Surprise!

Back from the dead, I am.

Nobody much blogs anymore do they? Facebook and IRC have taken over my blogging time, not to mention that whole job thing.

Oh, job? Why yes, thanks for asking!

I don't have one. Nope. My organization closed its doors last week, victim of piss poor management after the director left.

Thankfully, I saw the writing on the wall and began looking about a month ago, when they cut my hours back to 80% of full time. So far I've applied for 6 positions and gotten interviews for 4 of them. The last two are at the same organization, and they haven't invited anyone in yet. I have connections at all the places, so I'm not entirely in the dark about what's going on. One position was a stretch (at best) and I didn't get the job, which is fine. The other 5 I'm still in the running for, and are great fits with my experience.

So there's the backstory.

Now for the meat of this post. I'm bored and unmotivated. I've been like this for a while, actually, but with work I didn't have to worry about the boredom except on weekends. Now every day is a weekend. That's what I'm here to change.

I need structure. When I was last unemployed, I did tons of projects and it was fun, if stressful because of money. I have projects I could do now, but I'm lacking this motivation, which sucks. This is why I am going to put some structure in my life, and this blog is what's going to keep me honest.

Here's the plan, which I will likely revise as time goes on.

Wake up
Drink coffee, check FB, computer fun. (One hour)
Blog my schedule
Shower
Work
Lunch
Work
Make dinner

Here's my schedule for Day 1:

8-8:30 Shower
8:30-9:30 House cleaning
9:30-11 Get driver's license renewed.
11-12:30 Make and eat lunch, do dishes.
12:30-3 Look for jobs and apply
3-5 Garden

Garden in the afternoon isn't ideal, because it's going to be hot, but it's wet out there right now.

OK, ¡Adelante, Stew!

That's the way....

SO.

I think I mentioned earlier today that I'm a weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee bit stressed out. Well, it's getting worse. I know I'll get the things done that I need to do, but I've been left feeling absolutely wrung out. I've been on the edge of tears all morning, and a couple of times have even tipped over that edge.

No weeping or anything. Just a quivery voice, a need to look down, lump in my throat, and then a few tears have escaped onto my salmon-colored shirt. I put out a few feelers to friends just to vent a bit, and set my chat status to "woe-is-me."

---><--- This close to tears That's what my chat status says. A friend of mine that I don't talk to often, a friend who lives just far away enough to make visiting enough of a pain that it doesn't happen, a friend of mine whom I've not seen in person in over a year----this friend saw the passive "be nice to me" cry for help. Sweetheart, he is. Gave me a bit of "Tut Tut, turn that frown upside down!" attention, and then we commiserated a bit. All of a sudden all my stress and all my "Waaaaaaaaaaaah!" emotions turned around and focused on this friend. Y'all, you could hear my internal soundtrack change from The Smiths to KC and the Sunshine Band.

Poor lad didn't know what had hit him, but he rolled with it. "Stew, it really HAS been a long time since we've seen each other. I miss you! And we're both SO STRESSED!! We should really do something STRESS REDUCING!" (There's history there. It's not an out-of-the-blue offer/suggestion.)

Gotta love subtlety. And hormones/weakness.

The one seriously interesting bit here is that this is the first time in AGES that I've interacted with a man and considered him as a *man* rather than just another person. I wonder if the stress put a chink is some armor I wasn't even aware I had.

Chill, honey.

I've been communicating back and forth quite a lot over the last couple of weeks with Crush, who is one of many people I'll be seeing this weekend when I road trip around Georgia. The most recent conversation ended with him promising to make me some mixtapes for the ride back, using the CD format.

Y'all. Mixtapes. Swoon.

