Get office manager job - "resort" imperative!
Diane get sick of commuting and rent house for $900!
Get a dog!!!!!!!!!
Mow the lawn
Shovel snow
Clean the gutters
Pressure wash
Weed
Decorate
Paint
Walk the dog
Yes
Please.
Then.
Gym membership
Zipline
Treetop Trecks
Bike
Ball
Climb
Climb
Climb
Yes
Please.
Friday 14 June 2013
Thursday 13 June 2013
With and without (drugs)
I have been off birth control for a whole month now. Off the anti-depressants completely for nearly two weeks. I've been watching.
The moods are there. I feel I'm pretty in control of them. Sometimes I could rip someone's head off and it's been a long time since I needed to deal with that but I keep it in check. Especially at work.
My head feels fuzzy. When I first started taking Welbutrin, I remember one of the first things I felt and one of the first things I thought was my brain felt clear in a way it never had. It was as if I'd been sleepy my whole life and finally woke up. The opposite is true right now. I feel as if I always want to sleep. I'm constantly asking for nap time and on the weekend I napped like a baby. I just feel lazy.
It is highly possible, though, that this fuzzy head and turtle-like body could be cleared up if it weren't for this lazy life I'm leading. And this shit I'm ingesting into my body. My periods are nearly non-existent now. My hair is falling out again. I sit constantly. I'm not healthy. And the promise of clarity would definitely be a motivator.
At this point, I'm the largest I've ever been -and I am not an attractive fat person... I look cranky, complete bitch. And I have never been so lazy. Sedentary. I've always been involved with something. There were lags, of course, but I've not sat this long before. I don't like it. But I'm too fucking lazy to get up and do something about it.
Poop.
The moods are there. I feel I'm pretty in control of them. Sometimes I could rip someone's head off and it's been a long time since I needed to deal with that but I keep it in check. Especially at work.
My head feels fuzzy. When I first started taking Welbutrin, I remember one of the first things I felt and one of the first things I thought was my brain felt clear in a way it never had. It was as if I'd been sleepy my whole life and finally woke up. The opposite is true right now. I feel as if I always want to sleep. I'm constantly asking for nap time and on the weekend I napped like a baby. I just feel lazy.
It is highly possible, though, that this fuzzy head and turtle-like body could be cleared up if it weren't for this lazy life I'm leading. And this shit I'm ingesting into my body. My periods are nearly non-existent now. My hair is falling out again. I sit constantly. I'm not healthy. And the promise of clarity would definitely be a motivator.
At this point, I'm the largest I've ever been -and I am not an attractive fat person... I look cranky, complete bitch. And I have never been so lazy. Sedentary. I've always been involved with something. There were lags, of course, but I've not sat this long before. I don't like it. But I'm too fucking lazy to get up and do something about it.
Poop.
Tuesday 11 June 2013
Seeking Front Office Manager at Beautiful Resort!!!!
I want this job. I want I want I want stomp stomp stomp want!
How do I get it?
Eek.
How do I get it?
Eek.
Wednesday 5 June 2013
This is Tuesday, right? This is Tumblr, right? (No. And really no.)
What's going on with him? Why is he acting this way? Is it because the whole marriage thing has been thrown at him and he's a little freaked? Would it be wrong to tell him that I just want to be engaged so I can wear Mom's ring? I mean, I love him like I've never loved anyone in my life. And I am really getting sick of pronouncing and spelling my name and still getting questions and blank looks. So I do want and expect to marry him at some point... and only about 25% because I want to change my stupid name. But it doesn't have to be right now. I don't know. Whenever. It will fall into place in it's own time. Just like the idea of going off the pill - it will happen or it won't, it will fall into place. It really doesn't matter a whole lot to me, I'm in this either way. I'm here... I brought the jewelry.
What if part of the problem was that he deleted his Tumblr? It was a release, a way to vent and voice his frustrations - or, at the very least, prepare me for them - and he doesn't have that right now. He was mostly sick of the obligation of looking at the feed of his followers but it doesn't have to work that way. It can be a cross between Facebook and Tumblr. He could do like Amy does with WordPress or like I'm doing here to a degree (probably more 'magazine article' than my 'dear diary' approach but same difference). He is a tremendous writer and he knows how to get shit down on paper internet blog. It would be a shame to give that up just because of a few dick-head posers.
What do I want to say to him right now? I want to say he caught me off guard last night and I wasn't expecting him to be in the mood he was in. I need to prepare myself, I'm sorry. I'm that way with just about everything, though. And when I'm not prepared, it's fight or flee. I don't like to fight. I don't. I left my parents during their darkest hour because I couldn't bear to listen to them bicker anymore. I did it under the guise of leaving because I was a financial burden and so I could make more and send some home, which I did whenever I could. But it was the fighting that drove me out of there.
