Work Conversation

So my dad has my work number, and sometimes he will call that instead of my cell when he has a question for me. Usually just to make fun of the way I answer the phone. So anyways, CPT L's phone rings, and I hear him pick it up. He's talking for a couple of second and tells the caller that I have switched desks and he will transfer him. He then asks who it is. So then, he says, "It's your dad, I'll transfer him over." But for some reason, he accidentally pushes the wrong extension. So then he has to pick it up again and tell my dad he's trying again. I'm not sure what the fuck he was doing, but it took about 5 minutes for him to transfer the fucking call over.

ANYWAYS, so I finally get the call and my dad says, "Do you have a contract for special people to work in your office?" I thought I was going to die laughing. And I just say, "No, that was CPT L. We switched desks." Because obviously CPT L is still within hearing range, so I can't say what I want to say. SO my dad proceeds to lay into me about CPT L. "Wow. I thought he was retarded. I thought maybe it was a private There is no way that that guy is a Captain." To which I say, "And it's even better in person. Appearances are very telling" So then my dad says, "That just goes to show you can get promoted if you have a pulse and can string two sentences together. Actually, excuse me, that guy actually couldn't string two sentences together so that must not even be a requirement." It was so funny. He just kept going on and on about how retarded CPT L sounded on the phone for the two minutes they were on the phone together.

My Job

Now, I realize I haven't updated this in a while. And since that last time I updated it, I have joined Match.com with one of my friends from here at Fort Eustis. I have also gone on 2 blind dates with people from the site. Both of which went pretty well. HOWEVER, I don't really feel like posting all of that right now, so I will leave my romantic life for another post. Possibly tomorrow.

Right now, I would love to talk about how much I love my job. First off, here is a typical day for me:

5 am- Alarm goes off. Consider getting up and going to morning sping class. Decide I will be more pleasant and happy at work if I sleep in. Know this is a dirty lie, but don't care.
7 am- Alarm goes off again. Realize that Sheldon is sleeping on top of my airway, so that is why I have been having trouble breathing for the past 2 hours. Get up, shower, eat.
8 am- Go to physical therapy for my torn hampstring. Ponder how much I hate the dumb exercises they give me. Wonder why my hampstring has been bothering me since late November. I have never had an injury last this long.
9 am- Get to work. Check email. Try to draw out responding to emails and getting silly stuff done until lunch time.
1130 am-1 pm- Go home and visit Sheldon for lunch. Have a ham, spinach and salsa sandwhich. Everyday. No variety.
105 pm- Get back to work. Probably go sit in some dumb meetings that have no relevance to anything I say.
3 pm- Sit in my office and stare menicingly at the back of the CPT's head that now works in my officer. Wonder why my boss thinks he is so great when he is a fat, anti-social creeper who can't say a sentence without a millions "ums." He also clearly has no life, as he is always here at like 7 am and stays until well after I leave. I bet his wife hates him. Then again, if I were here I wouldn't want him home either.
315 pm- put my kindle on my desk and read it in between cleaning up some of the spreadsheets that I manage. There is only so much I can do with the few tasks I have been given by my boss.
4 pm- Stare at the clock. Wonder how many more days until the weekend.
455 pm- SUPRISE! Some emergency or another comes up. Most likley from the DCO (deputy commanding officer), and I have to do something that makes me stay until well past leaving time.
630 pm- Finally leave the office. Ponder why I do nothing all day and still don't leave work until after everyone else. Very unfair.
645 pm- Consider going to the gym. Realize I have missed my favorite kettle bell/spinning/body pump class and decide I don't feel like trying to make up my own work out. Promise self I will go at 5 am the next morning (JOKE)
7 15 pm- EAT lots of food to make myself feel better about how aweful work is. Then feel guilty because I haven't worked out at all.
8 pm- Watch some mindless TV show. Hopefully The Voice.
930 pm- Go to bed early, so I can wake up and go to the gym in the morning
1130 pm- Realize I have been lying in bed for 2 hours not sleeping and am supposed to get up in 5.5 hours. FUCK


Now boys and girls, doesn't that sound fun? I have come to the realization that I HATE my job. There is nothing fun/challenging/meaningful about it. And worse than all of that, there isn't anything for me to do half the time. My boss has us delegate everything down and yells at me if I try to do things myself. All I do all week is stare at the clock/calendar and pray for Friday night to get here. I don't think I've ever been so unhappy in my life. There is just nothing worth doing around here.

I miss you

So this is going to sound super lame, but I miss you. The limited people that have access to this were my best friends at school. This past week I've been missing every single one of you.

I'm probably just going through the winter blues or whatever, but I've been thinking lately. I never had a problem making friends before. There were always people I disliked, people I tolterated, and people I liked. Super simple. I was never short of people I liked. Ever. But now, I feel like everyone I know down here in VA is just alright. There's no one I really consider a good friend. They are all aquaintences, mostly from work, who I force myself to socialize with so I don't die of boredom.

Now, I think part of this comes from the fact that all my life I have been surrounded by people my own age in similar environments. It's almost as if we grow up in vaccums. I went from grade school to college to summer camps to vacations to army schools to whatever. No matter where I was I was always in an enviroment where people were forced to bond with each other.

