Archive for April, 2008


Why do I keep putting off

what could be done now?


Longer post later

when I stop twiddling my

thumbs and get this done!


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Good things on a Monday:

  • waking up on time and catching the early train even when I didn’t have to
  • catching up with a long lost friend
  • finally sending someone something I’d promised them for 2 weeks
  • having the whole office to myself and therefore getting LOTS of work done
  • getting flowers from a friend and realizing (duh!) how lucky I am to have her in my life
  • having margaritas with my husband after work
  • getting a call from my awesome sister
  • spending the evening relaxing when i should be finishing a school project- and not feeling one tiny bit guilty…

Bad things on a Monday:


Overall, the good clearly outweighed the bad. I think Ice Cube said it best: “I got to say it was a good day.”

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So I skipped writing yesterday, but not for any deeper meaning than pure forgetfulness. I’m feeling much more calm and positive than on Wednesday; Jay and I went out to dinner Wednesday night and had a really great talk which cleared up a lot of the dark clouds. Maybe my mood was just a passing hormone storm after all. Or maybe talking things out instead of letting them fester and boil in your brain really is as helpful as they say. Huh.

Sleep deprivation may be another reason I didn’t write yesterday- this has been a busy social week for me. Yesterday was Jay’s birthday, so last night we went to our second baseball game in three days and then out for drinks. I just can’t keep up the party lifestyle like I used to- three nights out in a row has nearly killed me! I’m really looking forward to a night on the couch and early to bed tonight. Ahhhh…

Wow- I really am old, aren’t I?

In celebration of my brighter, more relaxation-oriented mood, I’m going to end this post with a list a few things that are making me smile today.

  • Today on my lunch break, I saw a man ride by on a bicycle, whistling. You almost never see people whistle in public, and it just struck me as charming. Whistling really should make a comeback- it’s so darn cheery…
  • I just learned that armadillos jump straight up in the air when they’re frightened or startled, and then start frantically digging. They can actually jump up to three or four feet, straight up! I have always loved armadillos- they’re just so oddly cute- but hearing this made me giggle out loud, and love them even more. I mean really, how funny is this:

  • The tulip trees (aka. Japanese magnolia) have started blooming. I love tulip trees- they’re one of my favorite spring/summer blooms. Look how pretty they are:

  • It’s really warm and beautiful here today, and that’s been making me feel like going to get an ice cream cone. Yummm- mint chocolate chip goodness is right around the corner! One sugar cone please, with two scoops…

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Lately I feel like I may be losing my mind. More than usual, that is. Seriously, I have started to feel (not all the time, but way more often than I’d like to) like I’m slipping into a really dark and dangerous place in my mind. And I don’t like it. Not one bit.

Looking back over the last few posts, this probably comes as something of a surprise. I sound so happy and positive and sunny. And I really am, most of the time. But lately the dark moments are very dark indeed, and that’s a little scary. I’m sure it’s all a product of all of the “work” I’m doing in therapy. I like to compare it to digging up a garden at the beginning of spring: a lot of what you uncover is dark, rich, beautiful earth, just clamoring to support new growth. But sometimes you dig up rocks. Or dead birds. Or big stinky chunks of sulfur-scented rotten. I think I’ve accidentally dug up one of those last things lately, and it’s taking a while to mash it up and break it down and work it into the rest of the good earth.

Last night I picked a fight with Jay out of no where and seemingly for no reason. Bonus- it was in front of his (and my) friends, at the end of an otherwise really fun evening. I felt immediately ridiculous and humiliated and then almost simultaneously began to pummel myself emotionally for acting like such a crazy bitch. We never go to bed mad at each other, but we did last night, because I was in no mental state to calmly talk things through. I sobbed myself to sleep and woke up feeling like a total basket case, convinced that I was driving my husband away. I’ve continued to feel that way for the bulk of today, despite the fact that Jay called me first thing this morning and told me not to beat myself up. Tomorrow is his birthday, and this is what I’m giving him for a present- 500lbs of moldy, scratchy, falling-apart personal baggage. Happy birthday darling- please don’t leave me.

I know things will get better, and that working through these feelings will ultimately make me stronger and more stable in the long run, but man it sucks to be here now. I hate feeling so vulnerable and raw and out of control. I hate that I can’t predict when I might fly off the handle. I hate that I’m throwing these super-intense feelings at Jay like javelins.

I want my mommy. But then I suspect that’s a big part of the problem.

Fun stuff, I know- sorry readers. Maybe it’s just hormones. Either way, I’ll try to be less depressing in the future. More posts about hope and pots and rubber bands, coming soon- I promise. Just as soon as I finish pounding the hell out of this big rock in the middle of my garden.

