Today I am...

...waking up very sad and overwhelmed. Thank God for good friends who are swooping in to help me get my shit together re getting these damn forms filled out. I feel like such a slug: lazy and stupid, with New Added Panic at 2 a.m.! Quite literally, last night (this morning) I woke with a start, heart racing, no dream-memory at all, just an extreme anxiety jolt about due dates and penalties and "losing everything" (as in the house, money, car, job) because I didn't get the stupid paperwork done.

All this is exacerbated by the discovery/reminder that I work tomorrow, so my "free hours" this weekend just took a major hit. And I think I put my foot in my mouth saying something thoughtless yesterday at at meeting at work. I'm so tired of that; and I'm so tired of beating myself up for doing this sort of thing.

I am better than this.

What is wrong with me!? [that is a rhetorical question: I know very well what's wrong--there's a long list]

Round One--House Cleanup in the books

BIL was here over the weekend, along with Sparky. We did a LOT of things!

• The office is emptier and a little more organized; I need to clear out files yet, but the surfaces have been emptied and lots of stuff went in the trash and elsewhere. 
• The basement...well, the main room looks worse, but the workroom/shop area...! I can actually walk into it without feeling like I'll trip and kill myself getting to the lights. BIL went through a lot of stuff from his side of the family. Much of it got tossed. There are at least two full contractor bags of trash that I'll need to get to the curb over the course of several weeks; ditto with all the magazines and other recycling. 
• We got the Honda started and moved out of the garage. The giant heap of cardboard boxes is collapsed into one box for recycling. 
• The insurance paperwork is sorted and generally made sense of. 
• BIL found Beast's Social Security card (which I need for part of the Medicaid form) in a box of Random Things From Some Drawer. 
• Sparky found Beast's cross necklace, which he now has with him.

And yesterday after BIL and Sparky left, I finally cancelled SiriusXM ($200/month), downgraded DirecTV and ordered a new remote (saving $150/month), and downgraded our Sprint account to three lines and no more monthly charges for Beast's and my phone (saving $100/month). I spent, quite literally, over two hours on phone calls to Sprint to delete BIL's number from our account and was so frustrated by the end I was just repeating "ALL I want to do is delete the line. That's all" and sobbing. They kept telling me only the account holder could cancel lines, and as I'm not the account holder it can't be done. So then let's change the name on the account--nope, gotta have proof that I'm allowed to do that. So where do I fax/email the paperwork proving I'm allowed? A transfer to another department and some ridiculous procedure that involves SNAIL-MAIL, but I really need to talk to someone else about cancelling the line...transfer back to where I started but to a new person to whom I have to give my name, the name of the account, the PIN and the password. I definitely know the PIN now! Which is great, since I'm the one who created it and changed all the online account info last month after another (shorter) marathon to find out how to do that, with the threat that if I couldn't get into the account, they wouldn't get paid because I couldn't access the bill. Oh, and I left out two trips to the nearest store--the staff of which was great, by the way!--and an online chat with customer service. All this between 2 and 6 yesterday afternoon. DirecTV = 20 minutes on the phone tops. SiriusXM = no more than a 10-minute call. Sprint = a four-hour ordeal that was only resolved when I started sobbing and calling Beast "a vegetable" who can't talk on the phone for fuck's sake! I only swore once, by the way. I just have to say that when I get really upset, it becomes entirely impossible for me to understand accented English. The guy who finally just canceled the damn thing...when he told me that, I sobbed out something like, "You're the nicest guy I've spoken to today" and then hung up without further ado. So I hope he a) deleted the right line, and b) actually DID something because I have no confirmation # to prove anything with.

[Time out to check the online bill. Guess what. The extra line is still on the bill. Also, I'm "past due" with my payment, but only $.26 is due. My next payment will be minus the $15 and whatever other charges for that extra line. I hate HATE Spring customer service.]

In short, all the wind is out of my sails. The house, superficially, looks worse: more piles in places I can see in rooms I use, and I still have all this goddamned paperwork to fill out which requires still more phone calls and planning and TIME and Finding Things (like 5 years' worth of tax returns and pay stubs and bank statements) and Making Copies of Found Things (same as above)... The weather is abysmal: rainy and dank and gray. The mailbox "temporary" fix has tipped over into the street, so I'm going to have to go to the P.O. and ask them to hold my mail for pickup till I can get someone to power out a new post-hole for a new post and mailbox setup (which means waiting for the ground to thaw). And the stupid Honda is still here, albeit out of the garage finally. The last person I want to see today is Beast, and all I want to do is crawl back in bed and alternately sleep and cry and feel sorry for myself.

