Tag Archives: musings

Health musings

So, the other day I mentioned that my TSH levels are way down and my free T4 levels are slightly lowered. The doctors have lowered my prescription of Armour Thyroid back to the previous level, and hopefully that helps. But I got to wondering why my thyroid took such a dramatic dip so suddenly. I mean, it could have been the medication, but it could be a lot of things too. Medication doesn’t work in a bubble. I have to look at this thing holistically…

Definition of holistically: in a way that treats the whole person, taking into account mental and social factors, rather than just the symptoms of a disease.

In other words, totally not the woo “science” that sells snake oil and vitamins as a cure all for everything from bruises to cancer. If you follow such people, I’m sorry for you, but I don’t believe in that clap-trap.

Image result for holistic
Google image search

Anyway, I never depend on medications alone to treat my problems, though they do play a big part in the treatment of things that *need* medications. Things like thyroid issues and bipolar — in my humble opinion — need medication and no one will convince me otherwise. I’ve tried other approaches to treating my bipolar without medicine. They didn’t work. The meds work. I’ll stick to using them. The thyroid meds help — I’ll keep using them. But — and this is a big but — I will also treat my whole self. I don’t work because while my bipolar meds do keep me sane, working with other people in certain situations can and will cause me to have breakthrough episodes of mania, which leads to depression and a vicious vicious cycle of… well bipolar rapid cycling. It’s not pretty. I don’t like going through it. So I avoid situations where it can happen. I also don’t work because I cannot take the medications for my fibromyalgia and function as a normal human being. So there’s that. But I’m going off on a tangent. Sorry about that.

So, back to what I was talking about… I got to thinking about what I’ve been doing in my life these past months and realized that there were probably a few things going on with me that exasperated the issue with my thyroid. Now, I take my thyroid meds at night because they do make me sleepy no matter what, and I’m supposed to take them on an empty stomach. Normally, I have a strict rule not to eat after about 8 pm in the evening for two reasons. One, it helps me digest everything I’ve eaten during the day and two because I take my meds about 10 pm and (as I just mentioned) I’m supposed to take them on an empty stomach. For some reason over the last few weeks, I’ve just… forgotten that rule. I don’t even know why. I’ve been eating willy-nilly, even as late as 9 pm. That might have had something to do with the change in my thyroid levels. Maybe. I dunno. I’m only guessing here. You know?

I also did some research online and found something called iodine deficiency. From that website: Iodine is a trace mineral and an essential component of the thyroid hormones, triiodothyronine (T3) and thyroxine (T4). According to the stuff I found, iodine deficiency is actually pretty common, but happily enough, is easily turned around just by eating the right foods. Especially here in the USA because we have iodized salt. I think that might be part of the culprit because I have not been cooking for myself these past few months — because, tired! You know how it works, dear reader. I got tired, so I didn’t cook, then I didn’t eat the right foods, so I got even more tired, so I continued not cooking, and the cycle continued. See, I used to eat a lot of eggs and leafy greens, which are a good source of iodine, but lately I just haven’t been. Now, do I know if I have iodine deficiency? No, not at all. But it won’t hurt to start cooking for myself again, and eating an egg (or salad) a day with a little salt will hardly kill me.

Also, carbs. Now I’m not a low-carb fanatic, but damn me, dear reader, if I haven’t been eating a ton of what we used to call “empty” carbohydrates — as opposed to what we used to call complex carbohydrates. My caloric intake didn’t go any higher than before — that I can tell, I stopped counting really — but I guaran-damn-tee you that my carb intake was through the roof. I was eating all kinds of crackers, cookies, chips, jams and jellies, breads… blah blah blah… Honestly, it was carb city over in my house. That and Diet Coke. For years and years I went without one Diet Coke then suddenly I was drinking the stuff like there was no tomorrow. I don’t know what came over me. I craved carbs and Diet Coke like they were going out of style. I know for a fact that the carb craving at least is a side effect of the Seroquel, which I take for my bipolar. I know this because it’s happened before, like way back when I first started taking it. But I can’t tell y’all why it hit me again so suddenly and so hard. Maybe they changed an inactive ingredient or something. I dunno. But I’ve controlled that side effect before, and have even lost weight — a lot of weight while taking Seroquel. I can control it again. Interesting note here that I didn’t notice before (see image), Seroquel also messes with the thyroid. Huh. I’ll have to bring this up next time I go to the doctor’s. Let me tell you something, dear reader, I will not stop taking the Seroquel despite the side effects. I’d rather be fat and sane than skinny and bonkers. I’ll tell y’all that right here and right now.