I have to get a hold of my emotions on this. On the one hand, the giddiness I'm feeling is just a beautiful thing to behold. I feel like I'm 14 years old. I hop along on a cloud and reread our communications over and over. I analyze every word he says to see if I can tell any intentions or interest on his part beyond friends touching base again. On average, when we IM it's for like, 1-2 hours straight, non-multitasking. He makes me laugh. Oh, my, does he ever make me laugh.
On the other hand, all of this is happening just over IM! He's impossible to read—he could either be joking or flirting!! This could be anything! And also, I haven't seen him for 16 (holy shit) years! Since 1992! I've only seen a couple of pictures! And besides, there's the distance to consider.

I’ve been obsessing a bit about this guy. I admit it. My mind is running ahead of reality. I don’t know if he has any interest in me beyond reminiscing about Old Times, and yet I’m finding myself considering such insanities as whether or not I’d move if it came down to it. Whether I’d like his family. Whether he has a cat and if so, will he please get rid of it. Whether he’d want a traditional wedding or could we just elope, as I’ve always planned to do?

Hey Cart? Get back over behind Nelly where you belong, ok?

I’m analyzing our similarities and differences in areas ranging from communication style, to religion, to politics, to life goals…the things we have in common are uncanny. The differences don’t seem to be deal breakers. I was extremely relieved, for example, when his self-categorization as a “Staunch Republican” was quickly followed by a “just kidding.” I mean, we’re not 100% on everything, but who is? There are some major obstacles, though. We’re from extremely different cultural backgrounds, for example. But again, it seems more of a challenge/opportunity than a brick wall.

That’s all just fantasy, I know. And it’s not related to Crush himself, I don't think. No matter who the person was, I’d be having these racing thoughts if I were as interested as I am in Crush.

I'm trying REALLY hard to be balanced in my approach to meeting up with Crush. I tell myself that no matter what happens this weekend, I am lucky to be back in touch with a dear friend. I’m trying to sit with the uncertainty of how he might feel.

But I don’t think I’m doing very well at finding the balance. If you’ve talked or IMed with me in the last few weeks, I’ve probably told you something like this:

“Ooooh! Crush said BLAH!! What do you think? Do you think it means Something? Is he really interested? Isn’t he so funny? Let me tell you what he said about BLAH! Oh, he’s just cute as can be. Look at how cute he is! Isn't he handsome? I love how the gray looks. You know, we practically finish each others sentences when we talk. And he and I have lived in the same places, but just at different times, over the years. It’s like we weren’t quite ready to meet back up and now we have!”

(I'm rolling my eyes at myself right now, but I'm still smiling.)

Emily tells me that usually I'm pretty fatalistic about any possible love interest. I'm worried about whether I'm being sufficiently cautious, this time. I'm scared that I'm idealizing this too much, and I'm scared that I'll be crushed if it doesn't work out, whatever THAT means. I have NO IDEA what I expect to come out of this weekend, and that scares me too. I'm so inexperienced at this whole romance thing.

I'm just a mess. But I'm grinning about it.

In case you forgot

Imperatrix was right. Photo Booth is addictive. It also feels self-absorption enabling, when I sit there and take pictures over and over, deleting until I get one that doesn't seem entirely heinous.

Not surprisingly (considering my recent state of being), I'm feeling old and battered. Looking at the picture I've posted, I just see the bags and lines. I'm glad that the turtleneck I've got on hides my the extra chin that's conspiring to wrap around my neck until it chokes me dead. It makes me want to get more of them.

(BTW, I'm slightly freaking out, because even though I want to explore these thoughts, I worry that it will make those of you who read and know me want to reassure me that no, no, no you really are cute, stew, and it's OK. I actually know that, though, and let me just make it clear that I'm not fishing. Heh. The logical part of me does accept that I'm not in the least ugly.)

These unfavorable thoughts didn't just stop me, though, from flashing a bright, honest smile at the cute, presumably unmarried* guy across from me who is absorbed in reading a huge stack of what looks to be research papers.

Oy, I still have a headache.

*Of course there's no telling if he a) has a girlfriend or even b) whether he'd ever have a girlfriend.

New addition, 12:45 p.m.
Deposited checks, and miraculously walked into a busy salon and snapped up a no-show's appointment. $50 later....