Continuing in a series of extremely sporadic updates..........

Mostly this post is for putting my thoughts together, something I'm increasingly needing--and not wanting--to do. I've been trying to practice the One Day, One Minute principles, except when I have to think about wider- and longer-term stuff because reality.

So in the past month:

• Beast got stopped out of state and cited for DUI and resisting arrest. He spent the night in jail. Even though he, and I the next morning, told the jail he is diabetic, he received no insulin until after his court appearance at 1 p.m., about 24 hours after his last injection.
• He was 'grounded' from travel at work. He drives a company car and because it was damaged--rear-view mirror knocked off--they didn't want him driving at all. So we rented a car for him.
• Boss seems to be behind him, working to see what he can do to keep Beast in the game. He's been a good supervisor through all of the drama of the past 3 years.
• In the process of this 'resisting' he is accused of, the officers threw him to the ground and sat on him. His neck, back, shoulders are incredibly sore, and remain so. We're both worried about damage being done to his neck implants, but it's his lower back that hurts most.
• First time back with his attorney at the courthouse went well, more or less. He hired a local attorney to help him figure out all the complications at this end of the driver licensing stuff that may come out of the court findings at trial in [other state].
• He starts intensive, daily AA meetings, and then gets back into outpatient rehab: 9-12 every week day.
• The morning of his third day of rehab, he has a work telecon he's asked to attend. Pretty normal stuff. Except this one starts out with his boss and a guy from HR telling him they're firing him. He's to send back his phone, computer, printer...and someone will be coming to get the car. (this was 8/22) 22 years at the same company.
• Last Thursday, I discover him asleep in the living room with an (empty) bottle of vodka on his lap. He, understandably but infuriatingly, bought it Monday. He tells a mutual (AA) friend over the weekend, however, he's got 30 days in program. I'm not entirely sure that all 30 days 'count' when you've been drinking at least for four of them. But whatever. He has a sponsor and he's a lot clearer on staying sober than he has been for awhile.
• We're leaving on vacation 9/5, overseas. His next (last, hopefully) court appearance out of state is 9/2. They could remand him. They could also tell him he can't leave the country. We don't know. If he doesn't go, Sparky and I have to figure out renting and driving a car in England on our own. Yes, we'll be going, because my nephew is getting married 9/9.
• I'm attending every damned Al-Anon meeting since this started. It's helping. I'm not freaking out. Only my boss and two coworkers know the details of all of this. My sponsors and other Al-Anon people. A couple of very good friends know some parts of it. My family knows NOTHING. Honestly, there's nothing for them to know until WE know what the court decides. ... Well, I guess they need to know he's unemployed.

That's my life right now. Getting through the days, hour by hour. Woke up in a panic attack this morning, but there's nothing I can do, so I chanted the Serenity Prayer in my head and it eased a bit. Next thing is going to work and getting through my day. A LOT of important stuff is getting passed by because I just can't. I'm barely keeping my head above water, so there's a lot of prayer and a lot of inaction otherwise. This might be the true meaning of "the wheels fell off" my life.

I haven't been over here in eons, but I feel like I need to scream into the void.

I'm very very tired of my life right now.
Don't worry--that's not suicidal tiredness. I'm tired of having to be the grownup, sensible person all the time.

Being a grownup is over-rated.

Oh well, at least right now I really couldn't possible care less if I've pissed someone off. Cuz I'm pretty irritated at the fact that my Sunday night just imploded in sticky little pieces. Fortunately, clean-up-able pieces, but still.

Silver lining: the new person at last week's Tuesday meeting ... is my neighbor. Whose name is (almost) the same as mine, and whose husband is named the same as mine. And shares the same addiction as mine.

So yay for that!!

Changes

This blog stands a very good chance of--at least in the short term--very much more of a rant blog. I've been called on the carpet yet again for poor communication and lack of tact and general 'meanness' at work.

The latest spark was a convoluted series of events including being very understaffed in Technical Services staff this month, an email asking everyone to please hold off on any new projects that will involve T.S., and finding an email last week when I was off-work from the children's librarian announcing a Big New Fucking Project That Totally Involves T.S.

My original email (the topical part of it):
...Can I request that any project-y stuff in Tech Svc that we've been discussing be postponed a bit till we know what we're doing going forward? I'm not even sure what that entails--all I can think of is "Star Wars"--but if you have other stuff...maybe file it for now?

