mine. I haven't actually asked.

Note -- I still have a very cheap, dollar-store-purchased 28oz plastic bottle I use for trips. It'll be going with me to North Carolina. But, it is new; I purchased it for the Canada trip last year, and it is BPA-free. Still, it's cheap and I'll use it for another year or so before I recycle it. It's just really good to be able to have water in an airport, and good to be able to drop a packet of Liquid IV into it to have a drink when necessary. I used it every day on the Canada trip and was thankful to have it, but it's nothing special. 

I can finally say that I'm ready for the trip; aside from a few very little things, there's nothing I really have left to do before we leave. Therefore, in the time between now and when we go, my plan is to shift into vacation mode as much as possible. I still have some days left to work, but as much as possible, my mind will be elsewhere and will be counting down the hours. 

Countdown to North Carolina, Part I: I'm Going to Goddamned Die

 Well. Here we are. 

As we get closer to our trip, we've had some unfortunate things happen over the past week or two. Nothing major, but enough things to where I'm like holy shit, I just need stuff to stop happening and mini-crises to stop occurring so that I can just get the fuck out of here and away from Nebraska for a few days.

I don't generally air a lot of my more personal stuff on here and that's not going to change, but today I had my first doctor's appointment in a year -- and my blood is apparently the consistency of maple syrup and my A1C is a full point higher than it was last year. It is at its highest-ever number, unfortunately. 

I am very frustrated by this and spent a few hours telling Daisy "I'm going to goddamned die" in not only fear, but worked into song on multiple occasions as well.

I am frustrated that even though I've lost 75 pounds in the past eight years, became a vegetarian, quit smoking almost a full decade ago, and have cleaned up the vast majority of my diet, it does not appear that I am able to control my diabetes without being on either high-level different drugs or GLP-1 injectables which absolutely wreck my digestive system and essentially give me explosive IBS. 

But. But.

I'm not dead yet.

I got my prescriptions all refilled, and my new Metformin and the Chantix I specifically asked for has already arrived in the mail via Amazon Pharmacy. I also got a vaccination for pneumonia -- which, generally, isn't given to most folks for another ten years or so age-wise, but the doctor said that since I have diabetes and I vape, well, can't hurt. So, I shrugged and told her sure.

Now my arm hurts and it has ached like hell since I got the vaccination. It is what it is. 

The other prescriptions I need have not yet been fully cleared by my insurance, and I'll likely wait until I'm back from the trip to order them anyway as I'm not running low on them anytime soon. My doctor will discuss with me on Monday what she believes to be the best path forward for my diabetes treatment, she'll send the prescriptions over to Amazon, and we'll go from there. 

As an aside, we both really like our new doctor. She seems wonderful, patient, listens to our concerns, answers every possible question we could have about our care, and wants to get to know us as people rather than just as numbers or cogs in a hospital system. I really appreciate that. Battling my diabetes is hard enough, especially as it progresses, and I really need that sympathetic ear and medical assistance when I'm so frustrated. It's going to be an uphill battle no matter how I want to look at it.

But, for the next few weeks, that battle is suspended; I am not going to let all of this affect our vacation to visit my parents. I'm not going to shame myself into feeling guilty for every piece of food I put into my mouth, I'm not going to force myself to look at the "healthy options" at any restaurant we visit or grocery aisle we peruse -- and I'm not going to question every little action I do or don't do while on vacation. The point of it is vacation; anything else can wait until we return home to normalcy and our regular lives resume. 

We got a lot accomplished this weekend. After our doctor appointments on Friday, we stopped and got Chipotle for lunch -- something that is now becoming a tradition after doctor appointments, I guess -- and I took a nap in the evening while Daisy absolutely dismantled her closet to help get it cleaned out, to fill giveaway bags, find some clothing she wants to pack for the trip, and to pare down her stuff. She is about 1/3 of the way done with cleaning it all out, roughly, and I am very proud of her. I helped her where I could once I woke from my nap, and yesterday we dropped off several bags of donations at the Goodwill -- also tossing in the $30 toaster oven I'd gotten us over a decade ago that we no longer use.

Yesterday we did that, we visited the parents for a bit to see them and talk about our doctor appointments, then went to Costco to pick up some healthy food options, protein bars for the trip, and some essentials before stopping at Natural Grocers on the way home to get ingredients for healthy, gluten-free crust pizzas -- which was our dinner.

Now, it's 1:30 in the morning and Daisy is in bed, and I am winding down my last night of the weekend as our next winter storm is winding up.

I wish I were kidding.

Look, I'm glad that neither Daisy nor I have to leave the house for our jobs anymore. I'm glad that for the most part, our house is pretty sturdy and it takes a lot to damage it with weather (that doesn't mean our rickety picket fence isn't in danger when winds like that whip through, though), and I'm glad that the car is full of gas and we have a new furnace that keeps us warm. 

But, it's the middle of March. It's time for this snowstorm shit to end. We went from a tornado threat last weekend to a blizzard threat this weekend. 

The great irony of all of this? Tomorrow morning, Monday morning -- it's supposed to be single-digits cold with wind chills well below zero.

By Thursday and Friday? Eighty degrees and gorgeous -- a veritable heat wave and our first tastes of summer weather here in Nebraska. 

I can't make this up. Weather in the midwest is bipolar, and it's one of the many reasons I can't wait to be able to move away from the middle of the country. 

This storm is also going to spawn severe weather in the south and southeast, including the Carolinas, and I shared a warning about it with my dad over Facebook a couple of days ago so that he'd have the heads up on it.

His response?

"Life is one disaster after another."

"Well that's a cheerful outlook," I replied.