Momentary Lapse

Am currently mourning the man who(m)* I've not been seeing for a few weeks now. It was truly a flash in the pan and caused more angst than anything, so this minor grief is annoying.

Actually, it's not the loss of the man that's got me down; it's the loss of the hope, promise and possibility that came along with him.

He wasn't the right guy, and now he seems to be unresponsive to any communication at all. That's probably for the best, but it hurts nonetheless. It's actually what I wanted. I deleted his phone number, de-friended him on social networking sites, and deleted him from my IM list. But...I put him back on the IM list. I've tried a couple of times to IM him a "hey, how's it going" IM, but he doesn't IM back to me.

Maybe I should be grateful for that?

I'm writing this down so that I can take note of how I react when disappointed about situations that don't resolve themselves the way I'd like--at least when it comes to the Dave Neuhauses of the world.

It's like I feel like I'll NEVER meet anyone. Damnit. I know that's not true. Y'all are sick of hearing it. I think it a lot. Often I don't. I'm feeling like I lost a little bit of hope and perhaps more importantly, confidence.

Sigh.


*I hate the word whom. It's so damn pretentious sounding, and yet I feel compelled to show the world I know how to use it. Grrrrrrrr.

Barcelona, Society, Baking, and Men.

Last night I dreamed about being back in Barcelona again. I don't remember how I ended up there, but I had all sorts of adventures as soon as I realized I was there. I often dream about BCN. It's where I had the happiest period of my life. No worries, much friendship...I just FLOWED. When I was sad, I was sad. When I was happy, I was happy. I didn't have to think about things. They just were.

So I do. I dream about BCN. There's a recurring dream that's kind of boring, and then the one last night was new.

In fact, I went to a new section of BCN that hadn't existed before.

I liberated a fancy coat a woman had left hanging in an industrially-green room lined with cubbyholes. It was two parts. Leather and Cashmere. Oh, and fur. That makes 3, doesn't it? That coat led the women in the section of BCN I'd never explored to think I was part of this extremely highly-regarded (snooty) subset of society figures. A Wearer Of The Coat, perhaps. Then I met a young woman from the study abroad program at the private U near me, and she showed me the rock climbing wall/park. I climbed it a little bit. I didn't like her.

Then I noticed our Marianne and her Sprog had moved to BCN. Marianne was still holding down her job here in D-town, but worked from home. In her spare time, she had opened up a store. It's hard to explain the store. There was a LOT of detail I could tell. Basically it was this upscale, yet homey store that was filled with gorgeous food items Marianne had prepared. Among other things.

I especially remember mini-chocolate chip cookies tied with a green bow in sets of two. They were about the size of a quarter each, and my emotional response was "Oh, GOOD. Marianne is doing America proud," because the presentation was beautiful, and these were just the samples, people. She had also made cupcake-sized concoctions with mini-strawberries held together with some kind of pâte à choux, which somehow had left the strawberries raw AND the pastry crisp. Ah well, BCN is really a place that welcomes the surreal and modernist, so maybe that does make sense. The whole city was agog; it was by far the most fashionable store ever. It was a warm off-white/yellowish/greenish inside. It was more Foster's Market than Guglehupf in its design. (Sorry to those of you who aren't local--imagine warm and cozy and hip compared to glass and steel and hip)

Things have fallen apart with that boy situation I may have alluded to a few weeks ago. CRASH. It's the right call, but it still bums me out. Sigh. High highs create low lows. If anyone wants details, email me.

Productivity and the Beast

This morning I got up nice and early, having spent the night in. I hauled ass outside and did some long-overdue yard maintenance. Mowed, ripped out the zinnias, weeded the zinnia bed, moved the tarp off of the as-yet-unplanted bed, put cardboard down over all of that, and moved some compost to where it should be. It had been deposited in the wrong pile, see.

Oh, btw? I have a "secret" blog now. It's password protected, and it is going to be the place where I pour out my sturm und drang more privately. I'm the only one with the password. That's how it's going to stay.