Last Wednesday's email from Children's Librarian (again just the topical part):
[YA Librarian] started weeding J Fiction for me. We are changing our series over to the same style as the Young Adult department. That means all our series books will have labels like this:
J
Author
Series
Book Number
After some thought, I've decided that all of our series will be like this. I'll update you as [YA Librarian] gets farther along.

For clarification, Technical Service is where all the cataloging, labeling, stamps, etc. etc. happens. So all the new stuff coming in will need to be changed. This is a massive project that absolutely changes how we work. It doesn't necessarily mean more work per se, but there are changes that need to be made--and I don't want to spend time redoing a bunch of labels on things that are currently sitting in the back waiting for attention. In fairness, we had discussed this project about a month ago, but were holding off for now.

My reply (the one I sent--not the 3 or 4 I deleted because they were out of line) to the to librarians involved, and my boss:
When was the new labeling decision made? Tech Services absolutely cannot be left out of this process.

The email I then sent just to my boss:
Did you know this decision had been made?? I certainly didn't. And it certainly affects how Tech Services work is done. Frankly, I'm furious. We absolutely cannot add any more work to our process right now per my email last week.

Frankly, this is far from the first time [Children's Librarian] has made decisions that blow our (T.S.'s) work out of the water, and this is the straw that just broke my calm. The last think we need at this point is another unconsidered decision piled on when we are short-staffed and -houred anyway. But she tends to do this and I'm tired of it.

That's all. Good thing I'm at home today.

Reply from the boss:
Did I know? Yes and no. [Children's Librarian] and I talked about doing this, in a theoretical sense, a few months back-- I think you were actually there for some/all of it. And I approved of the switch as something to work toward, since I do think that the labeling system we used in YA is the best way to go with all of our series, regardless of material/location. I did not know they were at the point of moving forward with it, though, no.

However, talking with [Children's and YA Librarians], they assure me that this will have virtually no impact on you or technical services. Which is why they were going ahead with it without consulting you, or me for that matter. I have expressed to [Children's Librarian] the very real and strong need to communicate with me about things like this prior to initiating them, in part to avoid the type of misunderstanding we are having here. In part to make sure there isn't something they are missing in the process. And in part, just to be respectful of her coworkers. She gets that. She apologized for blindsiding us.

For now, I have given [YA Librarian] the green light to keep working on the prep stuff-- getting some of the series together, figuring out what the labels will be and the like-- while holding off on tweaking the [database] entries until you have a chance to review what they plan on doing and weigh in on the discussion. If, in fact, this has virtually no impact on "you and yourn", I have no problem with the project proceeding. If there is more impact than they realized, we will put a hold on it until things have settled out on the staffing side, particularly in your area.

I replied to him with this:
Yes, I was there for the 'theoretical' discussion awhile back. I knew it was coming. And that is precisely why I sent the email last week saying something to the effect of "no no projects." Apparently, that's not clear enough. And to start it up while I'm gone, which at least LOOKS like she waited for me to not be available to question her.

The immediate effects of starting to work on this right now have more to do with the fact that if we get new series books in, I'd prefer not to relabel them. So, having a look over [the processing] carts--and mine--and pulling off series titles would be helpful in that regard. Also, shifting the way I look at the kids' books as they come through going forward. [Tech Service staff] need to be up to speed on what the labels will look like. We haven't even had a discussion of this type! "Virtually no impact" my left elbow! What do they think we do all day?

Also, from a purely financial point of view, we'll need to stock up on labels again. They do cost money, along with the label covers.

I'm just gobsmacked that there's this complete lack of empathy, awareness, however you look at it....amazing.

So that's where it sat. I posted something on Facebook about not liking it when I get blindsided, ignored, and mentioned the apparent "wait till Cat. isn't here to start mixing things up" thing. I worked with the Children's Librarian on Sunday. She said nothing apologetic to me at all, so I didn't bring up the topic.

