My Love Affair. The IRS Version.

I am 38 years old.  I have been filing taxes since I was 17.  That is 21 years of tax love between me and the IRS.  If the IRS and I had a baby it would be of legal drinking age this year.  I have a feeling she would be a difficult child.


I would hope that child would get my sense of humor and the IRS’s knack for numbers.

I am trying to have a sense of humor regarding my taxes.  I am waiting on a sizable refund and short story long, we submitted 01/30/16.  They flagged us, then admitted it was their mistake, and said they would reprocess.  That takes me to today.  04/04/16.  Over 65 days since we filed.  I am making my weekly call as we speak.  Trying to understand, trying to be patient.



I am currently listening to the soothing sound of IRS hold music while trying as hard as I can to remember not to have a single SMIDGE of attitude towards whomever gets my call.  Because last person you want to piss off is the IRS.  Hell we didn’t even do anything incorrectly and our 3K is being held hostage.

Held just because…

Current time on Hold:  22 Minutes

Talking to a lovely woman (no sarcasm) but have again been placed on hold
Current time on Hold: 32 Minutes

This being my 4th call, we just found out that they had our wrong address.  Which is TOTES weird since, A. We filed with our current (new) address.  And B. I have made 4 other filth flarn and filth calls and this has NEVER come up.

I am trying so hard to let this go.  But, we never received a notification there was a problem (we still have a mail forward in, so we would have received it) we keep calling, being reassured it isn’t our fault.  And they’re working on it.

I have decided it has been placed upon the desk of a person I can only assume, unfortunately had a rather nasty attack of Shingles, and has been out of the office since 2/22/16.

My return is in the 2nd stack to the left under the black folder.  I can see my name.

I swear it is lost.  None of this makes any sense.

I was just told there is NOTHING they can do.  They are allowed the 9 weeks to reprocess my return.  Even if it is their fault.  And if it still has no movement by 4/11 then they have 45 days to research.  Dear LORD give me patience and liquor.

Current time on Hold: 45 minutes

I was given a number for a “Taxpayer Advocate” number. Estimated wait time 2-4 minutes with the Advocate.


I will keep everyone updated.  All 3 followers I have left because I have been chilling with Netflix and my head in the sand for the last 6 months.

PS. “Love” and “The Ranch” were surprisingly good series on Netflix.  Give em a shot.

As Always,

Woman on Pause



Photo Credits:

The Struggle Is Real

I am struggling creatively.

It isn’t writers block.  That is when you want to write but have nothing to put down.  I want to write, have ideas, but can’t seem to consistently sit down and put words down.  It is like I am being a total brat.

To myself.


I am pretty sure this is a form of procrastination.  I am SURE I have covered procrastination in the past.  But this one…  It is bugging me.  I feel an internal struggle.  And I am not sure with what.  Is it me?  Is life making it to where I am too distracted and crazed to get the words down?  Maybe.

Or maybe I shouldn’t write.

I have wanted to write since I was a Senior in High School.  I have dabbled and then became very serious and became published (online) and was on a hot streak!  Then ever since then…


I have started thirty short stories.  I didn’t finish a one.  I have a great idea for a  novella but can’t seem to put it together.  I want to do the NaNoWriMo but I am worried I will quit a week in and be disappointed in myself all over again.

What in the hell is wrong with me?

That being said, there has to be a reason I haven’t quit.


I’m gonna go contemplate that for a bit.  I will leave you with this.  Something I saw on Facebook.  One of those things people put up all of the time.  A picture of words meant to inspire.  I hate those. But this one resonated with me.  Even two weeks after I saw it.  So, I am sharing it with you.

I am so sorry to its originator.  I have no idea who to credit here.

But I love it.

Be who

As always,

Woman on Pause

Photo Credit:

Freaking Out

I was absolutely freaking out.  I will try and nutshell this.  Bear with me. Or is it bare?  Hell, I honestly don’t know.

I was diagnosed by an urgent care doctor with something called Trigeminal Neuralgia.  Essentially this is what Wikipedia said about it when I went to go see Dr. Google.

Trigeminal neuralgia (TN, or TGN), also known as prosopalgia, or Fothergill’s disease is a neuropathicdisorder characterized by episodes of intense pain in the face, originating from the trigeminal nerve. The clinical association between TN and hemifacial spasm is the so-called tic douloureux. It has been described as among the most painful conditions known to humankind.

