I Speak With the Tongue of a Thousand White-Hot Lies!

So that was a long, godawful weekend.

On Friday, my dad went into the hospital because he was feeling short of breath and kind of odd in one arm. In the end, it turns out his heart went into a-fib, so it wasn't pumping enough blood, or not pumping it properly, or something like that--it was weird, and not good, but it wasn't a heart attack and the doctors all felt it can be controlled with medicine and diet change.

The "best" part of this was that he and Mom had the Zweeble that night, because Scott and I were at Jason's birthday dinner. However, the Zweeb was a champ about the whole thing. He usually comes through when you need him to, though seeing Pop hooked up to a whole bunch of machines made him a little uncomfortable, so he asked to go to the car to get his stuffed animal. That was when we arrived. And if you think that drive from Sarasota to Englewood was fun, I'd have to inform you otherwise.

Saturday was spent here, awaiting word. Overall the word was good, but I was working with about three hours of sleep, so after a certain point, everything seemed like hell on earth anyway. Jason came over, though, which made things much easier to deal with. I'm not sure how many crises he's been here for, now, but it's more than one.

Dad came home Saturday, and everything looks good. He feels fine, he's on the new meds, he has doctor's instructions for what to do if he has another episode, so good on that.

Sunday was a not-so-unusual rough day with the five-year-old, but when you add it on top of the rest of the weekend, it really sucked. Though we tried out some new ways to deal with him that seemed to work, overall, so that's a good thing.

Ugh.

Also in there was Jason's birthday dinner, which was fun (especially his "no, really, I think I'm going to turn around and leave" surprised face), and my contract from Beneath Ceaseless Skies, and cake, so the entire weekend didn't totally suck. This morning is a mental health morning.

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And again I see reports of LJ's eventual demise ... although I sort of think it's not going to die off, per se, so much as become an all-Russia/Singapore site at some point. But whatever, it's the internet, nothing lasts forever (well, it's all cached, but people are lazy so it's the same sort of thing). I seriously hate Facebook, though. I think, if LJ dies off, I'll go be the oldest person on Tumblr. It's pretty, and posting photos is easier. :)

But I suppose I'm here rearranging the deck chairs 'til the bitter end.

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Now, off to read and read and read until it's time to go to work. Mental health morning, away!

I have spent a lot of the past week sleeping.

Scott's been letting me sleep in, and then I keep actually falling asleep during naptime with the boyo. The sleeping in is nice, and something that doesn't strike me as odd (though I can't sleep past 9am anymore), but usually I just don't nap. I may zone out for twenty minutes, but I never fall totally asleep for an hour or whatever. Well, until this week.

I have been kind of sleep-deprived for a while, so I suppose I'm catching up?

Also, is it just me or did the creatures (so called because I don't want to spoil anything) in this week's Doctor Who look like a cross between Odo and Voldemort?

Well, Happy New Year.

Am I awake because of some raucous New Year's partying? Nope, just insominia, which has been an issue for me this week. So instead of lying in bed while my brain spins, I am puttering on the web and noticing how much I need to clean my office.

I was very apprehensive about 2010, because 2009 was, overall, one of the worst years ever. (Years with 9s, man--1989, 1999, and 2009. All hard ones.) But 2010 turned out really well--we got to do all the travel we wanted to do, and we got the Zweeble's adenoids fixed. The surgery and aftermath was really nasty, but it was so worth it; he is in much better shape right now than he was this time last year. Preschool was begun, and I think that's been good for him. I sold a story that I didn't even expect to write. We got to see Erin, which was another unexpected thing. Really, looking at it, 2010 was the year of Seriously Planned Fun and Unexpected Good Things.

I could have done with less money stress, and Scott's work could have been better; less stupid in general would have been nice. But really, I'm sure even Bill and Melinda Gates have money stress of some kind ("Dear god, which charitable organization should we donate to?!"), and Scott's work could always be better, and as Frank Zappa told us, stupidity is a basic building block of the universe, like hydrogen. Having those as my big problems from 2010 is not so bad.

I feel my usual trepidation about 2011. Look, I am not a chipper, optimistic person by nature. New years and birthdays, to me, mean looking at the crap I haven't managed to accomplish yet and facing a giant, yawning mass of Dark Unknown. What fetid horrors await me in the next twelve months? Will I survive with my sanity intact? Hell, will I make it through this year with all of my body parts intact (with me, you really never know, and that's not a joke. Well, it is, but it's a joke with a serious ring of truth to it)?

But.

It's not a year that ends with a 9. And I've survived all those years that end with 9s. And this year has taught me that not all unexpected things are bad. Even 2009 had its good unexpected moments.

Still, it would be unfair to expect 2011 to outdo 2010. It might even be unfair to expect it to match up to 2010. So, 2011, I am going to give you the same set of expectations as 2010: just don't be 2009, and we will be good. If it takes you a month or so to get into a groove, that's okay--just get into it.

Happy New Year, y'all. May your 2011 have some peace in it, some good chaos, love, friends, and something unexpected and delightful.