Shirley Sunday 2013: The Abominable Meatloaf Returns!

Let me just say that this is an appropriate time for me to return to the blogging world. First reason is that a LOT of people have been asking me to start blogging again. Second reason is that they all want me to blog about Hurricane Shirley. And I have a LOT more material!

A lot of things have changed in the last few months for me, like moving to a new town (almost literally if you know me and where I live) and FINALLY getting disability for the mental disorders that had nearly crippled me from normal life! Unfortunately, even moving 45 minutes away from the parental units did not deter them from invading my life at regular intervals.

Our old house was a bungalow of shall we say intimate proportions. We were usually on top of each other...and not in the good way! Too small for long (overnight) visits from mom and dad. Now we live in a generous two-story. When we moved, mom decided to take a course at the local community college which has a satellite location in our town. She just HAD to take the course at our town's location. Every Friday. So every Thursday night without fail, we had an overnight visitor. Because apparently 45 minutes is too far to drive for her class in one day. Mind you, the woman makes multiple trips every week to locations far greater in distance than my house. After a while, dad started staying the night as well, because he works only seven minutes from our house. That's right, my mother refused to drive 45 minutes ONE day a week and my father has been doing it FIVE or SIX days a week for 40(!) years. Needless to say, while the hubbs was still working in our old town (driving 45 minutes TWICE a week) I would be sharing MY house with the two people I specifically moved away from for more independence. OK, so that's the backstory...now onto the meatloaf.

It was the hubbs birthday. He turned 31 on a Wednesday, and we had a barbecue planned for Saturday. We had planned to walk to a local eatery and celebrate quietly. Then mom called and informed us we need not eat, she was making her meatloaf- a (very) loose interpretation of my cousin's recipe. Now look, I love meatloaf, even being a person who doesn't really like red meat. What she made most closely resembled wet cat food in sight and texture. The taste wasn't terrible, but I couldn't get past the texture. I mean, who puts evaporated milk in meatloaf? The answer should be no one. Trust me.

I ate exactly 3 bites and declared myself full (of whatever I could snack on before). I knew the horrific meal that was going to be presented and warned the hubbs that we should at least snack so we didn't go hungry. He expected bad, but was not prepared. I'm pretty sure he'll trust me about what mom can and can't successfully cook from now on.

I am absolutely terrified because she has already talked about the recipe she wants to try for my birthday in a couple weeks...prepare the airsick bags!

You know though, on a serious note, I am very lucky. I was blessed with two moms. One who gave birth to me and one who was there from the beginning. My mom means well and she's a really nice lady with a lot of old-fashioned behaviors. I think I'll cut her a break today and just say "Happy Mother's Day to a mom who constantly keeps me on my toes." Oh, and thanks in advance for never making your meatloaf again!

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady

The Government Ate My Paperwork, Then They Paid Me.

Ok, so I should probably start with an apology. However, I'm not going to, and here's why: excuses are easier. I've spent the last 6 months applying and fighting for my disability to go through. And just a couple hours ago I got my first payment. I can breathe now.

You all knew I was bi-polar, and since the last post I've also added OCD, GAD (general anxiety disorder), PTSD, and mild Agoraphobia. Quite the list, huh. It's actually quite funny when you get right down to it.

For example, a conversation I would normally hold in my head on any given day:

(BP): So, I should really get out of bed.
(GAD): But what if it's COLDDDD out?
(PTSD): We could get sick!
(BP): Nope, I am getting up.
                Crap! This house is a mess!
(OCD): I've been telling you that for weeks!
(BP): Well, I've been in a down swing for a while. Why don't you help me clean it up?
(OCD): It's gotten too bad, I can't face it. You mixed up everything I had in ORDER!
(GAD): It's too much, I need to lay down.
(BP): We'll do it later. How about a walk to the library?
(A): NOOOOOOOO!!!!
(OCD): Just don't forget to go the right way, no sidetrips or something may go wrong!
(GAD and PTSD) By yourself??? NOOOOOO!!!!
(BP) I guess I'll go later, after I take a nap.

Rinse and repeat. But such is my life. On the upside, at least I'm not Schizophrenic...yet...lol!

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady