Who did I kill in a past life?

Last week my suspiciously gay neighbor asked me if I wanted to go to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert with him. I did the usual "let me check my calendar and get back to you" because I wasn't sure about it. I thought about over the holidays and agreed, thinking it would be strictly platonic. I was just trying to make a friend.

The next day, he called to ask if I wanted to come over for a glass of wine and talk about the logistics of the concert. Again, I thought it about it and agreed, again thinking it would be strictly platonic. And again, I should have known better when he called TWICE to ask what kind of wine I liked and where to find it in Publix.

When I arrived, he poured a glass of the cheapest wine that Publix carries, and in the next breath told me that he made almost six figures. I wasn't sure how to respond to that remark except to say "okay.........."

I was then regaled with a wholly inappropriate story about him mooning people at the Wal-Mart pharmacy because he'd lost weight and his pants were loose and he doesn't wear underwear on his days off. Then he proceeded to tell me REPEATEDLY that he was buying new pants to wear to the concert. STRIKE ONE.

Then, as we were sitting on the couch, and I was trying to engage in casual conversation, he kept creeping into my personal space and trying to hold my hand. Even though I pulled my hand away REPEATEDLY and told him I was feeling crowded, he continued. STRIKE TWO.

And to top it all of, he kept tapping his lips with his fingers. When I asked why he kept doing that, he said he wanted a KISS and then he TRIED TO LEAN IN AND KISS ME!! STRIKE THREE!!!

So I stood up, told him that he was making me extremely uncomfortable, and that I would not be going to the concert with him. Even worse was the fact that I was there no more than 45 minutes. If I had been paying attention, I should've known he thought it was a date when he kept saying how excited he was that I was going to the concert with him.

The next morning, I got a FIVE MINUTE voicemail from him apologizing for his behavior last night. He claimed he'd had to much to drink and had family issues and was not good at dating and how I was a great person and how bad he felt that it didn't work out between us and he never intended to hurt my feelings. Funny-- he didn't hurt my feelings, he creeped the hell out of me!!!!!! I sent a short text saying apology accepted, and got another long, drawn-out apology.

Now I'm even MORE creeped out!!! I've been leaving all of the outside lights on. Seriously, who did I kill in a past life to deserve this kind of punishment???

That wasn't so bad...

October turned out to be a slightly better month than expected. I got a birthday cake from a friend who said she wanted to make sure I smiled on my birthday, and some of my reps gave me cupcakes and a B&N gift card. I applied some of the techniques I learned in therapy during a particularly stressful week of business planning. I went to a business meeting and learned so much that my head is still spinning. My moods have stabilized too, courtesy of a psychiatric visit and an adjustment in my meds. I'm trying to think positive about the upcoming Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. I'd like to end the year on a good note.

Another Trip Around the Sun

It's that time of year again... my birthday. I used to love this time of year. Fall, cooler weather, football season, birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas. The past couple years, though, have led me to hate this season. The days are shorter. I'm not adjusting as well. It's been over a year, and I still don't feel at home here. I haven't made any friends, possibly due to the fact that I'm not a social creature by nature. It's so damn hard to put yourself out there, to open up to strangers. It's never been in my nature to expose myself to potential criticism. Too many years of being the new kid has made me seriously gun-shy. Seven months of therapy hasn't done much for me either, except break down all those wonderfully dysfunctional defenses. Lately I've felt exposed, kind of naked in front of the class without my homework. I've never been comfortable in my own skin, but lately it's worse. Therapy has put some serious chinks in my armor, which is supposed to be good so I can overcome my issues, but in the meantime, I feel too vulnerable. All I can think about is cutting, bleeding, dying, ending the pain. Is this what life is all about? All I can think about is trying to survive the next day. Is it really worth it anymore?

