Caterwauling

Coconuts

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

The week started off with an acceptable number on the scale, and ended with the CEO of my new company saying he wanted to schedule a meeting with me to “pick my brain” about how to make a part of the company that has some deficiencies become more efficient.

The perks of staying late after the whole rest of the world has gone home!

I’m still struggling there, but I’m getting my sea legs. I got my 60-day review and they said they’ll keep me. So, hooray! Now to really start applying myself.

I thought I’d make a new start this year and finally admit that all the promises I made to people aren’t going to come together. But that relief lasted about a minute because the fact is, people are disappointed. In me. Which is not cool by me at all.

The thing weighing most heavily on my head all week is that, sure, I’ve had friends screw me over. And when I let down a friend, unlike the assholes who fucked up my life, I take it very personally and seriously.

And maybe I’m being too harsh, but maybe I’m not, I feel like I’m no better than my ex-friend T. That is not a boat I like being in.

I don’t have any excuses. I’m tired. Burned out. Overloaded. Depressed. Anxious. Have not-very-much left to give. Can’t do a great job, and therefore can’t bear to give a subpar effort.

Whereas my life’s pain is spread out over years here (and clearly is only expanding), I have two wonderful friends who are going through absolute hell right now. All their shit is packed into a few weeks/months instead of spread out over time.

This reminds me that we all have our struggles (external and internal); whereas they have something to look forward to when this ends, my pain is such that every day has some suck to it and I don’t see coming out of it in the near or even distant future.

But, about my friends. Wow, I can’t even describe what’s happening to them right now. Some of God’s best people, I kid you not. They are making my problems look like blessings. (Which maybe they are, but that’s another blog entry for apparently another decade.)

But … yet, I envy them — rather, their teamwork.

I envy their “I ain’t going anywhere and I’ve got your back” bond when shit gets tough. They are fighting that battle side-by-side. And that helps them keep their perspective. They can take turns flipping their shit, but at the end of the day, they will have helped and loved each other through it.

When things gets tough here, things that matter to me have to give to accommodate other shit. And when I try to give myself a little room and fun time for a rest and/or a reward, that results in even more self-loathing when I return to reality.

I’m not saying a partner would solve anything in my life right now. But someone to talk to … really talk to — not this “everything’s fine/great/dandy/peachy” that I give to everyone who asks — would be amazing. Because it isn’t fine/great/dandy/peachy and I’m weary of the charade.

But admitting weakness hasn’t really gotten me far, either. It’s gotten pretty much every reaction but the one I need. Maybe if I could get out of my head, talk to someone and get some help in fixing all that’s broken (and that would be just about everything), I could be everything I ever planned on being and do everything I said I would, and more, instead of failing at every opportunity and being reminded of it even though I already know and then being crushed under its weight as I try to anticipate/handle what’s coming next.

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Cigarette palm trees

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

You see lots of trees like this on my street. They remind me of cigarettes, with the green glowing tips at the top. And it reminds me of the cigarettes I keep in my armrest, and I have just enough time to smoke one of them before I pull into my parking lot.

So, every day this week was better than the last. And every night, worse than the one before.

I had some really good interactions with my boss this week, both on the professional and on the informal levels. He’s awesome in so very many ways. And I feel like I’m not performing at my usual level (I realize I’ve only worked there SIX WEEKS), but he’s somebody I want to be in my social circle. Maybe not now, but definitely down the road as I start to figure out what the fuck I’m doing and make him look good and, therefore, trust me.

There’s someone else I’ve been hoping to impress, and we all have read about him in the last few blog entries here. And I think my master plan is working. *muahahaaa*

Actually, I’m relying a lot on faith with this one. Just, asking God to put me in the right place at the right time, to give me the right words to say (and gag me before I start to stick a lovely high heel in my mouth).

Let me tell you, God IS listening. And answering. I could not have asked for a better week on that front.

Anyway, I’m pretty certain this is what the “falling in” feels like. I don’t think I’ve ever felt it before. In fact, I can say with certainty that I am in WAY unfamiliar territory. Ergo, God’s direction here? Is more priceless than usual.

I can look in his eyes and see that this is going somewhere. And I don’t care how long it takes to unfold … this is going to be worth waiting my whole lifetime (so far) for.

The way I figure, I love having a good story to tell. I’m pretty sure I will with this one. I already have a few that I’m keeping to myself!

Now, I go from awesomeness and fabulosity and dreamlike wonder during the time I’m not at home … to gloom, despair, and agony on me. (Hee-Haw.)

I thank God for at least there being a balance, as it used to be just round-the-clock misery between bad jobs, no good men in my life and the Houseguest (yep, I’m back to that today) being such a pain in my ample ass. Balance is good. We can work with balance.

