Prepositions

This is my 3rd attempt at a blog post.

All of this is garbage AND my desk is a mess AND I have no interest in cooking/cleaning/getting ready for the big shindig tomorrow night AND I was really testy with the girl AND I have nothing else to think of AND I've got a ton of stuff to do AND haven't done much of it AND I don't like being up against it when I have a party EXCEPT that's how it always seems to go.

Maybe I should just embrace this.

Secret Shame.

I like Pink's music. Also, Lady Gaga.

I know that their music will make some people's list of the worst songs of 2009, but it's fun and I like to car dance to it.

Thank You Notes.

I had the world's most miserable migraine yesterday. It's still hovering around the edges, but it's not too bad. I'm trying to keep on top of it.

I also had to deal with our car dealership's service department yesterday. Bad enough, but with a migraine? UGH.

There was one woman who worked there and she was AWESOME. Seriously. I loved her. She was smart, honest, reliable. Always a pleasure to deal with. She's gone, and the guy who is still there is a weasel. Anyway, long story short, he lied about when my car would be done, and was a complete douche about it, trying to weasel around and say things he didn't say. You know how it goes.

So I called the general manager, who I've known for a number of years, who told me he was going to rip someone a new asshole. Overkill, but whatever. The car was fixed, only 30 minutes later than I needed it. I told my sister, who was dropping me off to pick it up, that I was glad they weren't serving me food, because I know they would have spit in it. Of course, the husband said I should be sure to check my brakes.

It reminded me of when I had a Saturn. Reputed to be customer friendly. Not the shitty dealership in Farmington Hills, MI. They sucked ass and ruined someone who would have been a life customer [well, up until now, when they are shutting down].

It also reminded me to write a nice thank you note, because I know how little I make sure to thank people who go out of their way to help me. I'm trying to do this on a regular basis. It feels kind of nice.

I LOVE Scary Movies

I'm well on my way to watching tons of scary movies, which is my favorite part of the traditional Halloween season. The husband called me from work to tell me that AMC was playing a bunch of good ones like Psycho and The Shining [or as we still call it, The Shinning. Is there anything the Simpsons can't make better?].

Unfortunately, Psycho was the remake, and while I'm all about a tall svelte Vince Vaughn, there was no reason for that. And The Shinning was the original, which, while scary, is not as good as the remake. Also, Stanley Kubrick? Shitty director.

The girl has never watched a scary movie in all her almost 13 years because she used to get freaked out by the lamest/weirdest things, like a plant or the way someone laughed [in a non-scary manner] in non-scary movies, so we sheltered her from anything that had any suspense. But she's been reading some scary stuff at school and she wanted to try and watch a scary movie. So I let her watch The Shinning.

Well, let me clarify.

We caught about 20 minutes of The Shinning, which I paused on the DVR so that I could fast forward through the scary parts. Also, it wasn't from the beginning, so I kept having to pause to explain what was going on. Plus, she was trying to do her homework at the same time.

Basically, she watched Jack Nicholson drink in the bar, Scatman Crothers call the police from Florida, and Danny Torrence stand in the hallway outside the scary old lady in the bathtub room, while trying to read Keats' Ode to a Grecian Urn.

Tonight, we let her watch the first hour or so of Signs. Which is scary AND funny. But not gory. A nice mix.

We'll see if she wakes me up tonight with a bad dream.

Family Time

Today we went and got pumpkins from the barn near our house. It never ceases to amuse me that there is a barn so close to us when we live in a city. Random.

I am so glad that the girl is young enough to still want pumpkins but too old to jump around in the moonwalk thingy and want a pony ride. Good god, animals STINK.

We got a ton of pumpkins, and because the barn is only a few blocks away, we walked over and took the girl's old wagon with us. When we got back, the husband left the wagon by our back gate. My mother-in-law evidently thinks we live in the ghetto because she kept saying how we need to put the pumpkins inside the back gate because otherwise people would steal them. Here in the hood. Jesus.

Baby Steps

So today marks Day 1 of writing every day.

So far, I've written an email, but nothing on paper/laptop. In my defense, the new issue of Entertainment Weekly had a Glee cover story. I came late to that show, but it is AWESOME. So I had to read all about it. And try and find the first episodes, which I missed and seem only to be available on iTunes, which, until I have a job, I am NOT BUYING STUFF. Except for food. And . . . no. Just necessities.

Also, my inlaws are here. Well, technically they are on their way back from watching UM getting stomped by Penn State and are not physically here. But they are here emotionally and psychically. And although I haven't actually cleaned anything or done anything extra or even gone out and picked up sour cream for the baked potatoes we're having for dinner, I've emotionally and psychically had to have some just me time, because company is exhausting!

Wow. I am LAZY.

Time to write!

That Feeling Again

So chock full of ennui today, all I could manage was a couple of loads of laundry [whites still sitting in the dryer, wrinkling as I write and time continues to pass]. I had all sorts of plans and even felt happy and good when I woke up and did my yoga. But the day started to drag right around lunch time, and I've been bone tired ever since. I'll blame PMS.

Also, possibly unrelatedly, I've been listening to French music all day. Thus the ennui instead of the just plain blah.

*******
I had some raw chicken sitting in the fridge since Monday and it smelled just fine when I pulled up the plastic, but then I squeezed some lemon [in the fridge since???, but it smelled just fine, too] and when I pulled up the chicken to saute it in the pot [because I am too tired to even cook beyond that] there was goopy whitish junk under the chicken. Could it be fine? I hope so. I hate cooking.