Turns out my mother broke her tooth on Thursday night and required a $2100 crown to be put on it Friday morning. She had not told me anything about this, and I'd just spoken to her that morning via text. So I asked her, again via text, in the afternoon if she was going to tell me about that. She ignored that question but confirmed that the $2100 was with a five percent discount.

"A whole five percent, huh?" I asked. I did not get a response.

It's things like this why I'm not going to tell my parents about how my diabetes has progressed. I might talk to my dad about it in private, but it would just make my mother worry and -- more than that -- I'd be judged for it and scrutinized for everything I eat or everything I do while I'm there. And I'm not going to do that. Again, it's a vacation. I'm not going to make myself purposely miserable while I'm on vacation.

Also, I'm sure that my mother didn't tell me about her tooth for the same reasons -- she didn't want me to worry or consider changing our trip for her. Either that or her autism makes her oblivious and she didn't think about it. It's slightly frustrating, but it's her way. It is what it is. I love my parents, but I don't have the daily connection with them like I do with Daisy's parents, and I certainly don't see them every week like I do Daisy's parents, so it can be difficult to gauge interactions with them, especially via text. Maybe I'm projecting more than I should. I don't know, to be honest with you.

Anyway.

I am spending the night doing laundry and hanging out with Mable at my feet as a small preparation for the upcoming trip. This will be a short week for me; I'm going to take off Wednesday night as well (this was originally unplanned) to get a little breathing space and get some last-minute stuff done around the house to make it look and feel better and not be ashamed of any of that once the catsitter comes to take care of the children. Daisy is spending her week working as per the usual; we have bills to pay and she still has to pack and do her part to make the house presentable, so it's otherwise a pretty normal week for us. I just want to put my head down and get through it.

Marching Onward, Part II

 We got nothing.

Well, perhaps I shouldn't say "nothing" -- we got about fifteen minutes of decent rain, about thirty seconds of small hail, and some rumbles of thunder and flashy lightning before all of it moved off and became a complete non-event. It was, overall, a complete swing-and-a-miss by the weather forecasters, though.

I would say I'm disappointed, but of course I'm not -- I am very grateful that once again we escaped a serious storm threat, wasn't in the path of anything severe or any tornadoes, and woke up on Saturday morning without a single cloud in the sky, all day.  But, the anxiety and stress destroyed most of my weekend, and burned away what I would generally classify as "free time."

I'm also very glad that there wasn't widespread damage and destruction for anyone else, too. It looked like the worst of the storms were down in Oklahoma and up in Michigan, where there were some damaging tornadoes. Still a swing-and-a-miss for our area but I sympathize with the folks in those other areas who did get hit. Interestingly enough, there's not been a lot of media coverage of it, or if there has I haven't seen any of it.

Tonight, while watching a documentary on the Phoenix Lights in 1997, I reassessed all of my luggage and packing for the trip. My suitcase weighs in at 40.1 pounds, and my backpack has been reassessed to make it much lighter than before -- essentially carrying only but a single-outfit change of clothes and a pair of sandals, my vapes, some spillover comics, my meds, and the Kindle. For me, really, it's just a shift from carrying anything and everything in my backpack to carrying most of it in the bright neon green suitcase I purchased to replace the old one. The suitcase will be checked baggage and will be whooshed off on the underside of the plane, and my backpack will be just fine to carry any and all other travel essentials. 

Daisy has not started packing yet, of course. She doesn't know what she's going to pack. She talked about packing a swimsuit earlier tonight, even though it's very likely going to be too cold to spend any real time in the actual water at the beach. I told her to pack whatever she likes, to not overthink it, and prepare for weather that will be, apparently, much like it has been here in Omaha -- in the 60s/70s for highs and lows in the 40s/50s. It may hit 80 a day or two, and it may dip into the high 30s at night, but eh, it'll be somewhere in that ballpark. For me, 90% of my wardrobe already covers those temperatures and weather conditions, but for Daisy that is not the case. I reminded her that 90% of where we'll be when we're there is at home, so just...dress for comfort, I guess. My parents know her, they know I've been married to her for almost twelve years -- we don't have anyone there to impress. I don't see it as any different than when we go visit her parents here in Omaha every weekend. 

To those ends, a few months ago I purchased vacuum travel bags that come with a little USB-charged vacuum pump about the size of a soda can. The bags themselves are nothing special, they're sort of like cellophane ziploc bags -- but you can stuff them loosely, seal them, and then use the hand vacuum to suck out all of the air, making the bags shrink and compress down to condense and save space. Almost all of my clothing for the trip was put into two of the bags and vacuumed down to the thinnest, smallest size possible to go into my suitcase. Does it save you on weight? Psh, no. But does it save a lot of space? Yes. Weight won't be an issue with my stuff, as a good 15ish pounds of what's in my suitcase is a giant box of comics for my dad. I doubt I'll bring home another 35 pounds worth of items because I don't expect to spend that much money while I'm there on anything but gas and restaurants. 

We also have to finalize everything else with the Catsitter, including doing a withdrawal of cash from the bank to pay her (it's really just the easiest way, honestly) and making sure she has the key to the house once more. I've already ordered the food the cats will eat off Chewy and it will be delivered in another day or two. Everything should be more than sufficient to keep the cats fed and happy while we're gone. This is now no small feat as they really love the insect protein food we got to help settle Gary's stomach, and they're going through a six-pound bag of it ($40) about every two weeks, give or take.