Seroquel side effects
Side effects of Seroquel. From this site This explains so much

Anyway, I’m back to monitoring my food intake, which totally helps keep me in check when it comes to what I’m putting in my mouth. That’s another thing that I’d let slide these past few months. I was just too tired to bother. Having a phone app for it helps — myfitnesspal if anyone’s interested. There’s a widget in my sidebar that shows how much weight I haven’t lost. I totally plateaued at 256 pounds. Sigh. But if you read the little image above, I probably have Seroquel to blame for that too. Ha! I have to eat less than most people just to maintain the weight I’m at. Grumble grumble grumble. Anyway, I’ve ordered a couple of books to read up on the whole thyroid matter. I just now as I was typing this got a call from my doctor’s office to follow up in a couple of weeks to talk about all of this — meds, lifestyle, thyroid, the whole shebang.

Image result for thyroid spark plug
Gotta fix the thyroid… Google image search

I hope that I’m not boring y’all with all of this. I read somewhere that the thyroid is the spark plug for the body. If it’s not working correctly, nothing else works quite right. That’s why I don’t want to mess around with the woo and snake oil. Same with my bipolar. Everything else that’s going amiss in my body is… important but not as important. Like, I can kind of deal with the fibromyalgia, the IBS, the migraines, and all that rot, but the bipolar and thyroid? They’ve gotta be taken care of or everything else just goes to shit.

Quick Updates

We took Poptart to the vet today to get his stitches out and he has a clean bill of health. We need to keep his wound covered for a bit longer because the other dogs keep trying to lick it, but he doesn’t need to wear the inflatable donut around his neck anymore, And, more importantly, he doesn’t need to be confined to his kennel anymore. Though we’ll probably keep him there at night for a while because I feel uneasy having him sleep in the bed because I move around a lot.

Poptart and Cocoa sleeping
No more worries
Look Fibro Fatigue, if you're going to hang around all day, bring cookies

I, dear reader, am exhausted. Doug and I have been slowly but surely purging things out of the house — we’ve gone through the cat’s room, the kitchen, the dog’s room, and part of what used to be my office, but it is slow going. I look around me and I see so much more that has to be purged and we’re slowly running out of time to get stuff out of the door. We haven’t even looked at the shed yet. But y’all, I’m tired. Like exhausted. Some days it’s enough that I get out of bed and into the living room. I try to get dressed every day, but sometimes I just don’t. That was the one thing I’ve always tried to do — get dressed. I didn’t even have coffee today. I just couldn’t work up the energy to run the coffee machine. I’ve been falling asleep all day. I mean, I took Poptart to the vet and brought him back, but it was a colossal effort. Y’all don’t even know. I went to bed early last night too, but as I said, I’ve been falling asleep all day. I just don’t sleep during the day. I made an appointment with my doctor to have my thyroid checked again because this tired business just cannot continue. We’ll see what goes on from there.

job hunting in typewriter

In other news, the job that Doug was supposed to have until January is letting him go at the end of June. I dunno if I’ve told y’all this, but there it is. He’s going to try and get another contracting position, but man is that getting old fast. We found out not too long ago that they were going to let his whole team go last month (like three weeks after they hired him) but his manager convinced the higher ups that his team was more important than they (the higher ups) think, and should be kept around for a little while longer. Even with the extra time, the team won’t be able to finish what needs to be done, but what can you do? Anyway, this means we’ll be out of health insurance again in a little over a month. *Sigh* This is getting tedious. I just need to remember to get my meds filled before we lose our insurance.

Bellevue College catalog cover

In other other news, I got this in the mail today and found it amusing, so I thought I would share. College courses sure are different from when I went to community college. ๐Ÿ™‚ I have no idea what Cannabis 101 is about, but hey, whatever gets them in the door, right? I mean is it the study of cannabis? The history? How to open a cannabis store? I dunno. I suppose I could look at the course description, but what’s the fun of that? ๐Ÿ™‚ Hmmmm, it’s not on their website. Let me find that catalog again… Okay, so it’s a “basic, general information” course about how weed works, the difference between CBD and THC, and the medicinal uses of weed. It’s in the catalog, but not on the website… Anyway, I found the cover amusing because, wow I never thought I’d see the day one could take a course in weed. And hey, I’m glad that day is here.

