Some Things

1. A man three times my age asked me to go to the symphony with him while also ensuring me that he is not a dirty old man. I've never been to the symphony. I kind of want to go. But I can't decide. I can't decide whether it's an opportunity to hang out with an interesting person and have a very unique life experience. Or if I would simply find myself out on a date with an 80-year-old Frenchman wondering how I get myself into such odd situations.

2. Work is picking up. I am starting to really get the hang of my new job. And to like it.

3. My brother is coming to visit me next month. He is 15. He's going to be staying a little over a month. Anybody have family friendly, low-cost ideas for stuff we could do? So far I've got movies in the park, roller derby, a three-day trip to visit more family in Alabama on the roster. Maybe some bowling? Skating? 'Cept those aren't that cheap. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with him while I'm at work all day. I was hoping to find him some sort of summer employment to keep him busy while I'm bringing in the bacon, but I haven't had much luck with the small amount of effort I've put into that one. Me and the bro in the treehouse! Should be interesting!

I Get Quiet

When I'm down. I get quiet. I wanna' tell you about the new therapist. About MeetUp groups. About my dad teaching me how to play chess over Thanksgiving. And how tall and grown-up my brother is. About how the adults in the house no longer talk to him like he's a child. How when he talks now they treat him the same way that they treat me. They don't talk down to him or belittle him. About how happy that made me. About how my mother still makes no sense to me, but how I feel an attachment to my dad that I've never felt before.
But it's hard for me right now to get those things across. Because I feel tired and sad. Because those thoughts often get drowned in the gloom I keep feeling, and I don't want to drown all of you in it. I have to keep reminding myself that things will get better. That things could be a lot worse. That no matter how sad or lonely or confused I am, that I still have a lot of things.
I read the posts of my friends, and I envy your happiness. I envy your new arrivals, your marriages, your recipes, and your happiness. I envy them because they were things that I had. Or things that I saw for myself eventually.
Now I am in limbo. Still. Really. Still in limbo. I keep trying to get a grasp on my attitude. To tell myself that it's all in the way that I think of it. That only I can change how I feel and how I let things affect me and where I go from here. And sometimes I have a great feeling. And sometimes I don't.
All I can say is that I'm working on it. Bear with me. Because I'm trying. I'm trying to overcome my penchant for wallowing and trying to be a little less quiet. Even when I don't feel like it.

Gah

My underwear are shrinking again. I thought breaking up was supposed to make you lose weight, not gain it. I keep planning to lay low and work out and be healthy, and then life gets in the way. I've been eating whatever I desire and not getting in the workouts that I should. I've also been spending way too much money.
I theoretically like the fall, but once I have to dress for fall weather, I feel inadequate and under dressed. Fall dressing costs so much more than summer. Why are these the things that I worry about?
Anyway, it's about time to reign in the spending and beer and general sloth. I need a plan. I need to stick to it. These past few months it's been my goal to turn inward and start focusing on myself. I know I can't totally drop off the social scene without depressing repercussions, but I need to get my bodily health back to where it was last year. I haven't been on top of it for a while.

I Am A Responsible Grown-Up...

...who takes back her new yellow iPod Nano to the Apple store upon discovery that it is not compatible with her work computer's version of iTunes (which is not version 9) instead of buying a new computer on credit to go along with her new yellow iPod.
See how responsible I am? Responsible, I say!
Sigh.
Also, area rugs...they cost as much as 5th generation 16 GB yellow Nanos, just in case you were wondering. Just in case you were trying to be a responsible grown-up who buys area rugs for your new apartment rather than flashy new Nanos that you can't utilize anyway.
Humph.
Being a grown up. Boo.

Yo-yo

No. Not like a rapper. Like a child's plaything. This is what I am. What I feel like. I hate to be so whiny, but christ, could my mind make up its mind at some point? I feel like I'm at the whim of a small, whiny child who wants to simultaneously bring me joy and throw me down a flight of stairs. Today I feel okay. Yesterday I thought I was going to fall apart at every moment. The day before that I not only felt like I was going to fall apart at any moment, but did, on more than one occasion.
I would just like to hit on a moment of clarity that actually sticks with me. I would like to make up my mind about something and maintain it. Not find that twenty minutes later I am frustrated about the same thing that I talked myself out of being angry about only minutes before. I would like to maintain my resolve, I guess is what I'm saying.
I am angry. I am sad. I feel disillusioned. Mostly with myself. I'm disappointed in myself. I feel naive about my expectations. I'm no longer sure of anything. I'm scared. I'm lonely. I was excited about my new apartment, but now I feel overwhelmed by fear and loathing (but not in Las Vegas).
Make a decision, brain! I beg you! Make a decision and actually stick with it. Maybe this is all part of the process. Maybe I'm being impatient. I am sort of impatient.
Fine. I will wait it out. I will see if this is going anywhere good. I will hope that this is all a part of getting me to where I want to be.