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No time to write today- running off to catch the Yankees vs. White Sox game tonight for a friend’s birthday. Who would have ever thought that I’d become a baseball fan? And all because of some silly boy? Oh well, I do love the nut, and at least he had the decency not to be a football freak. At least baseball has some history and mystique. And hotdogs- don’t forget the hotdogs.

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Not to brag, but I had a lovely weekend. On Saturday night, I sang with my former gypsy jazz band mates at an underground swing dancing night. Growing up as I did, in Richmond, Virginia, I mostly missed out on the whole swing revival movement of the early 90’s. The closest I ever got was a Squirrel Nut Zippers concert in Charlottesville some time during my first or second year of college and a lot of time spent browsing vintage clothing stores. So it was neat to see real swing dancers all decked out and doing their thing in an off-the-beaten-path converted warehouse/arts center until the wee hours of a Saturday night (we played from 10pm to 1am). That’s what I imagine the swing revival I missed must have looked like, though Jay tells me that it was actually much more mainstream (he was a college theatre major in close proximity to NYC at the time, so he- naturally- did not miss it) and not nearly as cool or underground as the event we played.

Sunday was a beautiful sunny day, and though not nearly as warm as I’d thought it would be, it was just hot enough to justify sandals and cropped pants. Jay (miraculously) had the whole day off, so we went on a good old fashioned “ramble”, setting off from our apartment at 11am with no particular destination in mind and only some eventual food and margaritas as a goal. We considered going to a Cubs game, but decided against it at the ticket window based on monetary limits. We then went to one of our favorite Mexican restaurants and sat outside on their patio, where we easily knocked our only two goals for the day off our list. Guacamole and strawberry margaritas- yummmm.

Our bellies sluggish with chips, carne asada, tilapia tacos, and tequila (sounds like a dangerous combination, but fortunately our stomaches are pros by now), we browsed some clothes and book stores, grabbed some coffee and French macaroons at a local bakery, found an awesome (and fully functional- score!) vintage Crockpot in someone’s alley discard pile, and collected about 75 rubber bands before finally arriving back home.

I’m sorry, what was that last thing? After the alley Crockpot? Yeah, you read right- I said 75 rubber bands.

Apparently, Jay has recently noticed that there are rubber bands lying around all over the city. Our little ramble certainly supported this fact, considering how many we found in a mere 2.6 mile jaunt.  They were everywhere,  just lying there on the sidewalks. Sometimes alone, sometimes in groups of two, three or four (or, in one particularly fertile patch, about 20- I stopped counting and didn’t bother to pick them all up).  Most of these rubber bands were the thick, sturdy kind, like what you would use to hold together… I don’t honestly know what you’d use them to hold together, but they looked like they’d hold it together pretty well. We hypothesized that these rubber bands were probably the littered remnants of careless mail people, and that they had most likely found their way onto the sidewalk from large stacks of catalogs and free credit card offers. Or, in the case of the skinnier, often red specimens, they had most likely originally bound together the umpteen million Pizza/Chinese/Thai/Indian restaurant menus that are regularly stuffed into the gates and doorways of urban apartment buildings.  Regardless of what there original purpose was, once Jay pointed them out, I couldn’t stop seeing them every time I looked down. On some blocks there was practically one rubber band every three feet. It was odd and funny and distracting, all at the same time. The perfect accessory for a sunny Sunday ramble. I wore the skinny red ones like rings on my fingers, while Jay covered both wrists with the thick tan versions.

So what’s the moral of this story, you ask? There isn’t one, really. But I suppose if you were really searching for meaning, it could be to live in the moment. Look around more often- look down, look up, look into lighted windows and down unfamiliar alleys (in daylight hours, of course)- and be more observant of the common objects that you pass every day without even noticing. You never know when you might discover free office supplies (or even Crockpots), just there for the taking.

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I had my annual “Performance Excellence” (don’t you just love bureaucratic lingo?) evaluation with my boss today and was relieved to discover that she is “glad to have me as a part of the office” and “loves to see my smiling face”. I don’t know why, but these sort of performance review sit-downs always make me nervous. Maybe it’s my inner anarchist bucking against the idea of being evaluated as to how well I follow “the Man’s” rules. Or maybe it’s because I’m scared that I will be told that everyone is terribly disappointed in my performance and they’ve secretly discussed firing me for months. Insecure much? Lacking in self-confidence much? Maybe that’s just because I happen to know that I spend about 75% of my work day surfing the Internet and documenting my insecurities online.

Ah well, apparently I still manage to get the job done.

Happy Friday all my fellow worker bees- may all of your performances be excellent!

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