An interesting topic

I think that this is a video worth watching and sharing… Of course the media got it wrong. They often do. And it’s caused a lot of hate and discontent, and worse… more mass shootings. I agree that we should keep the names of people who commit violent acts out of the news — especially mass murderers.

Random Ramblings

On Wednesday, a local tree service came out and cut up/down the two trees that had blown down in my front yard this past January. My yard is wide open now, and it looks completely different than it did just two days ago. Like, I can see the highway in all its glory without even trying. We planted some trees along the fence line when we first moved here, but we’re totally not gonna be here long enough to see them grow to maturation, so whatever. I now have a bunch of wood and wood chips in my yard though — to be used elsewhere on the property soon enough. I’ll take pictures of how the yard looks whenever I have some energy to wander out there. I was gonna do it yesterday, but I got distracted.

Blown down trees
These guys… they’re gone. Picture pending.

What distracted me was also caused by the trees not being there anymore. See, my house faces South – Southwest more towards the West, which means that my front windows get the full brunt of the sunset. “That’s great!” You might think. “You get to see the sunset every day.” And sunsets are really pretty, especially over the mountains. But no, it’s not great. Because there’s a certain point of the day where the light from the sunset, should it hit my eyes, really triggers my migraines. I mean all I have to do is glance in the wrong direction at the wrong time of day and BAM! I’m on the ground with instant blinding pain in my head. The trees did an excellent job of diffusing that light, even when they were cut in half. So Wednesday I got a full blast of setting sun in my house and I was all, “Yeah, that’s not good at all.”

So yesterday I decided to move my chair/desk setup to face away from the window.

Four hours, dear reader! It took me over four hours just to move five pieces of furniture (and vacuum under them, because you can’t move furniture without vacuuming under them. Well, maybe you can, but I can’t). I got most of it moved out of the way in the first hour and a half and it looked like this:

Messy living room
Messy cleanup

And that’s where I lost steam. But I couldn’t leave my living room looking like something exploded in it. So it was three more hours of move/clean then recover…. move/clean then recover until I got everything mostly where I wanted it. I was too tired to take a picture. ๐Ÿ™‚ I’m still a little tired from it all, but you know what, dear reader? I need to get my stamina up a little if I’m gonna run a store, so bit by bit, I’m gonna do things like I did yesterday — push past the drain… just a little and hopefully regain some of the energy I’ve lost over these past three years that I’ve been sitting in the house. I’m not trying to hurt myself here, but I think I can ease my way up to a partially functioning human being again. ^_^

I’ve also picked up a new-to-me video game. Someone suggested that I might like playing The Sims 3, and I gave it a shot because it’s not that expensive. And the first day I played, I was on the computer for… ten hours! O_o Yikes! Like that’s never happened before. hehehehe. It’s fun. I probably won’t play it as much as I played Skyrim, but yeah… I like it. It’s mindless fun that lets me do something while I contemplate the intricacies of opening a store. Because that’s totally still happening. ๐Ÿ™‚

Title goes here

Every once in a while, I just get too tired to write, but I know that I have people here who follow my blog and y’all expect me to post on my blog, so I’m faced with the dilemma of writing something. So, do I post about being too tired to write and (to paraphrase Shakespeare) how can I be too tired to write if I’m writing about being too tired to write?

So I obviously have *some* energy, dear reader, but not a lot. Yesterday, I cleaned out the spare bedroom — the one we call the “cat’s room” because it is where the cat has his litter box and where we feed him. It was a right mess to tell y’all the truth, and it took me about an hour to clean it out. But I did it, and after I did it, I was wiped out for quite a while afterwards. Today, the nice lady who walks the dogs and trims their nails came over and trimmed the dogs’ nails. I don’t know if any of y’all have dogs and/or trim their nails, but for me, it’s quite the adventure. My cat? He’s the easy one. Five seconds and he’s done. My dogs are trained enough that they come to me so we don’t have to chase them down, but they do not like getting their nails trimmed. Not at all. So we do have to hold them down. Well, I have to hold them down while she trims their nails. And Poptart is a biter, so we have to put a muzzle on him and wrap him in a blanket. He’s getting a lot better than he was when we first got him. But he still doesn’t like getting his nails trimmed. At least they enjoy the walk afterwards. Right? ^_^