Who Am I?

No, seriously, what the hell happened to me?

I used to be fun and have fun and not be a big old ball of stress.

My grown-up life has been one long fucking ball of misery.

But now that I think about it, so were my teens.

Huh. I was only happy during my drunk years.

I think that's a sign.

Fear

I've been pretty down lately. Really, really down. I completely lost my shit over that job posting and ended up calling a therapist I saw about 5 or 6 years ago.

I've seen her twice so far, and between her and my doctor [and the husband], everyone is clamoring for me to start taking meds to jump start my way out of this spiral.

This fucking terrifies me.

Years ago, while I was pregnant and just after I had the girl, I suffered such horrific pre- and post-partum depression that I could not function. I was a complete mess. I am seriously surprised that I made it through.

During that time, I was prescribed Wellbutrin, which kicked my ass something fierce. It made me so loopy and dissociated from reality that it made me fear taking any other kind of medication for years. Seriously. Not even regular strength Tylenol or a vitamin. The augmentin my dr. prescribed a couple of months ago for my double ear infections? That took a huge leap of faith/strength/conviction that I wouldn't die. I almost decided that the knife like pain was bearable.

Emotionally, things got better, after a long, long, long while. And things had been o.k. Up to a couple of years ago, when my life went through some upheaval and cortisol started shooting into my system non-stop. The anxiety and panic and irritability and OCD have come back, and so has the exhaustion. Not only mental, but physical. I'm just so fucking tired about all of this, and the repetition of depression. So tired that getting the laundry is like climbing Everest.

So I started up with therapy, and even bought a self-help book [for which I mocked myself something fierce]. And I got a prescription for Xanax and one for Celexa. And I even went so far as to fill them both.

And that's where I got stuck. Where I'm stuck now.

I've got these pills and I am so afraid to use them that I've spent hours poring over possible side effects [nausea! Dry mouth! Diarrhea! Suicidal thoughts!] and that makes it even worse. Like I don't even want to touch the bottles for fear of contamination.

I know something needs to change. I'm tired of being this way. But I'm too afraid to take anything because I'm afraid I'm going to have some sort of horrible side effect and I can't even deal with the possibility of that happening.

So I sit here, a few feet away from the bottles, wondering when I'll have the courage to even split one of the Celexa pills and take 1/2 and see if it might help. Might it? I don't now. Might it hurt me? I don't know that, either. But the possibility scares me so much that I'm paralyzed.

Fuck FDR and his nothing to fear but fear itself. I'm not strong enough for that.

October is AWESOME

I finally broke down and got a white board calendar for the office to keep track of what is going on for the 3 of us. This is in addition to the kitchen calendar [from Greenfield Village] and the other office calendar my mother-in-law gave my daughter. Plus my planner, the girl's planner, the husband's planner and my iPhone's calendar.

We like to keep track of stuff.

Anyway, on the whiteboard, the girl and I have been making up month names. Baracktober; Juneteenth; The Most Wonderful Time of the Year [that was September, for the start of school]; you get the idea. It's hard to do after a while. For a couple of days, this month was The Month That Came Next. Sad, really. It's now The Spooky Month. WHICH I LOVE.

Because I love horror movies. I really do. I love getting scared and worrying about whether my doors are locked and checking behind the shower curtain every time I go to the bathroom because you NEVER KNOW who might be lurking there.

Recently, the husband and I watched The Strangers and that movie seriously scared the shit out of me. I had to stop the movie a couple of times because it was so fucking creepy. People in doll masks? Always menacing. People who stand still outside your window . . . I just gave myself chills.

After watching it, the husband and I actually discussed arming ourselves. THAT'S how fucking creepy it is.

I think the best part is that there was little gore or violence, but TONS of creepiness through little actions - a lost cell phone, a doorbell ringing, that kind of thing.

I really want to watch it again. Maybe all the way through this time!

Stupid stupid stupid

I just checked two job posting sites that I evidently missed on my sporadic search.

Two jobs were listed that I would absolutely have applied for.

One of which is my dream job.

That one was recently filled.

The other has closed its application acceptance.

Right now, I cannot believe how much I fucking hate myself.

My fascination with pretend land

I'm thinking positive on the job search. I'm trying not to feel like everyone else in the universe has a job. Because I'm certainly not alone. Still sucks, though.

***********

Today, as I was watching Greek [shut up. It's a whole new kind of family on ABC. One where people booze it up and chicks run around in sexy pilgrim outfits, evidently. Pat Robertson must be shitting himself.] and ironing, I realized that I have taken to watching a LOT of tv since I finished school and suddenly have nothing to fill my days with [other than cleaning/laundry/errands/pretending to exercise/cooking/volunteer work - sweet god, I'm a housewife again! A housewife with serious debt and an ability to research on Lexis and Westlaw!]. I was talking to a friend of mine [he actually has a job] and we were talking about how sometimes [all the time] we feel out of place. And I said that I want to move to Stars Hollow. And you know what's scary? I meant it. Like it was a real place.

I need to step away from the remote and stop watching. Just as soon as stupid April shows up in Luke's life. Fucking April. She ruined Gilmore Girls. Well, truly, once Logan showed up, it started going in the shitter.

Wow. I really need to get a life.