Saturday, February 28, 2009

Mole

*Please oh please oh please let my skin heal correctly. Please.*

Because nothing says sexy like an oozing face wound

I got cosmetic surgery on Monday.

No, it wasn’t lipo and I didn’t boost my B’s to plastic D’s.

I had a mole removed. From my face. From the area between my lip and nose on the left hand side.

I’ve literally been saving my pennies for this for years. It cost me $114.00 and I’m hoping it was worth every cent. I say hoping because the wound is…a bit bigger than the original offending item, and I’m rather worried. I’ve done years of research and I knew what to expect and I know that it will take at least a month before I really begin to see what I am going to wind up with but that isn’t stopping me from freaking the ever living heck out. Why did she take such a large portion out? Three times the size of the mole? Will any of the scar creams really work? Did I make the right decision?

I just don’t know.

No one says they ever even really notice my moles. They aren't big and hairy. They aren't masses of blackened protruding skin. They are small, petite, workable. But I see them. In every mirror. In every picture. And more are showing up yearly.

My skin is of the mole-d persuasion. Before this removal I had four, now three, prominent moles (or beauty marks as my mom calls them) on my face.I was okay with the current three because I’d had them since I was a toddler. The removed one showed up when I was 9 or 10 which makes it an unwelcome interloper. I’d promised myself for years that when I became an adult I would do something about it. And then, one day a month or two ago, I realized CRAP I am an adult now. I better do something about this.

It is fulfilling a promise to my younger self. I’ve failed in so many ways at so many other promises that I knew I had to do it. So I booked the appointment and did it. It hurt like hell, the shot made me nauseous, and since the mole was right near my nose the smell of them cauterizing the wound made me even sicker. I’ve had chunks taken out for skin cancer that weren’t as painful as this.

I’m keeping the wound moist with Vaseline (I’m allergic to antibiotic ointment) for the next two or three weeks, I can't wear a band aid to cover it because I'm also allergic to adhesive bandages, and crossing my fingers. It wasn’t even so much the mole, really, it was what it represented: I’m an adult now. It is time I started doing all those things I said I would do. Starting with a raw, painful, oozing open wound on my face. To compliment the bout of cystic acne I have errupting on my chin.

Woooooo

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Tipsy Blogging

Ah Internet.

I have been hitting the bottle.

So this is bound to be discombobulated rambling.

I don't have an eating problem, I have an emotional problem. I don't face/deal with emotions and instead I eat to cover them up. This is sorta a relief, actually, knowing that food isn't really the issue: my current inability to face issues like an adult is. I bet the majority of adults don't face emotions well and that everyone had a crutch they lean on and mine is food.

That and my self image is jacked up. I look at myself as a failure and a loser and fat. So guess what? I subconscientiously mold myself to fit that perception. Self fulfilling prophecy.

I'm getting much better at the emotion deal though, therapy and introspection helps. But when I have to face really scary things I just break down.

I didn't work out this morning.

I ate fast food twice today.

I know.

I'm scared, primarily, about the boy. My family is a mess, I'm likely losing my job this summer, I still have no savings, I'm overweight and overwhelmed and pissed that I'm this close to 30 and still a fuck up but the boy thing is what is really getting me right now.

I'm scared.

I really like this one. Or, I did, but we have our issues. For the first time in my life I started thinking in terms of "us" instead of me and what it would take to survive. I started to see a future together, wanted to see a future together, and adore(d) him. But I fear (know?) that he isn't on the same page. Whereas I am envisioning marriage and building a life together he is still in a party phase. He's so nice and wonderful to me. He really does care about me.

Just...not in that way.

I never thought I'd find someone I sincerely saw a future with. I didn't understand the idea of building a life together with someone until now. And after I've talked to him, and the therapist, I'm suddenly afraid and kinda alone again. Whereas he would probably be fine just dating for a long time further I'm looking for real commitment. I'm looking for the real deal. I'm ready to have an intimant, passionate, committed relationship with someone, him, and he...not so much.