It'll be Dolly's first time without us home, however, which we're sort of worried about. She's a good little cat, but she is very much just a baby, and she is very attached to Daisy. Being across town visiting Daisy's parents for a few hours or going out to run errands for an afternoon is a lot different than leaving for almost a full week. It would concern me more if we hadn't done it last year, twice, when we'd only had Gary for a few months, and if we hadn't done it the year before when we'd only had Mable for a few months, and the year before that when we'd only had Hank for five weeks before we went to visit my parents then. It feels somewhat different now, though -- this will be our first trip where Pete won't be here to watch over the young ones and give them comfort as the rock of the household. Of course, Dolly never met Pete, so she wouldn't know the difference. I personally think it will feel weird to return home after a long trip and not have the old man waiting there for us. 

I guess Hank is starting to fill the old man role more now though. He is the reigning king of the household now, after all.

Hank's eye is completely better again, by the way -- it went from fully clouded over and looking nasty to completely clear after a week of antibiotics (which we always keep on hand for him) and saline. We restarted his regimen of steroids again yesterday and he seems to be back to normal, at least until his next flare-up, anyway. His next check-in appointment is on April 23rd. We think he'll likely be okay until then.

Gary's stomach issues seem to have mostly, if not completely, cleared up with the change to the bug food, no free-feeding of treats, and the slow re-incorporation of seafood back into his diet. I'm mostly convinced at this point that he was allergic to some of the chemicals, food dyes, or filler ingredients in the various dry foods I was using as treats for all of them (which I slowly weaned all of them off of after Pete's death). I'm leaning strongly towards a wheat or corn allergy, or an allergy to the food dyes. Nothing he has now has any of that stuff in it, and he seems to be leaps and bounds better. We do still have him on a mild medication to keep him from getting constipated, but once we can completely eliminate chicken from his diet as well (to see if that may also be an allergen of his) we're going to attempt to wean him off that medication to see if he has any issues. The bonus here is that he and the other cats all love tuna and salmon-based food, and getting grain-free tuna and salmon-based food is way easier than trying to feed Gary other weird-ass "novel proteins" like kangaroo, rabbit, or lamb. He and Charlie both have a joint vet appointment -- yes, both of the Double Trouble Boys™ at once -- a couple of weeks after we return from North Carolina to get their yearly vaccinations and checkups, and we're going to have a fresh run of his bloodwork done then to see if he presents with any ongoing irritations. If he doesn't, then we can likely consider the problem resolved.

It may also just be something he grows out of as he gets older, too. Hank had what presented as a mild chicken allergy when he was a kitten -- he had a little of the ol' bloody butthole and farted like a racehorse -- and he quickly grew out of it after a few months. We've not even had Gary for a year yet, and he just turned a year old in January. It's very clear he's got a lot more growing to do, as he's still a pretty small cat. We do seem to think that as he's been getting over this allergy, however, that he is getting larger. It may just be a small growth spurt, as Maine Coons (and he is 25% Maine Coon, the highest percentage in the household) generally grow until they're 3 or 4 before they stop. 

No, we don't yet know Dolly's percentages. She has doubled in size since we got her, but she is growing very slowly. Based on her features alone I am guessing she's in the high 30% range of Maine Coon, and told Daisy the number in my head was 38%. That would be exceedingly high, but she does have the tufts and facial structure of a Maine Coon, and she is very vocal. She's also developing some tabby-like tiger striping in her smoky gray fur that contrasts with the black in her, but we just don't know -- her results could come in tomorrow or it could be another few weeks.

Yes, that's Dolly, both of those pictures are of the same cat, no more than two days apart.

So yeah, we don't know.

Tonight we turn the clocks forward; the time change into daylight savings time happened about an hour ago, while I was doing laundry and was about halfway through this post. I don't like the whole "lose an hour" thing, but it is what it is. At least it does not really affect me. I'm sure it will affect Daisy in the morning when she gets up for work, but for me...well, I'm mostly nocturnal anyhow and have to be, so it's another hour closer to the sweet release of death? I don't know. Many folks have strong opinions about daylight savings time and I've never given a shit about it other than it means it's lighter earlier in the morning in the summer and, once the seasons catch up, it's still light outside at 9pm. That's all I really notice about it. I still work the same hours and the same days I always do, and still sleep when I need to and get up when I have to. Etc. 

While we've brushed with 80 degrees a few days this year already, and will again for the next few days, the next week or two looks like we're back to mostly normal pre-Spring Equinox temperatures and weather here in Omaha. We have our doctor's appointments on Friday, when the high is supposed to be 46 and the low 32. That's fairly normal for this time of year. I don't expect temperatures to be in the 70s every day until April or early May, which (ironically) is when we tend to have the most tornado and severe weather threats here in Nebraska. It's still March, and early March at that -- I don't think we're completely out of the woods yet on snow chances. In 2013, when Daisy and I had just gotten engaged and I came up to Omaha for a week after I'd graduated in May, it snowed on us like hell the night we went to go see Star Trek Into Darkness in the theater, and in 2014 -- during my last final exams I would ever give to my students in early May -- it snowed on finals day in Wichita. Big, fluffy flakes too. 

Thankfully, years like that are few and far between. But I'd take that over tornadoes. 

Anyway.

I am still trying to work my way through my latest short story. Saturday nights are really my only nights of the week I can write and really focus on my writing, and last week I was far too tired. I wrote about a page last week and have been obsessing over that page in my mind for the entire week this week. I'll likely delete said page and start over, as I was fighting to stay awake while writing it last week. This week...well, as I write this, it's 4:22 in the morning, and I'm just not getting to it tonight. I'd like to; I wish I had the energy to really sit down and focus deeply on it, but I don't. My goal is to get a draft of it finished before we go to North Carolina, as I'd really like my dad to read it and tell me his thoughts. He is the most voracious reader I know and probably reads thirty books a year. I know, however, that my writing style isn't for everyone, and I would like to get a heavy reader's opinion on tightening or loosening any story elements, or punching up some dialogue and descriptive language. I used to think I was great at dialogue -- and I am, for screenplays and plays -- but in general fiction, short stories, etc...I will read what I've written and it seems flat and wooden, as if these aren't characters talking but puppets.