My Little Conehead

Poor Beau is back in a cone. Thankfully, it was not due to trauma, but still due to injury. This time it's a corneal ulcer, which is a scary way of saying somehow my dog scratched his eye. I kind of figured he had done something like that since his right eye has watery and kind of puffy for the past week or so. But when it didn't get better on its own, it was time to visit his awesome vet. Since he was there, Dr. Wonderful checked out his left eye as well. Unfortunately, he has developed cataracts. Eventually he will go blind in that eye. I'm not too upset by this news. Our family dachshund Jordi developed cataracts in both eyes and lived for several years after he had gone blind. You just have to refrain from rearranging furniture and leaving shoes and bags out. Beau is going to be fine... assuming he doesn't fall victim to some other injury... bless his little heart!

Valiant Venture Versus Vicious Vines

For the past several weeks, I've been staring down the overgrown shrubbery that surrounds my back patio. The bushes were in desperate need of trimming, and the wisteria from my neighbor's yard was beginning to seriously take over the swing. So I woke up this morning with a mission... it was time to beat back the vines.

Only 10 minutes into the campaign, the battery on the shrubber faltered. While it recharged, I attacked the vines with my clippers. It was almost overwhelming. I was dripping in sweat and had made very little progress. After 30 minutes, I pulled the shrubber off the charger to speed things along. More sweating ensued. I gave up after spending 30 minutes trimming my shrubs, and an hour tangling with the wisteria. One black bag was filled with the remnants of my shrubs. Three were filled with the vanquished vines.

Next week.... the front yard, which will be a much easier task!

Trauma

I was looking forward to a peaceful 4th of July weekend. I left work early, stopped by the library to pick up a book that I had on hold, and took my dog to the park. It was warm out, but I thought it would be nice and quiet at the dog park. There were a few other dogs and owners out. All was good until the bulldogs arrived.

Beau went to potty, and the next thing I knew he was in the center of mass of biting, snarling dogs. One of the bulldogs had a death grip on his right hindquarter. Of course, I reach in the get him out of it. What did the other dog's owner do? Nothing! Just stood there! Didn't even grab his dog to keep her from turning on another dog! The owner followed me out of the enclosure and apologized. He offered to help pay for the vet bill, which I wasn't even thinking about at the moment. All that was going through my mind was my baby was badly hurt, and I needed to get him to the vet.

Beau was shaking in terror. I was hysterically crying. There was blood and shit everywhere. Fortunately, the vet had not yet closed so I was able to rush Beau out there. The injuries were not as bad as they could have been, considering how powerful a bulldog's jaw is. He has four punctures from teeth, and smaller gashes from the claws that held him down. I didn't even notice until the vet tech pointed it out that I had a bite on my hand and another on my face.

I met the bulldog's owner yesterday to get a check for the damages. He told me that the dog that bit Beau belonged to his stepfather, who had recently died. She was elderly, half blind, and had a history of biting. That Friday was her first trip to the dog park. Excuse me???? I couldn't believe that he was irresponsible enough to take a dog with that kind of history to a dog park so she could be unleashed (literally) on other people and their dogs! The owner told me that because of the incident with Beau he was planning to euthanize the dog. I looked him square in the eye and told him that, despite what happened, I did not believe in bad dogs; I believed in bad owners. It was a horrible accident, but it was preventable.

Beau is doing well. His injuries are healing; there is almost now swelling and appears to be no infection. He's learning how to navigate with the cone he's wearing to protect the drain tubes in place at the puncture sites. The drains come out on Tuesday, and the stitches will come the following Tuesday. I have no intention of returning to the dog park anytime soon. I don't want him to fear other dogs, but I no longer feel comfortable taking him there. One bad apple has ruined our experience.

No Tipping Please

Even though Publix requests that its shoppers not tip, I would like to offer one. Baggers, please pay attention!! I organize my groceries on the conveyor belt in the order of bagging, for your convenience and because of my OCD. I group all of the dry goods; frozen foods and fresh foods go together nicely; household items deserve their own cluster; and finally heavy stuff that really doesn't need to be bagged (kitty litter, for example). Of course, I don't expect my order to survive the scanning process, but if the bagger would catch as the cashier sweeps each item, it's possible to retain some that organization.