So I'm scared. Scared because all the other issues listed above I've lived with for a long time. But losing him, us, is new to me. Losing the perception of what I thought we had. We're still together but I have so many questions. How much am I willing to sacrifice for someone who is nice to me? How scared am I to leave what is wonderful, but won't pan out, in the hopes that something else is even out there for me?

Before him I'd never been with someone nice. I feel like an abused puppy that is falling over itself the first time it is shown kindness. At the same time I feel that what we have (has) is special and I shouldn't beat myself up for falling for it.

I don't know.

I don't know.

How do you make someone love you and commit to you? You don't. This I know.

So why doesn't he love me and want to commit to me?

Why?

Monday, February 23, 2009

On Writing

I need to keep a notebook on my bed and sleep with a pen in my mouth because it always seems that I compose brilliant pieces of work when I am trying to fall asleep at night. I’ll also have to devise some sort of water proof transcription system for my shower, which is my second most brilliant composing place. My brain only wants to write my future best selling novel when it has no place, not even a receipt and some charcoal, where I can write it down. And being the temperamental artist my brain fancies itself to be, it never, never remembers what it came up with and it never, never comes up with anything when I am at a bloody place where it will be preserved for posterity. No, my brain prefers to work informally and alone and it is so stuck up it won’t replay any of its ideas twice.

This is very frustrating.

Particularly last night, when, lying very near the precipice for sleep my brain came up with some brilliant bit of work; funny, charming, in exactly my voice, yet it let the sleepy bit of my brain say “No, we’ll remember this later, you sleep now”. I wish the bit of my brain that realized what a dead end hell my job is and how much I want to actually do something with my life, even if it is just write down things I like for solely my own amusement, would step in even once in a great while and smother the sleep bit long enough for me to get some of this down. But noooo, here I am, yet again, kicking myself for letting something wonderful slip through my fingers like so much mist.

Damnit.

All I remember this morning is that it was really good. I don’t know the subject matter or the direction. I don’t have the faintest inkling of what on earth it was about. This isn’t the same thing as being drunk either; when you think you’ve come up with something fucking brilliant and upon review realize that you are an idiot. No, this really was brilliant and now it is gone forever. I’m quite distraught.

Many successful writers state that you simply must treat writing like it is a full time job, even if you’ve already got a full time job. You must plant yourself in front of paper, a typewriter or a computer, for X number of hours a day and simply write. No excuses. Act as though your very livelihood depends upon it. This sounds quite practical and is something I should probably do but it is unlikely that my most inspired stuff would ever be created in this environment.

My mind only generates truly good stuff when it is distracted or busy or desperate, like when I’m in a particularly boring class or at work, for some distraction. Two of the things I love best that I’ve ever written were both composed in math classes, one written on the back of a test I’d failed and the other written in response to a test I’d failed. My most inspired ideas happen when I’m driving or in meetings or scrubbing my bathtub. I’ve gotten a bit better at carrying notebooks and pens with me so that I can jot them down but sometimes I can’t write fast enough so I lost the prose I wish to present them in or later I go back and read the scribbles and wonder what I was even getting at.

Perhaps, for me, the best solution is two fold: sleep on a notebook with a pen in my mouth and then take those inspired ideas and work on them like a full time job. I may not find inspiration when I’ve scheduled the time specifically to write but maybe I’ll be able to interpret the inspiration scrawled in sleepy script across a notebook page and get it typed up. If nothing else I’ll have a reason to justify all the ink stains I imagine my sheets are going to accrue.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

2 Pounds Down

23 to go.

By June 1.

Good Morning Internet!

In the Great Weight Loss Journey I have embarked upon my goals are lifetime long term. I am learning how to eat in a healthy and non emotional manner. I am learning how to address my feelings as opposed to stuffing them with fast food. I am learning how to incorporate exercise into a regular routine. In short, at 27, I am learning how to live a healthy and fulfilling life that doesn't revolve around obsessing over food, not fitting into my clothes and both punishing/rewarding myself with food.

It is not easy.