I really wanted to take the fiction route when I got my MFA, but at the time I didn't have the writing chops to do it; I was much better at poetry. In poetry you can make anything sound deep and introspective with little effort. You can sound like the most intelligent or interesting person in the room if you know how to string words together artistically and use wondrous imagery. This is much harder to do in writing fiction. Dive too far into description and you bore the reader, dive too deeply into dialogue and the reader gets lost as to why the conversation is taking place. Spend too long setting up a premise and hitting action beats for the payoff and you risk the reader becoming uninterested, but if you throw the reader directly into the action and force them to figure out what is happening and why, you run the risk of confusing and alienating them. Even for the talented it can be very hard to keep a cohesive narrative structure in writing fiction, depending on the subject matter. I make it harder on myself (admittedly) by being a genre writer and by consciously attempting to elicit an uneasy vibe throughout the pieces I write. It's all a very fine line. Everyone wants to write the Great American Novel™ but few truly understand what an undertaking that is. 

I also hate revising and editing, and I am piss poor at taking any criticism, even if constructive and valid. So that makes it even harder. 

But.

I am 43 years old. If I don't write these stories out now, get them out of my head and onto the page, I never will. I'll grow old, acquire dementia or have a heart attack or stroke, and they'll die with me. I need to leave some kind of legacy behind. I always said that I don't care if my writing is a critical success or failure -- if I can write one thing, just one thing, that gets put into the Norton Anthology of American Literature for generations to come, I'll feel like I accomplished something with my life. My ashes can blow away in the breeze or my bones can rot underground for all eternity, but if I get one thing into that goddamn book to where future college professors can point at it and be like "look, this guy grew up poor in West Virginia, worked in teaching and telecommunications for years to pay the bills, and then published this one story that took the world by storm" I will feel like all of this hasn't been a waste. 

Marching Onward, Part I

 So, here we are. Welcome to March, everyone. With that comes, of course, our first threat of severe weather for the year.

Yes, that's right, today we're set up for any and all kinds of severe weather -- anything from severe thunderstorms and giant hail to straight-line winds and possible tornadoes this evening from about 5pm to 9pm -- you know, the worst time for that to happen because it's dark outside.

Sigh.

My weather anxiety has been well-documented here over the years. I've not exactly been quiet about it. I was hoping that we wouldn't start getting these weather threats until later into the spring and early summer months, i.e. once we had gone to visit my parents in NC and had returned, but it doesn't look like that's in the cards this time around. After a decidedly very mild winter with only two storms of truly measurable, accumulating snow and ice, now we're beginning meteorological spring and tornado season in the northern plains, and I...I am just so tired of it. 

There is always, of course, the chance that the forecast will amount to nothing -- the storms may form south or east of us and we get nothing but a bit of rain and wind -- this does, on occasion, happen, and when it does I am relieved. However, even when it does, the anxiety leading up to whatever does or doesn't happen is still there and still very taxing on my body and stress levels. When it happens on a weekend (like it is this time around), it's worse, as I feel that it sucks my weekend away from me -- until the threat is over, dealing with it and trying to compartmentalize my fear and anxieties about it takes all of my time and energy, leaving me drained. It's similar to how people say autistics -- if they have an appointment or something later in the day -- are useless the entire day leading up to it because they're hyperfixated on it. 

Well, that's me, except replace the appointment with storm predictions. And my dustings of autism are well-documented here on this website.

Time is at a premium right now on weekends anyhow; we only have a short few weeks before we'll touch down in North Carolina to visit my parents, and in that time we still have a lot to do around the house and to prepare. Daisy and I were supposed to spend the day today cleaning out the back yard and back porch area, but with the pre-storms we had last night (yes, because spring), the backyard is now a rain-drenched mudhole. Daisy's father's birthday was yesterday, too, and we're planning to stop over there today to visit for a bit and give him his presents. By the time we return home, we'll be entering the severe weather threat time window for the day. 

I am tired.

 A week from today, Daisy and I have appointments with our new doctor -- a new doctor we had to select in a new network because, of course, insurance coverage and changes from our new jobs and new benefit policies. I've stayed up to date on my medications through somewhat nefarious means -- i.e. I got an e-prescription from an online prescription supplier and ordered all of my meds generically and in bulk, so I'm set for nearly the next year -- but it will be nice to get my prescriptions officially renewed by a doctor and sent over to Amazon Pharmacy where I can get my insurance to cover them and keep them rolling in on a schedule. It will also be nice to get my labs done, to check where I am when it comes to my A1C, and to see what my options are for other diabetes meds -- I was on Trulicity, as you know, up until late last year when my refills ran out. It wrecked my stomach and guts, and I'd really like to see what other alternatives there are. Wegovy comes in a once-a-day pill now, after all. Like, let's get on that horse if possible, and see if my insurance covers it. 

I would also like to see if I can get a prescription for Chantix -- the stop-smoking medication -- so I can see if I can finally get off vaping. Mind you, I love to vape, but it is ungodly expensive now and nowhere near as easy or cheap to obtain supplies as it was 4-5 years ago. And it's just another habit, another addiction, that I'd really like to be free of if possible. A quick glance at Amazon Pharmacy tells me it's usually fully covered under most insurances, too. So, there's that. To be fair, Daisy has wanted me to get off the vapes for years. 