The boss's intro to my (one-month late midyear) review was, "So how do you feel about your communications last week about this issue?" [hackles rising, I look for a trap] "I thought it was pretty calm, considering what I didn't send!" He then pulls out these words as clubs: "over-reaction", "paranoid", "defensive", "hurtful comments", "poor communication skills", "angry." He suggested enlisting our Employee Assistance Program to get therapy. He told me that it might actually be easier if I was just angry all the time instead of "everyone" not knowing when I was going to "overreact" to something. Mind you, not one specific example of "over-reaction" and "paranoia" prior to this mare's nest was mentioned, not one concrete option beyond the EAP was suggested (I've been in therapy that started with EAP over two years ago, I just changed and upped the amount of anti-depressants I take daily, and I go to two Al-Anon meetings a week, which I told him after his suggestion of therapy). I asked him three times, "What, specifically, do you want me to change? I am doing my best to not discuss anything not work-related with people here. I'm not gossiping. I'm not 'yelling' at people for being noisy in the workroom. I try to keep up on changes that are made every 10 seconds without communication. I'm doing my best. WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?"

Apparently someone showed him what I posted on Facebook--he's not on my usual distrib list because this sort of BS has come up in the past about my opinions about City stuff. My Facebook post "makes the library look bad." O--Kayyy. I came home that night and put everyone I work with except two people into "Acquaintance-Land" on Facebook so they will see what the Boss sees now, i.e. not much. He asked if I would apologize for that post on Facebook, and my reply was, "Sure, but I'm not instigating it, because I didn't stir this up to start with." In other words, I'll apologize when I receive one. Still nothing from the Children's Librarian.

As stunned as I was after the original email from her, I am flabbergasted that he can't seem to understand that there are two different games being played here. If I have a problem with someone on staff, or rather with something someone is doing, I talk to them. I do not, ever, run up to his office and whine and complain about how horrible that person is. I actually truly like the people I work with, all of them, and I think they're all good people working toward the same goals. Yes, I vent to him occasionally--that's what those emails to him alone were, venting--but I never, EVER expect him to act on the venting. I've told him that multiple times. It's a point of pride that I don't go up the ladder till I've exhausted my own resources in problem-solving. And it pisses me off no end that apparently other people do, and he listens to them, and gets himself involved in solving the problem.

### Break ###

OK, I needed to get this vented. It kept me awake for a couple (more) hours last night and I need to drop it and focus on work on Monday. And on having a good post-Christmas weekend, too.

Going forward, my plan is to continue the work-only communication, my counting-to-ten (or thiry-four-hundred) every time I feel my blood pressure rising, removing myself from situations that are "not my circus, not my monkeys," not gossiping. Ultimately, what the boss wants is for me to treat my coworkers like I treat the library patrons. Since I'm cordial and impersonal with them, that's where I'm headed with coworkers. Totally unsatisfying, but if that's what he wants, that's what he gets. As I told Beast, my new MO upon walking into work is "Showtime!" This is how I've approached work on days I knew were going to be particularly hectic--i.e. Sundays--but now I guess I'm just going to be "always on."

The Saga Continues....

No, not that one.

This is the one about Beast's shoulder/back/pain.

Shortest possible version: we saw the surgeon who did his lower back surgery a few years ago on Monday morning at 8 a.m. Due to holidays etc. the doctor warned us that the earliest possible date for surgery would be the second week of January but his scheduler will call and get it set up. It's Thursday late morning and Beast has called 3 times and left messages and we still haven't heard from this fantasy creature. Today he stopped on the way home from another errand for a refill on his pain Rx (prescribed by this doctor). Walgreen's wouldn't refill it because he was too early: he's been taking 4/day for two months, but for reasons unknown to us at this point, the last script was written for 2/day. Without letting us know. Clearly an error. But as it's a controlled substance, we have to dance around the office staff to get it sorted out. As I was typing that, Beast called the office and they didn't pick up. Apparently, they're at lunch, at 11:30.

Mind you, the slightly longer version is that we've had to drive an hour (one-way) TWICE in the past month to get this prescription refilled because ... Controlled Substance, new script from doctor needed for every re-up (i.e., no refills), whatever whatever, and he wasn't at his nearer-to-us-office for 4 days either time. Obviously, the last time they fucked up the dosage and neither of us thought to check, and Walgreen's didn't catch/mention it. Neither did the doctor on Monday when we were there.

So frustrated. So very very tired. And the pain that Beast was in on October 13 when we went to the ER has not abated, in fact has become worse over the intervening 2 months. He's lost the feeling in over half his dominant hand and forearm so he can't write, he's got no stamina or strength (compared to the norm), and he's lost nearly 20 lbs. because of the medicine eating his stomach. He's hanging by a thin thread, and I'm not feeling overly secure either. Not feeling very Christmas-y at all.