After reading that and realizing I wasn’t insane for thinking my scalp, ear, and face were going to melt off in a volcanic type of pain, I made an appointment with a neurologist.

That is the face I make when it happens too.  I feel ya buddy.  

He sent me for an MRI and some blood work.  Cool Beans.

I went and got the MRI, again, Cool Beans.

It went with out incident.

One hour later the tech called me and said, “Hi, can you come back in immediately?”

(Now in full, “WTF” mode) I replied, “No.”  Because essentially fuck that.

Him – Well when CAN you come back in??
Me – After work tomorrow around 2:00pm.
Him – *Sigh* if that is the best you can do.
Me – Um, did I move and mess it up??
Him – No. (He literally said nothing else)
Me – Ok, so WHY??
Him – The radiologist needs more pictures.

Needless to say I made arrangements and found out I could go.  I called back and he asked how long until I got to the hospital.  I said 10 minutes.

During this drive I am freaking the fuck out.  The logical part of me knows it is nothing.  But the urgency this man is giving me has me almost positive I have a tumor and they are getting more images of said tumor.

I walk into the hospital at 4:15pm and he is waiting on me in the lobby.

**waiting on me**

He got me right in and then in 15 minutes I was done.

I spent the rest of the night doing all I could not to cry.  I had no one to talk to and my son was with me.  I didn’t want to freak him out.  So we played AlphaBear.  And then I went to bed.

I called the neurologist the next day and he was fuming mad that the tech did that.  He got a little snippy with me.  Which I don’t think was intentional.  He said, we would call you if something was wrong.  I told him logically I knew that but it still had me very freaked out.  I told him I would never follow up with you next day on an MRI but damn.  He agreed that the tech more than likely screwed up and had to get the remaining images WHILE I still had contrast in my system.


Why not just say that???  I would have been miffed but not scared of imminent death.

Needless to say, I think I still have the TN thing, but no TUMAHHHH.

Have mercy on my soul.

Still breathing, as always,

Woman on Pause

Wiki info:


Normalcy.  Or Routine.

Something I haven’t seen or felt since May 4th, 2015.  It may not seem like a long time.  2 months and some change.  But, I am craving it so badly.  We closed on our house on May the 5th and the journey began.

It is funny.  When you move, and we moved farther inland closer to family and friends, people stop by.  Do not get me wrong.  I love that.  I love showing the house.  I love sharing this milestone with my nearest and dearest. But I have seen  more family and friends in the last two months than I have in the last ten years.

But it hasn’t stopped. Not just people, but Baseball (My 13 year old not only made All-Stars, but also made State!!) kids traveling back and forth, my working part time, My Husband working the 12 hour swing shift, my oldest Step son making the fantastic decision to join the Navy.  But with all of this comes time and running.

And that is all that we have done.

Run, Run, Run, Run, Sleep, Run, Work, Run, Run, Entertain, Sleep, Run, Work…. Repeat.


The boys go back to school (Starting new schools, Yay and EEEEEEEk) in early August and I hope that will bring some sort of routine to our lives.

I never knew I needed structure.  Go figure.


What is even odder about it all…  While craving that structure I have been desperate to write.  I let it go for quite some time.  Not truly sure why.   I just did.  But now it is almost all I think about.  It has to mean that writing is a part of my normal.  And I need to get back to “my” normal.

Everyone, thanks for hanging in there.  I know I have been quite absent.  I had to get a new domain because the internets are confusing and the google wasn’t returning my calls.  So I said, Fuck it, and got a new domain name to cut the red tape and get this blog going again.

Which I thought appropriate since, well, it is me.

Woo Hoo, I’m Baaaaaaaaaack.

 photo WOO HOO.gif

Bout Damned Time.

As Always,

Woman on Pause

Photo Credits:

Baby’s in Reno with the Vitamin D

The title of this post is from Beck’s “Loser.”  A song I can sing by heart with no music prompt.  But it also has absolutely nothing to do with this post.

It does oddly represent the scatterbrainedness of which I find myself chest deep in.  <—That may be the worst sentence I have ever written.  But who am I to mess with these things?

Confused yet?

Yeah me too.  I have been so neglectful of my wonderful little corner of the internet (this blog).  And it has been on my mind quite a bit.  So now that we are done with Thanksgiving and my house is back to a normal roar instead of the roar that comes from 4 more kids and 2 more adults, I am getting back into the swing of things.

So much so, that I downloaded a text book for a fictional writing course.  And I am already through the first chapter and (hold on to your seats folks) am half way through the first exercise.

Now, I know what you might be thinking.  Why didn’t she finish the exercise?  Well, that is because I don’t ever seem to finish anything.  It is super hard for me to finish my fiction pieces.  And I have no idea why.  So then I tend to procrastinate out of fear I won’t finish.  Which essentially  is also not finishing.  Do you all see the dilemma here?


The photo above is so full of truth….

But, the good news is, I am not getting up from this desk until I finish it.  So, if someone finds my body half eaten by cats, weeks from now, know that I had the resolve to finish just not the words.

Hope all of you are doing well and had a wonderful Thanksgiving!!

As Always,

Woman on Pause

Photo Credit:


I just deleted this entire post.  It was typed out and ready to go. 

It was crap.

Instead the truth.
I came here to say, that this blog and writing has been weighing heavily on my mind.  I hate I haven’t posted and am determined to do so more often.

I hope all of you are well and promise to bring crap free fun, asap. 

As Always,

Woman on Pause

Go Shorty

It’s my Birthday. Gonna party like it’s my Birthday.  Well actually, I plan on taking my son to Football practice and then curling up with a movie. 

Same thing right?  😉

Sorry I have been MIA but last week was a big old Bitch.  Not just because the kids went back to school and chaos ensued but there were some serious bumps in the road.  And whenever I go through major bumps it takes me around 72 hours to come out the other side. 

It is just my process. 

But, I have in fact come out the other side and feeling good.  I turn 37 today and while I thought for quite some time I was turning 38 (Who Does THAT?!?!) I am feeling really good in my skin.  I am not freaking out about 40 looming or any age.  I feel good.  And I have some things coming down the pike.  That gets me all excited as well.

I am merely checking in and hoping you all have a wonderful day.  After my 72 hour hurricane of constant thought and stress I showered, blow dried my hair, did my nails and WHATTTT… put on make up.  I decided that if I wanted to feel better during times of duress I needed to look the part.

And I took a picture.  Because frankly, it is rare to see me out of yoga pants and ponytails. And dammit I felt pretty.  The quality isn’t great but I am not good with the filters and the hashtags and all this new fangled crap on my phone.

And further proof I am not a 68 year old man who blogs in his underwear. 

Sarah 37
(As of this posting I am back in yoga pants.  It couldn’t last.) 

As Always,


Woman on Pause



Checkbooks, Glass, and Staples OH MY!

This is another one of those posts that I am just word vomiting all over the place to purge. Proceed with caution.


I have told my husband for the last 10 days it feels as if the Universe is poking me with a stick.


 photo poke.gif


I am not doing anything wrong to get the karma train to run me over. I am still doing normal stuff but the stuff coming back at me is very very icky.

First example. I tried to start our checkbook register. Wait, I know. You don’t have to tell me. We should have had this years ago. I know this. I was flat out phobic from doing it myself for years but we decided to give it a go. It is extraordinarily difficult to start a checkbook without knowing what your beginning balance is. But I did it.

Needless to say I was off by $120.00 and that blows hard. It feels like I lost it.  As if it were in my pocket and I dropped it in the Target parking lot.   I also know that I won’t TRULY know if I am on point until our statement comes out.  **Fingers Crossed**



Then this happened.


This is the glass piece to my french press.  I don’t own a coffee machine or a kuerig or what ever it is called.  I like my french press.  Now it is kaput.  And that gives me the sads.  Because I love coffee.  I really, really, love coffee.  So I ended up googling how to make it without a coffee maker.  And it was odd to say the least.  But it worked (OK I suppose) but I am still in mourning.

RIP – Giver of warm “Get up and get em” juice.

Then… Oh then….

My kids who are 12 and 9 love to play in our neighborhood.  They stay on this street and it is filled with kids.  So, they were quite bored the other day and I allowed them to go out for an hour or two.  They check in and I realize I still need to cook, so I say, “Go on out for another hour but in at 7:30pm for dinner.”

Ten minutes later my 12 year old runs in.  B is bleeding!!!  Now my 9 year old has scrapes all the time so I wasn’t concerned too much.  Until I hit the driveway and he says the following:

“He got hit in the head with a bat.”


