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Quick- crack a beer so you won't go out for dinner!

Whew... that was close. There were a couple of Red Robin gift certificates as prizes, and I sat there at dinnertime, not winning one, thinking, "Mmmm, Red Robin..." Well, crisis averted. I am heating up some turkey meatballs in spaghetti sauce for my garlic bread meatball sub. Whatever, it's less carbs than having pasta and bread. And by the way, Red Robin, who the hell thought a "bottomless basket of fries" was a good idea? But oh man, there is little I love more than going out to dinner.

I didn't win a damn thing, and neither did anyone at my table. Of course, we were rationing our bingo cards. The winners tended to have piles of used cards (and prizes) on their tables. What they paid in donations may very well have negated the worth of what they won, with the exception of the blackout bingo prizes. As Tee put it, the games got very tense towards the end. I put two cards on a flat screen TV and let her daughter mark one for me. Tee and her husband were kind hawks, making sure none of my numbers were missed. It was a fun kind of tension, and I think next year I will recruit some friends and involve alcohol and dinner.

So yes, I went to bingo. It was a fundraiser, if I haven't told you, for the Feline Rescue of Northern Nevada. That was my social activity for the weekend. I declined other offers (Hey! I had other offers!) and limited myself to one, because I was so tired from this last week. I am consoling myself with the idea that I have evenings open all week, so hopefully I will have the energy to do something besides lie on the couch watching Breaking Bad. (I cannot believe he just let Jane DIE! Ugh!)

I got my apartment half cleaned, so that's something, huh? Got my laundry done and... well, I think that's about it, but we are no longer working on perfection over here. We're in a "Whatever Works" phase- emphasis on the whatever. Today I went searching for a dog bowl and a birdfeeder, and found a fake key with a little knife tucked inside. This is where it shows up in the story and you forget about it until later on when it conveniently shows up and saves the day. It may seem irrelevant now, but I hate it when writers wait until they need it to explain how they got it, so I'm telling you now because it's sure to show up again at some point when I'm stuck in some dire situation. I don't want it to seem like I only came up with it then- I want you to believe that I knew where I was going from the start.

It's been a mellow Sunday. Earlier, someone called them Melancholy Sundays, and that feels appropriate. They often seem bittersweet with the "Dammit, tomorrow's Monday..." It's as if it's not worth having any fun at all. I spend my time these days feeling lonely, but right now I feel like it's an ok kind of lonely, like it'll be less lonely soon and I should just enjoy the time I have to myself.

Did I tell you that I lost four volunteers last week? Only one was an actual blaming me situation, and that one didn't really have that much to do with me, I think. The rest were just coincidental, but someone is going to be upset when she returns from vacation. I had my panicked/feeling horrible moments, and have moved forward from that, but I will need to remember that she will likely be quite alarmed to hear the news. Other than that, things at work will be fine. It feels so big- so much to do, so much to learn, so much to track, so much to promote and manage, but I am keeping my myself optimistic and pleased that I have such gentle chaos that keeps my work days flying by. That's much better than my daily countdown with my coworker: "Only 7 hours and 24 minutes to go!"

On a brighter note, I got flirted with... by someone my age! That is a feat, considering that I normally attract old guys. He was tall and kind of cute, although I could barely see him over the glare from his wedding ring. Boooooo. Gross, dude.

Due to stupid fucking circumstances and me being so quick to wear responsibilities that aren't really mine, I have Jasmine with me and may keep her indefinitely. Some of you will applaud that; some of you will think I'm insane. For now, it's fine. I took her to my trainer for an assessment, and I'm putting her in a class at the end of April. I'm looking forward to that. Since she's already well-trained in obedience (Picture me looking proud), the purpose for the class is to get her (me) better trained in approaching other dogs. My trainer talked extensively about how visible it is that Jasmine is not interested in actually eating other dogs, she is just completely unskilled in her approach. She explained how we would improve that: mainly by building my confidence. She giggled as she pointed out that I was trying to talk myself into it, saying things like "I think this will be good." and "I think we can do this." My goal is lofty: to have people change their minds about Pit Bulls when they see mine. I'm already proud of the training I've done with her and how I have taken care of her, but I want that whole package. I've got some good dogs here. Maybe things will change and she will go live with either one of her true owners, but if I am not going to allow constant upheaval in her world- especially if I suspect she is just going to end up coming back to me.