Meanwhile, I'm taking suggestions on how to get a delicious, sweet hard shell, such as one finds on an M&M or Smartie. I want to custom order a full-body suit made out of that material. I considered Kevlar, but I don't want to be *that* closed off. Not yet.

Help me figure this out, will ya?

So I mentioned that this weekend marked a year since I quit smoking, right?

Well, I promised myself a new computer. But now that seems a little LARGE of a purchase. And I don't like the amount of time I'm on the computer as it is. If other people park themselves in front of the TV when they get home from work, I park myself in front of the computer.

I don't know what to do; I'm so cheap, because of what seems like necessity, that often I make these bargains with myself and don't follow through with them. That's probably not a very effective strategy in the long run, but I really feel like I can't afford ANYTHING beyond the norm. Doesn't stop me from buying beer though.

I've also really been wanting a freezer to use for those seasonal vegetables that you can't can very easily. To tell you the truth, I'd much rather have frozen huge batches of sauce from the tomatoes I bought. But I make up barriers. I mean, I've seen plenty of cheap, second hand freezers on Craigslist. They're affordable. I have a friend who has said she'd be willing to help me move it. She and her partner have a truck. There's no real reason not to get it, but I've spent all summer convincing myself it's not doable. Now my reasoning is that I've waited too long as it is, and being single I don't really need all that food anyway.

Another thing I'd like is a new digital camera. The one I have is, poor thing, older even than my computer. I bought it second-hand for a reasonable price, from someone I know takes care of their belongings. But it still works. It works. So I don't get myself a new one.

I'm having a hard time convincing myself to follow through with rewarding myself for a year of not smoking.

:-(

Any ideas?

Uh oh....

I'm having DIY hair urges. No worries, not yet. I managed to use an eyebrow razor to try to undo some of the heavy sides left over from an ill-advised, last minute visit (three months ago) to a supercuts-esque chain "stylist."

I cut my finger a little in the process, looks like.

I have an almost overwhelming urge to get a couple of sets of those eyebrow razors and just hack and hack at the back of my hair until the front is long long long and the back is well, scraggly and uneven, but cutely so.

But really? I want to DO IT MYSELF.

Besides a Flowbee, can you think of a way to tackle this? I want to teach myself to cut my hair. It's a waste of money to pay someone to do it, and I love the feeling of accomplishment that comes with learning a new skill.

What's the worst thing that could happen? I make an appointment at Syd's and ask for a shorn head because that's all the hair that's left? Bah. I've done that. (Actually? I really, REALLY love that haircut you see when you click on 'shorn head.')

Editor: In context, doesn't this have the potential to make me sound a little, well, mental?? (I can say that. You can't. Unless you can. You know who you are.) Will talk to the expert about it next time I see him.

Ah, what to do today?

I read a nice bit of advice today regarding going out and doing things alone.

However, the most important thing is that if you are dependant on friends coming to be able to do things, you will spend your life missing out on things you want to do. Friends are great when they're there, but they can't always be there - never, ever, get into the habit of not doing things you want to, just because people aren't interested or flake out at the last minute, or whatever.

It may seem like little things - but over the years, they add up. Once you've gone to this concert, lower the bar and start going to similarly no-friends-interested things you are merely tempted by and are not to-die-for. It doesn't cost you time with your friends, it just means you get to do more - being effortlessly independent is simply a better way to live. (From here)

This resonates with me. There are a lot of times I don't have access to friends, either because they are busy or because I am feeling uncomfortable calling around.

I'm going to try this. Now I have to figure out what kind of things to do.

Off to check out the Independent's events calendar...

And a chorus of angels sings...

Today felt really good.

I wasn't tired. At all. I concentrated fabulously, I got tons done, and I was exceedingly clear-headed in doing so. No anxiety messed with me, nor pervasive feelings of inadequacy. There were some not-so-great moments, and no moments of extreme giddiness.

I'm depressed.

