omg it's working!

i haven't had a panic since i started the sƃnɹp!

i just realized.

yay!!! that's good. i still hate my job. maybe more now that i have clearer perspective. thursday i'm sending out my resume. nope, this weekend. nope, thursday. this weekend is very full, what with dance shows and hot tubs and jewelry buying. and wine.

Thursday it is.

(oh in other news, the 15-20 years i spent in pursuit of being "fun" are a success, says a friend who knows. now to move on to the next project- being a stable, effective human. see ya in a decade!)

sƃnɹp uo ɯ,ı

i dropped a quick email to her and my regular doc sent a Rx to the pharmacy on tuesday. wow. i picked it up sat and am operating on day 2 of medification.

i'm happy.

i was mean to the first person at work today, but i also freaked myself out with smiliness at & on the way to yoga.

and i stopped before i hurt myself in yoga, too.

i ate a brownie before i went to bed last night (that's bad for you. and it has uppers in it), and i slept the whole night through.

argggghhh big pharma

"the most awesomest white girl I know"

how come all the brown boys have to qualify my cool with "white"?

pretty sure that was a miscarriage

my fertility is really freaking me out.

i thought maybe i was reorienting to the moon.

i thought maybe something was off...i did the right thing, though, with the ring and all, and so i shouldn't feel like it's my fault. right? but i do. i fucked up my babymaker with my ingratitude. and now it seems to be revolting.

i'm watching h4rold & kum4r to distract myself.

the therapist was stupid. i'm going to k4iser for drugs.

i'm going to therapy today

(i'll just let that soak in. when the roaring crowd settles down, i'll be back with more.)

dream

hilary. tired, in a chambray, a-line skirt and some practical shoes. with a baby. she was the me i didn't choose. she was tired, haggard, alone, i'm pretty sure the art was gone. or maybe it wasn't. that wasn't important- what WAS inportant was that she was alone. and tired. so there's a part of me that is glad we did it the way we did.

damn that internet

i'm so suggestible. I go to read a career blog, get back on track at work this morning, and now i'm fantasizing about all the gardening and volunteer work i'd do as a housewife.

jeez. that's just what i need. *More* negative incentives to do my job well.

before that happened, and now that i'm thinking about it again, i'm grateful for the good good friends around me. i'm grateful that i'm allowed to spend a whole day in my pajamas feeling bad for myself, and the next day in a sundress and heels, talking about whatever's real to you amazing peoples. so so so grateful.

i hate today

but not today exclusively. i hate lots of things.

because my brain is broken. i need to take it in for some serious repairs.

Steve used to needle my head for the arthritis. i think he knew.

. . .

he left on friday morning "see you when i get back" (per our previous conversation requiring us to be friends and normal upon his return).

he flew sat morning (i slept in and then went and played with dogs)

texted me sunday. (ignored)

chatted me monday. (delayed, cursory response followed by chat block)

emailed me monday. (ignored)

i called monday night, high on a glass of wine and the possibility of my future, to claim my space assertively:

"i want more than you want to give me. as long as you're not going to give it to me, I need you to GO AWAY."

"ok. since we're on the phone, wanna talk?" (he was at a bar. what?)

No.

he called back twenty minutes later. thankfully, i missed the call.

my farm has a youtube channel

i'm working from home today, because i can, and am taking this opportunity to catch up on all of the internet that's firewall-ed at the office.

so i 'm watching videos of the baby chicks and the grown up chickens who lay the delicious eggs i ate for breakfast. i love my farm. i love that they grow herbs just because they smell good, that they seem to be friends with every farm around, that the farmer somehow ended up farming in israel and then dixon, california, even though he's british (and is named nigel)...and that his two kids (who i just learned are in a spanish language immersion school, which is just awesome because you know that helps with connecting to the farmworkers) truck a laptop around the fields and that little kids send in money to help the farm buy horses because let's face it, with oil prices and the global economy as they are, horses seem like a damn smart investment for a farm.

Check it out: http://www.youtube.com/eatwellfarmcsa. Join! Yum!

nothing perks up the cube monkeys

nothing, that is, quite like hearing the words "this is an awkward conversation" through the cubicle wall. eeeeehhh

or maybe not

maybe it's time for me to grow up and f*ing make the relationships I already have work. quit moving on to the next. do the work. get uncomfortable, and come through with history.