This nightmare never ends, I swear…

So, here I am.  At my mum’s.  Aaaaaaaand more insanity abounds.

She sent me 11 texts. Called 3 times. And left a message on my phone today.  Because she was “having a bad day”.  So, apparently I had to suffer, too.

Here’s the direct quotes from the text convo we had tonight:

Her: “I should have Dexter tomorrow.  Want to watch it Thursday?”
Me: “I’ll be at my mum’s Thursday. Remember?  They’re going away and I’m keeping an eye on Crissy?”
Her: “You said Friday…  I’ll send the DVDs back and get something else.”
Me: “I was pretty sure I said Thursday night. Cuz they’re leaving Friday morning. =\ you can’t keep things for longer than a few days?  Hmm. I don’t know how these things work. Sorry about that. =\”
Her: “So what’s the problem with Thursday during the day?  Even in Persona you can do -that-.”
Me: “I’ll be cleaning during the day.  I mean, I could watch a little, but not all of it.  Though you and Joe could finish up I guess. XD”
Her: “I -can-, but if you’re not going to be around, I’m going to get something to keep me from going stir-ducking-crazy from boredom.  I want to spend time with you.”
Me: “Whatever you want to do. =\ Sorry about that. I told you I had plans this week, sooooo…”
Her: “If you’re not going to be here for those little quiet moments, then I don’t want to spend the only time I get to see you with other people!  And why can’t you clean on a day when I work?  This is a big big big problem. You do not set aside time specifically for -us- unless I make a big deal of it. And then you make a point about how you had plans for the week. Ok. I don’t. So you get to make the plans around your schedule. And, if you want to know, I thought you had your dates messed up when you talked to me before, because your Twitter mentions watching Crissy this -past- weekend. So I figured you just had your days backwards, no big deal.”
Me: “I didn’t watch her this past weekend. I don’t know what my Twitter says. I’ll BE watching her.”
Her: “Fine. That’s just peachy. I’ll be at home. Doing nothing.”
Me: “You know what, if you’re going to act like this, I’m turning off my phone and going to bed.  I refuse to fight with you.”
Her: “I just want more than empty words. I propose spending time and you’re immediately full of why we can’t – not let me try to work something out, or what about Weds, or -anything-.  Like once a week is just too much.”
Me: “You know…  You’ve had a bad day. So I’m not going to speak my mind right now. I’m not going to add to it any more than I already have. Get some sleep. Feel better. I’m going to bed.”
Her: “I’m so tired of being the one who’s all alone. I just want someone who’s shoulder I can cry on for a bit – instead of shoving everything down inside. I can’t face coming home to an empty house anymore – I just sit in my car and listen to the music. I can’t bear how incredibly alone I am in this house – how much worse it feels when I hear the neighbors or dad or Mary…  Every little noise freaks me out. I avoid going to bed until I can’t help it, cause the noises will keep me up. I hate it. I just hate it.  I’m considering asking Mary to move over here, just so there’s another breathing soul I’ll see…  Fine, good night, sleep well.”
…..

All I have to say is, Welcome to “break-up”, honey.
Maybe it’s cruel of me to say so, but…  That’s the nature of the beast.  You’re GOING to feel alone.  I can’t do anything about that.  I bit my tongue more times than I can count.  It felt like she was just TRYING to pick a fight with me. *sigh*

The bottom line is, I am NO LONGER OBLIGATED to turn my life inside-out for her.  So… I’m just …  NOT. *shrug* I need to do my own thing for awhile.  At no point in that “need space, need to get away, need to find myself” speech last week did I ever say “Weekly Visits, MMKAY!!! =D “

Hells, no.
So… where she gets off making ANY sort of demand on my time just beats the shit out of me.  Mr. J says she can only drive me crazy if I allow her to…  Honestly, I’m not so sure about that.  Something in me definitely snapped tonight – and the repercussions of that snap-age aren’t going to be pretty…

Whatever asshole thing I end up saying to her from here on out is totally justified in my mind.  She had to poke me.  She couldn’t leave me alone for even a few days.  She had to revert to oblivious-selfish-mode already and I’m done being subtle.  I’m through playing nice.  The next time she pokes this sleeping dragon, it’s going to fucking eat her alive.