You see, today is what normal is supposed to be. Some ups, some downs, and overall pleasant.

Now that I'm home from work, I'm not immediately escaping to my bed and shutting out the world, as per usual these days. I'm actually out on my front porch enjoying the pre-mosquito late spring evening, finally matching the song sparrow to its song. My nose is itchy, cause allergies absolutely BITE, but I'll deal.

What is the most fantastic, though? Is that I'm. Not. Tired. Today I was not a walking zombie!

I have been SO TIRED for the past several months. Just dead exhausted, barely coherent, not able to concentrate, muddy-headed, stupid-feeling and overall incapable of day-to-day functioning.

Unable to cook, unable to clean, unable to do anything beyond sleep, wake up, shower, dress, and get myself to work. I've been putting all my energy into work, so that I make a decent impression and all.

This isn't even close to the worst I've ever been depressed, and it feels like it's just a few changes away from being done with. You know, changes like exercising, eating healthier and, um, a slight medication tweak.

I made the meds tweak today. HUGE difference.

(I feel compelled to add that no, it's not the placebo effect, because we're not talking about a medication that takes weeks to work. And though I'm not hiding the name of the med that has helped me so much, neither do I want it up here on the blog. Feel free to email me. Talking about depression openly is one of my goals in life. Stigma reduction and all that.)


Oh, and p.s.? I had three lengthy visits yesterday from someone (or maybe plural?) at Alticor in Ada, Michigan. They got here by seeing what sites had linked to one of their websites in particular. Do you think I'm going to get taken out some evening when it's dark?

Substitute

May the 4th was 9 months not smoking. W00t! How did I forget?

In that nine months I've gone up, oh, two to three clothing sizes, which puts me distinctly in big girl territory for the first time ever. Oh, I've hovered on the edge before, yes indeedy, and now I have teetered over onto the other side.

Back when I was last almost plus-sized, I ended up losing 35 lbs and was truly skinny for a time. Circumstances were such that I needed exercise quite badly for other reasons, so I was working out 30 min twice a day. As a project, I also signed on to an eating plan, and over the course of a number of months I went down about 35 lbs.

And then I got laid off at my last health education gig and hired on at Evil U. And that job sucked. And I stopped exercising. And I ate Chik-Fil-A every day for lunch. And, not surprisingly, I gained weight. Since Aug 2005 I've gained 50 lbs. That is a TON! It's 15 lbs more than I had weighed before.

Sucky, huh?

It's actually not too, too bad, though.

Cause this not smoking thing? It's worth this weight. It's worth feeling crappy about my body size. It's worth having to buy all new clothes.

I'm scared, but it's coming up on the time where I now need to make the next change in my life. I seem to be motivated by not wanting to feel shitty. I feel shitty now. I feel ugly, weak and messy. I'm isolating myself.

So far in the last year I've a) gotten a much better job b) quit smoking and c) developed two really cool hobbies. I need to remember that that's a goodly amount of stuff! I have this tendency to be an all-or-nothing gal, usually tending to the "or nothing" side of things.

Hm.

Things left to work on: exercise, weight, partner.

(psssssssst...men here seem to be more tolerant of fatties than of smokers. also? i may have reached the age finally where they've gone through the inevitable divorce! there are more men on the market here than the last time i checked!)

This again

A friend of mine once told me that he suspects I feel emotions more deeply than most.

I think he's probably right.

It's great when it's joy. I can look at a flower or a bird or my garden and be utterly restored and filled in the moment with an intense swelling of pleasure. When the emotion is utter capitulation in the face of seemingly endless loneliness, though, like right now, well...it sucks.

Sheesh, I sound like a drama queen. I'm sick of crying, though. Between that and the way more frequent allergen-induced nose-running, I'm getting raw. At least the zit that was hanging on outside my nostril has healed though.

Oh, but I think I had a tick in my hair. I picked something off of my head, but I seem to have lost it in the bed. I brushed my hair out over the white sink, but I didn't get any tick falling out.

