My Life as a Band Wife

I am so glad this week is over. Although, I do wish the weekend were one day longer this time around. Who doesn’t, right?

It’s been a very busy week at work putting together a presentation for a really cool client. We went into NYC to present and catch up on what’s new, among other things. I was telling my boss and colleague at a dinner party on Friday that I’d love to share my work adventures with all of you, but so much of it is confidential. Currently, the best I can do is share my freelance work for Watertown Patch with all of you.

Anywho, yesterday was home inspection day. What you see above is Niles enjoying the sun in, what will be, his (and our) new home. He had previously been sitting on the rug where the Defeater hoodie is. He likes to snuggle in and sits there, looking at me helplessly if he can’t.

It was an incredibly intense thing. First of all, when the hell did I become an adult? Why are these people standing before me, telling me about how the breaker box will have to be replaced, we need gutters, the barn will need a new roof in three years, this is why the mold has grown all over these suitcases near the hookup to the well, and we better get a garage door guy in there because they are misaligned and not safely attached.

What? Who AM I?

Why am I standing here, in this empty house, when my husband is in Europe playing a show where one of my best friend’s lives? Why am I not in the picture they took together to send to me?

Ah, yes, because I am a an adult, a woman, with a career that I love, a dog, bills to pay, and this house that I am trying to buy. With my husband.

2011 sure has been a whacky, wirlwind of a year.

All the stress of the last week and half has lead to stomach problems and excrutiating joint pain. I stayed in bed yesterday after the home inspection to recover and found myself wishing that Jay was here to go through all of these things with me, and like the GIF I reblogged yesterday, jealous that I wasn’t able to hang out with the boys and my wonderful Miss Sophie.

Today is our 3 month wedding anniversary and my sister Caroline’s 10th birthday. I have a massage at 3 pm, which I so desperately need, and a lot of tasks on my todo list to check off before then.

I’m looking forward to Desperate Housewives tonight — seriously, is it time for Tom and Lynette to get back together yet? This is getting ridiculous.

Laura ♥

P.S. I signed up for Path. I haven’t used it much, but I also have approximately two friends on it. Join me? Laura Paine Maas.

Lent comes but once a year for even the most devout Catholic, but for Watertown’s Danne Dzenawagis, it has become a way of life – despite being a self-described “lapsed Catholic.”

Like many of us, Danne Dzenawagis makes New Year’s resolutions that she has a hard time keeping, but she has taken her effort online in the form of a blog, which recently was nominated for an award from a national magazine.

In 2008, the 27-year-old East Watertown resident made the decision to take her resolutions and devote an entire month to each one. Raised as a Catholic, Dzenawagis has always given up something for lent because she “likes the challenge of giving something up.”

“There were so many things I wanted to do and I didn’t know how I would be able to get them all done, so I broke them down into something manageable,” Dzenawagis said. “It’s a good way to discipline yourself.”

Read more on Watertown Patch!

As many of you know, before I got into PR I was a reporter for the Watertown TAB. Well, I loved Watertown — and reporting — so much that I wanted to keep writing when I could. I’ve been lucky to work with Patch editor Charlie Breitrose who is letting me contribute to Watertown Patch.

Danne has a really cool blog, and I hope you will read my story and let me know what you think!

Laura ♥

Good evening everyone!

As I mentioned in one of my last posts, I’ve been really sick. Remember back when I wrote that post about my “perfect” life? Well, the Sjogren’s has struck again. The truth is, I haven’t been feeling “well” for the last month. I use the term well loosely, because I don’t usually feel great. But I have definitely felt better.

It’s the time of year when everyone gets sick, colds and the flu are easy to contract, but usually, they’re not a big deal. Unless you have a compromised immune system.

Wednesday, around the end of my work day, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Nausea set in and a fever took hold. I left work an hour early and didn’t return until this morning. I spent four days in bed. I had a fever, chills, and I was dizzier than I care to remember. All of my joints ached and I some how managed to pull a muscle in my calf, making my trips up and down the stairs even harder.

I’m used to having joint pain and feeling my hands give out mid-way through my day. It’s been a part of my life, since I contracted Lyme Disease about three years ago. I’m accustomed to struggling with the stairs. 

I don’t generally write about these things, because what’s the point? But with everything that has been going on and people ragging on me for the theme of this blog, I thought I’d open myself up and be a little bit vulnerable.

When I have these episodes, not having Jay here is the hardest thing. I have a dog to walk, I have to feed myself and I have a job to do. I need help getting up and down the stairs.

When I have these episodes I become wracked with guilt. I know that I can’t help it, but I feel like I am letting everyone down — from my husband, to my dog, to my friends and family, to my co-workers and my employers.

Anyway, I went to the doctor who said I had fluid in both of my ears (double ear infection, FTW!). Beyond that, she gave me a referral to another specialist for the autoimmune disorder. I’ve seen two already. The first told me to go online to read all about my new found disorder. The second treats the elderly and felt that because I was 22 years old, there was no way I could be that sick.

“Maybe it’s fibromyalgia,” he had said. I shook my head and left in disbelief. Though I have many of those symptoms, I have others that prove it’s more. I gave up on doctors after that.

Now, lets go back to Saturday. This is day four of having a fever, headache, joint pain, and all kinds of other awesome symptoms. I just sprawled out on my floor and cried. Every time I have an episode I am reminded of some really scary facts. It could get worse instead of better. There is no cure. Since I don’t produce fluid very well naturally, having children may be very difficult.

Seriously. Why can’t I cut myself some slack? Why do I have to put myself through that every time I have an episode? It’s insane and gets me no where. But I was very sick, very vulnerable, and my husband had been gone for three and a half weeks.

I wrote this because I thought it was only fair to give you some insight into what it’s like to live in my dry, itchy skin every day, and to take a peek at what I really go through. This is the best I’ve felt in a month, and I can still feel the ear infection and mild fever. I try to stay positive about things because, well, where is being negative going to get me?

It isn’t going to change my situation. Maybe this new doctor will be able to help me. I doubt it. But I did some research and spent over $100 on vitamins and supplements and I’ve found a massage therapist who actually gets me and what I’m going through.

In a little less than two weeks, I’ll have my husband back for 10 days. I’ll have a small slice of my family life again. That’s what I most look forward to. I love my career and working keeps me busy, but there is something to be said for having what you love waiting for you at home.

Anyway, I have a recipe for beef barley stew that I am hoping to get up in the coming days and I also have a story to right for Watertown Patch. Now that my energy levels are becoming a bit more regular, I should be able to post more normally. 

So, how is that, anons? My life as a Sjoggie. It doesn’t get more real than that.