Can only get better

(she says, knocking wood)

Tonight has sucked. At least primarily. Sparky's home for the holiday, so that's excellent. And my reservoir of "Don't Give a Flying Peanut" is full to overflowing, which might be good for tomorrow.

But one of our sweet guinea piggies died tonight, after a few days of being sluggish and just weird. And that precipitated a fight with Beast who felt it was up to him to hold Ruka till he passed, even though he (Beast) was cratered on painkillers and nerve-blocks. And because he was cratered, he wasn't capable of being lucid or seeing reason about going to bed rather than sitting and dozing hunched over a dying guinea pig. So then he wanted to argue, which is a losing proposition for everyone when he's in this situation; I know this because this situation happens easily once a week. That's an improvement on when he was drinking a fifth of vodka--or more--every night, but dealing with it is exactly the same: he's mean, nasty, incoherent, argumentative and just generally a big asshat.

So Sparky comes home, and once again gets to watch his parents fight. We can go weeks when he's gone without even raising our voices, but it seems like when he's here, Beast needs to prove he's The Man and...yeah.

It's officially 6 weeks now that he's been in pain nonstop. We've gone several rounds with multiple doctors, had 2.5 MRIs, taken 4 or 5 different meds...and still we are just now (yesterday) reaching the action stage. He goes in next week for a cortisone shot directly into his neck near where he has a herniated disk, and then since we're pretty sure it won't fix anything, he'll schedule an appointment to talk about surgery with the same guy who did his lumbar surgery about 4 years ago.

I'm at wits' end. He's a lunatic, emotionally/physically/psychically all over the map in any given moment. He goes from fully adult to age 4 in 20 minutes and I don't always know which person I'm dealing with at any given moment, though I'm remarkably good at judging his mood. By and large, we've been ok, but tonight--and to a lesser degree last Sunday night--just about did me in. He's pissed that I made him go to bed to be rested up for company all day tomorrow. So he went to bed...but when I went up to wake him for his last pill of the night he was still awake. Still steaming. No intention of going to sleep. Because that will show me who's in charge here. And tomorrow he'll be miserable and crabby to the 11 people coming for Thanksgiving. Perfect. Because I wouldn't let him stay up till all hours holding a dying guinea pig and ruining his sleep and his body.

I am, indeed, the Evil Queen.

R.I.P. Ruka.

Ruka (rt.) in happier days

Funeral

I'm not a huge fan of funerals. I mean, I see their purpose, and I appreciate the chance to attend memorials for people I've known and loved.

Funerals are hard. They are sad--duh--and awkward and weird and uncomfortable. If you're a family member of the deceased, they're a little more manageable because you have a script to follow, places to be, plans to attend to, and you generally know a large percentage of the people in attendance.

Funerals for people who have lived long, happy lives and/or suffered a great deal before death can even be sort of a relief for those of us who have watched the decline and illness and pain.

But the funeral I'm going to today is for the partner of someone I don't know well; I know her well enough to know too much. The funeral I'm going to today is for someone who had indeed suffered a great deal and chose to end the suffering herself in a rather unpleasant way. The funeral today is for someone I only knew about through the partner/friend, and in a context where she was not presented in a good light. As a result of her death, my friend has been left in a particularly untenable financial situation, which is not what one wants to think about in the midst of mourning.

I really really hate these funerals. Funerals for people who died too young, who died because they lost focus on the important and good things around them....man these suck. They make me ANGRY. I feel impotent and helpless and overwhelmed. And awkward and weird and uncomfortable.

This is one of those moments when I know that the whole "do what makes you happy" school of thought is dead wrong. Because there is pretty much nothing happy-making about the next two hours.

ADDENDUM: It was actually somewhat worse than expected. Let me count the ways:

• The family-of-birth of the honoree completely dissed the partner. She wasn't mentioned in the bulletin or acknowledged by the speaker/pastor. Yes, they were a lesbian couple. That shouldn't matter--they were together for 10 years!
• It was held in the "atrium"-like area of one of those mega-church branches, which is located in an industrial park. The acoustics were abysmal, and the space was too small for the number of people. It was like someone's living room on meth.
• The location may be the reason people were still arriving 20 minutes after the scheduled start time.
• They burned foul incense, and maybe sage (which I get, but not with the incense, yuck) before the service, and played mental carousel music afterwards.
• People walked in carrying Starbucks. W T F ?
• The pastor/leader had obviously never met the honoree and barely had her name figured out, though the fact of her suicide was mentioned, and then waved away. And then the dude did a (modified) altar call in the midst of the homily, complete with a prayer for those committing themselves to Jesus, and the offer of Bibles after the service! As a Christian, I just wanted to melt into the floor.
• The family never spoke to the partner--and vice versa--and when the partner was getting more attention, the mom commenced WASPy weeping.

