Plans

Aaaaaaand there's the apology.

But back to the tasks at hand.

Clean something
Read something
Go to bed
Learn more tomorrow
Meet more coworkers
Help some veterans
Figure out what I'm going to cook for my friend on Friday
Find out more about tuition reimbursement from the VA.

(What, more school? Is it time for a master's degree? What?)

And now, to find dinner.

At first, when I left work today, I thought, "I don't like anyone." Not people at work, just people in general. Then I listened to one of my happy songs and sang, and admitted that it's not true. It's just that today was very busy and I'm tired and Chris is an infernal asshole. You wouldn't believe the ridiculously mean things he sent to me yesterday. I'm pretty sure he was just venting nastiness from elsewhere, because I seem to be a safe receptacle for it.

But now I don't live in that anymore. Maybe he's worse now, or maybe I'm less used to having to swallow that shit. It made me feel so bad, like I don't have a tolerance for it anymore. The good news is that now he wants to avoid me, so maybe he'll leave me in peace. I suspect he will come back again, acting like everything's fine. Tracy suggested I retain this feeling for when that happens. I wish I had a mute button for him so I could pay attention to his actions instead of his words.

I also suspect the timing. Will he pay his debt? I hope he pays something, even if he can't pay for all of it. I would feel much less manipulated and abandoned and clichéd if he did. Whenever I would point out that he has given me nothing since June, he'd call me an asshole and say that he's paying me $1000 from his tax return. Taxes were filed in March. Suddenly he wants me to go away. (I have been trying to avoid him for several weeks, so why did he write to me?)

Why couldn't it be kind?

Let's see what Ani has to say:

Virtue is relative at best
There's nothing worse than a sunset
When you're driving due west
And I'm afraid that my love
Is gonna come up short
There is no "There, there."
I guess I'm scared, 'cause
I want to have good news to report
Every time I come up for air


The worst thing would be to feel like it wasn't true, that I'm "shipwrecked in a desert," to quote another Ani song. The thing is, I know it was true. Why I need him to validate that, I don't know. Most of the time he does, but when he sends his shitty missives, I feel like it was never real and I'm just holding some crumpled up piece of ribbon- the balloon is gone- and everyone wonders why I won't just throw the damn thing in the trash. "But wait," I say. "I could still use this, make something beautiful out of it..."

Well, last weekend I threw out a lot of ribbon.

Jennyway, so the librarian is here this week from Sacramento, teaching me all kinds of wonderful library things. It's only Tuesday, and my brain is overflowing. It's a good thing I can come home and whine write for a while with the door open, enjoying the breeze and the quiet with my animals.

Somebody my age sent out a feeler today, looking to find out my relationship status. Hmmm.

Oh, and for my moment of gratitude:

I have a lot that I'm grateful for these days, but today I am especially grateful that my mailbox lock was not the one that had peanut butter smeared on it.

Like a Light

Well, I did it- I made dinner! Of course, it's already 9:00 at night and I have another half hour to wait until I can eat, but hey, I made dinner!

This felt like a long weekend. Isn't that awesome? I went to a friend's house Friday night and cackled with her for a few hours. Saturday, I did NOTHING except watch Breaking Bad all day long. I got antsy around 6 and decided to tear everything out of my storage closet and make an unholy mess in the living room. That was after I took all the piles of paper off my desk, but didn't finish sorting/recycling/filing them. My couch is still half covered, and not in neat piles because 1) it's not a desk and we've all been lying on/sitting on it and 2) I had the slider open to enjoy the breeze.

This is exactly how I have always cleaned/organized. I remember being... 10? 12? I would pull absolutely everything out of my closet and make a giant mess in my already messy room, find something interesting and get distracted for about an hour, look up and get immediately overwhelmed, then wander off in search of something to eat. This time, I kept myself on track. I steered clear of the giant plastic bin crammed full of letters and cards and everything else even mildly sentimental that normal people throw out. I resisted my inner recycler and threw out piles of cassette cases instead of deciding that they would make lovely gift card holders. I threw out Chris's old bass strings that I once thought would make strange and lovely ribbon on a birthday present. Guitar strings, maybe, but not thick, heavy bass strings, but I kept them even after I learned this the hard way. (You are not Martha Stewart. Stop it.) I found feathers and mini beads and half a clay tool set, tapes from some stranger's college lectures (What?), unfinished art projects (There's an entire bin full.), including pictures. It would be possible to do something with them, except that some are on CD, some are stuck together, and some have wandered off, leaving only their negatives behind. I mentioned them to Dad, and he invited me to bring them with me during some future visit. He said he'd sort my pictures and I could sort his, which would probably be a lot faster and more productive than sorting our own. I envy people who complete photo albums.

I had a box full of old checkbook carbons back to 2006, mysterious computer cords, spare pieces to things I haven't seen in years, on and on and on. I was vicious and threw out a disintegrating basket and shitty still life drawings. I put the good ones away in a safer place, but why on earth did I keep every half finished vase sitting on a draped cloth?

I consolidated all my office supplies. Um...

This is just some of the stickies and notepads that are not already out on my desk. I can't help myself. I just like it all so much. When I see something neat or something on clearance, or god forbid- both, I think I could surely find a use for it. I keep it ALL. Maybe I need an office supply intervention. All I know is that someone is getting a letter soon that starts with "dearfuckface."

Here's what I've got AFTER the consolidation and purge:

Notice that my pen box does not say "PENIS." Remember, apostrophes have no place in plurals, or you'll end up with a box of penis.

I think I did a nice job overall. My storage closet looks all neat and tidy and would qualify for the express lane checkout. I have pared down further. Today felt much better once I made the thrift store run. Everything kept looking like a total disaster until it suddenly didn't. Dad swore I didn't have that much here in the first place and wondered what I could possibly be getting of rid of, but I was on the warpath. I walked the dogs with Jody this morning and got a couple grocery items, but mostly I was here, cleaning up my mess from yesterday. So yeah, kicked some closet butt AND made dinner. I had better get moving. Mini is tryin g to nap on my fingers and I still need to go put some dinner into single servings for the week and work on attaining dishpan hands.

I am feeling successful, positive, organized, and flipping exhausted.

Dinner was yummy.

Over and out.