Journal/Blog

September 21, 2007

So, I didn't get to update my blog yesterday.  I was traveling and did not have access to a computer.  On top of that I have the worst head cold.

Wednesday I drove to Phoenix, which is about a four hour drive from my home.  I haven't been feeling well, and the drive was awful.  My head was so stuffed it felt like it was going to explode.  Of course there were lots of elevation changes on the drive, and my ears wouldn't pop.  So, I couldn't hear anything half the time.

I leave for Phoenix at 5 p.m. because I have a meeting at Kingman High School.  I have a site team at each high school and community college in the county that helps me complete the goals for the grant that I manage.  The site team meeting does not go well.  Partly because I can't think with my head all clogged up; partly because I've made some changes and the team doesn't deal well with change.  The changes were mandated by the department of education.  Of course, I'm still the bad guy.

Anyway, I arrive at my hotel in Phoenix at 9 p.m. and collapse into bed.  I wake up around 4 a.m. unable to breathe.  I get up and blow my nose a million times and then take some more medicine.

I didn't really want to go to Phoenix but the state director of the grant I manage has mandatory monthly meetings.  It doesn't matter if you’re sick and dying, if you are not in the hospital you will be at the meetings.

So, 6 a.m. I'm up and getting ready for the meeting.  The meeting runs from 8:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.  We eat lunch during the meeting.  Dennis, the state director, does not believe in breaks.  If you have to go to the restroom you get up and go to the restroom and come back.

On my way to the meeting I figure I will get gas so that after the meeting I can just hit the highway and get home.  I still feel like crap and just want to crawl back into bed.  I stop for coffee from Starbucks, and then look for a gas station.

I find an Arco gas station and pull in to get gas.  At the pump I insert my debit card, enter my pin, etc.  A message pops up on the screen that says the card is not authorized.  I try again.  It still doesn't work.  Now I'm uncomfortable.  Did I schedule a bill to be paid and not write it in the checkbook?  What is going on?  I call the bank.  I have plenty of money in the bank.  I try the card again.  It still doesn't work.

Now I'm thinking maybe it's the Arco machine that's messed up.  I drive down the street to a Circle K.  My card doesn't work there either.  I'm starting to panic because I'm 300 miles from home with no money and less than half a tank of gas.

I frantically dial the bank again.  This time I wander through their stupid automated system until I finally get to a person.  I explain that I am traveling and I tried to purchase gas, but my card keeps coming back unauthorized.  The lady says my card has been blocked for suspicious activity.  There is a purchase for Real.com, and an attempted purchase in an area I do not live in.  The attempted purchase was made in Phoenix.  Okay duh, that's where I'm at and why I'm calling.

Now while I appreciate the bank somewhat looking out for me, I am confused.  A couple of months ago I was in Savannah, Georgia.  I used my debit card to make hundreds of dollars in purchases.  My card was not blocked then.  Real.com, that purchase is automatically charged to my card every month and has been for the last two years.

So, after getting disconnected once, 20 minutes on the phone, and playing 20 questions, my card finally works again.  I get gas and head off to my meeting, which I am now five minutes late for.

The meeting is long and full of government double talk and bureaucracy.  The grant I manage is a federal grant.  The feds give each state money.  The state then distributes the money to each county.  The meeting is attended by department of education personnel and whoever manages the grant for each county.  We talk a lot about accountability and data collection.  County representatives, like me, give an update on what is going on in their county.

Throughout the day I keep getting text messages from my ex who says my daughter still hasn't contacted him since she left two days ago.  I try getting her on her cell phone, but she doesn't text me back or call me.  My husband calls her best friend's house.  Kristy’s mom says that Megan is there.

So, my ex wants to confront Kristy’s parents.  I tell him I don't agree.  I tell him that if we take away Kristy’s as an option of a place to be she may end up somewhere we really don't want her to be. What I don't tell him is that by confronting Kristy’s parents they will probably realize everything Megan has been saying about him is true.

Come on!  She's 18 years old.  She has to make her own life whether we agree with it or not, whether we like it or not.  We are here to give her advice and guidance, but in the end it is up to her.  When she falls down we help her get up and encourage her to do better.  He doesn't see it that way at all.  We should force her to do what we think is best all the time.

He complained because Megan's counselor at the college she is attending called him and his wife helicopter parents.  He told me, "How can that counselor say that?  He doesn't even know us". I wanted to laugh in his face, but I waited until I got off the phone to laugh.  They are helicopter parents, hovering over Megan and trying to dictate everything she does.

I finally text everyone telling them to leave me alone.  I'm in a meeting and will call later.  I struggle to be enthusiastic about all the discussion going on at the meeting.  In reality, the lack of oxygen to my brain is making me sleepy and disoriented. I leave repeatedly to blow my nose.

Finally, the meeting is over.  Now I face the long drive home.  I jump on the freeway, which is moving at a snail's pace.  It takes me over an hour to get to the outskirts of town.  I stop at a shopping center and pick up some cough medicine.  There's a McDonalds across the street.  I decide to get something to eat and make some phone calls before I get back on the road.

I have a Bluetooth so I can talk on my phone while driving; however, I have a convertible.  Most of the time I drive with the top down.  The wind noise interferes with conversation so I don't usually talk on the phone while driving.

I call Megan's dad.  He doesn't answer so I leave him a voice mail telling me to call me after I get home if he needs anything.  I tell him I won't be home until after 8:30 p.m.  I call my mom and give her an update.  She agrees with my thoughts on the whole situation.  I call my husband and update him as well.

I swallow a bunch of cough syrup, the non-drowsy stuff so I can drive.  I pull out onto the highway and head for home.  I don't remember much about the drive back.  My head was so clogged up I feel like I'm in a dream, or a nightmare.  The highway is really dark; the headlights from cars moving in the opposite direction blind me.

I manage to stay on the road and make it home at 9:00 p.m.  I feel like a dead person.  The house is dark, and my husband is sound asleep.  I assume that my son is sleeping as well.  I don't unload the car, I don't get anything to drink, and I don't do anything except strip and fall into bed.

You would think that would be the end of my day, but no.  My husband wakes me up at 9:45 p.m.  "Is Keith home?'  What!  Then I remember Keith went to his high school's football game with some friends.  I get up and check Keith's room.  He's not there.  I call his cell phone.  He tells me that the game just ended and he will be home within an hour.  He says that "yes" he has his keys.  Once again I fall into bed and sweet oblivion.