No Reason Left to Try.

I’ve managed to piss off the natives, yet again.  It started this morning, when I was in bed all cuddled up nice and cozy and, as usual, the damn overhead light comes on.  Peachy.  That annoyed me, but I’m used to being thrown off this way – I’m used to being rudely awakened for no good reason.  Well, she gets ready and leaves the room, turning off the light with her.  Good, I thought.  Maybe I’ll get some sleep after all.

Then I hear her messing around in my blue room.
The one I quite recently emptied out…
Oops?

I figured she’d have to look in there eventually, but I wasn’t counting on it being today.  What reason could she possibly have for invading my private room?  I was prepared to ignore it – until she came back into the room a second time and turned the damn light on again.  So, I woke up and she started to get pissy with me, which I ignored.  I grumbled about being woken up, but I honestly expect nothing less nowadays so I wasn’t nearly so bothered as I could have been.  Waiting for the anger to rise, waiting for the adrenalin to kick in and … nothing.  Apathy.  When you can’t even piss me off anymore, I think that’s a clue.

Anywho, apparently she’d been looking for one of my jewelry boxes (rather than one of her own) to stick her ring in.  Because her fingers have swollen thanks to the medications she’s on.  Fight time?  No.  Not at all.  She was pissy with me, but she barely said a word, ultimately.  Some part of me wonders if she was afraid to ask.  I remarked that the cats were being stupid.  She threw back an icy cold, “Well, you haven’t even had to DEAL with them for a couple days.”  To which I could only manage a surprised blink and a sarcastic, “Lucky me.”

For some reason, her tone of voice reminded me of a parent being all pissy because they’re home with the kids more than the other one.  Which made me wonder how she would truly have handled having kids around.  I guess we can both be thankful that it isn’t an issue.  The only thing I have to figure out is whether I’m taking Micah or not.  Which depends entirely upon whether that apartment will let me have him.  If not, I’ll be sad, but I’ll get over it.

She didn’t get unusually miffled until I told her I was leaving again today to help my sister clean up her apartment and that I wasn’t sure when I’d be back.  She started whining that I have tons of our own dishes to do (mind, she said ME – no indication of HER helping at all) and her parting words were, “You’ll clean for everyone else!”  Then she closed the door, not giving me a chance to impart my reply of, “Yeah – everyone BUT you.  I’ve done that for far too many years already.”

Makes me sad.  It was a good line.

Maybe she’s right about me: Arrogant, with words selected expressly with intent of causing harm.  Maybe that’s all I am anymore.  Cocky.  Cold.  Caustic…

Even still, I care enough about her as a person, as a friend, that I DON’T say over HALF of what I COULD say.  My brain-to-mouth filter catches more than it allows to slip through.  As it is, I still have respect and (at the risk of sounding arrogant) sympathy for her.  Things have been rough lately and I understand that, but it doesn’t mean I’m obligated to go through hell WITH her.  Not when she takes me for granted all the damn time.  Then there’s all of this…  I feel bad for putting her through it, but not bad enough to watch what little sanity I have left slide through my fingers.

My patience is actually rather good now that I know she’s seen the room.  She’s going to be a mess from here on out and I’m not going to call her on it.  After all, if you walked into your significant other’s study and saw it completely emptied, save for a few items which they hadn’t yet found a box for, wouldn’t you be on an emotional rollercoaster, too?  Granted, if it were me, I’d have asked what the hell that was all about.  Hey, but she’s not me.  I wonder if maybe she just doesn’t want to know.  I can’t blame her for that.  I can’t blame her for all the pissy-ness this morning, however unwarranted it might have been.

(I whined a little about being woken up early and she throws into my face, “You got enough sleep.  You went to bed at 10:30 last night.”  Which I corrected her on.  I’d gotten to bed around 11, actually, and she woke me up right as I was beginning to drift off when she came to bed.  So, it took me longer than that to fall asleep.  I didn’t add in what I’d thought, which sounded like this: Besides that, who is she?  The sleep police?  Am I not allowed to sleep in anymore or something?  What right does she have to tell me I’d had enough sleep?  Sorry, but my body makes that call.  Not her.  Tact – I still have some.  Now I have a killer headache I can’t seem to shake.  Peachy.)