Chillin’ like a villian

Still, holding down three dogs (and kind of holding down the cat — though not really) in a row is quite exhausting. Even though they’re not big dogs — Brandy is the biggest a 40 pounds — and they don’t really struggle. Okay, sometimes they do, because they honestly don’t want to have their nails clipped, and they occasionally just say: “Nope, don’t want to be here.” and try to get up and walk away, which is why I have to hold them down. But they’re trained enough to lie still for the most part. So it’s still an effort. It got me to thinking… I often wonder — because they’re all rescue dogs — what actually happened to them in their previous lives, before they came to live with us? Of course unless I get a time machine, I’ll never know. I can only surmise judging by their action and reactions. And when I watch how they act and react to everyday occurrences, I sometimes wish I could go back to their previous owners and say, “What the hell did you do to this dog?” The only one that seems even remotely normal is Cocoa… though even he has some strange quirks. For example, if my phone, or anything else mechanical, dings, rings, or buzzes, he will suddenly look troubled — even sad — and go hide in his box. We have a big, cardboard box that he likes to spend a lot of time in. He’s a cave dweller, what can I say? Most of the time he’ll be happily chilling out here in the living room and then something will “Ding!” and he slinks away into his box. It’s so weird. He does the same if anyone raises their voice around him too, but I guess that’s understandable. He just might not like loud voices.

Calm picture of Poptart not being angry.

I think I mentioned that Poptart was a hot mess when we first got him. He was a snappy, snarly bundle of fury, and he’s calmed down a lot in the three years we’ve had him. But his one thing (other than not liking his nails clipped) is that he absolutely cannot stand anything near him if he’s under something like a blanket — which gets to be hysterical sometimes because he and Cocoa often share the same space and Cocoa will just be chilling out then Poptart will go under the blanket next to Cocoa and immediately start growling at Cocoa for invading his space. Though lately Cocoa has started growling at Poptart whenever Poptart starts to go under the blanket so I guess he’s getting tired of those shenanigans. But I have to wonder what made Poptart so sensitive in that way. I mean, I get the feeling that he was at the very least put under a blanket and teased incessantly and possibly worse until he got to the point where he is now — not trusting anything outside of the blanket, but unable to overcome his instinct to nest under the blanket. You know? It makes me so angry. I mean, Poptart weighs all of eight pounds and he’s bordering on overweight. How can anyone mistreat something so small? It’s inconceivable to me. He’s stopped biting people indiscriminately though. So there’s that. ๐Ÿ™‚

Old Pic of Brandy

I was looking through old pictures the other day (which is kind of what started this train of thought) and I found pictures of Brandy when we first got her. Dear reader, she always looked so sad and afraid. Every picture I have of her back then she looks… unsure and just… sad I guess. Maybe I’m anthropomorphizing feelings onto her, but she was also a hot mess when we first adopted her. I honestly want to smack someone. I don’t think that the people who had her before abused her outright. I think they neglected her. Put her in the back yard and left her there. I remember when we first got her she didn’t know how to walk on a leash (neither did Poptart btw) or how to sit or anything. She’s a smart dog though, she’s learned a lot. My only regret with Brandy is that the Humane Society we got her from flat out lied on her adoption papers. They said, “She wants nothing more than to sit at your feet and be loved.” Because we were looking for a dog that didn’t need a lot of exercise. Well guess what? She’s a cattle dog mix and guess what she needs? A lot of exercise. That’s why I have a nice lady to come and walk her once a week. And that’s why we have a big yard. It’s the best we can do for her.

all three dogs

But the past is the past, and I love my furbabies… all four of them. They may have been a hot mess when we first got them (except for Cocoa, who’s been okay for the most part), but they’re doing okay now. It’s one of the reasons why I usually get rescue animals. Because everyone needs a second (or third or even fourth) chance. I mean the only thing we know about Poptart is that he came here from California, and he came to California from Hawaii. We live in Washington, dear reader. That’s a long way for such a small dog. The only thing we know about Cocoa is that he was a stray, which is not surprising since he does have a tendency to want to wander. He’s wandered out of our yard at least half a dozen times and he is headstrong in wanting to go that –> way. He might have had a good family who missed him but he wandered too far and they just simply never found him. Well, we’ve had him for six years and we’ve done our damnedest to never let him out of our sight, but he had tried to see what’s over the horizon, the little stinker. ^_^ I don’t dwell too much on my pets’ past, because I have them now, but sometimes… sometimes dear reader, I do wonder, and sometimes I just get a little angry that there are people out there in the world who neglect and mistreat animals to the point that they mistrust others. Then I get over it, because now I have my little family, and we’re doing okay.

