It’s been a while since I’ve jumped into one of those “this is my life now” posts, mainly because my life has consisted of a “not the best” job and weight watchers since the new year, pretty much… Yet, in the last few weeks, the world has dropped a good ol’ “Jen Salisbury Atomic Bomb” on my life, and therefore, I have things to talk about today. (Which like, yay for me, I love processing my decisions on the internet)
St Patrick’s Day 2018.
We went to Chicago this past weekend for our yearly alcoholic bender, and it wasn’t normal. The last two years, I forgot where I was, did a beer bong out of a traffic cone, and cried, while Dylan kissed a man because he looked like Prince. This year, Dylan chased Guinness with Jameson, climbed underneath a very labeled tent wall, and didn’t find anyone who looked like Prince. We lasted in public for less than two hours, and landed in the hotel bed asleep by two. I woke up to Dylan on FaceTime with Jess, as she screamed at him to wake me up, and I then went back to sleep for another three hours. When I finally “woke up” for the day, I was sober and pretty much just annoyed I hadn’t met David Dobrik yet. We walked around, couldn’t get in to Ditka’s for steak, and ditched the hotel room for our own beds & our dogs. (Thankfully Dylan loves spending money, so after being sick to my stomach for an hour, he assured me that dumping the cost of the room down the drain was A-Okay, and we ventured back into Indy)
Yeah, that’s a thing now. I saw a video on Facebook last week about a mama pig crying. Did I talk about this on here already? Well, that video ruined my life. Dylan and I have zero meat products in the house, and we’ve cut meat out of our diets pretty much cold turkey (what an inappropriate pun). Dylan’s not looking forward to saying goodbye to steak. The toughest thing for me will be beef, because I love a good taco salad, but it’ll have to be done. Actually, if you know me at all, you’ll know that I lost 100 pounds by eating McDonald’s every day for about a year. (NOT an exaggeration) On Sunday, I bought a McDouble from McDonalds and threw it away. THREW. IT. AWAY. I couldn’t do it, thinking about the fact I was eating a mother cow, or a baby cow, or a best friend cow. Who am I?
Dylan plays hockey. I almost fell asleep at his game. Luckily my mom called and wanted to talk about the dogs and cruising to Hawaii. I will go cheer on Dylan every single week, in both hockey and softball, I really will… I just need to remember that Dylan has thirty minutes of “warm up drills” before every hockey game, and half of his team has never been on skates before. Dylan’s the best player on his team, and he got his first penalty, so that was entertaining.
F is for Friends.
Or friend. A couple of weeks ago, I got a DM asking for my number. Dylan would have been mad, but he already had her number, so it was casual. Guys, I just wanted everyone to know that I made a friend. We’re pretty much exclusively friends now, because we went golfing and also because we are taking Instagram pictures together this weekend. So, just an update that I think I now have seven friends total, but that’s counting the dogs and my mom.
The Job Hunt
Still no job. Funemployment is on the horizon.
Have you ever heard of Instacart? It’s an app that consumers can use to make their grocery list, and have someone go shop for it. It’s like Uber for groceries, in a sense. I’ve signed up to be a shopper, and I’m slightly excited to have a part time job. I think internet people call it a side hustle. Mainly, I’m looking to have some “save me” income for the next few weeks before a full time job is back in my rotation. After that, I’m hoping that it’ll be enough to split into some “fun money” and “school loan payments”. They save the average is about $200.00 per week part time, and could be more on those weeks that I have no job. I think this is going to be a great fit for me, because I spent most of my childhood saying that I was going to be a cashier when I grew up. (Granted, I thought that was because I got to keep the money in the registers)
Someone tell me who decided that because you’re married that your school loan amount is based on your combined income? Excuse me FedLoan, but I work 40 hours a week, split every single bill equally with my husband, and pay for my own school loans. Don’t you dare tell me that I need to pay more per month because I’m married. You should pay ME for dealing with Dylan all the time!
My school loans are projected to be “forgiven” in 25 years, so only 22 years of paying to go!
Daisy’s “New Trick”
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but a new dog can teach herself. Daisy’s new thing is holding my hand (see above). It’s pretty much the cutest thing that I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and my heart swells up like a balloon and real life tears gather in my eyes. She’s a perfect specimen of a dog, but I really wish she wouldn’t have thrown up five times today.
This is going to sound slightly dramatic, like everything out of my mouth- but I was going through a bit of a health scare for the last month. I got a physical, and didn’t measure up on my white blood cell counts. Of course, ya’ll know me, and Google told me I had six types of cancer and should draft my will immediately. Soon after, I got that weird flu, which also convinced me that I needed to be prepared, since my body couldn’t handle illness anymore and I was on my death bed.
In reality, it was a cause of a lot of anxiety, because things weren’t the way they’re supposed to be. I spent a month with anxiety about something I really truly could not control but feared the “retest” that was coming up. Friday, I went to the doctor for my little test, and spent the following four days panickinggggggggg. It finally came back today, and my numbers went back into a normal range, and I felt like I could breathe again. The doctor is my favorite place on the planet, because they prick me with needles and tell me that I’m normal. Anyone else love the doctor? But like, anyone else hate their anxiety?
Anxiety is a mess.
In closing, it’s supposed to snow all night & there’s a chance school will be cancelled tomorrow and so help me God if I get required to do a 6:30am, I may lose it.