I almost passed out.

 photo Hale.gif


I gather up the side of my skirt, kick off my shoes and run like I am being chased.  My athletic 12 year old couldn’t catch me.  I then see my 9 year old on all fours blood all over his face.  (And I MEAN ALL OVER IT.  Totally red.  Not a stream.  A RIVER of blood.)  And a pool of it on the concrete.
*I should note here when one sees their child like this they loose at LEAST 3 years off their life.  AT LEAST.

I proceed to look at the mom who had a towel on his head next to him as to say, “Is it as bad as it looks???”  She gives me a response look and shoulder shrug that unfortunately at this juncture she isn’t totally sure.

Oh Dear God.

I have her remove the towel an there is just blood everywhere.  I see the gash about an inch in the back crown part of the head.  I ask how many fingers am I holding up, etc. etc.  He gets it and seems coherent.  I ask if he lost consciousness.  She tells me no.  I scoop him up and off to the ER we go.

I drive fast and run lights.  I can’t breathe but trying to smile so neither child starts to freak out.

He is fine.  2 staples.  It was much more superficial than it seemed.  The blood made it look much worse.  No concussion he is gravy.

But damn.  I had a literal adrenaline headache for 3 hours after we got back.  It hurt.


There is a laundry list of things that have taken a turn like this.  It seems to just keep happening.  Every other day or so.




I don’t know if Mercury is in retrograde or if I lost some sort of karmic lottery I didn’t know I entered or what the deal is.

But I am just going to put my head down and try and push past this icky cosmic goo and hope it is just temporary.

Because one of these days I am going to poke back.  And Lord help anyone if it comes to that.


As Always,


Woman on Pause





Photo Credit:

16 Thoughts You Have While Drinking Tequila

I saw this video, because I can’t seem to pass up click bait, and I thought it was the perfect representation of the stages we all go through while taking tequila shots.


When Tequila is Presented whilst engaging in beers with friends.

    1. Oh, what is this?  Tequila.  Well… Sure. Why not.
    2. OH DEAR GOD WHY?!?!?!
    3. Is my mouth and throat on actual Fire?
    4. Inevitable tequila shake as the body absorbs the toxins.

 photo shiver-long-o.gif

    1. That was HORRIBLE.
    2. This is why beer is the chaser.  Chase that Jet Fuel taste out of my mouth
    3. Wait, another one?
    4. But the first one…
    5. *Sigh* Sure why the hell not.  One more.

 photo niccage.gif

      1. OH DEAR GOD WHY??
      2. The burn isn’t so much napalm this time as warm camp fire.
      3. Is it hot in here?
      4. Smaller tequila tremor.  4.0 on the Cuevo Richter Scale.
      5. That wasn’t too bad.
      6. I may be sweating.
      7. Wait, wasn’t the last shot like 5 minutes ago?
      8. Another??
      9. Just one more.
      10. Wait.
      11. That wasn’t so bad.
      12. I feel like I am a walking warm blanket.  So cozy.
      13. No, I don’t have lime in my teeth and salt in my hair.
      14. That Sir was an insult and we must now partake in fisticuffs.

 photo Fisticuffs.gif

15. Black Hole of Unconsciousness



The End.

Please keep these thoughts in mind while watching the video.  I swear it is the same.damned.thing.  Well, from 11 on that is more  “My experience.”   But you get the point.

PS.  Gunga Din FTW.


As Always,


Woman on Pause

Photo Credits:

Brain Soup

This is my brain right now.
 photo brain.gif

While this may seem a bit extreme it is kind of true.  (And truth be told I have loved this gif since the beginning of time and use it as often as possible.)

I am trying to negotiate with said brain on how to get back on track.  I spent the last two months doing nothing and it made me feel icky.

I am the kind of person who can’t sit still for more than fifteen minutes.  Two months kinda messed with my brain a bit.

So I did all the things.  And as my last post stated, it is still too soon to do all the things.  I have to find a happy medium.

So I am going back to writing.  I can’t sit for long periods of time either (hip not ADHD) but I have to start to do SOMETHING.

I was texting with a friend about trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up and upcoming classes I will be taking and I mentioned I didn’t feel passionate about much of anything right now.

And she said, “You do about writing.  And you are good at it.”

I don’t know about the end part, but it reignited a flame that I had blown out about a month before surgery.

So I am committing.  And making that choice has made me now feel like this.



And that is a good thing.

More to come…


As Always,


Woman on Pause




Photo Credit: