So. It's been a while, now hasn't it? Time flies when you're drowning, coming up for air, and then drowning again. Half drowning by your own actions/inaction, and half drowning by outside forces. The end result is the same, huh. And ugh.
Spooky season is here for all intents and purposes. I've claimed it. It is time! It's hard to believe I'll be 32 in 3 weeks. And by hard I mean "easy." I feel older than I am... maybe. An old soul, but when hasn't that been true? Or am I agelessly me? Not sure if there's a right answer.
Work is a tornado. Hopefully the tornado has ended and it's time to sort through the wreckage now. "Wreckage only time." God, please let the wreckage be salvageable enough. It's scary. It's overwhelming. Blah blah. Must emerge stronger and take this as a lesson to not let malignant panic get the best of me.
Ten months without my dad. I smelled his skilled nursing facility cleaner smell on an elevator recently and recoiled. Fuck those memories and that cleaner forever. I hate them. Hate them! They will always be there, but I am making them take a back burner to the overall experience of having a father. It was 6 months out of 31. Not a huge percentage, but a traumatic and recent percentage nonetheless.
I'm still fat, full of wry humor, coping mechanisms that sometimes exhaust me, and an avalanche of books that are taking over the house I live in that is only sort of mine. I'm paying for it, so I guess I'll claim it. I don't mow the lawn, but oh well. I'm lazy about housework and my mom does a lot, I'm ashamed to say. I'm always tired. She has more energy even with Miles. I don't understand. Miles is about the same and will be forever, other than the fact that he randomly developed seizures within the last year and a half of course. Damn the special needs. That's not a "politically" correct thing to say, but it is a correct assessment. At least to me. I hope it's obvious that I love and accept my brother unconditionally but that doesn't mean it's a good situation. I've said this before and I'll say it for the rest of my life. I'd change his situation in a heartbeat, though such magical thinking is pointless.
My writing class started! I like that it makes me feel like I'm rowing towards something. It rows my boat. I'm engaged with people who have similar interests. And I'm the youngest one. It's an eclectic group. I feel feeble and self conscious offering my comments and writing pieces though. I'm a good writer, but this ain't Facebook, little lady. These are real live grown ups who are also good. It's nice that it is an all female group (just by accident). It's a creative nonfiction/memoir class. I'm definitely the shy one... so far. I missed one class. I've been to 3/4. One night I just didn't have class energy in me. I was too low. There was no room for extra world. I should have let it in and I see that now, but at least I picked it back up yesterday. Three cheers for me. Three and a half!
I'm getting tired. I got a creepy haunted doll decoration for my work space today and a ouija board sweater just to be whimsical. Something I hope I can pull off wearing the whole year.
I'm so grateful that there are people who care enough to help and support me. It's quite humbling. I'm in awe, frankly. I have to stand back and believe it's real. That I'm accepted and forgiven. That I'm not written off (or up) for making mistakes. I am a lucky, lucky, forgiven lady. Not just by God. How is this real?
Well, I need to wind down now. And clean my forward helix piercing so my ear doesn't rot, turn black, and fall off. I love my forward helix. It's unique. I was going to get my tragus pierced but went about 5 weeks ago to The Pin Cushion in Frisco and decided on that instead. I'm too afraid that the back of a tragus piercing might fall inside my ear, and then what would happen? How would I knock it out? It makes me tired just thinking about it.
Siri thought I proposed marriage to it today and it started saying something like "if you love something, set it free" and basically declined my non-proposal. So I guess this is what my love life has come to. Then again, I'm not gay or sexually attracted to phones/robots. Phobots?
I'm tired. I had fun with this though. Until next time, pretties.
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