I didn’t blame her for it all, though.  I didn’t argue with her.  I didn’t snap or get bitchy.  Although it won’t stop me, as I’m beyond the guilt now, I do understand.

Or do I?  Come to think of it, I’ve never once been dumped by anyone.  I’ve always been the one who leaves – never the one left behind.  Maybe that’s saying more about me than I care to contemplate.  Maybe that’s why I’m delaying this whole process.  Some part of me hopes she wakes up, smells the coffee and boots my ass out the door.  Not because I don’t have the balls to leave; no.  But because if she can’t see how fucked up this relationship is, if she can’t see the necessity for a break-up, she’s either infinitely optimistic or blind.  I’m hoping it’s the former, but I’m honestly wondering if the second might be more accurate.  She can’t possibly be happy this way and I’ve told her too many times over the past month that this is NEVER going to get any better.  Never.  Because I can’t keep my mouth shut and she can’t manage to treat me like a human being for more than a week at a time.  I’m just… so DONE.  I’m finally so miserable that I don’t really care who I’m tearing apart in the process and she’s so far gone that she doesn’t even notice who she steps all over anymore.  We’re… just assholes to each other at this point.  Is that any way to live?

I’m listening to “Nobody Wins” by The Veronicas, as that matches my mood at the moment.

I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t see a way of doing this that isn’t going to cause pain…  Someone is going to have to pick up the pieces to this mess, but it can’t be me.  It worries me.  But… maybe if she’s learned nothing else from me, she’ll have learned how to stand on her own two feet.  I’ve yet to see it in action, but hey – let me hope.  I’ve already recruited people to come check on her after I’ve gone and make sure she doesn’t fall into a deep depression again.  More for my peace of mind than anything else.  If she starves herself to death or something, I wouldn’t forgive myself.

I don’t hate her.  She’s not a bad person.  We just… don’t work well together anymore.

I changed.  And I’m not entirely sure what it is I’ve changed into…

We tried, didn’t we?  We had a wild run.  Not all of it was good.  Not all of it was easy.  We fought through more bullshit than most couples can claim to have done.  Yet even we, in the end, lost touch with who we were, if we’d ever known at all.  The world turned stagnant and we did, too.  Nothing moving; nothing changing.

Now it’s change or die and while Death looks impressive on paper, Change strikes me as a tad more practical.

Goddamn I need more coffee.. u_u

WHY.

I HAVE to fucking know.

WHY. Does. NO ONE. In. This. Place. Find. It. Necessary. To. CONSULT ME. On. Issues. That. Pertain. To. MY. Goddamn. Fucking. LIFE??????????????????????????????

I’m so SICK of this bullshit that I could just swallow a gun barrel.

Why can NO ONE talk to me directly???
Why must EVERYONE fuck with me behind my back???

Don’t GIVE me that “I don’t talk to you” bullshit – you never tried to talk to me, either! You’ve got a goddamn phone – USE IT!!!! You can call everyone under the sun about STUPID SHIT you see on tv, why not about something that FUCKS WITH ME??? Oh, I’m sure you’re trying to be the nice one here. I understand that you’re just trying to help me. But guess what? I didn’t ASK for your help and I don’t WANT it. I don’t NEED you to fuck around with logistics to give me health insurance. I DON’T WANT IT. I DON’T. If I get hurt, I’ll just fucking bleed like the rest of the goddamn world. I’m a big girl. I’ll figure it out MYSELF. I am SO NOT your responsibility! If you’d bothered to ASK me about this shit before moving on it, effectively FUCKING my unemployment pay, I’d have fuckity fuck fuck fucking TOLD you that!! WHY DOES NO ONE FUCKING ASK ******ME****** ABOUT THIS SHIT??!!!

It’s the same old song and dance.
I should know the score.
Why am I ~surprised~ every-goddamn-time someone in this house tries to mess with me?