It is probably different for many of you, being back at home where you still have some old friends, or even in a workplace that fosters more of a "young professional" attitude. But for me, I feel like I am more alone than I have ever been. Practically everyone I work with is married and substantially older. I have made it an effort on my part to seek out other LTs to hang out with. And while I have slowly compiled a group of around 7 "friends." I would never call a single one of them to talk or anything. Basically I am using them so I have someone to go out with, although there isn't really anywhere to go.

It's just kind of depressing.

Tuesdays are boring

Today is Tuesday. I'm bored. I wish it was Friday.

I was told that I haven't updated my blog in a while. This is true. Nothing exciting has happened. 2 weekends ago I slept all weekend. This past weekend I didn't do much either. Although I did have 2 friends over on Sunday to watch the Super Bowl. It was fun.

So yeah. That's pretty much it. I'm exhausted today because I was given muscle relaxants to take at night because my hampstring is still bothering me (has been since November). Well turns out they don't knock me out like everyone else. They make me hyper. So I spent half the night watching TV and coloring last night. I went to sleep late, but I got up later than usual (got 7 hours of sleep). However, I was exhausted when I woke up. It felt like I weighed 200 lbs. And my hammy didn't feel any better. It just felt like I was really heavy. And I've been ridiculously tired all day. I don't think I will take those again. I guess they make me hyper initially, and then make me really tired and blah feeling once they wear off. NO FUN.

My mom said that when I was a kid, she gave me Benadryl because I was sick, and she wanted me to go to sleep. Turns out, shortly after she gave it to me I rolled over and started crawling for the first time. Apparently things that are supposed to make people tired make me hyper. Go figure. We already knew there was something wrong with me...

MRI fun

So for those of you that don't know, my heart is broken. Like litterally. I went to the doctor in November because I pulled my hampstring, and he was like you have a heart murmur. And I was like, no you are supposed to be looking at my hampstring. Fail.

So he made me go to the cardiologist when is at some huge Naval hospital in Portsmouth. When I say huge, I'm talking this thing looks like a Mall of America or something. There are like 5 separate buildings with connectors, parking garages, food, shops. WTF kind of hospital is this. So I had to go get an ultrasound of my heart (I told the tech to check out my tummy too for my little one, but he didn't find that funny). This was all back in December, and the cardiologist said I had a pulmonic stenosis heart murmur and possibly a VSD (a tear between valves). He thinks that there is a grove right outside the valve that goes from my heart to my lungs that restricts blood flow there. He asked me if I got out of breath running. I countered with doesn't everyone? He said more than normal. And I said if my heart has been like this all my life, then that is normal to me. Score one for Meagan.

Anyways he needed me to get a cardiac MRI for confirmation of this. He asked if I That's fine. I love MRIs. I've had them for my shoulder, and basically it is scheduled nap time. You go in a tube for like an hour and sleep while there's soothing clicking all around.

So happy Meagan (who doesn't care about the heart thing because if I did a triathalon this summer, surely there can't be that much wrong with my heart) goes to get this cardiac MRI yesterday. I arrive (after getting lost in the fucking hospital maze and almost being late) and change into the stylish hospital gown. Then they take me into this room and bring out their GIGANTIC needles. I was like, excuse me, what the hell are those. They say those have the "contrast dye for my heart." Now, I start sweating. I've had a contrast MRI in my shoulder, but they just inserted it with a nice small needle. These were huge. Finally after panicing for for a few miniutes, they explain that they are going to insert an IV into me and the huge needles will go into the IV bag. Fine. I can deal with one small needle.

So they insert the IV (which freaking hurts), and tell me I can move my arms around to get ready to go in the tube. I'm like, nah, I'm good. I don't want to move with a needle in my arm. It takes them 10 miniutes to convince me that the IV is actually just a plastic piece in your arm. The needle was just in a second to puncture the skin, and then they take it out. Fine. I move my arm minutely, but it hurts with nasty plastic in it.

So then they are like, have you gone to the bathroom? I'm like yeah I'm good. They say you better be because its going to be a few hours. HAHAHAHA. Good one I say, the longest MRI I have heard of is an hour. They aren't laughing. They say they need so many images that it takes a "couple hours." Displeased, I asked them to define a couple and they say usually 2-4 but maybe longer. WTF, 2-4 hours trapped in the tube. Fine, 2-4 hour nap I say. This is good. Ooops, we forgot to tell you this is an interactive MRI. For cardiac MRIs, they can only take the images when there is no air in your chest and you aren't breathing. So throughout the whole test, you have to constantly listen to the cues to breath in, out, then hold your breath. NO SLEEPING.

So disgruntled Meagan is less than pleased to get on the MRI table, but whatever. THEN they strap down my arms because they will be pumping things through my IV and can't risk me messing it up. Also, they put all the EKG heart monitors over my chest and a huge lead plate. Basically, I can't move at all, and they haven't even put me in the tube yet. Suffice to say, I am slightly apprehensive of this now.

