Caterwauling

I just realized that the skirt I threw on this morning was a size smaller than I thought it was.

That’s not a bad thing … it FIT. And fit well.

Damn I have cute clothes in the next size down …

I was standing next to a grandfatherly guy at Tarzhay today when his phone rang.

He exclaimed joyfully, hung up, turned to his friend and said, “We have to GO! Her water broke! We’re gonna have a BABY!”

I burst into tears and wandered away.

Happy tears, for the baby, to have that guy for a grandpa.

Happy tears, for his daughter, to have probably everything she ever wanted.

And maybe a bitter tear in there, for good measure, that the only joyful life events I am ever a part of are the ones I overhear or otherwise witness from afar.

I tried not to wonder when something wonderful is going to happen for me, too, or whether I’m destined to just be happy for everyone else for the rest of my life.

People get cars and vacations and cash yet I can’t even get my vacation days that I earned rolled over.

Since giving special people special dispensation is absolutely against policy, I decided I’m going to give “average” a shot.

And an hour into the day, I’m ready to go throw a stapler at someone.

I’ve been bugging one department to fix something or explain to me why Outcome D is only true for Player B and how we can get Outcome C for ALL players across the board.

I’ve gotten some movement but more silence than anything.

So today I ask, where are we with the process?

I get a “this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

DO I NEED TO PRODUCE LAST WEEK’S 15-INSTALLMENT E-MAIL CHAIN?

Then there’s an “well I was fixing (some other unrelated issue)” that I’ve never requested. It WAS an issue, yes, but I never opened my trap because then I won’t get the important stuff fixed.

America’s corporations killed America’s exceptionalism. And there’s a whole new generation of ideas dying a thousand deaths as I pound the keyboard with all my might to produce this blog entry instead of doing something that will bring in revenue instead.

You know what’s stuck in my craw today? (And since 2006, really.) How employers allow folks to claim their spouses and kids on their insurance but I can’t claim my parent.

I have no plans to marry. Hopes, but not plans. And certainly no desire to have kids without said mythical partner. But if we can support all those people — people those workers rush out every day at 4:57 p.m. To see — why can’t my momma have a shot at survival when I give till it hurts us both?

I’m not looking to get myself disciplined or fired. I just think that if we are as a society increasingly covering life partners, well, what about mine?

Writer’s block is manifesting in my world as “Editor’s Block.” Which is really shorthand for “DON’T WANNA!”

The Mai-Tai crowd is looking for things from me, which they could very well help with if they didn’t believe with all their hearts that the building burns down after 5 p.m.

And I’ve got a list of things I need from the Mai-Tai crowd. Which I would appreciate them doing before my customers light me ablaze. Alas, their priorities are set by a different arm, one that seems to backhand our requests to the bottom of the pile.

Alas, speaking of “Don’t Wanna,” I don’t want anymore shooters in my beloved adopted city. And yet …

Send some prayers for the police officers who were shot just a few minutes ago at Constitution Avenue and Second, will ya? Everyone should realize that THEY ARE WORKING UNPAID RIGHT NOW.

And furthermore, those are MY streets, motherfucker. I drove them often. They belong to US, you moron. Don’t wipe your ass on them. I’m glad you’re in custody and I hope they Tase your nuts every 10 minutes.

Is it wrong that I blame Allen West? I kind of blame him for everything. And I totally wrote to his welcomed replacement to thank God I don’t have to be ashamed for Florida because I know I don’t have a Tea-bagger representing me and BOY am I proud.

So, I saw daylight three nights this week. Sure, the sun doesn’t set till 8:30 p.m. but still. Don’t ruin it for me. 🙂

Actually I left reasonably on time yesterday and today. My Daily Albatross was done and put to bed before 5 today and before 3 yesterday. I wouldn’t say I have had my best days at work ever (those would be when my cute male friend still worked there and we spent every lunch hour together … and then I’d leave work at a reasonable time and go volunteer every night), but they’ve been the best this year.

They could get even better if I could make it to a doctor’s appointment or get mom to some sort of person who could find us healthcare for her. But you know. One year at a time.