I'm quite pleased to see the scale finally, after a month, budge down a couple of tiny numbers. By this point my goal system would have me down 6 pounds but I'm not freaking out...yet. I'm learning what it takes to actually lose and maintain weight for my body which is a good thing. Exercise was key in this recent weight loss so it will remain key in the upcoming months and then maintenance of a healthy body weight for my height and size.

I've started working out in the morning before work and though I can't even make it through an exercise tape entirely yet I am taking it slow to not injure myself further. Plus I'm not coordinated; it will take me weeks to even begin to get the complicated moves and steps down. Easy for beginner's my arse, half the time I'm marching in place or flailing my arms around trying to keep up with the chipper, overly tan, surgically enhanced freaks of nature squealing at me to keep going and feel the burn.

As an aside I don't understand why videos specifically marketed to women require genetically impossible women with breast implants wearing bikinis to get me motivated. Not that I want to see someone like me on film, sweating and grunting and looking overall awkward and confused, but it would be nice to see someone wearing, oh, I don't know, a TANK TOP and shorts that completely cover their ass. I also don't want to see totally ripped and cut women with biceps the size of my thighs. If my goal is lean healthy muscles why do they choose to showcase female body builders with no hips, big plastic boobies and a tan so orange Lindsay Lohan would cringe? Don't get me started on capped teeth or platinum blonde hair either, I just have to have faith that the moves I'm attempting to perform won't make me look like a roided out she-male.

In this next upcoming two week span the goal is again to lose three pounds. Actually, more like 5 would be lovely. That will put me under the next round number and into a different realm. The exercise I'm not too worried about, I just have to continue gradually and gently increasing my ability without hurting myself further. As it is my neck and shoulders and back are KILLING me today, but that I attribute more to strength rehab than anything else.

I'm better with my eating but not great. I'm identifying when I am genuinely hungry, eating when I am hungry, eating slowly and enjoying every bite, and stopping when I am full... 6 days out of 7. Because I don't yet have the skills to address my emotional eating. After a lifetime of suppressing and masking my anxiety and stress with food it is extremely hard to reprogram my coping skills. I derive a great deal of pleasure in the act of mindlessly eating, and eating alot, it is calming and soothing. I have not ever given myself another way to treat myself well; it has always been food. On this all I can do is continue to do the above and also, when I am particularly anxious and nutty, try writing out my feelings or talking them out in order to face them head on and not swallow them covered in nacho cheese.

I'm oh so tempted to go into heavy diet mode again. I want to see those numbers on the scale drop so, so bad. I'm tempted to eat nothing but salads and hard boiled eggs for the next two weeks. But that in itself is a form of emotional control, both in punishing myself with food and depriving myself of food and escaping my yucky feelings with hunger. But that doesn't work, not in the long term, and though I've managed to yo yo 10-15 pounds over the last several years the numbers never stay where I get them to. And it isn't even the numbers that I really care about; it is the tire of flab around my belly, the clothes that don't fit, the way my chin and neck are no longer two distinct and separate entities.

By Saturday March 7 I am confident that I will indeed really be down three pounds. Now I have a grasp on what it takes. I'm also living, for the first time in weight loss history for me, a normal lifestyle that I can accommodate.

Yay weight loss!

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Silver lining comes tinged with BAH

Today at work it was announced that we're taking a pay cut effective yesterday.

I can't really afford said pay cut but at least I have a job, yay!

At least I have a job until the end of June, after that there will be heavy layoffs. Even through June isn't guaranteed.

I no longer have any TV channels because of that digital change over dealy, which doesn't bother me too much, but it still sucked to come home to a TV of fuzz.

I thought by now I would have saved enough to maybe get a good TV set (mine is a twee hand me down) to avoid losing my signal in the digital transition but in light of current economic times it is best if I keep my money under my mattress.

My family is still in upheaval.

But I exercised this morning before work :)

So to recap: family is in shambles, I am making less money in a job I am likely going to lose fairly soon and I don't have Simpson's reruns to comfort me.