So finally, they put me in the tube and start. I can see how someone who was even slightly claustraphopic would freak out. Especially being strapped down, you are litterally trapped in a tube that you are all the way inside. I decide that if I had to, I could wiggle out the top or bottom, so I don't panic. However, if I were a fat person, I would certainly be nervous. I wonder to myself if they have a fat person MRI tube because I know people that couldn't fit in there.

The test proceeds for god knows how long. No clock in the room, so I have no idea. They keep having me hold my breath, so every time I start to doze off, I'm awaken by the annoying voice in the tube saying breath in, breath out, hold your breath. Grr. The worst part was when they pumped the dye in, because they push it in really fast and you can feel it going up your arm inside. It feels cold and gross. Plus, the IV leaked a little, and I was like uhhhh, guys? It's leaking. But of course, no one could hear me. I felt like a moron talking to myself. There is a mic inside, but they can only hear you inbetween tests.

So after 3 or so hours, they come in and take me out of the tube (damn my body was cramped from not moving for 3 hours). They said they had 1 more test to run, but its just a "phantom." Basically they have me stand next to the machine which they run it in the tube empty to I guess use it as a base of comparison for when I was in it. As I'm standing next to the machine, I feel woozy (that's the only word I can think to describe it). I felt like I did before I passed out at sorority initiation. But of course, no one can hear me while the test is going on. So I try to keep from falling over or throwing up. Finally someone walks in, and I'm like I don't feel well. Which they ignore, so I say it louder and they bring a chair over for me. I promptly fall into it and get tunnel vision. Then everythign goes black, but I can still hear and sense everything. I kept trying to open my eyes, but they already were open. I ask if anyone turned out the lights, but then my vision comes back in a tunnel and then fully.

I asked the tech WTF just happen, as he seemed rather unconcered that I blacked out for a couple seconds. In fact, he was just walking around setting up the machine. He said that oftentimes, when you are in the magnetic machine for an extended period of time, you will get naseous or pass out. It's really strong. UHHHH THANKS FOR THE WARNING.

Then once I can stand, he's all like you can go change and leave. You should maybe pick up a red bull on the way out. You look tired. Uhh, no making sure that this machine didn't like permanately damage me? Or seeing if I'm okay to drive? Guess not. Interesting.

I also forgot to mention that this Tech was a large black man who looked like he could play linebacker in the NFL and the guy who ran my MRI looked like the mad professor from Back to the Future. Fun times.

So I drive home and nap. Because that machine made me feel icky. All better now, but no longer will I think all MRIs are "fun mandatory naptime."

Tacos

I know, I know, I'm posting 3 times in as many days. I literally have over doubled the number of posts in this blog. But its Friday, and I hate being productive on Friday. I need to focus on getting into weekend mentality. I work too hard (not).

Anyways, yesterday I decided I wanted to make tacos. And make them with chicken like Emilia taught me. So I got home from the gym at 8, and realized that I had frozen the fresh chicken I bought because mommy said it would go bad after a week. Well, methinks, I will just cook it a little longer. It'll be fine. So I try to get it out of the packaging, but it is frozen to the Styrofoam. I run it under water for like 10 min and eventually it becomes unstuck (that water was fucking hot). Then I just put the hunk of slimy meat in my George Foreman and turn the heat all the way up. Says cooking time for chicken is 9-13 minutes. I'll give the frozen chicken 30 min.

So I shower. Check back 30 min later. Chicken is still pink. Hmmm. Oh the grill wasn't turned on. Come back 25 min later. Barely cooked at all. So I look up how to cook frozen chicken online, and it says you have to cook it double the time. So I give it another 20 min. By this time it's almost 930, and I give up and make soup. But since the chicken is already cooking, I have to finish it. Finally, around 945 the chicken looks done. So I cut it up and simmered it with the taco seasoning. Then I put it in Tupperware containers and saved it for tonight. I hope it is edible and not salmonella-ized.

I am an awful cook. Good thing I cook mostly frozen meals (many of which I manage to burn because I get distracted by shiny things)

Tiara

So upon the recommendation of my bestest friend, I watched the latest episode of big bang theory last night. She told me there was something in the episode that reminded me of her.

In the beginning of this episode, Howard's girlfriend (Bernadette) and him perform a magic show for kids. During this time, the kids are rather bratty and Bernadette yells at them. On the way home, Bernadette tells Howard that she never wants to have kids, which he decides is a deal breaker. She later decides that she will have kids if Howard will stay home with them while she gets to live a glamorous life and have friends (after all she makes more money than him). While this is all very comical, and maybe would have been me 5 years ago, I wondered why this made Emilia think of me. I don't LOVE kids 24/7, but I get along with them most of the time (after all I get to play dress up, and go to chuckie cheeses, etc).

As I was pondering why this particular episode would remind Emilia of me, one of the subplots of the episode comes to a conclusion. Sheldon has pissed off his girlfriend by not paying attention to his good news, so he wanted to buy jewelry to make up for it. He ended up buying her a tiara. When she got the jewelry bag, she disdainfully said that he couldn't buy her forgiveness, but then she opening it and.....OMG TIARRRA. PUT IT ON ME NOWWWW.

And then I knew why the episode reminded Emilia of me.