the id, the ego, & the single misfiring brain cell

and the few material bits of "me" i'm taking are crated and on their way to turkey

And all at the same time.

I didn't sleep well last night. We went out to see Peachy and Cheryl (colleagues from the Academy who have moved on) to have dinner and say goodbye. Then we came home and did some final packing (which at this point consisted of me saying, "These are the crumbs I'm taking with me, and that's the stuff I'll need eventually") before crashing hard. Then I woke at 2am.

Nice.

I'm in the habit of foregoing my sleeping pills when I'm already exhausted (and/or when I'm close to a deadline and will embrace any wakefulness my body grants, however sporadically), which means I didn't take one last night. I flopped around for a while, knowing I had to be up around 6 or something (couldn't remember), then finally came down to the great room and curled up in the mamasan with the cats to read my Kindle until I could doze back off.

I miss the cat cuddling already, by the way. I'm still here in the smack-dab middle of it, and I miss my fuzzy babies. This may be exacerbated because a good friend of ours, Tracy, had to take her 18-year-old baby, Stockings, to the vet on Tuesday so she could go to sleep and not wake up. Increasingly, I look around me and think of how much I love my life and those who share it with me, and how much I'm going to miss them. No matter how much attention Mich lavishes on the cats and dogs, I'll be convinced that they aren't getting the love they deserve, and I'll know all the time that I'm being irrational and unfair but I won't care.

I didn't take any household goods this time, as I will be returning here and Mich will need them in the interim, and because I'm led to believe that I'll be issued all the necessities for home living when I get to Izmir (and if I'm not...won't that be a nice surprise?). I took only:

- my road bike and gear

- my guitar, music, stand, bench

- my desktop computer

- my golf clubs

- a "handful" of books*

* Not literal handfuls, you understand, but it's hard to tell where I snagged them from the library.

- some uniforms I might need, and a handful of clothes

That's it.

Oh...and my vibrator.

I loaned this to Tracy's husband Kermit a couple of months ago (?) to help reduce the muscle tension in his arm after he had its scaffolding removed* which was after after he FELL OFF A ROOF and crunched it.

* He called it his "Erector Set."

As I am an accomplished masseuse (thanks to being the family masseuse most of my life, but also because I just have a knack for it), I was called upon to work on his forearm when it was released from the machinery and after he'd decided it was time to go back to work with it. It was like kneading strips of iron between his radius and ulna. I've not rubbed anything like that since Grandpaw passed away, to be frank. Grandpaw was a walking, talking, treetrunk.

So when Tracy and Kermit left, I suggested they take my vibrator for his arm.

Calm down, people. Seriously? I never thought 'til now that there is a strict distinction between "vibrator" and "massager." When and where I grew up, they were the same. OK? Quit sniggering.

Of course, everyone else thought this was fuuuuuuuuny. :roll: I said, "Whatever. Just make sure he uses that on his arm. It needs some work."

Tracy brought it back because he wasn't using it (although she'd gotten some use out of it), and we picked it up before we came home last night. This "vibrator," by the way, weighs 15 to 20 pounds (which was a huge selling point), and has heated "nipples." It is not, in any way, conducive to...what you might be thinking it might have been used for. This is almost an industrial strength back relaxer (or arm relaxer, as the case may be). OK? OK.

Anyhow. We piled a few things in the great room and Mich stayed to babysit the movers while I drove to Buckley for my final out appointment. This was shortly after I had another attack.

I'd taken a bath and put on most of my uniform when I decided to move all the shoes and clothing to the living room to make everything easier on the movers and on Mich. After I took the last load down, I went back up to the master bath to brush my hair and tie it back when I felt that familiar but awful hyperventilation feeling. First, I sat on the edge of the tub. I was breathing fast and shallow, and felt like I might throw up (which is highly unusual for me), then remembered what Cheryl* had recommended: sit on a floor and lean against something solid. So I slipped to the floor and, through the cold sweat and the stars, called for Mich. She came up, noted how clammy I was, and ran for the BP monitor.

* Good friend from high school. She's finishing a degree in nursing.

My blood pressure was quite high yesterday when I went in for my final acupuncture appointment (143/94), and they figured I might just be anxious over the impending move. We thought my BP might be up again. Nope. Mich ran it and it was 113/83.

But my pulse was 97, which is insanely weird for me.

After a bit, it went away, and I took another Ativan.*

* As per my doc's order's I'd taken one that morning as I had reason to believe it would be a stressful day, so the initial attack (IMO) should never have happened. Doc told me to take another as soon as I knew the first one wasn't enough.

After a few, I put on my blouse, poured a cuppajoe to go, and struck out for Denver. I had nomore weird attacks, but I very much don't recommend taking one or two Ativans and driving. Just for the record.

My outprocessing went without any hitches. I was in and out in twenty minutes, and five of that was explaining how great Kindles are and making eBay suggestions to the two NCOs who were admiring mine.

Now I'm back at the pad, and it's snowing. I think there's a movie in our future....

Less than three days, and I'm off. I'm excited and, I guess, depressed. But I think that's a sign of good mental health. It feels normal.

d