I have not heard a lot about Ant. I see occasional pictures on Facebook, but most people in the family seem to feel like he will flourish once he sees that he is surrounded by family, love, and stability. The way things are right now, it seems like he is in the best place- down in L.A., living with his uncle's family. I could not have taken him- I don't have that local circle or an equally invested significant other, and it would mean constant interaction with Chris, which even I agree is not the best plan for me. Instead, I can take care of Jasmine. She may be Ant's dog, but his current family unit has their hands full, as does Topaz. There are a lot of things in Ant's world that have not been ideal, but it's poised to get better for him. In the meantime, if there's one thing he knows he can count on, it's that Jasmine will be well taken care of with me.

Hoooooooooooold On (Thank you, Big Star)

It's been a... week. I'm so tired. But tonight, I made some chicken, cleaned up a bit, and now I'm enjoying my warm, cozy apartment surrounded by my animals and listening to music. I've been playing it all alphabetically on iTunes so I can chuck the shitty songs and sort the ones I like into playlists without getting burned out on one artist at a time. What I'm finding is that I really like my taste in music. I mean- duh, but I am happy with what a range there is and how well it all seems to go together in this weird, wonderful juxtaposition. I feel like I could play my music exactly this- the whole thing- if I ever had a party. Not that I've ever hosted a party. Not that I am planning one. Not that my neighbors would appreciate it. But if I ever did- perhaps a house warming in the small, neat, plant, animal, and thrift store treasure filled house I will someday have- I could play my crazy music and it would actually fit quite nicely- not by carefully crafting a playlist, but by pressing play. That's a nice metaphor.

I'm getting some nice messages that things are ok. I have actively invited Chris to leave me alone for a while and I'm slowly crossing things off my list at work. I have to be diplomatic and capable, and I seem to be. I declined an invitation for this weekend, but I already have one social event planned and I need some rest. I apparently injured my knee and now my kneecap is popping in and out all day, which is painful and wakes me up every time I move. One more day, and I can prop it up and watch movies. Breakfast and lunch are packed, Riley needs to be brushed, and bed is calling. And ibuprofen. Ibuprofen is calling.

Soiled Again

I'm out with Jasmine when my neighbor asks about Jasmine's Halti collar. I'm answering his questions and we're discussing the problems he's having with his dog as Jasmine's sniffing around and has this giant, messy poop. I've already dropped my key on the ground and am juggling her and the key and the poop is unwieldy and I'm still talking and telling him about the training over at PetSmart and suddenly he's losing interest fast. I'm chalking that up to the fact that he hasn't gotten any training for his puppy yet, sarcastically thinking why start now when his dog is just over a year old and dragging his son around. Maybe they can't afford it or whatever, but their dog desperately needs training and exercise, but I'm trying to give just the slightest of nudges because I want something positive to come from this conversation and help that dog get what he needs, not try to solve the problem solely by creating another Hannibal Lecter lookalike in the neighborhood. So he takes off and I'm walking with Jasmine in the freezing cold (It finally snowed today.) and I'm thinking about this morning when another neighbor had her goddamned puppy loose in the courtyard while she stood at the top of the stairs. This dog is COMPLETELY untrained- the one who latches his sharp little puppy teeth on the first article of clothing in sight, only now he's almost Jasmine's size. Once again, this woman has to come down and collect her dog without a word of apology. At least the neighbor I was talking to keeps his untrained puppy monster on a leash and is looking for ways to address what he knows is a problem, unlike Ms. Has No Idea What She's Doing.