And my washer broke mid-cycle. I had to haul out the wet, soapy clothes and bail out the water when I got home today. The clothesline broke under the weight, and so the clothes are on cycle two in the dryer. Soapy and dryer. Better than mold, I suppose.

Sigh.

Over and over ad nauseum

In advance: Sorry to be such a bummer drag.

**********

Patterns in my life that don't seem capable of being changed really mess with me. I don't know. When I used to be depressed all the time, I didn't have much time or energy to deal with, you know, the things that actually make you fulfilled in life. It was more about keeping the head above the water. So now that that part of my life is (hopefully) pretty much gone and definitely NOT an issue now, I get to focus on the real meaty problems.

I've done a really good job getting myself out of habits like telling myself I suck. I don't do that anymore. Nor do I always blame myself or take responsibility for every single thing that ever goes wrong. I don't apologize for being me, most of the time, and I don't assume that what other people like is what I should like.

I'm scared to say this, which is probably why I should say it. As much as I think I try to fix the things in my life that aren't like I like them, I think I maybe just kind of fool myself into thinking I'm trying.

Maybe I don't do what I need to do.

Or maybe I'm getting depressed? Sigh. I don't know. I'd say not, and usually I can tell the difference. This isn't "I suck, there's no way out, i suck and I wanna die." This is "Oh my god I'm sick of my situation, and I feel like I'm doing all the right things, but when the hell are these two, three sticking points going to change?"

But, uh oh, I did just catch myself having spiral thoughts. You know the ones that go kind of like this: Well, it's really just that I'm not dating. Wait. And also that I don't have a house, and that I'm a bad money manager cause I just don't CARE and that well, who would want to date someone this fat, even if she is as nice as I am (OK, so not all is lost. I still have a pretty healthy view of my internal goodness. Just not the external. Because my hair sucks and I am out of shape, and all of a sudden my formerly perfect skin has gone all blotchy and riddled with weird lumps....oh and did I mention I've gotten fat?). And my, I'm not a very good worker, am I? And look at how lazy I can be. Oh my am I lazy....and my brain is just so SLOW. I can't remember the questions i want to ask the kids, and it doesn't really flow and I'm killing the plants, and I eat the damn peas before they're big enough. What's with the cracks in the radishes, anyway? And yeah, you look ugly when you have to wear the clothes you have; buy yourself something new instead of relying on some woman's freecycled clothes that are all dumpy.

That, my friends is kind of what my brain on depression looks like. But that's only 10% of me at my worst.

I still don't think I'm depressed now. Believe me, if anyone knows, I do. This is temporary and by tomorrow I'll be happy again, willing to go forward. I'll be proud of who I am, and what I do, and I'll lament those poor souls who have never met me and will never experience a bout of giggles with me.

But.

BUT

BUTBUTBUTBUTBUTBUTBUT

Recently having had an unrequited crush, I've been brought back to think again and again and again about how I am so fucking lonely. I sleep with a fucking Snoopy I got as a child. And it soothes me. That is SAD. I meet about one single man every, oh, year lets say. (I know that's a complete exaggeration, but suffice to say I've not dated since the early 1990s. There's something fundamentally wrong with that).

And that, my friends, is my demon. It hides away most of the time. But occasionally, like now, because of this boy I like who doesn't like me, well, it smarts. It smarts even more than just feeling lonely, because now I have the feeling not only of having lost out (the rejection part doesn't really bug me), but also because now he's going off the market.

Right now it feels like I'll never, ever find the companionship I want. That I need. It feels like that was my last chance ever. I was telling the man involved just yesterday that I'm in a great place now. Good job. Great friends. Hobbies I love. Causes. Community....so why can't that last piece just fall in?

I'm feeling like making a deal with the devil. I would give up...oh man, tons of things....sex? money? birds? gardening? internet? food???... if only I had someone to share the rest of it with. Everything feels really out of control right now.

This is one of those posts that I'll look back on in 20 years and wonder how in the world I could ever have been so damn angsty.