I invited my lovely Greek goddess to spend Christmas with me, and I’m looking SO forward to it. And we were all set to just figure out what to cook, oh, today. But Houseguest has been yelling at me for two weeks because there is no menu, no plan, no ANYTHING SHE CAN CONTROL WITH HER OVERBEARING OCD.

I thought I was doing her a favor, telling her NOT TO WORRY — WE GOT THIS. But my nerves are absolutely shot and she’s holding the smoking gun.

My fellow goddess and I are confounded. We figured maybe we’d just roll through the store today, see what’s left and whip up some magic. Why stress about CHRISTMAS of all days, yes? All we need are smokes, a few bottles of wine and a whole smorgasbord of cheeses … as long as we have good company, everything else is secondary.

But after a wonderful day (whereupon I got a Christmas present! From him! Do you know how long it’s been since ANYONE has given me a Christmas present? And one I like! That showed me he was thinking about me! That he’s listening to me!), I came home to the black cloud of “You’re mean! You don’t include me in anything! You don’t do anything around here! I do EVERYTHING AROUND HERE and you’re no help!”

She is lucky to be alive after that. If I weren’t floating on a WAY higher cloud, you’d be sending my Christmas card to JAIL.

In order to preserve my own peace of mind, I cried uncle. If she wanted to know what we were eating for Christmas (the source of the whole fight), she could cook it her damn self. After all, it’s ALL MY FAULT that she didn’t know what we were eating. (To feed three fucking people. And I already had a fucking Honeybaked Ham in the fridge so that we’d have protein.) ZOMG.

So finally I wasted my whole night yesterday taking her to a whole bunch of places to shop for food. Fine, I said. Buy what you want. I can’t fucking take this anymore.

Of course, now the response is, “YOU WAITED TILL TWO DAYS TILL CHRISTMAS TO TAKE ME SHOPPING AND NOW YOU’RE MAKING ME WHIP UP A 10-COURSE MEAL? YOU’RE MEAN!!!”

Aaaaand … we’re back there again.

Look, I like this guy. He likes that I’m fun and positive and upbeat and, according to him, that I’m nice. Fuck. If he only knew how “mean” I am.

On my taxes this year, I’m not even claiming her as a dependent. I’m claiming her as a co-dependent. Because once again, I let her have her way to keep the peace. I should have stood my ground and said we goddesses have this. (Which I’ve said for two weeks.) I mean, since I don’t do anything around this place, wasn’t that a step in the right direction? *simmer*

Oh well. I’m going to keep thanking God for bringing me the joy I find outside of here. He makes me happy. He really does. (I mean the guy, but God is pretty awesome too.) I can’t wait to see where this goes. I am both excited and yet patient; I want this to go right. I have NEVER felt like that before — there’s no rush at all. We got this, yo.

My eyes are on next Christmas, and my feeling is that it will be pretty amazing. If this is the “falling in” part, then I imagine I won’t want to be anywhere else once I’m fully there. …

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Too much inside my head. Too much on my plate. Too many emotions in my heart.

Well, I gotta say this. God really does deliver three times what was taken from you. In my case, all at once!

I used to rue this particular day because of a birthday I once associated with it. This year, I actually found someone who agitates me more. So the day is just another one on the calendar again.

Speaking of what comes around, I sent Karma a big fat Christmas list. That’s because yesterday, I got forwarded an e-mail via a dear friend from a no-longer-dear friend, who was pimping out work I’d done THAT I HAVE STILL NOT BEEN PAID FOR.

My dear friend had sent to me to say hey, do you understand this subject matter? Because we will pay you to work with this stuff.

I replied back, oh yeah, I WROTE THAT SHIT. And I realized how SAD it is that the only way I will get paid for it is to repurpose it for someone else.

*cue Ben Folds’ “Song for the Dumped,” particularly the “Give me my money back, I want my money back, give me my money back, you bitch!” line*

Yes, somebunny’s trying to capitalize on what has, in effect, become my volunteer work. Not that I expect to see a penny from it. But damn, some people have some nerve, eh?

Let’s chalk it up to charity work. Because that business? Is going to FAIL. I am in a position to help right now and there is NO WAY IN HELL I will do anything that will put money in that pocket EVER AGAIN.

Another body in the “dead to me” pile.

If I didn’t have such a good day yesterday before I saw that, I’m sure I would have launched a big passive-aggressive campaign that I’m sure she would have countered in 10 different ways. And to not have to hear another story, excuse or half-assed “explanation,” I’m writing off that last $2,200. That’s my charity donation for a cause that isn’t going to last. Merry Christmas.

“And don’t forget, to give me back my black T-shirt…”

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When I was wishing for a real job, I forgot about expenses like gas and makeup, aggravations like wearing pantyhose and shoes that aren’t flip-flops, and working in a building where you have a ridiculous little crush on somebody and you have absolutely no occasion to run into them and all you can do is try to figure out how to stage a meeting (like you did a few days ago, clever girl).

