Tuesday Morning Ponderings

We've moved into a new office building. It's different, different noises and a reconfiguration of offices and the people in them. Different keys, alarm system and we now have a lunch room. It doesn't feel like the same job anymore. I'm doing the same things on the same computer at the same desk, but it feels like a new job. Tuesday mornings are the same hectic and bitchy mindspace. I still am taking the time to blog because I know I am going to be here at minimum 12 hours, a few of them with nothing to do anyway except wait, so I have a few free moments. Or, I will, later. So whatever.

I feel good today. Calm.

Zenned out, if that is a word.

Jeannine, who rocks, really helped me get a few things straightened out in my chaotic & convoluted brain. I love friends. No, I love MY friends. They really do make it or break it, life that is. The times in my life where I just wanted to be done, done living, I couldn't see my friends. They were around, but I didn't have the capacity to recognize them from all the other faces in the crowd. It wasn't about anyone but me, either. Invitations were turned down. Calls not returned. Emails ignored. I do this when I'm feeling crazy. Crazy good or crazy bad. And I really REALLY do love and appreciate those who don't bail on me.

Not sure if I'm feeling my crusty do at the moment. I might shave it all off.

jumbles

I'm not into blogging right now.

I don't know why.

Or maybe I do.

But.

My mind is all over the place & the blog isn't really a diary.

It's not under my bed or in my sock drawer, and it's not locked with a tiny golden key.

You know how when you read old diarys and you think, wow, what the hell happened there?

I'm paranoid I'd be writing some of those.

wtf

pages.

Doing Cycles

And these will help me live "above the line"...


How do I feel?

I feel anxiety. I feel sick of being here. I feel afraid I won't be able to catch the puppies now that they are under the deck.

what do I need? I need rest. I need the pups to be gone to a good home. I need to get my freaking ads done so i can leave.

do I need support? i don't know.


Are my expectations reasonable? Yes.

Is my thinking positive and powerful? No.

What is the essential pain and the earned reward?

The essential pain is to buckle down and do it. The reward would be being able to go home and nap.






Hmm. I still feel the same. Tired, overwhelmed, worried.. anxious.

*sigh*

I don't know what's going on. I feel so deflated. I'm really sorry to all my friends I've been avoiding or ignoring. I'm not having a good time in life right now.

I think I'm having a pre-midlife crisis.

I'm glad I went home yesterday though - hanging with my dad was actually a good thing, and he helped me rescue sweet baby puppies. Well, scared and barky babies, but I'm convinced that they are sweet deep down.

I feel like crying. I think I need drugs or something... i guess I could have a xanax since I have like, 80 of them left from when I did see a therapist. I also have the two prozak or something that Matt gave me when he worked here. He was always into trading perscription drugs. haha...

I hope I can find these babies a home.

My sweet Leela.

I haven't really dealt with this yet. I haven't really been able to feel the loss. Leela, my sweet and loving 25 lb Calico died a little over a week ago, and I haven't cried much or talked about it much. I haven't grieved.

When it first happened I felt numb. I was glad it happened fast. I was glad she didn't suffer. I was sorry that our last goodbye was just a quick pat on the head before I headed out the door. Why didn't I at least sit with her for a while? Why didn't I realize that her meow was so different than normal and take her to the vet? It actually crossed my mind that the meow was weird - but when I pet her she purred and seemed happy. I thought it was just her good morning meow, with a twist.

The more time that goes by I realize more and more that I am acting odd about this. It's like I'm blowing it off. It's like I'm just not letting myself believe it.

I hate not having her around. I hate that she's gone. I hate that she died. It's weird only putting a handful of food in the bowl and having it last 3 days. It's freaky that Nibbler is always around, always on top of me, always snuggling like she never did before. It's so sad that my big green eyed baby is nowhere to be found. She's not on the loveseat, she's not next to my desk, she's not anywhere anymore.

I don't understand why I'm not wailing and flailing and laying awake at night. All I feel is a cold, flat sadness. It's like a pain that's always been there, cool and mellow, living as a a permanent part of me.

I wonder if losing my mom changed me. I wonder if I still have the capacity to feel the pain of losing a cat - after my frame of reference has changed so drastically. I hope not. My little girl deserves a million tears to be shed for her. She deserves a grave covered with purple forget me nots. She deserves so much more than this.