And you can say that Mom says we were a normal family and whatever she told you. She's completely right in a general sense. Don't get me wrong, I love that woman... you know I do. I love her as much as I did when I idolized her as a child. But I see her with adult eyes now, too. She's not as into it these days but she likes to bicker. She is a very good bickerer, she comes from a long line of bickerers. I don't think she really picked it up until she got laid off. It was like her soul got broken a little bit that day. She lost her faith in humanity, and in herself. And she began to bicker. I, too, will bicker if I feel the need. You can blame our ancestors.
Dad liked to banter. See the difference? Bicker, banter. Same words, different tone. And when Mom wasn't around, Dad would banter until the cows come home. And he brought out the banter in me. Ohgod, we had so much fun. Like when you and I banter. Dad hated the bickering but he loved Mom more than he loved his own life, and I think he really didn't know how to stop the bickering without stopping the banter. So he learned to live with it.
We both do both. We don't always do a good job in communicating or synchronizing, but we both seem to have a handle on bicker and banter. And when I'm feeling a bicker coming on, I have to see which one of us is causing it because I don't want to put you through what my father went through. Here's the thing about me that's different, though: if it's just a few words, I'll leave the room for a minute; if it's more than a few words, I'll walk around the block; if it's hurtful name calling, I'm probably gone for the night or weekend; if it's aggressive and I lose trust, I'm pretty much just gone.
I won't permanently leave in anger. I will never move out if we are fighting or angry unless I feel threatened (which I almost felt once and he totally backed off). But I will always step away and reflect. Objects in mirror are closer than they appear. Feelings in mirror are more obvious than they originally appear.
I need to edit this. I don't know if I got my point across. I'll look at it again tomorrow. I like to rewrite my diary. Sosueme.
G'nite.
What if part of the problem was that he deleted his Tumblr? It was a release, a way to vent and voice his frustrations - or, at the very least, prepare me for them - and he doesn't have that right now. He was mostly sick of the obligation of looking at the feed of his followers but it doesn't have to work that way. It can be a cross between Facebook and Tumblr. He could do like Amy does with WordPress or like I'm doing here to a degree (probably more 'magazine article' than my 'dear diary' approach but same difference). He is a tremendous writer and he knows how to get shit down on paper internet blog. It would be a shame to give that up just because of a few dick-head posers.
What do I want to say to him right now? I want to say he caught me off guard last night and I wasn't expecting him to be in the mood he was in. I need to prepare myself, I'm sorry. I'm that way with just about everything, though. And when I'm not prepared, it's fight or flee. I don't like to fight. I don't. I left my parents during their darkest hour because I couldn't bear to listen to them bicker anymore. I did it under the guise of leaving because I was a financial burden and so I could make more and send some home, which I did whenever I could. But it was the fighting that drove me out of there.
And you can say that Mom says we were a normal family and whatever she told you. She's completely right in a general sense. Don't get me wrong, I love that woman... you know I do. I love her as much as I did when I idolized her as a child. But I see her with adult eyes now, too. She's not as into it these days but she likes to bicker. She is a very good bickerer, she comes from a long line of bickerers. I don't think she really picked it up until she got laid off. It was like her soul got broken a little bit that day. She lost her faith in humanity, and in herself. And she began to bicker. I, too, will bicker if I feel the need. You can blame our ancestors.
Dad liked to banter. See the difference? Bicker, banter. Same words, different tone. And when Mom wasn't around, Dad would banter until the cows come home. And he brought out the banter in me. Ohgod, we had so much fun. Like when you and I banter. Dad hated the bickering but he loved Mom more than he loved his own life, and I think he really didn't know how to stop the bickering without stopping the banter. So he learned to live with it.
We both do both. We don't always do a good job in communicating or synchronizing, but we both seem to have a handle on bicker and banter. And when I'm feeling a bicker coming on, I have to see which one of us is causing it because I don't want to put you through what my father went through. Here's the thing about me that's different, though: if it's just a few words, I'll leave the room for a minute; if it's more than a few words, I'll walk around the block; if it's hurtful name calling, I'm probably gone for the night or weekend; if it's aggressive and I lose trust, I'm pretty much just gone.
I won't permanently leave in anger. I will never move out if we are fighting or angry unless I feel threatened (which I almost felt once and he totally backed off). But I will always step away and reflect. Objects in mirror are closer than they appear. Feelings in mirror are more obvious than they originally appear.
I need to edit this. I don't know if I got my point across. I'll look at it again tomorrow. I like to rewrite my diary. Sosueme.
G'nite.
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