But yeah, prep for the NC trip continues. This weekend -- as long as the house is still here after the predicted severe weather tonight -- I need to do a reassessment of what's needed and what's not for the trip. I packed for it a month ago and since then the suitcase has just been sitting in my office upstairs untouched. I need to go through it based on weather forecasts for the area and re-parse/re-examine everything I've packed to pare it all down as much as possible. It is usually very likely that I'll bring home a bunch of new things from Gabe's as well as as many bags of Utz chips I can stuff into our luggage. I'll also need to, basically, figure out a way to get all of the comics to my Dad without making my suitcase overweight for the trip. All of this is, predictably, harder than you'd think.

Yes -- it's not even a full week there. Still. Still. 

I mentioned last month, when I began prepping for the trip, that when we had the wiggle room of a few weeks before it, I planned to go to Amazon and pre-ship some stuff down there to avoid the need to a) take it with us in our luggage, or b) to purchase it while we were there. I originally had a giant list of about $150 worth of stuff, but I later looked it over and was like this is ludicrous, Brandon and pared it down quite a bit.

Well, I shipped the stuff last week. It included some vegan protein cookies, a case of energy drinks, some almonds, K-cups of coffee, and some chicken jerky treats for the dogs. All of it has since arrived. I don't plan to bring any of it back with me -- the energy drinks I will drink the vast majority of while I'm there, the coffee and cookies are as much for my parents as they are for me/us (and likely Daisy will partake of neither), the almonds are basically a treat for all of us, and the dog treats are -- of course -- for the dogs.

We're down there at a weird time; there are no holidays surrounding our trip, my parents' birthdays aren't for another five months after the trip, and none of the tourist crowds are in town until after Memorial Day. It should all be very peaceful, and we have zero plans whatsoever while we're there. We have nowhere we have to go, nobody we have to see, and nothing to interrupt just straight-up relaxation and downtime. We'd like to take them out to dinner once or twice, and I would like to find a comic shop or music shop to take my Dad to (similar to how we take my mother to Gabe's), but we have nothing concrete on the docket. I would really like to just lounge on the couch or on the porch and feel my responsibilities melt away for a few days. It's really all I want to do. I don't even know if the farmer's market is open down there yet. My primary goal is good food and some relaxation. I don't care about anything else, really -- I've got a ton of things to read on my Kindle and no major distractions. 

I also get the sense that Daisy really needs the vacation too. She's getting bogged down by life and responsibilities and work just like I am -- and, of course, right when the weather starts getting nice, we start getting severe storm and tornado forecasts, because Nebraska. 

The Boy Shadows

 The vast majority of the snow has all melted now, as temperatures have been up in the 40s and 50s (and brushing with 60) this week. There's not a lot that was really heavily affected by the snowstorm for more than a day or two at most, and thankfully those were end-of-week days. 

I have an eye appointment at the end of March to get my prescription checked and updated. I'll likely get new lenses put in at least two pairs of my older, more premium frames, and then get another swath of new glasses from my normal glasses website a few days/weeks later. Having a FSA card is a wonderful thing. 

Daisy and I both have doctor's appointments a week or so before we leave for NC, with a new doctor in a new network (unfortunately), to have physicals and to get prescription renewals set up. I'm also going to ask for a prescription to Chantix (or whatever the generic equivalent is now, I guess) so that I can possibly, finally, get off the nicotine and quit vaping. 

Tomorrow afternoon we have our furnace inspection done by the utility board folks. I will need to be awake earlier than usual for it, though this generally isn't a problem. I doubt it will take longer than a few minutes, but it is what it is.

Friday, I get paid.

Saturday morning we take Dolly in for her final shots and final checkup before she's done for the next year. At that time we'll likely have to set up appointments for at least one or two of the other cats for their next round of yearly checkups and vaccines, as the Double Trouble Boys™ will be due in soon. 

Hank's eye is, regrettably, looking pretty rough. There's a large cloudy patch covering most of it at this point; it's not a bunch of little spots there anymore but one big, white, cataract-on-the-outside blob. We have temporarily discontinued the steroid (which is, primarily, to clear it up and keep it clear after it's already healed) and have switched back over to the saline and antibiotics for the time being to see if we can stop this in its tracks and get it to clear up. Apparently, even on steroids, flare-ups like this can happen and are considered fairly commonplace. It's just frustrating though, that after fighting this off for nearly a year and finally getting it to completely clear up to where we could say he was at about 95% normal and recovered, to now have a big setback in it with a new flare up. 

We also don't know at what point, if it doesn't get better, we should try to get him back to the eye doctor. He has an appointment already set for end of April, but we may have to bump that up if he doesn't improve -- adding to an already busy March where, in the middle of that, we'll have a trip out of state for a week. 

Adding to this, this time around it seems like Hank's eye is actually bothering him, where before it seemed like he was just normal Hank with a clouded eye. This time it seems more sensitive and he has been clinging to us for love and support. This is very sweet, of course, but it makes me sad. There's not really anything we can do for pain if his eye actually hurts. The flare-up, by all literature we've read on it, just has to basically run its course and then we treat it with steroids again. We do want to get him in though if it seems like it's not getting better, because maybe there is an alternate treatment or an alternate steroid they could put him on for it. It just takes time, however.

I'm not going to complain about the extra love, though. Hank spent the entire night upstairs with Daisy a few nights ago, kneading on her and kissing her and wanting to be held, completely interrupting her sleep for the night. He's been sleeping with me every day in bed too, usually right next to me in Daisy's normal spot but also sometimes a little closer, or at my feet, and he has really enjoyed what I call "quiet Dad time" in my office with me when none of the other cats are around much more as of late -- this is time where he can be the center of attention and get all the love and rubs, eat as much food as he wants from the bowl on my ottoman, and then pass out and rest peacefully without anyone else around him. I can tell he's not liking the eye thing, and I'm sure he doesn't understand why it's happening. I feel so bad for the big orange man.