Well, I’m done.
Stick a fork in me, kids.
DONE.

I won’t yell about this any more than I already have. I won’t scream. I don’t even care to explain my end of things, quite frankly.

The long and short of it is: I’m not doing this anymore.

I’m done. Done with being herded around. Done with being excluded from major decisions that fuck with my life. Done with being the only one who wanted to move on for so long. Done with being the one who’s always wrong about everything ever. Done with being someone else’s problem. Done with being a burden. Done with being the tag-along. Done with fighting against the current. Just done. No one cares what I think anyway. So why bother?

I complain that no one ever asks me about shit and then answer with “I don’t care” when I’m asked about dinner. I tell her she has no right to speak on my behalf and then get pissed when she doesn’t speak up and tell him NOT to mess with my life, even though she knows it’ll piss me off. I can’t make up my mind, obviously.

Obviously something’s broken inside my head.
Obviously I’M the problem here.
Obviously I’m just being difficult.
Obviously I’m the one with the issues.
Obviously I’M IN A MOOD.
And I’m never going to get any better.

I quit.
I quit life.
Can you do that?
….

Insomnia vs Me

Last night, I went to bed later than Ms. H and I woke up earlier this morning.  How’s that for sleep refusation?  Insomnia and I tend to butt heads.  It decides I can’t get the hell to bed and I decide that I can’t let insomnia get the better of me, SO I MUST STAY UP LONGER than insomnia would have otherwise kept me out of commission.  It’s a vicious, vicious cycle that generally ends in me scarfing copious amounts of coffee and chortling to myself randomly over my own superiority.  Kind of like the villains in the early days of comic books.  Now all I need is some plucky youth coming after me with a giant spork or something and my dastardly universe is complete.

… or something like that.

Always the nemesis – never the hero.  Being a bad guy is more fun. XD
Well.
Until you get your ass pounded.

I had the strangest dreams last night.  I only remember the last one.  These vampires came to me seeking help for a blood-borne disease or something like that.  Thing is, this was just after a huge spike in vampire-related deaths.  While I love vampire stories, shows and etc, I think I reacted very true to my own sensibilities in the dream. …  I told them to go fuck themselves.

That they, for all intents and purposes, were predators upon the human race and that I didn’t see a logical reason for me to get involved.  This pissed them off enough to try to turn everyone in my immediate life into a vampire, apparently to play upon my sympathies a bit more.  I shrugged and said oh well.  They were dead now.  What was dying a second time?  They got a tad testy about that, but couldn’t really do anything about it until they heard back from their Superior.  In the dream, I was a witch adept in blood magic, hence why they were bothering me.  If they made me, as they kept threatening to do, I wouldn’t have my specific ability anymore, I guess.  I don’t know.  The dream was a bit weird in its vampire details.

At the very end, their Superior showed up and tried to brainwash me into doing what they wanted.  It didn’t work very well, despite him being unbearably attractive.  All I kept thinking was, “So handsome and it’s all so utterly lost on me, you know.”  I woke up without helping them.  Poor dream vampires.  I feel a little bad for them now, but I was rather merciless in the dream.

I told Ms. H about my dream and she scoffed, “But you -like- vampires!”
I shrugged, “Apparently my dream-self didn’t.”
“But you liiiiike vampires!”
“They’re predators.  It makes no logical sense to save the lot when they’d probably use me for a midnight snack afterward.”

What can I say?  These weren’t ZOMGSPARKLE!!vamps, you know.  They were dangerous!  So, yes.  That was the only dream I remember from last night, although there were lots of weirdish dreams had.  My subconscious is a treacherous place. . . .

~Café

Returning to reality sometimes takes a bit…

My feet are killed.  Dead.  Deader than dead.  They hurt like no one’s business.  That was my own stupid fault, choosing shoes that looked nice over shoes that would serve their purpose comfortably.  NEVER AGAIN.  The next wedding I’m involved in, the shoes will be Chucks.  If anyone has anything to say, they can just stuff it.  Or kick me out of the wedding party.  Whichever.  I should have just brought my Chucks along in the first place.  Del wouldn’t have minded.  Ah well.  Hindsight, and all that.