Yep, here we go again.

Anyway, I read a great blog entry today that stuck with me, as I come home exhausted and have to fire up the piece-of-crap computer for other endeavors. Of course, I’ve gotten my side workload down to near-nothing. Which means the pay is down the toilet too, but it leaves me more time to unwind and daydream about boys and such.

From an entry called “Every Little Thing”:

“EVERYTHING you do, no matter how unimportant it might seem to other people, should speak as a reflection of who you are and what is important to you. For me, that’s God. For you, it may be something else. The point is, if it is worth your time to do it, you should do it well, in a way that speaks to who you are. And what’s more, if you don’t have time to do it well because by the time you get there you are too sleepy to enjoy it or complete the task, what good is it?”

Too sleepy … can I get an amen?

The post is so honest — I swear, I need to be friends with the ladies who write that blog. I too hate to disappoint everyone and not avail myself. Because the opportunities will dry up and it will be because I didn’t have the time/energy to accommodate them. On the other hand, I don’t like to half-ass things, and lately I’m trying to put two half-assed efforts together to make one complete pudgy pork-roast ass. And that ain’t cuttin’ it.

I was talking to an officemate today about pay cuts, as we both took a step back both in title and compensation from our last formal gigs. But what’s also true for both of us is that we also worked from home from the past year, so what we’re doing now is a HUGE step up in comparison to that.

Funny how our brains like to let us forget sometimes where we really were. He ran his own business and told me that you’ve never truly run a company till you’ve sweated payroll. I guess I had the other side of that equation — you’ve never worked for a small company till you sweated THEM making payroll.

I’m still waiting for a check, by the way. A big one. But this holiday I give thanks for being rid of the “Va Twins” (whom I called Vajayjay and Vagina), and there ain’t no amount of money that made dealing with them worthwhile.

And while I’d never wish ill on anyone, but when that business gets thisclose to making it but it seems like there’s always something holding them back, I wonder if any of them will remember me and wonder if maybe the reason they never managed to get God’s best might have had something to do with the things they said and did to me that made me shut down and walk away.

Probably not. But I like to wonder. I mean, what else do I have to do during the 70-odd miles I spend in the car every day? Other than think about the boy, of course. …

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Having a job is lovely. And it seems like a wonderful place. Yay Goddess. It’s like the southern campus of Ye Olde Employment Establishment from D.C. — thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you, God. (I can’t say it enough!)

I would have had my “up North” interview today. I’m glad I didn’t go. Maybe I took the path of least resistance, but I also could have NOT gotten the job after the trip, nor had this one, for that matter. So, I win.

Today I had to deal with a sorta-not-really friend-type on Facebook. So I made a stupid comment about that dumb fuck Michelle Bachmann. So he thought it was “ugly” and that “I should be ashamed of myself.”

Um, fuck him.

I deleted his comment, since I really don’t give a fuck about what he thinks. So he left another comment reminding me of what he said and commanding me to either defend my comment or delete the original post.

So I deleted HIM.

Who the hell has time to go follow up on people’s pages to see what they did with your comments? Dude, I have a JOB again. Perhaps I can recommend other people getting one and not poking the penguin?

Seriously, nobody tells me to be ashamed of myself. That puts you right on the “dead to me” list right next to the person who told me that work I did (for which I haven’t been paid, BTW) was “sloppy copy.”

I do enough to beat myself up, thanks. I don’t need to hear unsolicited opinions, especially when they REITERATE them in hopes of — what? — provoking a fight? Not worth it. Another body on the pile. Zee end.

I recall a friend who got mad at me a few years ago for referring to certain Republicans as “Repugs.” Which I thought was clever. But at least my friend said, hey look, you’re smarter than an insult. You can defend your position without resorting to name-calling. Don’t stoop to their level.

I love him for that.

So who is today’s yin-yang to egg me on? Fuck him. Really. Hope he doesn’t tell his kids he’s ashamed of them. (Another damn Repug … er, yeah, fuck it. Repug.)

Anyway, job. Yay job. I still have some freelance on the side. I stay up late, wake up super-early, do the long-ass commute both ways and actually achieve some tasks while I’m out there. I rule!

I don’t know how much longer I can sustain this schedule, though. I guess some people come home and spend time with their kids or whatever. I spend it trying to make up for the jobs that are apparently never going to pay me.

I’ve lost a lot of friends in the past few weeks. More like, they lost ME. None of them will ever get it. It’s not the insults or the money or the lack thereof. It’s the lies. That’s why I’ve deleted some other folks from my circle, not for reasons THEY seem to believe. Of course, not that I feel like explaining that, either. …

And that’s why I have no patience for anyone or anything. If you’re gonna waste my time, just leave. Here, I’ll show you the door. Wait, let me get my shitkickers on first…

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