Panic Attack

I was chatting with an acquaintance tonight and she mentioned that she was impressed that I could get up in front of 600 people to talk without panicking. She said that she has to take a Xanax and get a priesthood blessing just to give a talk in church. She is not the only person I have heard say something like that. I feel bad for those people, but I do not understand what it feels like to be them in that situation. I get nervous, and I worry about things, and I have a brain that jumps all over the place as it tries to keep up with my mouth, but I am not really prone to all out panic. 

The other night I woke up with what I imagine a panic attack might feel like. I was gasping, and getting very upset that I could not seem to get a deep breath, or get control of the situation. When I quit freaking out, my chest hurt and the bed was destroyed. I remembered that I fell asleep thinking about someone I used to know and a possible post I have been wanting to write. I looked at the clock and saw that only about 30 minutes had passed since I went to bed so it hadn't been long enough to be in a deep sleep. If anything, I must have arrived at the edge of the place where reality and dreaming sort of blurred together.

Was it a panic attack? Having never had one, I can't really say. And it's not like I am going to ask anyone. Then I would be comparing myself to someone who had a legitimate, medically-recognized condition shared by millions of people world wide. I am just stupid. And while I definitely know stupid when I see it, it's not the same as diagnosable. So why is it that the idea of speaking to a crowd of 600 people makes me only slightly nervous, but the thought of never seeing or talking to Him again is enough to generate the kind of fit that would wake me from a dead sleep with the whole center of my being feeling like I had been run over?

Letter to Day Care

Dear Day Care -

I pay you a lot of money to take care of my children. In fact, I pay you more than I pay my mortgage company. That's OK, because they like you, and they seem to be learning everything the average three year-old should know. Every once in a while they learn something I don't think they should know. That's probably to be expected, since they spend more time with you in a day than they do with me.

When you call and tell me my child is misbehaving, I appreciate that you seem to want to work together to discipline him in a way that is both helpful and in keeping with what our family feels is appropriate. I do not appreciate it when the conversation ends up like this:

You: Can you talk to him about this at home tonight so it won't happen again?
Me: Absolutely
You: If he was my kid, he wouldn't be able to sit down for a few days, but that's up to you

Yes, it is up to me, and I don't like what you are suggesting. If we are going to give each other advice, then the next time you call me, expect the conversation to go more like this:

You: He sat there and pulled up a whole section of the carpet
Me: Wasn't someone watching him?
You: We asked him to stop, but he just got a hold of it and had it all pulled up before we could stop him
Me: If he pulled up a section of carpet that easy with someone watching him, then maybe you should have sprung for better carpet

It's probably a good idea if we just stick with our current business arrangement, and refrain from giving each other unwanted advice.

Signed,
The customer who pays the salaries of two people

Four F's and the Broom Principle

I am not the one who left the broom on the roof. I could get the broom off the roof if I had a...broom. I could buy a new broom, but then I wouldn't need the old one. Actually, I could just use the ladder that was also borrowed and not returned, but it's the principle of the matter. I am not the one who left the broom on the roof.

There is a reason I keep moving your email over next to those from Viagra and the Nigerian ambassador. I do not want to buy a used forklift.

F***ing hormones and F***ing headaches. Fall is nice though.