So I'm all distracted, thinking about this, and on the way back home I happen to look down and realize that I am wearing streaks of Jasmine's unhappy poo. I understand why he had a sudden lack of interest in our conversation, because I started out as Knowledgeable Dog Owner and (literally) painted myself into Crazy Dog Lady who doesn't even notice that she's wearing dog shit. (Well hey, it's COLD outside. If it was July, I might have noticed sooner.) I'm immediately outraged that he didn't tell me, and intend to comment on the diarhhlemma the next time I see him so that he'll know that he doesn't have to avoid me because I am normally coordinated enough not to smear poop on myself. I'd like to think I would be kind enough to point this sort of thing out to someone, but who knows- I might be stunned into blinking a lot with raised eyebrows and waiting for my first opportunity to escape and cackle to myself.

Sigh.

Love these girls...

It is SUPER windy outside, and I just came home to find Riley curled up on my bed with Jasmine. They moved apart a little because Jasmine has a camera phone phobia now, but this is the weirdest thing because Riley rarely jumps up here anymore unless she's on a cookie search. Riley is not fond of storms, and would normally hide in her kennel, so I think perhaps she sought refuge with her big little sister. Now I just want to cuddle them all day.

Two Beer Blog

Ok, so that was a one beer blog, now let's try a two beer blog.

Occasionally, the sadness hits again and there isn't much to do but ride that through. I wish I had nicer things to report on that front.

But here's the thing: I am always going to have those feelings.

I share this because it's better to get it out, and this is how I do that.


But let me tell you how my first full week at my new job went.

I am seriously exhausted. I have so much to do, and it's nice. The former library guy retired in December, and a few people have been manning the PERC while still doing their real jobs, so they have been stressed and no one's really sure how personnel is structured, where the lines are, and who reports where. The retiree lost enthusiasm after he didn't get a job he wanted, and that was a long time ago, so all sorts of short-sighted behavior has gone on for way too long. Everyone was hoping for the new Library Tech to liven up the place with enthusiasm. One of the nurses who teaches the New Patient Orientation class ran up and hugged me when she learned there was finally a new PERC person. All the people involved have been very welcoming and encouraging. I'm going to need to wear walking shoes every day and put my feet up every night. I am going to need to hone my organization skills and wean myself down to one calendar. I will have to practice leaving work at work- today I had to actively unfurrow my brow on the way home. A colleague has been cleaning out the PERC office, but there is still so much stuff left from this guy... I found an empty VA frame meant to hold Polaroid pictures. Polaroids! Oh, and spoons. Unwashed, left over from random lunches. Scattered throughout the drawers. And oh god, the drawers. I have a lot of projects going- one of which is to clean all that out, but people are sending scheduling requests and there are work orders and permissions and accounts and phone calls and people stopping by to get help or provide help or say hi and it will be a while before I am really settled in. Today, one of the work studies finished the drawers for me and I'm still doing a happy dance. He threw out things that my inner recycler/thrift donator did not have time for, consolidated the 45 boxes of Kleenex and toner cartridges and My HealtheVet pamphlets and red permanent markers and Happy Birthday supplies and everything else that guy was hoarding for 11+ years and made sense of it. The difference that makes is phenomenal, and when I see him next week, I will tell him that again. I unburied over half my desk today and crossed several items off my to-do list. I also got the ok to attend the Volunteer Appreciation Ceremony, and I am very happy about that, as those people are actively helpful and knowledgeable and awesome. There are some pre-existing issues and anticipation of power struggles among the various departments involved, and I am going to need a sturdy diplomatic hat, but I think we are headed in a constructive direction. I have been learning about the problems over the week, but today I had very encouraging conversations with all three parties. I've got a strategy. I never thought I would say that about anything.

It's minor chaos in there, but minor chaos is fun. There is a lot of responsibility, but nothing so serious as performing a tracheotomy or doing a senator's taxes. I can help people in a variety of ways, and even with such a mix of schedules and departments, I feel like there is already a team in place and no one really recognizes that. Yet.

My therapist said today that I am going to do well as a diplomat in this job because I am not reactive. I was like, "Wait, have you met me?" but she pointed out that I take time to ruminate and after much contemplation, I realized that she was right. (Ha ha ha ha ha ha... ahhhhhh. Jennyway.)