Gary has also been incredibly loving and close with me as of late -- he has essentially become my shadow. Now, it was never a secret that Gary was a Daddy's Boy™ -- he has been since we adopted him. While he really loves Daisy, it is quite clear that he is absolutely my son. Wherever I am, he's my shadow. If I'm working, he's in the room with me. If I'm in bed, he's either on me or on the cat tree where he can see me. If I'm in my office, he generally wants to be in here, and if he doesn't, he's in the hallway outside my room so he knows when I come and go. He is an incredibly sweet little man. 

He also really loves Dolly and wants to spend as much time with her as he can. He cuddles with her, he plays with her, he grooms her, and he frequently sleeps with her or next to her. As Dolly likes being the center of attention, this is great for her. It's a win-win. 

Dolly is very clearly a Mama's Girl™ though. She loves me a lot, but her love for Daisy is something else, something powerful that I've never seen in any other cat other than Pete when he was still with us. She is very strongly bonded with Daisy and it is approaching Pete levels of bonding. It's going to be devastating for her when we're gone for a week in North Carolina; I don't know what Dolly will do with herself during that time. Likely she'll just bond closer with Gary and Charlie, but still.

Anyway.

Our taxes are done and have been done; we have already received the state refund and are expecting the federal refund over the next few days. This is the first year in a few years that we haven't had to owe and are actually getting a substantial refund. It's not a lot -- it's not life-changing money or anything, but it's nice. We've been struggling a little here and there when it comes to bills and groceries -- not horribly or anything, we're not at "either we can eat or pay the electric bill" levels, of course, but we've been tightening the belt line a lot and have been living far more paycheck-to-paycheck than usual. The tax refunds will help with that, and so will the fact that Daisy has two big bonuses coming in -- and got a raise that kicks in at the beginning of March. 

I looked into when I am eligible for a merit-based (read: longevity-based/cost-of-living-increase) raise, and because I started when I did, I've got another full year to go before I qualify. Anyone hired during or after March 2025 is not eligible for this go-around. Well, I don't think my first day at this new company -- even though I'm doing the exact same job I've been doing since 2014 -- was until mid-March, so I don't qualify yet. However, I should be getting my chunk of my quarterly bonus on this coming check or on my next one. That's usually a few extra hundred dollars or so. It's supposed to even out to $2500ish a year for bonuses (pre-tax) based on my contract. So, when it hits, even after taxes, it's nice. 

Life otherwise is mostly status quo. I just want to survive the week to get a little downtime. I so desperately crave the weekends for some peace and privacy these days, more than ever before. I am getting seriously burned out at work, to the point where I just don't care anymore, I can't care, about these people or their problems or their crises -- or office politics or following process or even answering my phone. I'll sit there and stare at my phone and watch it ring -- if it's important, they'll leave a voicemail...or, like they should have done in the first place, they'll send in an email. None of it matters. 

I had a phone conversation over the weekend with my big boss, my executive director, where I essentially asked him "you're reaching retirement age, why do you keep doing this to yourself?" in a more indirect way. He responded that his position pays him enough to where he can go buy stacks of laptops and tablets from pawn shops and thrift stores and donate them to kids in foster care or otherwise wards of the state in, I guess, orphanages and the like, so that they have computers and can better function in normal society. If I didn't know this man as well as I do, I'd think that he was making it up, that it was complete bullshit -- but I know he's telling the truth. Many people have tried to villainize my executive director over the years, for one reason or another, and usually for reasons outside of his control. After all, we are always going to be the villain in someone's story, and I am not immune to that either -- I know several people offhand who would call me the villain in theirs. But, in reality, this man is not a villain, but one of the most upstanding individuals I've ever met. I am proud to work for him and with him; he has saved my job on numerous occasions, and I wouldn't be where I am in my career today if it were not for him. Is he perfect? No. None of us are. But he tries. He tries really hard. 

That does not change the challenges of his job or of mine; I am still chronically understaffed and greatly overworked, doing the jobs of at least three -- if not more -- people every night I'm on shift. That's a systemic issue, it's a budgeting issue with our new company. While I like this new company more than the last, it's primarily because they pay more and are far less intrusive in our daily lives than the old one was. With that detachment, however, comes issues with staffing and resources. I'm sure the same can be said for any number of companies out there in similar fields. But I will say, it just wears me down after awhile. I was built for this shit a decade ago; I am not now. My boss -- who started a couple weeks after I did and we worked our way up through the ranks together -- has been a director since long before Covid happened, has been my boss for about 7-8 years at this juncture, and is just as fed up as I am, maybe more. He's looking for ways out, looking for ways to get certified in different fields so he can move up in the world. And I don't blame him -- he would excel in a technical job because while he is good at those things, he is admittedly a piss-poor manager of people. 

And I...just have no desire to move up in the world or learn new things, get new certifications, none of that -- I don't have the patience and mental capacity to do that anymore, and I certainly don't want to try to cram my head full of new knowledge that I just don't care about to try to get a "competitive edge" or some other happy horseshit like that. I am tired. I feel so much older than I thought I would at age 43. 

Omaha Snowpocalypse 2026, Part II

 So, we got nearly a foot of snow. I don't know exactly how much because of drifting. But it was a lot. 

I fell asleep in the mid-afternoon hours on Thursday; it was halfway planned and halfway not. My sleep schedule has been very weird, and it gets weirder when I have what I like to call "unplanned" time off. When my list of responsibilities thins out, my body's need for rest takes over. It was not snowing when I fell asleep.