But I'm making progress on my two week weight loss goal. And hell, when I'm living in a cardboard box by the river in a few months just THINK of how much weight I'll lose! Dysentery and TB totally give you that sexy runway model look.

woooooo

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Stupid Freaking Idiot BAHBAHBAH

Today is my hide day yet I need an outlet and no one is answering their phone. Perhaps they are all nursing hangovers of love from yesterday and are resting? Hmmm? I was having a perfectly lovely day, staying in, napping, hiding, recouperating for the week ahead and then got the crappy news that my younger sibling had run away. Again.

Fun Fun.

I am sure they are okay and I know where they went but the weather they left in yesterday, with unreliable teenaged idiot drivers, is a hellacious mess. And the unreliable little bastard said they'd call when they got to their destination and they didn't. So it falls on me to try to track them down even though their cell phone is off.

I know said person is okay, I also know said person is a freaking idiot prone to intense whims on teenaged angst ridden stupidity which makes knowing that they are okay just that much harder. I wish I could be laid back and relaxed about this but instead I'm tense and freaking out and very, very upset. My younger sibling went to a place about a 10 hour drive from my parent's house and is probably doing things underaged people shouldn't be doing right about now and I swear to gob if they wind up getting hurt I will hit the roof.

So how is your relaxing Sunday evening? Since every single person on earth is currently unreachable and leaving me to fester in my craziness?

BAH

02/16 Edit
Got ahold of bastard at midnight last night, turns out they also stole I mean borrowed the family car to do this. They are alive but all is not well. Must...resist...urge...to eat and eat and eat myself into a coma. BAH

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Weight Loss Update - Workout When?

I read something interesting The Happiness Project on blog today: In Stop Being Bored By Your Daily Routine the writer observed that “it’s often easier for me to do something every day than it is to do somedays” and notes that if she only does something a few times a week she winds up arguing with herself when it will get done. This is exactly my problem with exercise. If I tell myself I’m going to do it four days a week I wind up pushing it back or juggling it around when really, like work or brushing my teeth, I should attempt to incorporate it into an everyday thing so that it becomes routine.

My recent two week trial, the one I failed last week, has shown me that exercise is the missing key for me right now. I struggle with my eating (if you know me you know this as well as I know that nacho cheese is delicious on everything) but I’m doing a bit better with it right now (more on that to follow in another post). I have to find a solution to incorporating exercise into my life and since nothing has worked before it is time to explore new options.

Ignoring the fact that I can’t find the motivation to exercise, that most days I am in too much pain to do it, and that my evil inner voice says things like “you’re doing it wrong”, “you aren’t going to lose weight that way” and “what is the point?” the main issue with exercise is that I haven’t incorporated it into my scheduled routine. If it is something I do every day, or on a schedule, then it will be easier for me to stick to the time and just do it already. I’ve been muddling over the exercise issue for almost a year now. How/when do I fit in regular workouts around my work, eat, sleep, bathe, see boyfriend, try to be social, see family, schedule?

I am a morning person so that would be the best time for me to fit it in but I can’t get over the mental hurdle of waking up at 4AM to do this. I’m already up at 5:30AM on weekdays for work and on alternating sleep-over nights I doubt my significant other would love it if I got out of bed even earlier. As it is I’m waking him up almost two full hours earlier than he needs to wake up which is damaging his sleep schedule. M, W, and F I have set strength rehab for two hours after work which are also the current date days with the boy, so I have to rule out running to the gym afterwards (providing that I somehow magically found the energy to do so, but we’ll ignore that for now). Tuesdays and Thursdays after work alternate other appointments: chiropractor, regular doctor, therapist, and my attempts at a social life with friend time. And I’ll be honest: Sometimes on Tuesdays and Thursdays all I look forward to is crawling home, taking a handful of muscle relaxers and passing out at 5:00 in the afternoon. I’m in pain most of the time and I can’t take muscle relaxers if I expect to function, hence, it is like a quiet restorative vacation to pass out mid afternoon in a pile of drool, even if it means my laundry stacks up and the only thing I have in my cupboards is expired alka seltzer and some questionable lentils.