God save us all from the drama kings and queens around us, and from mean, vindictive, clueless people at these times.

"Nature"

I found this at Kwizgiver's blog who in turn found it at Live, Love, Work.

This is my favorite time of year outside. It's crisp and cool and not-humid and the bugs are mostly gone along with most of the pollen and other sneezy things. We've had a couple of frosts, so that's put an end to most everything but some leaf-mold. It's been windy enough this week, though, that the leaves are sticking around long enough to get moldy. Plus, Halloween. Which is really the Holiday Where I Buy Too Much Candy on Purpose So I Can Eat the Leftovers.

Yes, we've already had a little snow on the ground, but it doesn't last long. The sun is out most days for a bit, and we've only just today changed our clocks.

I really like being outside, but I can't do it here where I live except in the fall. It's too cold in the winter, most days, and spring brings rain and the onset of allergies that blossom into nighmarish levels in the summer, also known as Sticky Season (except not this summer, which was delightfully cool if not humidity-free). I grew up in Denver, so when it got hot in the summer, we just went to the mountains to cool off, and there was NEVER humidity! And I wasn't allergic to every-damn-thing there. Sigh. I would love to just drive up a twisty dirt road where there isn't anyone around and sit on a blanket for an afternoon. Sleep, read, watch the sky...sounds delightful, even though every time I did this in Colorado I ended up burnt bright red.

Nature in its worst guise is coming over the next six months. I hope I'm ready for snow, cold, tornadoes, and thunder and lightning.

Bummer day

Death, be not proud
by JOHN DONNE

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

For Marge O.

Holidailies

12-16 -
What is something you did / experienced for the very first time this year?

Does the complete lack of Christmas shopping spirit count? I may be shopping on Christmas Eve at this rate. I was in Kohl's today and got completely nauseous from anxiety. Ugh.

Holidailies

12-14 -
Grinch Week: To whom it may concern. Write a letter to the person / company / group annoying you the most this holiday season (examples - the radio station that keeps playing that horrible song; the guy down the street with the excess of tacky decorations; whoever it was who thought adding peppermint to a mocha was a good idea).

Dear Victorians,
Thank you for all the lovely traditions you began in your erstwhile earnestness to see that everyone had a job to do during the Yuletide. However, now that we no longer have servants up the wazoo, I curse you every year for instituting the Christmas card tradition, the Christmas pudding tradition, the tree-decorating tradition, the making-of-cookies tradition (though I'm not sure if this is truly Victorian), the giant freaking Christmas dinner tradition, the massive commercialized gift-giving tradition, and all the other things that absolutely require servants to do "properly" without losing one's mind for the entire month of December. Everyone now thinks that' all of this is what Christmas should look like, but there is pretty much no one out there who can accomplish the whole thing while keeping a good sense of joy and anticipation on tap for the, y'know, reason we celebrate in the first place. The only thing I'm on board with you-all about is Boxing Day, which we in the U.S. at least have conveniently forgotten about under duress from the "Post-Christmas-Sale" crowd.

In the inimitable words of Waylon Jennings, who probably didn't do any of this stuff, y'all can just shove it!

I remain, with a large and very full glass of wassail, yours,
Cat.

Remember

I've just read two blog posts on two completely different blogs in which the writer is wondering why someone younger, thinner, whateverer seems to so unhappy. As someone who is not younger or thinner, I can relate a little.

However, I'm also the one who "seems to have it all"--nice house, cool car, great job, wonderful husband, smart kid in (a private) college...all of which I'm so grateful for--and I can tell you right now my life is not happy. In fact, my life hasn't been worry-free in a really long time. Sure, there are hours when I'm pretty calm and stress-free, but there are at least 2 hours every day that are Hell. The only difference on a daily basis is which circle of Hell: immersion in boiling blood, upside-down burial in shit, or worse.

So, again, I plead with you all, remember that everyone -- E V E R Y O N E -- you meet is carrying a heavy load. Sometimes you can see it, or you've been told about it, or you can empathize for whatever reason; more often you have no idea. Because people are astoundingly good actors right up until they break into millions of pieces.