Even without my compulsive behavior, I think that common sense would dictate that the loaf of bread should not be placed side by side with the bags of pet food. I would prefer that the sushi I'm having for dinner tonight not be tossed on the bottom, covered by the toilet paper and frozen vegetables. And finally, PLEASE do not bag my fruit with the household cleaners!

Of course, because Murphy's Law is the guiding force in my life, the bagger assisting me today apparently had no sense because my groceries were haphazardly tossed into my reusable grocery bags. My final tip of the day.... if you choose to bag my groceries so carelessly, DO NOT roll your eyes and sigh heavily as I rearrange everything with you standing right there. Because I WILL say something to you. Especially at the end of this very long week... And be very glad I didn't share my displeasure with your manager...

I Blame Tropicana...

Or is it Florida's Natural? You know those OJ commercials where everyone is sitting around the table, detailing what they're going to do to make the week difficult, and how drinking OJ is going to make it easier. Well, maybe I should've stocked up. This week has really tried my patience. And patience is NOT one of my virtues. Every single day someone has done their best to annoy me to the point of screaming. And every day, I've become a raving lunatic before lunch. Tuesday's annoyance decided to resurface first thing this morning, so I've gone off the deep end before I finished my first cup of coffee. Deep breath, happy thoughts, wine tonight....

Asphyxia

Sometimes I feel as if I can't breathe. I reach for a lifeline, but there's nothing there to hold onto. I don't know what's up, what's down. There's a faint light that offers the hope for survival. I have almost no control anymore. It would be so easy to stop fighting against the inevitable, to surrender to that sweet oblivion; yet for some unknown reason, I continue to struggle. Maybe for the faint hope that I can actually reach that fading light.

A Hallmark Moment

I try not to procrastinate, but I have lately. Mother's Day is Sunday, and I just bought her card today. Part of my recent therapy has been addressing a lot of my emotions regarding my relationship with my mother (no snickering about the stereotype here; after all, don't most women have a love/hate relationship with their mothers). Anyway-- I'm at the Hallmark store, standing at the vast display of Mother's Day cards, when a kindly saleswoman asks if she can offer any assistance. I tell her that I doubt Hallmark has something that truly fits the sentiment I'd like to offer. She persists, assuring me that she's helped others find something with just the right words. So.... I ask if she has something along the lines of "I know we aren't talking right now, but my therapist said I should make an effort, so here..."

I was correct in my assumption; although I did find a good one. The inscription "don't you wish there was a return policy? Love, me"

For the love of Beau

I love my dog... a lot. I love my dog more than I love the first pet I ever had myself. In my defense, Isis was a very aloof Persian mix; my purpose in her eyes was to provide litter and food. As she aged, I had no issues with catering to her every whim, but I wanted a more affectionate pet. I adopted Beau almost a year before Isis passed away. He is my heart; (almost) everything he does puts a smile on my face. Beau loves to snuggle and cuddle and be petted. He's calm and well-behaved and obedient. He has his flaws- he snores, freaks out during storms, and rolls in anything dead and/or smelly that he can find. I've since added another cat, Reba, to the family; and while she's a GREAT cat, and I try not to show it, Beau is kind of my favorite.

As he's aged, he's put on some weight, and I've tried to make changes to make sure that gain doesn't shorten his lifespan. I changed his kibble to Beneful Healthy Weight, which led to a very small weight loss. I cut the quantity, which did no good. I reduced, then ultimately eliminated, almost all of his treats, replacing them with carrots. Despite those changes, he didn't make great improvements. I switched his kibble from Beneful to Iams, hoping a higher quality food might make a difference. Lately, though, he's been off his food. So what do I do? I encourage him to play with his food. I started by stuffing his morning kibble in his Kong. BINGO! But...his Kong isn't large enough for an entire serving, and I'm too lazy to stuff it 3 times per meal. So what do I do? I buy a larger treat toy. What's the problem now? He took his toy (and his food) upstairs... to the bedroom... up the puppy steps into the bed... but at least he didn't take it under the covers... yet.