But in the meanwhile, I'm crying here. I've been crying once a week or so about this for some time. I hate it. I need to clean my glasses and take some sudafed, now that I can't breathe.

There're strawberries to be picked tomorrow, though.

Huh.

I always thought Tori Amos was black, for some reason. I have no idea why or what that means. I wonder how many other musicians that I think are black aren't. Or vice-versa. Or whatever other race/ethnicity.

Oh, I realized the other day the reason why I blog. Primarily it's because I have nobody to tell the little ins and outs of daily life.

Anyway, enjoy this:

Crawl in?

I am so so so so tired.

I come home after work, peel off my clothes, crawl into bed and crash by 9 or 10 or 11.

I have to force myself out of bed at 6:15 when my strange, new alarm clock goes off*.

I am tired when I wake up. I am tired throughout the day. I am tired at night and in the morning and most of all, maybe, when I'm at work.

I'm fine when I have had my morning coffee, for about an hour or two. And then I'm tired again.

My friend Emily said that when she started a job after not having worked in a long time she was bone-tired like this for months.

I had another friend ask if I was depressed. I don't think I am. I am unsatisfied about a couple of things in my life (weight/out-of-shape-ness), satisfied about others (have a job, improved living situation), excited about others (garden projects, upcoming friend visits, vermicompost possibilities), bummed about others (not being as connected with local friends recently), and stressed about others (un-done paperwork, job, finding a new roommate, the cost of topsoil, how sick is Pedro and when is he going to get better).

I'm tired. Just plain tired. Weary. Worn down. Drained. Done in. At times I've also become pretty sensitive. Actually, looking at that last entry I've apparently been tired for a while. I'll mention it at my next doctor's visit.

Oh, and I've had a dry, bloody nose since December.

I'm wanting to crawl into bed right now.

*Twice in the last two weeks I've set the alarm wrong and it's woken me up at midnight. Each time I got up, went into the bathroom and put my contacts in before realizing I had only slept for a couple of hours. What happens is that there are three different alarm times possible. One is set for 6:15. The other two I just haven't set yet. Which is why they are at midnight. I don't try to move the switch to the midnight alarm, but I guess I do somehow. I don't know. I'm too tired to think about it any more.

(I'm also feeling somewhat teary!)

On spring and blogging

I think I blog because I go days without talking to people in real life*. If only blogs had a "human touch" function.

In other news, I've seen boy birds both feeding prime tidbits to the girl birds and also posturing with other males (FLAP FLAP SQUWAK, SHE'S MINE!). Spring! (But I still have juncos and white-throated sparrows, both winter birds here.)

*Outside of work, that is.

Anger and Strength

Any suggestions for angry songs? I'm making a playlist, planning on making a nice CD I can blast. I tend to react to anger either by crying or cheering myself up with happy music. It's time for that to change.

So far I've got the following from my own collection, but I can't come up with anything else:

Head Like a Hole, Nine Inch Nails
Another One Bites the Dust, Queen
My Wave, Soundgarden
Bawitdaba, Kid Rock

I took out some that last night seemed like they might fit the bill, but upon reflection they were more about being hurt or about avoiding pain.

I'm looking for strength here, people.

Edited to add: This is a listing of some songs that might fit the bill, if you take out the ones about scorned lovers. Any comments?

Hmm: here's another one.

OK, so maybe I used to be Sneezy...

I've been sitting here in front of the almost blank screen, trying to figure out what to say. I'm in a funk. There's way too much drama in my life, currently. Even my therapist was bitchy to me yesterday. Ok, she was just short with me about not having a free appointment time this week, but still. Not what I needed!

I have very little interest in interacting with people, recently. Sometimes I think I'd be better off moving to a VERY isolated parcel of land and doing it all myself. 100% self-sustaining. Get some dogs for warmth and companionship, and make sure that I have internet somehow, so I don't feel a total loss of connection to other people.

Actually, a total loss of connection sounds pretty damn good right about now.