Although things were confusing there for a little bit, everything came off and the only hitching done was between the bride and groom, as it’s meant to be.  The ceremony was short, but lovely.  Everyone looked amazing.  Everyone had a great time.  The food was incredible.  The dancing I did a little of, although admittedly, I’m not terribly great at it.

Events like this that force me to be seen in public remind me of how much I need to get back on the ball with losing some weight.  U_u   I go on-again, off-again about these sorts of things and really, I just need to get on a regime and stay on it.  The low-carb thing IS helping me and I do try to carry through with it, even when I’m not around Mr. J.  I’ve been eating more veggies lately and getting into grains I never thought I’d enjoy before.  The problem is, both Mr. J and I are still guilty of tossing butter into practically EVERYTHING, because come on – it adds flavor!  BUT.  I think I need to stop that, if only because I’m not getting any younger over here, my metabolism is slowing down and I need to get going on this before I lose the chance.

My problem is, I just don’t have the patience for diets.  Which is why I need to get into a healthier -lifestyle-, in general.  It’s rough, actually.  The sad thing is, I’ve even lost a little weight lately, yet I still feel enormous, compared to everyone else.  I wear between a 16 and an 18 pant, depending on the cut.  Tops are large/ex. large, depending on the cut.  My days of squeezing into mediums are over, I fear.  Though granted, I’ve got a DD bra cup over here, so fitting into flattering shirts PERIOD is a chore.  It annoys me.

On one level, I wonder if it’s just the media getting to me and adding all of this insecurity.  I don’t -feel- particularly unhealthy – I just don’t want to feel like I’m pudgy.  (And no, “More cushion for pushin’” does -not- make me feel any better.  Mr. J has tried that line on me already. *giggle snort*)  On another level, I wonder if I only got this way in the first place because I was depressed and searching to fill a void and now that I’m no longer depressed and all of my voids are being fulfilled in due process, I’m noticing that certain things need to change.

The second one makes me feel less vain, so we’re going to go with that one.  I want to start taking walks again (after my feet heal).  I want to go hiking.  I want to get out, do things…  Spring fever has hit in force, don’t you think?  Maybe it’s the season that makes me want to spread my wings and fly.  Or maybe it’s some kind of emotional response to the good things going on right now.  I couldn’t tell you which it is – only that I feel good right now.  I’ve started taking baby steps towards independence and the feeling is downright thrilling.  Though granted, if I wasn’t so sick (I think I caught whatever Mr. J has and it’s clogging up my nasal passages something fierce) I could probably appreciate it all a little more.

Oh!  The new acne stuff I bought is working.  Slowly, but surely.  The landmines on my face that existed before are disappearing beneath the surface and I’ve had no new ones since I started.  I hate zits.  Hate them with a passion and getting older has not driven them away, either.  I suspect I’d need to get on birth control of some kind to help with that, which I should do anyway, if only because my cycle is completely haywire without a little guidance.  TMI, I guess.  But didn’t you always WANT to know about my uterus functions???

Bah.  Fearless.

I have about five minutes of writing time left.  I told myself that I was going to blog for about an hour today and get everything that was in my system out of it, so that I could go back to writing/organizing Charmer.  There are days that I wake up and have words in my head.  That’s not a problem – it’s a good sign, actually.  But the problem is, until I get them out, I won’t be able to think of anything else.  Hence, this exercise in stream of consciousness rambling.

Most of the NEW!plot of Charmer has been rewritten.  I’ve introduced some new characters, taken away some other ones, redeveloped still other ones…  My work tends to be with the characters, rather than the world.  The world itself really isn’t all that hard to understand.  It’s nowadays, if nowadays had random breaches into other dimensions that creepy critters like to mess with the rest of the world through.  There are monsters, aliens, celestial beings, demonic entities, ancient evils and things that seem downright impossible – all kinds of craziness, just randomly passing into our world.  Fun stuff, right?  You want to live there.  Admit it.

It’s a nowadays in which all of those monster tales you ever heard as a child were true; where the curfew isn’t there to keep you from snogging your crush of the moment, but to keep you alive.