Saturday or Sunday all day I have to hide. I have to do nothing. I have to lie on my couch or bed, devoid of thought or action, for many many hours. I know that this isn’t the best coping skill but it is the only way I’m able to manage my depression and social exhaustion. It is a relief, actually, to have figured this out because now I can be productive at least 5 days a week, maybe 6, whereas before I could barely function the majority of the time. I’m not kidding when I say I must do absolutely nothing: I can’t even schedule a work out or I get panicky and angry and resentful at having to do something. No cleaning, grocery shopping, blogging, socializing, nothing can be done on this day. I’ve learned through trial and error that I must curl up in a ball and sortof enter a stimulus and though free environment for a full 24 hours. Which leaves me with what, exactly? A promise to workout on Saturday, if I’m lucky?

Not good.

I’ve also toyed with pushing my work schedule back an hour so that I have that extra hour in the morning to get fit. I’m torn because I love being one of the first people in and since I’m at my mental peak in the AM I feel more productive. But really, what does it come down to? Do I spend my productive time working out in the AM because that is what is important to me or do I again try to fit in workouts after work which has been a glaring failure?

After writing this all out I think I’ll attempt pushing my schedule back to work out in the morning. I may not like being at work that late but why don’t I just try it? If I don’t like it or if it doesn’t work out I can always switch back.

Yes. I think I shall try it. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results. I keep trying to go to the gym a few times a week after work but that never happens. I need to make exercise part of my routine so that it gets done daily and I’m not arguing with myself over when to do it.

I’m going to email my boss right now. And the significant other; I hope he can sleep through me grunting and panting in the other room while he tries to get in the last two hours of his sleep.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Belated Feb 07 Weight Loss Update

Um...

Well.

Let us focus on the positive: I didn't gain any weight. That is good, right? However, the goal was very specifically to lose 3 pounds (or 1.36 stone per LaLa) in two weeks. Which didn't happen.

I didn't lose an ounce. I weigh, to the tenth of a pound, exactly what I weighed two weeks ago. And people, my double chin would argue that this is not my "ideal" weight.

I could pretend that it is muscle gain but that is entirely unlikely. I can do a whole quarter of a pushup girl style (up on my knees) now but that alone would not burn three pounds of fat and replace it with three pounds of muscle.

So.

Yeah.

Meh.

The goal stands. Three pounds in two weeks. By February 21 I WILL be down three pounds. I WILL BE. I just don't know how...

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Smells Like Budget

The daily grind of a 9-5* eventually wears on even the smallest of things. Take, for instance, the monthly budget. I find it rather disheartening to know that I’ll make exactly X number of dollars* every two weeks and there is not way that that is going up or changing. Don’t misunderstand: stability is a beautiful thing. What I am trying to say is that seeing it all on paper, the next twelve months, broken out into exact two week segments, with no wiggle room or space for change, is phenomenally depressing. I feel like a worker bee who has just been given an outside complete view of their life in the hive: Work. Gather pollen. Die.

That is my complete outside view of at least the next year (providing, of course, that I am not laid off): Work. Eat. Die. Fun, yes? Yet, structure and routine are very, very important for my ability to function. My depression is manageable when I have a semi rigid schedule to follow. If you start throwing things like staggered work time starts at me or closing grocery stores I shop at it seems that my internal leveler can’t re-balance as well or as quickly as other folks’. I crave a change of scenery yet without fail I always adjust miserably to such things.

In this, as it seems to be in all other things as well, my life is a dichotomy. I could not function in an environment where I didn’t know the amount or originator of my next paycheck yet knowing the exact amount and originator of my next paycheck depresses me in some way. It’s like I’m trapped in a box of expectation, this precise box, and all I will manage to do, no matter how poorly or well I work, is make that exact amount every two weeks, pay these exact bills, eat this exact food and go home to the only apartment I can afford.