Incidentally, this post may only appear for a few hours, tonight and tomorrow morning, before mysteriously disappearing. Those of you know (a bit) about what's going on will know why. The whole thing is on the table now, so no more hiding stuff.

Whine

I hate my life right now.

Saturdays at work simply bite because I'm in the middle between two other librarians who are at either end of the energy scale, but both are very annoying and I would be happy to force them both into a cage match, fight to the death.

Home just isn't fun. I'm trying to be patient and holding it together till next Monday (9 days from now) when I hope Beast's doctor can magically cure everything.

My extended family is also making me crazy.

Bright spots? Maybe not few, but certainly far between.

Who, me? Crabby?

Yes, yes I am actually very crabby.

I'm also really annoyed with myself for allowing myself to wallow in feeling sorry for myself. What a miserable excuse for an adult I'm being about a specific personal relationship. I need to get over it, or deal with it. Instead, I've spent the week being angry (and myself and the other person) and pouting....while also thinking to myself, "You know, if this were Sparky--or anyone else--behaving this way, you'd tell them to grow the fuck up."

So, I'm gonna put on my Big Girl Panties and try to do just that.

But I don't have to LIKE it! See the opening sentence.

It's gonna be like that, is it?

So, I've failed to follow through on Poetry Month in April and the Blog Challenge last month. We are all now perfectly clear on one of my biggest character flaws: I have a tendency to start projects with a big ol' bang and then fizzle out in the middle.

I assure you, there are exceptions. This year, though, seems to be the year of no-follow-through. I'm feeling it in my interpersonal relationships, outside the family. I'm feeling it a little at work--I bailed on that class I was taking in April, as well as the Poetry Month--and I'm definitely feeling it in blogland. Even Facebook and Goodreads, and other online locales, are getting short shrift.

And of course, my house. My poor, not-very-clean house, and projects that have been lying around since Christmas. I can hear the piper's tune getting angrier. I know that at some point I'll have to pay him. I'm guessing along about September 15 the shit's going to hit the fan and I'm going to commence Full Panic Stations at Red Alert (because that's not redundant, oh no).

I should probably be feeling great big gobs of guilt over all of this failing-to-live-up-to-standards, but I don't. I'm getting through the days. There have been few crises in the past few weeks. Sparky's class seems to be going better this time around. Beast is still mostly on the up-tick from last year's drama. The only place I'm feeling agita is in the friendship department.

And, believe it or not, even with all this lackadaisicality (lackadaisicalness?), I have managed to lose about 10 pounds since April. I'm not breaking any speed records, but I really took my doctor's words to heart: just lose it, 5-10 pounds a year is fine, since that's about the rate I've been putting it on. I don't feel like I'm starving, I still eat the occasional (or frequent, this week) ice cream or donut, I'm just eating less. Now that I can't be outside because the allergy thing has kicked in hard, the walking exercise will have to be replaced by ... something. We'll see.

In the short term, Beast and I will be celebrating our anniversary in The Big City for the next couple of days; once again, they'll be shooting off fireworks for us (ha ha), though I'm not sure where or whether we're going to see them. Sparky's home from school for the weekend, but he's headed back before we return home on Saturday. At least he's here long enough to feed the guinea pigs and take the trash out for pickup while we're gone.

Yeah. Basically, I'm waiting. Waiting for what? The other shoe to drop? Katherine & Alan's baby to be born (that's about a month out now)? I don't know. But I do know I have a strong sense of waiting, patiently or not. I'm generally not a "good" wait-er. I get anxious. And bored. But I'm hearing "They also serve who only stand and wait" (Milton) rabbiting through my brain a lot. And I'm trying to be patient in hope that I'll get a clue at some point. I just hope I'm not zoned out or asleep when it zooms past.

Blog Challenge

I probably should have done this yesterday morning: I didn't get home last night until 10 and then was up and out of the house this morning at 6, so I'm (tah-dah) behind again.

Yesterday's topic was Your Views on Religion. I go to church fairly regularly, Bible Study weekly, have taught Sunday School for a kabillion years, and been a youth group leader. My family, except for my brother and two of my nephews, is also pretty churchy. So, you'd think I'd also be up in people's faces about God. Frankly, I'm more than willing to talk about God, but I don't shove my beliefs at other people. I don't mock other people's beliefs. It pisses me off when I see either of those things happening, especially if it's a professing Christian doing it. And honestly, if you do either of those things to me, I'm liable to get Very Cranky.