So I have very good offers for vacations this year:

1. California
2. D.C.
3. Pittsburgh
4. Europe
5. New York (again and yes, please!)

I have three weeks of vacation to burn. After I lost 40 hours last year, I know I will never get paid for them.

But there’s no one to do my work. So anywhere I go, the work comes with me. And you’ve never met someone so adamant about “It is not my fucking problem for five goddamned days” than me.

As it looks, I either lose all those hours or lose big opportunities to go from flamed-out to just a little burned-out. You could toast marshmallows over my ass without even striking a match, that’s how through I am.

So, sure, I should have probably stayed later than I did this week. But they get my heart during the normal hours more when I can have evenings to myself.

Don’t worry, I won’t get used to this.

The thing about all my vacation opportunities is that I would only have to pay to get myself there. And if there’s one thing in life I have NEVER regretted, it’s boogie-ing out of town and seeing a bit more of the world.

Of course, my “hotel” money goes straight to mom — so she can eat and buy all the shit I normally have to buy for the house. So I get screwed there. But to get out of town? HERE IS A BLANK CHECK. And yes, I know I have to deposit that check because she can’t, but still. WORTH IT.

I think a lot about the job that let me go with no warning, other than being treated like shit by people who aren’t qualified to hold my toilet paper or wipe my ass. (A recurring theme if I stop to think about it.) I took my vacation time, went to happy hours with my good friend and basically played as hard as I worked. I loved that.

I just wish one could work hard and feel secure in their vocation. It’s impossible. I don’t even think it’s the economy (stupid) — I think it’s the people who are conditioned to let you work yourself into your own grave and they’ll just find someone else to do whatever you did. And while they will appreciate the nuances you brought to it, they tend to find they can easily live without it.

Of course, I’m feeling good today. Talked with an old friend in the field very briefly. Haven’t seen him in three years, but I thought of him out of the blue and I was thrilled that he remembers me fondly.

It’s good to have exchanges like those, that validate that you are something special indeed and fuck everybody who forgets it from time to time — even if that “everybody” includes you, yourself sometimes.

Thanks, friend. Thank you, God and Universe, for such a good day. I can honestly say, if someone asks how I am, “I’m blessed and highly favored.” For today, anyway, but I’ll take it as I type on my laptop on my waterfront balcony. All good in the ‘hood, and I cherish every second of it.

“Fourteen today and you went dancing
Music mixed with laughter and boys can be so immature
They made you drink a bit too much
Everything’s a blur to feel and touch
Did he really like you? Well, how can you be sure enough?

Twenty-three today and all your friends are gettin’ married
You say, they’re so scared of bein’ alone
So self-righteously you march through teachers’ college
Still so much in life you gotta get to know
Seems like everybody’s so content to move so slow

And when you think, you’ve got your life so well-controlled
It slips away
And the years, like raindrops falling from your life
Are washed away, washed away

And you’re so brilliant, you’re so gifted
So sensitive, so strong
As you hide behind your barricade of words
But no one got close enough to you to have ever heard

I met you at a party
You were drunk and full of world advice and I was gettin’ nervous
And you said, you had a child who was a genius
Then you smiled as the living room transformed into your circus

Someone whispered you were 39 today, a face so young, eyes so old
You collapsed into the corner, like some body of raw nerves
You near seduced me with your verbs as I reached out for you
You said over and over

Oh, when you think, you’ve got your life so well-controlled
It slips away
And the years, like raindrops falling from your life
Are washed away, washed away

And you’re so brilliant, you’re so gifted
So tragic and so wrong
As you hide behind your barricade of words
But you know, no one got close enough to you to have ever heard

Children come home from school
Shout and laugh with all their life
Shut them out fast before you think of the past
Turn out all of your lights

Go to bed, go to sleep, don’t think, don’t feel
As the nighttime owns a prayer
But maybe somewhere deep inside
There’s some meaning, aching to be shared

Fourteen today and you were dancing.”

— Dan Hill, “14 Today”

You know what’s worse than my usual 40-minute commute? It taking 40 minutes to travel seven miles because the roads are flooded and the highway’s a parking lot.