Only the very foolish or the very brave venture out after dark in this world.
…. enter Grace Landon, stage right.

My time is up.

Ciao~

~Café

You are responsible for your feelings…

…and no one else’s.

What can I say?  Every now and again my horoscope has something sage to impart.

So!  The wind outside is pretty crazy.  And I am sick as a dog.  Last night, when Ms. H needed hair dye to complete her universe, I picked up some essential will-not-have-pizza-face supplies and some important make-up necessities that I had been ignoring buying until now.  I’m excited to get to play with Mademoiselle Del’s make-up, as that tends to be one of my areas of expertise.  We bought a few other things, too.  Make-up removing napkins chief among them.  After all, what goes on eventually -must- come back off.

Wednesday, I’d finally washed my hands of the dresses we’d tried to make using the multi-stretchy purple fabric.  It was a pain in my ass and they didn’t look right.  The pieces didn’t cut and didn’t sew together very nicely.  Ultimately, I’d finally walked into a bridal shop and asked for similar dresses in the right color.  She didn’t have anything that fit the exact style, but she did have spot-on color for the one dress and a shade or two darker for the other.  So there we go.  Hopefully, we can be positioned apart or something so that we balance with the other girls.  Hopefully.  If not, we just get to be oddballs.  Fun!

Before all is said and done, I need to stop at the bank and cash my one check, then hit an atm and get money out of my unemployment.  By the end, I should have roughly $400 in cash on hand, which should pay for the spa treatment and all that happy stuff.  I plan on handing it right to Del, because I don’t ultimately know when the place needs paid – before or after.  I can bet that I’m going to have some trouble getting moving in the morning and I don’t want to hold everyone else up, should things take longer than I’d like.

This spring, Mr. J is teaching me to drive. … . . .    .     .
Yeah, I worry, too.
Poor guy!
Though if anyone can handle my random bouts of psycho, it’s him.  So we’re cool.  Don’t you just love irrational phobias?  Yeah.  Me too.

~Café

As the world falls down..

I should soooo not be awake right now.  The cats were being crazy though and managed to wake me up in the process.  Rawr.  Not pleased.  I’m a tad bit miffled, because I require money.  Preferably now.  And.  My unemployment is dragging its feet.  Ordinarily, the thing gets approved and I have my money the very next day.  This week, apparently because I NEED the money, it’s not in yet.  What the frickin frick.

Dress making bombed.  The material was a bitch to cut and even worse to sew.  That directional stretch seemed like a much better idea at the time than it actually was.  I can’t imagine getting a whole dress out of the stuff, so the next step is to either buy new fabric for it or just buy a dress that looks relatively close.  Ultimately, I think the latter in the equation is going to be our best bet.

I’m beyond pissed that my counterpart in this whole thing is being a pain in the ass.  Really, such a small thing as a dress should have been taken care of A LONG TIME AGO.  But any time I wanted to work on it, no one else did.  So here we are, down to the wire, and no one has their shit together.  Typical.  Honestly, just typical.  Now we’re going to have to scour the earth for two dresses that look about right and we’ll pay through the teeth for them, too.  Instead of just paying the initial $100 per dress from the beginning and being done with it.  Which, it was HER idea to bloody MAKE the dresses in the first place, rather than buying them, because “we didn’t have the money”.  Well, hell.  Who ever DOES have the money to drop on a wedding dress like that?  The point is, you plan for it and make it work.

*BIG ASS SIGH*

I give up.  Honestly, I don’t know why I’d expect anything different by this point.  I should just resign myself to the fact that no matter what, if I don’t do absolutely everything in all arenas, then it just isn’t going to get done.  How a person lives like that, I have no idea, but there we have it.  From the start, I should have just taken the reigns on this thing, because this relationship is not and never has been a partnership.  We have NEVER shared equal responsibility and I liked taking care of someone too much to see that.  She would be willing to cancel on her friend, to fuck up someone’s wedding, because “she has migraines” and “no one ever asked her”.

Like a little kid, she whines and cries that the world isn’t fair, screaming into the dark, demanding to be placated.  The problem is, the dark was all that was ever listening… and even that has now turned a deaf ear.