Today--doing an about-face--I'm supposed to write about A Time [I] Thought About Ending [My] Life. High school and college had a few bumps like this, but since adolescence has waned I haven't ever seriously considered it for more than fleeting moments on extraordinarily awful days. It's interesting that the person writing the questions makes the assumption that everyone would have actually seriously considered suicide. That's not to say I don't know how to do it; I do read a lot of mysteries. Beast used to joke about whether he should worry about me offing him, for heaven's sake, and we've been married for nearly 27 years. ;-)

#FAIL

Yes, as a matter of fact I have completely dropped the ball on posting poetry this month.

I'm thinking I'll just post the accumulated poems that were supposed to go up daily over the course of the next few months as I update the blog. Today is the first really nice springy day. I've pretty much blown-off my RDA course for the last two weeks. It's been a rough month.

End of April
by Phillis Levin

Under a cherry tree
I found a robin’s egg,
broken, but not shattered.

I had been thinking of you,
and was kneeling in the grass
among fallen blossoms

when I saw it: a blue scrap,
a delicate toy, as light
as confetti

It didn’t seem real,
but nature will do such things
from time to time.

I looked inside:
it was glistening, hollow,
a perfect shell

except for the missing crown,
which made it possible
to look inside.

What had been there
is gone now
and lives in my heart

where, periodically,
it opens up its wings,
tearing me apart.

Pretty much sums up everything.

Whinge

Just wrote a long email to a friend, which took forever to do because I burst into tears in the middle of it.

I really loathe winter, especially this dragged-out ending of the winter we're having this month, with every fiber of my being. Well, I would, if I weren't drugged up on anti-depressants to get me through it without mayhem.


Yes, those two thoughts are connected. I hadn't realized how miserable I've been for the past month, just day after day after day of slogging through, not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to anything at home OR at work, having every bump in the road feel like Mt. Everest (or Mt. St. Helens), not crying because I am so good at distracting myself that I don't even realize how sad (and SAD) I am.

The faint silver lining of all of this is that at least I've got a reason, or a name, or whatever, for why I've felt like I'm faking my way through my days lately. Work has been especially bad: even the parts of my job that I love the most make me bone-weary; imagine how the yucky bits have been!? Plus, we are still short-staffed: six months of that is wearing on everyone at this point. At least we now have a director that isn't a time-vampire, and who has as great a sense of the absurd as the rest of the staff. YAY for that. Seriously, what a nice change!

Post-Election Bounce

Staying up till 1:30 a.m. to watch Obama's victory speech was worth it, but I'm very tired now. And today was a weird day. I try not to bring my politics to work, since I know several coworkers are not in full agreement with my view of the world (not that this surprises me, of course).  But it was kind of weird at work today. I got a strange vibe from one staunch Republican coworker who seemed almost ANGRY with me about something; I've just now put it together that she (and a few other Republican friends on Facebook) are really upset today. I'm trying to figure out if I was like that when Bush won.

I didn't feel great today. I have established beyond any reasonable doubt that I can't eat McDonald's eggs. I keep hoping that it's my imagination, but every time I drive through for breakfast I end up feeling lousy by lunchtime. Gah.

A friend's friend/coworker has been dealing with her brother's end-of-life issues, which were all resolved permanently last night. So my friend was not having a good day at work today, and she also not feeling good.

OCLC wasn't working right today either. Every time I tried to export a record, it logged me out. There were a couple of more things that it wasn't doing right either, and after a couple of hours fighting it, I gave up and faffed around the rest of the day. When I wasn't trying to decide if I should just go home since I felt lousy.

Tonight was bell choir. We've got some cool stuff coming up to play in December. And then at the end of rehearsal, the director told us that with the December performance, she'll be stepping down as director due to "personality conflicts." She was very professional and didn't name names, though at least one person jumped to conclusions very verbally. It doesn't matter, except that this really bums me out. Crap.

AND, I'm feeling under the gun because I'm going out of town this weekend, meeting Beast in San Francisco to celebrate our birthdays. I haven't packed--though this will take me about half an hour--and I can feel myself going into pre-trip freakout mode. Part of this is because I haven't been on vacation in over a year, so I'm excited, but part of it is just me doing what I do when ever I stress. At least I recognize it and have some tools to use against it, but I do not enjoy this twitchy feeling. Also: 5-hour flight? Doesn't really sound fun. Clearly, I'm over the whole TSA nightmare, and the airlines' tendency to cram-jam people into seats and charge us up the wazoo for crappy sandwiches.