I Can't Stop Smiling

I put a deposit down on an apartment. Like 25 minutes ago. I will be a resident of the West Side in roughly three weeks (apologies to those of you trying to recruit me to the E. Side, but I know that you understand). It's off of Murphy Road. It's older. It's an upstairs, studio apartment. It's not very big, but it will be big enough for me and my boy. As long as there are no roaches, I will be happy. The rent isn't much more than I pay now, plus I figure that since water and electric are included, I'll actually be saving money at this place. Plus it's super close to work. I'm so excited. I feel good about this.
I will be working some major overtime to make up for the overlap in rent, but I really don't care. It will be worth it. It has wood paneling. I don't care. It will be worth it. I'm so excited. I am going to go baby-sit now, but I had to share.
Well... hello, Nashville.*

*Please read this in your campiest Kim Cattrall SATC voice.

Narcolepsy

"But I'm not tired. I'm not tired. I'm not tired. I just sleep."

This is where I currently find myself. I'm not tired. I'm just tired of things. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of feeling and thinking and enduring. Things that just seem to be on loop. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of questioning who I am and what I want and how to get it. I want to curl up into a tiny space. I want to turn my brain off. I want to wake up when it's all over. I don't want to deal with these things that I feel. I don't want to go to work every day and look around me and push through another 8 hours feeling the hopelessness and helplessness that I feel. I don't want to go home and walk my dog, and make my dinner, and find a book to read until I can finally go to bed and shut it all out for another 8 hours until I start all over again.

I want to go to sleep. And I want to wake up once the hard part is over. I know that this is impossible. I know that I can't get to where I want to be without dealing with all of this shit. The messy shit. The hard part. I know that. Nonetheless. I'm so tired of it all.

But I'm not tired. I just want to sleep. Does the butterfly feel any pain during metamorphosis? Am I even going to end up being the person that I want to be? Is all of this pain even going to be worth it?

Life Is Hard

Regardless of where your troubles fall on the spectrum of standard to tragic, from mundane to horrific, life is hard. We only get what we're handed. I sometimes feel ridiculous being so upset about the things that have happened to me, both now and in the past, when I compare them to the things that people I know have been through. I feel stupid crying about my love lost, my fear of being alone, my resentment of my mother. I get annoyed with myself for succumbing to the pain of heartbreak and the insecurity of not having many friends. I remind myself how much worse it could be. I don't live in a war-torn country. I haven't been abused or discriminated against. I have a job. I have a place to live. I have a dog. I have the things that I need to live. My problems are pretty cushy problems to have. I get embarrassed when I think about going to a therapist and complaining about these very middle class issues.
But.
I'm reading Eat, Pray, Love right now. The author, Liz Gilbert, actually addresses exactly this issue fairly early in the book. She describes a conversation with a therapist friend who has signed up to work with refugees. The therapist friend explains to her that even with all of things that these people have seen and experienced, when she finally meets with them, they all want to talk about their love lives. Their broken hearts.
And so. I guess that is the common thread among us. We are all like this. Life is hard. Love is hard. Loving someone is hard. It doesn't always work out the way that you thought it would.
I try to remind myself of this. I'm also trying to maintain some clarity and self-awareness as I go through this time in my life, so that I don't lose sight of the fact that I've still got it okay, even if my whole life is going a different way than I'd anticipated.
Additionally, so this won't seem so cryptic, my Tony and I are no more. Six years is a long time, and I feel like I'm starting my life all over again. So. Here we go.

Ponderous

Well, it's been kind of a boring weekend. We went to an 80's party on Friday night, which was fun. Tony and I definitely had the best costumes of all the attendees. It should be noted that only our table and about two others even knew about the theme. But the bartenders appreciated our efforts.

Other than that it's been let's lay around and talk about whether or not we should get a new dog. Tony wants one. I want one, just not in our apartment. But then I think, wouldn't it be better to have the puppy mostly trained and ready once we're in our own house, as opposed to starting it all when we're not in a rental property? We pretty much decided that we are both too indecisive about it, and that that is a sign that we aren't ready for dog #2. I did get excited about the prospect of a puppy galumphing about though.

It's time to kick in the overtime. The summer is always harder for me to focus at work. I find myself gazing out the window at the sun and dreaming of the sweet tan that I could be working on by my pool. I find myself craving half days and days off for no reason other than to not be at work.

But. My brother is coming to visit soon, and I'll need extra cash for while he's here, so I need to start padding those paychecks a little. Tony and I also want to move out of this apartment and hopefully into a house when our lease is up here, that means that I need to start paying down some debt and trying to make a little savings nest. That means I need to make more money. That means I need to work overtime. Or get a second job. I think at least until the summer is over, I'll focus on overtime.

Blegh. I'm not feeling it, but sometimes it's necessary. I've also been a little less than stellar at work lately, so I guess it's time to get back to my previous self in that respect as well.