Despite the wondrous start to today, I achieved a huge victory. Got the Daily Albatross Project done at 4:45 p.m. I usually don’t push the live button on that hot mess till around 8 p.m.

Yesterday morning, one of my neighbors said, “See you in 14 hours!” during our a.m. elevator ride. He’s right you know. 12-ish hours at the office and 1-ish hours on each end of it to commute, and no one ever sees me. I hadn’t realized anyone noticed.

Got home during the 7 p.m. hour tonight. Another neighbor said, “I never see you at this hour!”

Got home late last night. What I hate is that the asshole who parks facing me is always coming home at the same time … him from the bar, me from the office. And he may not be an asshole, but he’s inebriated and happy and I’m not.

Read a great article today. Well, I can’t remember the last time I read a great article, but it qualifies when I find a piece of myself in it.

“I never felt plagued and I never longed for balance. What I was doing just felt right, and I knew this level of focus and absorption was temporary.” — Inside the Stiletto Network

I long for balance. And this made it dawn on me that you really don’t need balance when you’re overjoyed with one or more areas of your life. When you’re instead ENDURING one or more areas (or all), you need balance … even if it’s like I have, moving from one glorious adventure to the next.

Oh well. Better than being in Oklahoma City, right? Albatross Project got out on time, shitty car/tires/brakes didn’t give way and the engine didn’t flood during the rain, and I’m busy working toward dreams (even if they aren’t mine, since I don’t have any right now). The blessings are bigger than the bullshit. And if that isn’t a prayer, to ensure that this state continues, then I don’t know what is.

Gemini horoscope:

Today, Goddess, you will ask yourself if, by controlling your emotions so tightly, you are missing out on interesting experiences, or if your defenses are high for a good reason.

I’m going to go with the latter.

I have been thinking about some people I’ve met in my life, from near and far and from long ago and a little more recently.

And how they change.

I don’t know if people just get more comfortable and show you who they really are. Or if they gain a little bit of recognition or power or backbone or what, and then suddenly they realize they CAN crush you so they might as well.

Especially if you’re, as one told me, so sweet and trusting and innocent. One thought me naive for having hope in the human race. Believe me, that’s all but gone. But I’m willing to be surprised.

That same person identified all my “weak” points (their words, not mine) and attacked them all repeatedly. I see the same happening from time to time and I wish people didn’t all go to the same school of “let’s just drive her to the insane asylum, shall we?” I’m not going to give anyone the gift of reaction, so go find someone else to pick on, please.

Then there are the people I know who are fire-happy. Like, insatiably so. And who doesn’t worry about being able to support yourself/your family? Especially in this economy?

Lower jobless claims my ass — look at your region and your field and you tell me if there’s reason for hope. There ain’t. Moving on …

You’d think they’d fire someone and satiate the need, but no. They need more. No one can ever feel safe if one of their colleagues gets the boot because it could be the start of a housecleaning mission.

And no matter how indispensable you’ve made yourself, you’re not immune. You’re never immune.

Joel Osteen talks a good game that God is the only one in control of your destiny. Tell that to your landlord after you’ve had to miss a payment because, even though you were a model employee, you got in the way of a power trip in progress.

I guess what I’m really getting at is how many times I knew someone — really knew them — and at some point the “before” version went away and someone else’s eyes and heart somehow took over. You want to think your old friend, confidante or colleague (in my case, usually all three are rolled into one) is the same person on the inside … that you can appeal to the person you used to know … but you come to find that they’re gone and someone else has taken their place.

And all bets are off.

Again, not aiming this anywhere. We’ve all had a romantic or professional or familial relationship go bad. I’m just saying that sometimes, you can actually pinpoint the exact moment that things are about to change. And there’s nothing that can make you feel more-powerless than seeing the butterfly curl up into a cocoon.

And usually, there’s nothing much more you can do but prepare for the worst or just step out of the way before they run you off and start hanging around people who didn’t know the softer, sweeter, better sides of themselves … or those who knew it but are also complicit in forgetting its existence.

I’m sorry. I still remember all the good things and I’ll be damned if my last memory of people is the one they leave me with.