And heaven forbid I think this! For I could lose my job tomorrow and then what?!? I don’t know if I even like stew made from boots and fish skeletons; and I can hardly adjust when my couch is moved, how will I function when I have no couch?

I have no idea how my brain and I are going to work things out over the upcoming years. It is decisively split on nearly every level, and both sides of the split are always tinged with melancholy. When I make my budget out for this month, which is precisely the same it will be next month, and precisely the same it has been for a year’s worth of months, I will be sad knowing that there will not be any extra money coming in or any wiggle room. And now it has the added edge of not knowing if I will even get to make the budget out as it is for another year’s worth of months or if I’ll be hoping my state’s unemployment fund has'nt yet run out.

Am I particularly crazy in this? Does knowing exactly what the year has in store for you, two miserable and poor weeks at a time, all laid out exactly, sorta depress you? Does it make you feel trapped? Or am I not making my point clearly?





*Even more so when I know 40 hours a week is more than most other countries, except for the crazy ones (China I am looking at you) work in professional fields.

*Which may soon be X number of dollars minus X percent in an effort on my union’s behalf to keep all our jobs.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Internet Access At Work

They’re really enforcing the Internet Use policy at my work now. It was always strongly enforced at least, it was in my department, but they’re really cracking down now. Other departments’ entire job functions seem to be keeping Zappos and Macy’s online divisions in business. I get to spend hours cleaning up computers infected from hours of web browsing and clearing out literally tens of thousands of cookies per machine as part of my job functionality and have as yet, aside from online shopping and reading gossip sites, to figure out where their job functionality is.

In light of the tough economic times and the fact that things are only going to get worse the HR department has decided to milk every last ounce of productivity they can from every employee in my division, and to ensure that that is happening they are looking at our internet hit reports. Like most businesses my internet access is linked to a user name and password. Every site I visit counts as a “hit” in the proxy. Most sites I visit count as numerous hits because of all the embedded crap. I have never visited a dating site at work in my life yet my proxy hit report has recorded, due to embedded link, that I’ve gone to some singles place several times.

The proxy hit report is fairly skewed. The original determinations for acceptable, neutral, and unacceptable were never changed from the factory settings by the folks who implemented it. That means whereas personal email is considered totally unacceptable chat sites and social networking are acceptable and neutral respectively. I don’t understand why it would be okay for me to spend all day on MySpace trolling for hotties yet checking my gmail is totally out of line.

The report isn’t an accurate representation of what each of us is actually doing on the world wide web. It only tracks hits, not time spent per page or overall time spent on the internet. My department understands this because I work in IT. Other departments, however, don’t understand that total related hits are not the same as total time spent surfing the web. The one hit someone gets for visiting a shopping site and spending 6 hours finding the perfect penny loafers actually looks better to those departments than the 100 hits I take in 10 minutes for surfing tech forums embedded with crap trying to find a solution to an issue. I never visit youtube at work (and rarely at home, actually) but I still get hits on my proxy report for it because it loads with some of the trashier tech forums.

When the reports were ran in December I was number two for hits in my division. I swore to myself I wouldn’t let that happen again. About 20% of my web visits were entirely non work related. There is no way I can justify trashy celebrity gossip sites as being mission critical, even if I say that I need to clear my mind in order to focus on tasks better by judging starlet fashion choices in my head. I knew I could do better than that so I cut out all the *bad* sites in January and was looking forward to my proxy report for the month.

Well.

I dropped my total hits by almost 3,000. Good Job? No. My hit count for the month? Moved me to FIRST place. The hell? The bloody freaking hell? I know what my co-workers are up to. There is no way I’m number one in hits, even if I do rely on Google University to help me with the majority of my work. Yet, there it is, in black and white. Even worse, I’m way, way higher than anyone else in total hits. Number two is 1,300 below me. To have made it out of the top three I would have to have 2,500 less hits. And to add insult to injury, after avoiding trash for an entire month, my unacceptable sites jumped up an additional 7%.

Hence: Arbitrary.

