Don't Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

What do you do when someone has lied to you?

What do you do when you find out that lie and it's thrown in your face with no regard for your feelings?

What do you do when the lie was pointless and stupid?

What do you do when it hurts so much that to look at the person every day makes you angry?

Nothing.

The friendship is over. The lie- the stupid stupid lie- sealed that deal.

The camaraderie is destroyed. The inability to be mature and honest killed that.

The hope of continued laughter and fun times is gone.

All over a lie. A stupid lie.

It's funny when I found out I wasn't surprised. It was like I had known all along that the lie had been told. I just figured that it would be covered up for longer, and in a better way.

It's only now, the day after, that I'm finding the hurt and sadness that comes along with the ending of a friendship. It's only now that I'm seeing the authentic nature of someone whom I admired and respected and, wrongly, trusted.

I hate lying in all forms but, really, if you're going to do it- do it up big and lie about something better than what was lied about.

I cannot even stand to look at you. I cannot stand to be in your presence. I cannot stand to hear your name. Just the thought of you, right now, makes me angry and hurt.

Why should I mourn this? I have a wonderful husband and family to go home to. I have incredible friends who have been there through good and bad and who do not lie to me. I have a support system outside of you that I can rely on for anything and everything.

Yet, the lie you told sucked the wind from my chest and broke my heart.

And it was just so stupid.

And final.

My "New" House

Do you remember that scene from "It's a Wonderful Life" where Donna Reed, aka Mary Hatch Bailey, is fixing up the old Granville House after she and George have settled there?  She's hanging wallpaper, she's painting, she's got kids hanging off of her yet she's able to do it all- and more.

Yeah, that's been me the past few months.

Minus George Bailey.

Minus the giant old Victorian home.

Minus the gaggle of children.

Minus the wallpaper.

Plus lots more paint.

Plus do it yourself hardwood floors.

Plus lighting fixtures.

Plus a full time job and grad school.

Mary/Donna did it all while George went out and played with other people's money and built Bailey Park.  

I do it while my husband supplies people with the booze that I usually need after a night of painting.  

Mary/Donna did it during the day in between children napping and sending other kids to school and starting dinner.

I do it at night and on the weekends after working a 10 to 12 hour day while two kids under 5 BEG me to let them help me.

And I'm still not done.

The majority of our house is done.

New floors.

New master bedroom.

Bathrooms finished.

New furniture.

New colors almost everywhere.

And, yet, we are not done.  But we are done enough.

For now.

When I tell people about all of our renovations and redecorating the question I ALWAYS get is, "So, when are you putting the house on the market?"

I get that.  I understand that most people do all the work we've been doing so that they can get top dollar for their home.  I know that most people do all of this stuff, clear out their clutter and them promptly put their home up for sale.

Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind more than a few times!

But...there's always a but....the market SUCKS.

And as much as I would KILL to move, I also want to live in my "new" house for a little bit.

I want to enjoy my hardwood floors as I relax on my new couch.

I want to lay in my bed and enjoy our new bedding as I admire my handiwork on our walls and watch our new TV.

I want to look at the pictures, newly arranged, on our freshly painted hallway walls and admire the colors that come out now because of the new shade behind them.

And I want to make as much money as possible on this place as we can!

I'm no Donna Reed or Mary Hatch Bailey but I know the satisfaction of turning a house into a home and now I want to live in a little bit.

Then we'll move.

Sooner than later.

Mortality in the Midday

I had a meeting yesterday about my benefits.

I don't take medical from my job because my husband's is better and it would be silly to pay for a family plan at his work and not be on it.

Still, I had a meeting yesterday about my benefits. My dental. My health and my choice to waive those. My life insurance. And my newest one, my Critical Illness insurance.

Sounds like a fun and positive meeting, no?

No.

Really, I thought it was going to be me going in, meeting with the rep, declining my health insurance and then signing the paper giving them permission to deduct for my dental and life and disability.

Not. So. Much.

First, I found out that I cannot add on medical next year if we decide to have another kid. Well, I can but I have to add on the premium, not the POS plan where I wouldn't have to pay. Ok, scratch secondary medical off my list.

Then, I come to find out if I ever want to add on medical- AT ALL- I have to prove that I'm the primary breadwinner. Duh, I'm teacher. Scratch that off my list.

Then, we start going through all of the questions and luckily my rep, whom I've never met before and really I wasn't too fond of when she forced me to take notes during the meeting, knew everything about my history and was kind enough to answer all of the questions without actually asking me them.

"Uh, yeah, that question about long term and lifelong illnesses and cancer- you might want to go back to that one."

*Blank look*

"I had radiation treatments two years ago. I have a lifelong illness that will require daily medication fo-eva."

*Blank look* followed by, "But you're not even 30."

Can I get a hand to the forehead?!?!

"Um, Cancer and diseases don't actually discriminate by age anymore." Not that they ever did but clearly this woman was not firing on all cylinders.

"No, no of course not. I just..."

"Yeah, I know."

"Ok, we need to go way back. We need to introduce you to a few different insurance products."

"I don't want medical benefits. I just want life insurance above the basics."

"Let me tell you about Critical Illness coverage."

Oh crap.

And there it was, my death. Laid out in front of me in a lovely packet with the tagline "Financial Protection for the Unexpected".

Awesome. And all before lunch.

After we discussed that and added that option on we moved on to Life Insurance which should really just be called "The Worst Way to Get Money, EVER!"

Currently, we get a base plan for life insurance. A standard number that equals a little bit more than our salary. Nothing spectacular, but still better than nothing in the event of the unexpected.

I went above and beyond that.

My family will be taken care of in the event of the unexpected. My children will have a sufficient amount of money to live on if I pass. My husband will have some funds there to make sure they are all able to live the lives they are accustomed to.

But they won't have me.

Call me crazy but I'm betting they'd rather have me. I hope.

I know.

I had to know if my co-workers had this same conversation. I had to know if there were others with this critical illness option.

Not many. We're a "lucky" few.

I walked into this meeting ready to sign a few papers, double check some names and social security numbers and confirm choices made three years ago when I was first hired.

I walked out of this meeting holding on to benefits that will keep my family safe and secure in the event of the unexpected that really is not so unexpected.

And all before lunch.

Mortality in the midday is never a good thing, I don't care how much the benefits pay out.