A good way to find out if you really do have a life is to have your work schedule completely flip-flopped. Actually, it's a lousy way to learn that you have a life, because it's a total pain in the ass. However, that's what happened to me--I got switched from the team that I've been on for two years, to a team on a completely opposite rotation. Totally different days off and everything. The pisser was that it had nothing to do with me--it was all because of a problem that was going on with another deputy, and since the Powers That Be decided that changing said deputy to another team with a different Lt might solve the problem, and since said deputy happens to be female and the Powers That Be wanted to keep the gender distribution even on the teams, I was the lucky soul who got swapped.

Good news is that I will most likely be moving back to my old team either this week or next (since said deputy has apparently decided to quit anyway.)

Anyway, things have been a little weird and hectic around here. I had to scramble for some details, since the ones I were originally scheduled for were no good anymore (not to mention the hassle of finding people to cover the ones I had been scheduled for.) However, I figured it was probably time to do an entry since people have been starting to email me wondering if I've been killed in the line of duty or something.

Nope. Not shot! Though there was an interesting thread in Linda Dunn's newsgroup recently about funerals and non-traditional ceremonies. I was telling my mom that basically I don't give a rats ass about my funeral, though I would like all usable parts used and the rest cremated or put in the Body Farm or whatever. Except if I'm killed in the line of duty--in which case I want the humongous friggin' funeral with the horse-drawn hearse and every marked unit from every neighboring jurisdiction making an obnoxious procession all through Slidell, AND I want a street named after me!! The last officer to be killed in the line of duty in this area was Sgt. Alfred and he has a rather major street in Slidell named after him. I told Kelly, my workout partner, that I wanted a street named after me if I get killed on duty, and she said that I'd probably end up with some little cheesy dead-end dirt road somewhere! Ha Ha!

But other than having to swap shifts, work is still pretty much the same. We've had a few hot days, during which one gets to experience the unique aroma of Vest Stench. There's really no way to describe it--it's more than just the smell of sweat. And even if you wash the vest carrier constantly and spray the vest down with Febreze, that pungent aroma still lingers, fortunately only noticeable (mostly) to the wearer. Since there's no way to wash the actual ballistic material of the vest, each successive sweaty day just adds to the buildup of noxious bodily fluids soaking into the vest. Another deputy described the smell as "Something sweaty and dead down your shirt."

Oh yeah, that's the other thing that sucked about this team swap--I had to work two dayshifts in a row. Four weeks of days, and if I get swapped back to my old team this week, I'll end up working six weeks of days. Aiiieeee!! (I much prefer nights. Much cooler, and much easier to dig up something interesting.)

In other news, Zeus went in for his annual checkup last week, and was proclaimed to be in the very peak of health. I was the proud mommy as everyone in the office marveled at how big he is and how gorgeous he is. He weighed in at exactly 100 pounds! He was also very well-behaved for all of his shots, and didn't try to bite anyone--didn't even growl! I was so proud!

Okay, so maybe I don't have a life. I haven't posted in over three weeks, and I don't have a helluva lot to say. Hmmm.

Well, I did take the plunge and buy new bedroom furtniture. Choked somewhat at the price of decent bedroom furniture, but I figure that if I buy decent stuff and a good mattress set, it should last me at least fifteen years. Considering that I put up with the crap that I have now for this long, I think I can be comfortable with the new stuff for quite a long time. Needless to say, I financed it. I'm not real keen on doing too much financing, but I've managed to get most of my debt (other than the house) paid off, and I think I'll be able to get all of my new purchases paid off in a year or so. And then I want to get my eyes LASIKed. I'm sick to death of messing with contacts (especially since my latest prescription is completely screwed up--I think my optometrist was smoking crack when he was examining me.) I'm already doing some research on that, even though it's going to be at least a year.

And, since I'm getting the new furniture, I decided to go ahead and paint the bedroom before the new stuff was delivered. When I first put the pain on the wall I cringed a bit because it was a lot pinker than I'd wanted, but it dried to a nice subtle rose, and it really brightened the room up. I just wish the bedrooms were a bit larger.

Lessee... I also decided to start dance lessons, since I do want to try again to compete in the fitness competitions next year. Of course it will also be good exercise and a way to get me out of the house every now and then. I am way too much of a homebody. Anyway, I signed up for two classes--jazz and ballet. When I called about the classes, I asked if they had classes for grownups--then asked if they had classes for grownups who hadn't been in a dance class in twenty years. Fortunately the answer to both queries was yes.

Y'know, I don't really feel Old or Mature very often, even though I'm scraping that lower end of Middle Age. But when I realize that it's been multiple decades since I've done something, it occurs to me that I've been alive for a somewhat long time. I turn 35 next month, and it's pretty cool to realize that not only am I in better shape than most people my age (or even ten years younger, for that matter) I've also done a lot of Really Cool Shit in my lifetime. And I'm not even halfway through yet!