By the time I woke up, a little more than two hours later, there was already probably two inches or so on the ground and structures. Daisy was just getting off work for the day and every time we looked out the window, the accumulation was worse -- and unrelenting. 

We had dinner, watched the new episode of Starfleet Academy, and looked out again. It wasn't stopping.

We finally went back to bed around 11 -- it was still coming down quite hard. Everything was covered. I could not tell where our yard and driveway ended and the street began. The main road (which we can see from our house) was also covered, and any traffic on it was slowed to a crawl. 

And then I went to sleep. 

When I awoke in the morning, it was bright and sunny -- not a cloud in the sky -- and there was nearly a foot of snow on the ground. On the roof of our back porch, which I can see clearly out my office window, the drifting made it hard to calculate exact amounts. There was about 5-6 inches at the edge of the roof, where the winds would hit it and make it drift the most, to nearly a foot where the roof meets the side of the house. In the driveway, it was about the same, with a lot higher totals closer to the house than to the road.

I wanted to get up and shovel it immediately -- I have far more energy when I first wake up than when I do in the mid-afternoon and evening hours, when I tend to crash out. Daisy is the opposite; she wants to wake up slowly and peacefully, get up, and get something to eat before she feels like a person again. On my days off, that is not me -- I'm the kind of guy who wants to roll out of bed, heavily caffeinate himself until fully awake and energetic, and then be go-go-go until the afternoon hours, when it's time to retreat back to my cave for hibernation. When we run errands on weekends, Daisy never wants to do it when I want to. I want to get out of the house at like 8am, do everything that needs to be done, and then be back home and done for the day by 1-2pm. Daisy would rather leave the house at 1-2pm. We're not the same at all in that regard. 

Someone once asked me if I'd benefit from a really early first-shift working schedule, like a 5am to 2pm or something like that, and I laughed and said absolutely not. I am naturally wired to be this way; if you were to put structure around it, it would become work and would become a prison, and I would hate it. 

It's things like this that make me wonder if I'd ever actually write professionally if I were suddenly able to do so, freed of all other responsibilities and jobs. I don't know what my answer is -- because when the hobby becomes a profession, it becomes work, and I am very opposed to work. 

We did, eventually, shovel the driveway. We were helped by the sun, which was warm enough (despite below-freezing temperatures) to melt off a good bit of the bottom half of the driveway and part of the sidewalk. It maybe took us an hour to fully shovel everything. The worst part was the stubborn accumulation and ice right up against the garage door, where the sun never hits. That was tough, and required liberal application of ice melt to get it to break up and burn away. 

The rest of the night was uneventful; we came inside and showered, then ate dinner, and I started getting really, really tired -- like the shoveling had sapped all my strength. I didn't and hadn't felt like that even before dinner, but I certainly felt like it afterward. I had to force myself to stay awake and pay attention to the last ten minutes of The Pitt, although even now I'm not sure I actually remember what happened. We finished it, I took my plates out to the kitchen, gave Daisy a kiss, and five minutes later I was in bed. 

This was 6pm-ish. The sun had barely set. I went dead to the world and was out, sleeping harder than I have slept in recent memory.

Understand, of course, that it is difficult for me to get really good, really deep sleep. I struggle with it on a daily basis. I have mentioned this here before in the past -- it is a rarity for me to get more than 3-4 hours of sleep at a time anymore, even when I'm completely physically and mentally exhausted. My body and circadian rhythms are used to shift work; they're used to sleeping a few hours where and when I can and then being back up and at it for the next long slog of whatever is ahead of me. The last time I slept for a very long stretch was last fall when I accidentally drank NyQuil instead of DayQuil, and it essentially put me into a coma for about 18 hours. 

I'm exaggerating a bit there, but it really was like eight hours of solid sleep, awake for an hour, another three hours of sleep, awake for an hour, repeat until it was all out of my system. It basically burned most of a weekend and made me a zombie for the time it didn't burn. 

This is partially why I avoid NyQuil unless absolutely necessary, but will drink DayQuil like water when I'm sick. There's too much daily bullshit I have to deal with to be able to sleep for long stretches of time like that.

Anyway.

The first time I awoke, it was very dark. Daisy was in bed next to me and she'd just turned on the night light (a small booklight we keep on the bedframe). Mable was curled up next to me at my hip. I started to reposition myself to get comfortable and Daisy made sure to tell me Mable was there so that I wouldn't disturb her or fling her off me like a slingshot when I rolled over. I only have a vague recollection of all of this, and passed back out. 

When I next awoke it was an hour or two later. Daisy was dead asleep next to me and no cats were to be found anywhere. I got up, finally, and tried hard to wake myself enough to function. I had laundry to do and some other light around-the-house duties to accomplish. It was around 1am.

By 3:30 or so, I texted Daisy to let her know I was going to lay back down for a bit to see if I could get some more rest -- and that if I wasn't awake by the time she got up to make sure she got me up. We had plans for Saturday that we didn't want to alter. I watched some Tiktok videos for a bit and then, when I felt myself dozing, turned it off and slipped into sleep in my chair.

What happened next was truly terrifying.

I dreamed that I was downstairs at my desk working, I had my music on, and it was any normal night. My phone lit up with a text message from my mother, saying that my dad didn't feel well. I acknowledged it mentally and made the mental note that once I was done with what I was working on, I'd pick up the phone and text her back. I had the phone next to me on my desk when I could hear my mother's voice calling my name through it, as if a call had connected without my knowledge. 

I picked up the phone and said "Mom? Mom?" trying to see if she could hear me. She could not. The phone seemed locked up, like I could not figure out how to get it working. I could hear a commotion and background noise on the call, yet the phone wouldn't let me access the call. I remember, in my dream, thinking that if I got up and went to the next room, maybe I could get a better signal or better light to look at the phone or something of that nature -- I can't recall now, of course. I walked into the kitchen and heard two loud bangs, as if someone were knocking or pounding on the door or walls in the living room. This was incredibly startling and -- in the dream -- I immediately filled with a sense of panic and dread. I walked back into the living room to see the French doors right next to my desk open by maybe six inches or so, and in the yard behind it what appeared to be a pair of leather working gloves and a set of tools that looked like bolt cutters laying in the grass.

It was at this point where my brain was like nope, you're waking the fuck up now and so I did, alone, in my chair in my darkened office, in peace and silence. According to the clock on the wall, I'd been asleep for less than forty minutes, and in that time I'd not only passed out hard but had slept hard enough to have a full fledged nightmare from which my brain had forced me back awake. I was groggy, I didn't know what was real and what was dream at the time. I immediately picked up my phone to check the cameras outside, wondering if the pounding or banging was real and I'd heard it through my dream, and to check for text messages from my mother. Of course, there was nothing, and the cameras outside showed our street and porch at night, peaceful and serene -- with a perfectly shoveled driveway and sidewalk. It took me a few minutes of panic, in real life, to realize that yes, everything had been a dream.

I tried to go back to sleep again after that, but adrenaline was coursing through my body and that wasn't really happening.

I don't know, for the record, what that dream means. I stopped trying to interpret my dreams a long time ago. I'm sure I could look it up and there would be any number of cryptic messages I could glean from a dream like that -- but, to me, it is but one of a string of nightmares I've been having recently.

I normally only have nightmares about once or twice a year. Sometimes I remember them, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I'll remember them for a few minutes after I awaken and they will fade away to the ether after that, sometimes I will remember them for years, and sometimes I will only know I had them but would not be able to provide any details or context once awake. 

Well, as of the past couple of months -- since Christmas roughly, give or take a few weeks -- I have been having 1-2 nightmares per week, instead of per year. Nothing has significantly changed in my diet, my meds are exactly the same as they've always been (and none of them are brain meds anyway), my caffeine intake hasn't really fluctuated a lot, and my stress levels are about the same as they always are. So, honestly, I don't know the cause. I don't go to sleep thinking I'm going to have a nightmare or worrying that I might -- they're just dreams and they come and go randomly. Rarely, if ever, have they ever been a concern for me. The only time I can remember having consistent nightmares was about fifteen years ago when I was trying to quit smoking, and was using the nicotine patch. I had consistent nightmares when on the patch, and apparently that's a known side effect. 

It is what it is, I suppose; I can't really do anything to control it.

Anyway.

So as the day went on, more of the snow melted and cleared, little by little. Most streets -- including ours -- are dry and completely clear. Neighborhoods and side streets are still a little iffy and have varied between some slush and sheets of solid, packed ice. How do I know this? Because I left the house today for the first time in a while. We went to see Daisy's parents for an hour or two and then made a very quick Costco run to pick up a few essentials. 

In the winter, I don't leave the house. I do not like going out in the cold and snow and ice. When it's in the 70s in winter, as it was for a few days last week, that's different. When it's not, that is a different story. Today it was in the teens, which is weather I don't like to venture out in, but I will if we have to. 

Note: the original plan for the day was for us to get up early and clean out Daisy's closet, spending the day fully reorganizing everything and making it more accessible. It's something we've wanted to do for years and has such become more of an overwhelming task with each passing month. This weekend we had nothing on the docket whatsoever and the cold and snow was keeping us indoors anyway, so on Friday we made the plan to finally tackle the closet together -- take the full day, completely disassemble it and reassemble is, sort through stuff for giveaways and to just be able to say we did it. 

However, I had to do a Walmart delivery order for this morning for bread and some other vital essentials that really couldn't wait, and the Catsitter had gotten back to us and wanted to come over sometime in the afternoon to discuss changes and timeframes for trip to NC -- as well as to meet and interact with Dolly for the first time. She had never met Dolly; she last watched our cats in October, and at that point Pete was still with us. She really liked old man Pete, and he really liked her. All of our cats really like the Catsitter. She is sweet, kind, and patient with them and they are very receptive to that -- she puts them all immediately at ease when she's there. 

So, anything we did for the day would need to be scheduled around those things. In addition to this, Daisy got up and had almost zero energy after the shoveling of the driveway, and she didn't know if she could devote herself to cleaning the closet for the full day. She also wanted to see the parents and was concerned about them as she could not reach either of them via phone. 

"If you don't want to do it today," I said, "we don't have to. It's okay. It's not going anywhere."

I am very patient with Daisy on tasks like this because I love her and because I need to be supportive. I understand how difficult it is for her and how time-consuming and stressful it is and can be for her. I have mental and physical hurdles like that too, and it can be really rough. So, if she tells me she doesn't have the capacity to deal with it at a certain time, even if we've planned to and set aside time for it, I don't push her on it -- I just shift gears and assist where I can. 

The visit with the Catsitter was fine; she got to meet Dolly and we gave her the rundown on all of the med changes and routine changes for foods and the like. We also had to inform her, sadly, that Hank's bad eye has clouded over again -- over the course of about 24-48 hours -- and he's back on the antibiotic drops and saline for the foreseeable future. 

So, there's that. That was the story of the Omaha Snowpocalypse 2026. I doubt we're done with snow; there's already some rumblings about snow/rain/ice later in the week making an appearance again, but, we shall see.

Onward.