I guess I had some energy to write after all. ^_^

Just don’t expect me to proofread, okay? ๐Ÿ˜›

Delving in the Deep Darks

Normally I don’t go deep on this blog, but I had something of an epiphany last night and I kind of want to explore it. First things first. See these bags?

That, dear reader, is three years of bills, statements, miscellaneous correspondence, and whatnot that Doug and I purged from our file cabinet this past weekend. Three years! There were bills in there from 2015… I’ve never been this far behind on my paperwork. Ever. It kind of brought home how much I’ve been hiding from the world these past three years. Not just by not going out into the world, but by not doing the everyday things I ordinarily do — like bills. I haven’t gotten to the point where my house is a mess, but I’ve obviously let a few things slide… a lot.

So, in April of 2016, my neighbor got drunk and came over for a visit. At that time, we were friendly — on talking terms and… neighborly. She had told me that her mom was dying and so when I ran into her that day she told me she wasn’t doing well and that her mom had died. She asked me to drive her to the store (she’d been about to walk there) and of course I did. When we got there, we sat in my car and she talked. I held her hand and patted her shoulder and did what anyone else would do for someone grieving. I mean, that’s what someone does, right? People looked at us, but I didn’t care, I was all, Let them look, her mom died and she needs the comfort. Because, dear reader, I often don’t care what people think of me. *sigh* Mostly.

Anyway, turns out she wanted to get some booze at the store, and she did. I drove her home and said if she needed anything she could come cry on my shoulder. She took that literally and showed up a little while later — glass in hand and plastered. Thus began my ordeal. Five hours. Five hours she parked herself in home and just… I dunno, was drunk. And being drunk, she forcibly tried to kiss me at least twice, and she followed me into the bathroom when I used it as an excuse to get away from her. She spent most of this time maligning everyone and everything in her life and generally played the “woe is me” card for hours. Honestly, I just wanted her to go home. You can read a contemporary account here if you want to. I did my best to diffuse the situation, because this wasn’t the first time I’ve been accosted by a drunk person — not by a long shot. Nor was she the biggest or baddest drunk I’ve had to deflect. Nor was she the first drunk and/or obnoxious person I’ve had to deal with in my own home. I mean, my psycho ex tried to kill me in my own home. Of course, I ran away the next day, so there’s that, but whatever. She’s not even the first woman who’s put the moves on me. What can I say? I’ve led an interesting life.

So why, dear reader, did this encounter affect me so much more than all of the others? (Psycho ex notwithstanding.) Honestly, I don’t know. But it did. I think, though that it is because whenever this kind of thing happened before I had some modicum of control of the situation, however small, some way to diffuse whatever was happening and make it… stop happening. Or, some way to make it happen… less somehow. Without getting into particulars because even I don’t want to delve that far into my deep darks. Even with my psycho ex, I was able to make him go to sleep so I could pack a bag and bug out the next day. In this situation with my neighbor, for the first time in my life, I felt pretty powerless and out of control. And it just hit me when it happened how helpless I was. Like, I’ve never been able to run, dear reader. I’m not a running person — literally, I can’t get up past a jog in the best of situations. Nowadays I’m lucky if I make it to a fast shamble. And that… that’s what frightens me. That’s what keeps me inside and away from the world. Because if something else happens and I lose control, my body is in such terrible condition that I have no way of removing myself from the situation. My lungs are shot, my back is messed up, and my knees are getting worse every day. This thing that happened with my neighbor wasn’t the worse scenario I’ve found myself in, but it affected me a lot because it brought to home just how broken my body has become. And it terrified me.