Could I have some cheese with my whine?

I hate being sick. I hate runny noses, stopped up noses, aches, fevers; and I especially hate nausea. I was out of town at a meeting, which was very exciting, but sooooo long. I had maybe one too many glasses of wine at dinner, but drank lots of water and took some Excedrin before bed. I survived the 9-hour work day without the typical mid-morning and mid-afternoon sugar crashes (partially because I avoided the coffee and brownies).

At the airport, my co-worker and I opted for the only non-fast-food restaurant on the concourse. We would have been better off with the fast food. My burger was undercooked, and though I tried to send it back, the waitress was nowhere to be found. The bumpy flight did nothing for my half-empty upset tummy. Even ginger ale couldn't settle it down. Add the horrific smell of stale cigarettes and body odor on the train ride, and I almost didn't make it.

Finally got home just after midnight, vomited, cleaned up, and went to bed. Woke up feeling worse than ever. So far I've gone through a whole box of tissue and two pots of herbal tea. Tonight will be topped off with a shot of Nyquil and the hope that I can go to work tomorrow because I've got soooo much that needs to be done!

Ouch

I'm the biggest clutz ever. I've walked into glass storm doors, bumped into corner of desks, hit my head, and tripped over my own two feet more times than I care to count

In the past 5 days I have....
....bruised my arm (cause unknown)
....bruised my leg (from the corner of the car door when I closed it on myself)
....cut my finger (from chopping an onion)
....and the pièce de résistance... punctured my heel with a staple....

I was scanning a document at the copier, turned to walk away, and felt this sharp pain in my heel. So I bend over, look at my foot, and find a damn staple. Let me point out that I was NOT running around the office barefoot. I was wearing a pair of low-heeled mules. I have no idea how a freakin' staple found its way from the floor (where I assume it was hiding) into my heel, but it hurt like hell! And of course, I couldn't have been alone with my pain. I was in the copy room so naturally I had an audience. My usual reaction to pain is to curse, but with co-workers present, I had to bite my tongue.

I spent the rest of the morning (because this incident had to happen early in my day) Googling staple injuries and tetanus. Thankfully, there's no sign of infection so I'm going to wuss out on getting a tetanus shot. Let's see what kind of injuries I'll sustain next week.

"I Love Me" Day

Things are still kind of rough, but I'm making a little bit of progress dealing. Therapy hasn't produced results, but then again, I haven't even scratched the surface on all of my issues. I've been going to the gym, which is also going to take time have any kind of impact. Both have given me a measure of comfort though.

Next thing on my agenda is to introduce "I Love Me" days. Note the plural. I am going to treat myself to a day of pampering once a quarter. Today was the first day of indulgence. It started with the purchase of a couple new books for my new NOOK (my Valentine's Day gift to myself), a couple of songs for my iPod, and a pretty new purse. Then I went for a pedicure and 90% of manicure (one bandaged finger was neglected; I sliced it along with an onion while fixing dinner last night). The highlight of "I Love Me" day was the best massage I've had in ages. I spent 90 minutes getting the knots worked out of various muscles.

While I don't know if I'll be able to be as extravagant for future "I Love Me" days (the IRS contributed to today's outing), I know that I will at least have a massage. I had a little of the edge taken off today, but I've got a lot of stress built up in my muscles.

Breaking News!

The Pity Train has just derailed at the intersection of Suck It Up and Move On, crashing into We All Have Problems, before coming to a complete stop at Get Over It. Reporting Live from Quit Your Bitching....

A question that sometimes drives me hazy:

Am I or are the others crazy? - Albert Einstein

Due to the stress I've been under lately, I've decided to get back into therapy. It took a month for me to actually make the appointment. Rationally, I know I need it, but emotionally I'm afraid. I didn't really commit to my last bout; this time, I'm going to dedicate myself to the process. I've got a lot of issues to work through, so it's about time I get started.