It's fun. I like juggling. It's a nice change of pace from having to do one thing over and over and over. Even once I get settled, there will be so much to learn and track and manage that I think I will be busy for a long time. And also today, I talked with the person who manages volunteers. We talked a lot about the creation of the current situation and possible changes, but she assured me that manpower is not in short supply. She said she can get me all the people I need. When do you ever hear that?

It's good. Today, my boss was explaining that we had to go over my position description in case I was utterly horrified for some reason and wanted to decline the job. I asked her if that would mean going back to the Call Center. "I suppose," she said, then cracked up when she saw my expression. "I'll stick it out here," I replied with a grin.

Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

"What exactly are the issues with Chris needing to be addressed?"

I wish I could tell you, desperate stalker girl sending me messages on Facebook. That's what he told her he was doing with me, and I guess he wasn't offering any other information, so she tried intimidating me. I sent the message to Chris and told him to deal with it and leave me out of it. If I had thought it through first, I would have told her to stop writing in passive voice.

Do I have you all up in arms now? Yeah, me too. This is batshit ridiculous, and I don't mean the other stupid, desperate girl- I mean me. What was I doing with him? Talking about the past, and being sad that it didn't work. My counselor called herself my therapist today, so I guess that's what I should be calling her. She talked to me today about the difference between normal, understandable, unavoidable pain, and prolonged, unnecessary, masochistic pain. Guess which one I'm good at?

It feels like things aren't that much different- we still enjoy each other's company, still feel most at ease together. He's like my second skin. Nothing else feels so much like home. But friendship feels off, and the way I can't help but hope- even knowing that's a bad and unexecutable plan- means that I get hurt. I cannot treat this like a friendship. It's not, of course, and it's even more one-sided than it was when we were together. And now, the girls are out in the open- sending me fucking Facebook messages! More pain, more shitty behavior.

In my heart, I know there's somebody better for me. Mom- read this again before we talk. I know there is someone who will behave much better- whose actions will line up with his words. I'm pissed, though- even though it was his decision to end it, he never will. I'll have to be the one to cut it.

My therapist said we're still in a relationship, and he still comes to me to fill the holes- I'm still one of his girls. Don't worry- that turns my stomach too.

I wish, I wish, I wish...

And.

And changes are happening. My life is taking a new direction, even as I drag my feet. My new job is a dramatic change, and I've got a lot of powerful, positive people around me. How can I help but become one?

I'm trying hard to put this down. I'm trying, I'm trying.

Who doesn't love aviation metaphors?

Brief check-in before bedtime:

The job so far is good. Better than good. I am currently feeling scattered and flustered about it, but who cares, because it's challenging and keeps me busy and the day zips by! This is just that first full week of training and being "on" and being exhausted. There is always that one person who means well, but who is actually creating more drama and difficulty, but that is a minor price to pay for a raise and some freedom and being surrounded by positive, giving people who are actively interested in collaboration. It's good.

But I'm tired, and it's only Tuesday. The rest of the week will fly by, I'm sure, and Chris coming back to town created inevitable drama, and I totally did get caught up in the wake turbulence. You know what's interesting, though? I am still upright and holding my course. Maybe that doesn't surprise you. I'm not necessarily surprised, but saddened. Not crying, not depressed, not derailed. Ok, maybe a little derailed, if it's possible to only be derailed a little bit. I cannot yet avoid the jet wash, but I am learning how to fly through it.

So for this week, the challenge is to get through. I've got a mess of things brought home from the Call Center: things to be sorted through, tossed, donated, put away, brought to the new job. I have things in the fridge that need to be cooked and things that need to be thrown out. I have animals that need love and exercise. I have a knee that hurts and muscles that are tired of holding a chair form. I have homework I have assigned myself from Ant's old schoolbooks and an unreasonable to-do list. I am feeling ridiculously overwhelmed, but I know two things: I will get used to my new schedule and responsibilities at my new job, and I will get through this week and the next imperfectly but successfully. Success as defined as alive and optimistic.

All systems go.