I shouldn’t be reading trashy gossip sites for any number of reasons period, and especially not at work. But I’m not going to stop checking some of my personal email, and I like to see my bank balance daily. I know I could totally cut these things out as well and only do them at home but they fall within acceptable time use of the internet policy, even if they are considered unacceptable by the proxy report. I also know that there is no way I’m ever going to drop out of the top three highest monthly hitters in my division because I rely on the internet for work related answers. Well, that, and I’m not spending 6 hours a day surfing the web on the secret unrecorded DSL line the, er, more seasoned folks are tapping into.

I couldn’t understand how some people could spend hours a day on WoW forums and reading Fark headlines while my two minute Netflix visits were tagging me as an internet inhaling time waster. It’s because I’m at least honest with my misuse of company resources, others have just rigged a way around it. Which: Great. There are plenty of obnoxious and crappy things I get to deal with daily and this is just another. I’m number one in internet hits on the proxy report yet in reality I’m probably number 33, and our division only has 20 people…

At my old job I was the proxy monitor and I won’t say I didn’t abuse it. Can anyone remember my old blog? And how much of that was posted directly from work? Now nothing blog related happens at my job. As a matter of fact most of what happens at my job is…job related. Go figure. In the meantime I’m trying to cut my proxy hits again for the month of February, just as a game to compete against myself. I want to see, with absolute work use only, how much of my hits will still come up as “unacceptable”. It isn’t easy, I do enjoy taking mini mind breaks during the day and just checking to see what is happening in the world but those need to stop now. I’m going to call for my bank balance daily and only visit one or two of my personal email accounts every other day.

If it ever comes down to me being counseled for my over-use of the internet it will be easy to justify the number of hits and the sites I visit. In a way, however, I wish my department would be fair before it ever came to that and crack down on the folks who are circumventing the system. But in the grand scheme of things, does it matter? It surely isn’t fair, and withdrawals from celeb gossip gave me the shakes last month, but should I waste energy on it? I guess I should be happy I have a job and focus on the positive; like evening things out. Maybe I will start letting the air out of the tires of the jackasses who are on the secret DSL all day so that they get to suffer a little everyday too. I’d like to see the HR policy on that.

Monday, February 2, 2009

I'll just...naaa

Just ranting, nothing to see here, move along. Come back in a few days when I post something substantial.

I'm tapped people. I'm tapped and I need a nap. Or Twelve. Work is a bitch right now (for those of us lucky enough to have jobs they are bad but I can't even begin to pray and hope enough for the unemployed), my apartment needs a good deep cleaning (plus whereas my holiday decorations made it down in a timely manner the boxes are still in my living room) my car is filthy both inside and out, I am in desperate need of a major shopping trip (light bulbs have burned out all over this place and all I have left to eat are uncooked lentils and, um, alka seltzer), I'm not fitting in the workouts I would like, I haven't seen my immediate family in 6 weeks and I need to go see my grandfather like yesterday. My sheets need to be changed. I need to figure out why, even though I don't leave out rotting garbage and I dump bleach in my sink drain daily my place still smells sour when I get home. I need to dust. I only managed to steam half my carpet the other weekend and I need to do the rest. My closet needs to be cleaned out. My CD player has been broken for months and since there is no way I can afford a new one I need to dismantle it and see if I can fix it, or, more likely, render it fully useless so I feel accomplished. The stuffing is coming out of the bottom of a chair I need to fix. I have filing to do. There are stacks of papers and books and odds and ends all over my desk that need attending to. I got four new to me books to read. I'm SINGLE people. I don't have pets. I don't have children. And I STILL can't keep on top of things. Plus, I was social no less that THREE times last week, not even including time with my boyfriend. At this point I don't quite know how to explain to the boyfriend that yes, I adore him, but sweet jebus, I need to hide and hide now. I think I've mentioned before that I hope he takes a week long work trip so I can have guilt free time to myself again. I have to shower, brush my teeth, do my hair, dress myself, eat, drive to work, be productive and functional like everyday. When does it stop?

blerg.