My next step in the process is to get my lazy ass back in the gym. I haven't exploded out of my pants... yet. I'm not really concerned with how I look, but I'm sure my lack of activity has a lot to do with how I feel. And it probably has a lot to do with my inability to get a good night's sleep.

Step three is cutting back on the alcohol. My new therapist pointed out the obvious- I'm depressed; alcohol is a depressant; therefore, consuming alcohol does not help the situation. I've been using alcohol to help numb the pain, but it stopped working a long time ago. I drank way too much Saturday (have an excuse- I was "celebrating") but haven't had a drink since then.

I can't exactly call them baby steps because they're kind of major, but one step at a time until I get my head on straight.

Is that a train coming?

This year has not been kind to me so far. It's almost as if the light at the end of that tunnel is the express train to hell.

The second week of January saw a snowstorm in Atlanta. I was snowbound for two days (although I did make the crackhead decision to try to go to work on the first day; when my car couldn't get out of the neighborhood, I realized I was about stupid, skidded into a parking spot, and trudged home). Those two days really put me off my game.

I dropped the ball on a project, and despite the fact that I picked it back up, I was soundly berated. In a scathing email, I was called incompetent and a condescending know-it-all. That hurt, casting a shadow on the other two major projects I was handling. And even though all of those events are done (and considered successes by most), repercussions still dog me.

The world around me feels weighted, as if clogged with the poisonous thoughts of my detractors. While I hope they are few (because I do know in my heart, I do a good job) I can't help but focus on the negativity. I haven't had a restful night's sleep so far this year; my jaw is almost always clenched; and the knots in my shoulder feel as if they'll never go away. This year is only five weeks old, and I already need a vacation.

My Anthem

Have you ever heard a song that spoke volumes about you? When I first heard this song on the radio, I burst into tears because it's who I am. And even though I've played it a hundred times, I still cry when I hear it.

Little Miss- Sugarland

Little Miss down on love,
Little Miss I give up,
Little Miss I’ll get tough, don’t you worry ’bout me anymore

Little Miss checkered dress,
Little Miss one big mess,
Little Miss I’ll take less when I always give so much more

It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,
Yeah, sometimes you gotta lose ’til you win,
It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,
It’ll be alright again, it’ll be alright again

I’m okay, It’ll be alright again, I’m okay (okay) It’ll be alright again, I’m okay

Little Miss do your best,
Little Miss never rest,
Little Miss, be my guest, I’ll make more anytime it runs out

Little Miss you’ll go far,
Little Miss hide your scars,
Little Miss who you are is so much more than you like to talk about

It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,
Yeah, sometimes you gotta lose ’til you win,
It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,
It’ll be alright again, it’ll be alright again,
I’m okay, It’ll be alright again, I’m okay (okay) It’ll be alright again, I’m okay

Hold on, hold on, you are loved, are loved

Little Miss brand new start,
Little Miss do your part,
Little Miss big ol' heart beats wide open, she’s ready now for love

It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,
Yeah, sometimes you gotta lose ’til you win,
It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,
It’ll be alright again, it’ll be alright again
I’m okay, It’ll be alright again, I’m okay (okay) It’ll be alright again, I’m okay,
It’ll be alright again

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whOEfhCF0to

It's a New Year

And I'm didn't keep any of the traditions. I didn't stay up till midnight, which means I didn't make any noise to scare away the evil spirits. I didn't kiss anyone at midnight since I'm not seeing anyone right now, and I really didn't want to kiss the dog or the cat; not to mention the fact that I wasn't even awake to do any kissing. I didn't eat black-eyed peas, or wear anything new or red, so there goes my good luck in the new year. My pantry wasn't stocked prior to New Year's Day; guess I won't be prosperous either.

I also didn't make any resolutions. I tend to make the same ones every year, but they never really stick. After all, Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. So this year, I'm stopping the insanity. No more empty promises to myself.

Instead I'm going to live my life as best I can. But does that count as a resolution? Oh well....