And so I hid away from the world, and the realization that yeah, I’m disabled. Hard to understand because I mention that I’m disabled all of the time. I know. I mention it, I lament about it, but I have not embraced the fact that I’m disabled. I haven’t accepted it. I’ve rebelled against it and raged at the unfairness of it all. But, I haven’t really acknowledged that it’s a part of who I am. And until I do embrace that part of me as an integral part of who I am, well… how can I become a member of society again? My dream is to open a store and sell things to the public. I can’t do that if I’m hiding away in my house and licking my wounds. Wounds have to heal eventually, even if they leave scars. If I want to realize my dream, I have to come out of my hidey-hole because the things I need to do, the people I need to talk with and the places I need to go? They’re not gonna come to me. Of course this doesn’t mean I’m gonna kick open my door and start singing about how great the world is “outside”. Baby steps y’all. Baby steps.

The Dangers of Dreaming Big

A while back I posted about my little dream of owning a small piece of property with a retail store attached and maybe opening up a thrifty type store to sell reclaimed crafty goods — or something like that. Owning a retail store is something I’ve dreamed about for a long time. And I’ve always… always… wanted to own the building and live in it. It’s just way more convenient that way and if I want to do something with the store in the middle of the night… well it’s right there. There are drawbacks to this of course — there are drawbacks to everything, but this has been my vision from the start.

Anyway, part of making a dream a reality is doing a little research, and so I’ve been looking at businesses that are on the market right now just so see what’s what. I found this listing:

Sandia Crest House

That, dear reader, is the Sandia Crest House, and it sits on top of the one of the peaks of the Sandia mountains. It has a gift shop, a cafe, a two bedroom living area, and a one bedroom living area on about a quarter acre of land. And the listing price is only $349,000! That’s like about as much as we paid for our house! We can totally afford that! And the view, dear reader, is amazing. Now, it’s not the dream I was thinking of, but! I could totally sell trinkets from local artists just as easily. I’m adaptable that way. Oh, y’all! When I saw this listing, my mind took off running. You just don’t know. I was filled with dreams on how to make it work. I mean, it would be a hella commute for Doug (being on the top of a mountain and all) unless he could work remotely, and we’d be snowed in for up to months a year (being on top of a mountain and all) and there’s possibly bears. Definitely coyotes, all kinds of snakes… but look at the view!

From our visit when we lived there

Sigh… ^_^ Of course, just because we want something doesn’t mean the world will let us have it. We still have a mortgage on this house and we have to sell it. Doug hasn’t got a job in Albuquerque, so even if we wanted to, we couldn’t take out a mortgage on a house/store there right away. I am starting on a business plan for my little store, but I’m still in the researching and development stage. No, the only way we’d be able to make this particular property work is if we had an extra $500,000 lying around to buy the place outright (so we wouldn’t have to worry about a mortgage), stock it up and make any repairs needed. And we just don’t have that kind of pocket change. But hey, it was nice to dream the dream… and while I continue to research my actual dream, I’ll still have the “what if’s…” about this place. Because I think we’re all dreamers in one way or another. You know?

It’s a great view

Plus there are other things to consider about this property — nice as it is. Like the problems we have in our current house with living so far from the city. Like, if something goes wrong we have to pay extra for plumbers, electricians and others to come out. And we’d be miles from any grocery store. Though I suppose having a cafe in the store would help with getting food. ๐Ÿ™‚ Having a built-in store and cafe though, that means employees right off the bat, and that’s something I totally am not ready for. I mean, I could, — maybe — but it would take some adjustments. But I might could make it work. Maybe.

And that, dear reader, is the danger of dreaming big. It’s how I got into the mess I’m in now — sitting on a property that’s slowly being eaten alive by blackberry bushes with outbuildings falling into disrepair because I’m too sick to take care of them and Doug just doesn’t want to. I had big dreams, and Doug didn’t share them. A whole lot of miscommunication later and here we are. Now with the Sandia House, Doug’s all… “Oh, that would be nice.” So he’s more on board with that than he was with this property… still I think it’s slightly — ever so slightly out of our reach. I would be much more able to run a shop and cafe than I ever was able to run a small farm, but Doug would still need to help now and again. And therein lies the rub, this is, after all, my dream.


Back to looking for smaller stores and more viable options. Every once in a while though, there will be things like this that come along and I’ll go: “What if…?” and hopefully, dear reader the “What if…” will only last a day or two and I can get back on track. It’s a good thing though, that I don’t have a pile of money sitting around to throw at my dream, because yeah… I can be a bit impulsive at times. Ha!