~Café

Don’t make me pull this thing over..

It’s Sunday, and I’ve gotten absolutely nothing done.  On any front.  At all.  I should be slightly more upset about this, but I’m not.  Worse comes to worse, I show up to the wedding in a tux.  I’m alright with that concept.  I knew all that crossplay would payoff someday.  (For the kids at home, “crossplay” is a woman who cosplays a male character, or vice versa.  “Cosplay” is a hobby where you dress up like your favorite character and go flouncing around.  Like Halloween, but any time of the year you want.  See Also: Superficial Catty Post-Teen Drama llama.)

I only mock out of love.
Honest.
*snerk*

There’s coffee brewing.  I suppose that helps.  I’ve got my Avenue Q mug waiting in the wings and Rogue Traders blaring on my laptop.  I crashed out at 9 last night and woke up at 8 this morning.  Yeah.  I’d say the stress had gotten to me.  I’m feeling a little better today and slightly… evil.  I don’t know.  I can’t quite explain it.

There’s this twinge in the back of my mind that keeps saying a good thing to do would be to throw caution to the wind and do whatever it is I please.  Run away to Fiji.  Or just hide in Canada until everything has blown over.  SOMETHING.  I know this is just spring fever talking.  But, still.  I don’t claim to be much more than moody.  On some level, I did give in to the sensation a bit.  I turned my phone off.  That one act alone did more to solve my grumpy attitude than I can even begin to express.  Huzzah, for the little things!

I really ought to get ready for tonight, though to be fair, I’m mostly ready to go.  My clothes are folded and stuffed into my bag, as are my bed things and a robe.  I keep an extra set of toiletries there so I don’t have to cart them back and forth all the time.  Hrm.  What else?  I have some nice tea light candles that I doubt I’ll use otherwise.  I’ll grab those.  I’m debating what else to drag along.  With me, that’s a dangerous question.

Yeah.  I have a nasty habit of falling off the face of the earth – this is one of those times.  There’s just no help for it.  Wish me luck?

~Café

In Which There Is Much Editing…

I’ve been slowly, but surely working my way through some of the older entries in my original blog.  I didn’t realize that I’d been flouncing about the blog scene since 2004…  Although, in all fairness, I did have other DeviantArt accounts from 2001-2003 and DA has journals … I just can’t remember the names or passwords.  (It happens.)

And…  The Escapist keeps distracting me. *shakes fist!* Their videos are hilarious.  I needed a bit of a distraction today, though.  If left to my own devices, I’d likely just start hurling curses and threats.  BECAUSE.  Things always find a way to over-complicate themselves. *sigh* What a day this is shaping up into.

Honestly, I’m not sure what’s on the menu for the day.  I have to get myself to Northern Cambria at some point and then my sister wanted me to watch Lexie.  I can’t decide what direction I want to turn at this point.  A job is a job and I’m not going to turn my nose up at anything right now.  I can’t afford to.  Although, I’m only willing to work evenings, so I’m sure that’s going to be something of an issue.  Well, whatever.  I just have to suck it up and see what they’re offering.  I won’t stop looking for a better job, of course, but right now anything is better than nothing.  Transportation stuff will get worked out eventually.  Mr. J offered to help me work past my car phobia, so I’m going to take him up on that and hope for the best.  That’s really all I can do.

I’m in a writing mood today, but I’m not going to have a second to spare on it, which makes my Muse rather testy.  If I fall into a coma later, we’ll all know why – death by Muse (and I’m not talking the band here, either)… what a way to go.

At any rate, we need to go, so we can get back and Ms. Menstruation in there isn’t moving fast enough for my tastes.  I know, I know.  I’m a woman and thus, I should be more sympathetic about the whole killed-a-goat-in-the-toilet-thing, but I’m nervous, so my tolerance is shot.  In about 2 seconds, I’m going to lose my patience and start pitching things.  My next post will be from an overnight holding pen……

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~Café

In which there is much to do…

I have little idea how all of this works.

SO.

This is me, trying to make everything function.

Please forgive the crazy – it’s how I roll.

~Café