Caterwauling

There was a time when my friends and I blogged every single day. Multiple times, if we could swing it. But then days and even a week or so can go by, and none of us update.

It’s sad, really, because we are all so busy that tossing up a blog posting was our way of saying to the world that we’re still alive, and it was kind of our connection to each other. Especially for someone like me — who’s changed addresses, e-mails, jobs and phone numbers, not to mention that folks who use to know me probably wouldn’t recognize me if they passed me on the street — I understand that the blog is kind of my “still breathing” signal.

I had asked one friend whose blogging abated long before mine did, why she didn’t update anymore. She just kind of shrugged and said, “Don’t really need to.”

I don’t think it’s that I don’t need to use this space to record my life; maybe it’s that I’ve stopped wanting to. Or simply having time to.

I’ve been on this super-secret mission for quite some time now. Nobody really knows what I’m up to and it’s weird, not touching base with everyone to say, “OMG, you wouldn’t believe the ridiculously awesome things that happened last night.” Because although yesterday does not rank in the top 10 days of my life to date, the after-work hours (since the workday was what they call a “big fat fucking waste”) were just so, so surprising. And pleasant.

And maybe I want to keep a little of that to myself for now.

I remember with one of my relationships that I was just so SURE was going to turn out to be something, I blabbed. Not here. Well, OK, yeah I did. But in another place where I post, I was just all hopes and smiles and “OMG, I deserve this and I can’t wait to see where it goes.”

You know what that’s called? Jinxing yourself. Seriously. What a holy fucking fizzle that was.

So I’ve sort of trained myself to get my hopes up a little — just a teeny, tiny bit — but the less I share with the people around me, oftentimes the better it turns out.

It’s strange that way. And somewhat disappointing, because I really do love to document my journey. I dunno, I guess I just want to give others hope, that if I can make miracles work, so can they.

I also suppose I want to be able to see where I went wrong … and where I went right. I know that when you finally reach a goal, you can forget a lot of the details that got you there or the ones you could have eliminated to get you there sooner.

In any case, the important thing is that, even though I can’t really say what I’m up to, I’m still up to some things. And maybe it’s a blessing that I not get caught up in all the details till I can have time to reflect on them and make sense of them in a completely different context.

It’s weird not talking it out. But it’ll be OK because I’ll just have more stories to tell from the other side.

My pastor’s wife came to chat with me before services started. It’s eerie how much information this woman holds in her head about all of us, me included. The questions she thinks to ask, the things she follows up on from several weeks/months ago, the armchair psychology she can perform … it’s astounding that either she’s that brilliant or I’m that memorable. Or, both.

Anyway, she told me I looked great today. I just said thanks and she guessed pretty much every reason why. It was nice to have someone share in my little stack of joys. Hey, it’s a little stack, but it’s still a stack nonetheless!

Speaking of all things (not) joyous, I just paid my latest traffic ticket online. And not only did the form remember my information from the last three tickets in the past six months, but it also ends with this nice, friendly message:

We look forward to serving you again.

Yes, I’m aware you are thrilled at the idea of siphoning even more cash from my coffers that could have gone toward charity or, OK, alcohol, but still.

You know how you can serve me? By eating me. Jesus H. I don’t need an invitation to come back soon, mmkay? Am already a frequent guest, can’t'cha tell?

Thursday is only wearing 15 pieces of flair.

Well said, Tom. Well said.

We’re dealing with Mousegate in Cubicle Hell today. How those fat, furry little fuckers managed to squeeze their big mouse butts into everyone’s file cabinets is beyond me. They even got into our drawers and ate the foam off of our noise-canceling headphones.

Seems the rodents have a penchant for granola bars, almonds and instant oatmeal. But while they ate my maple-sugar-flavored oatmeal (good on them — I hate it anyway) and skipped my plain oatmeal, they skipped the maple at my friend’s desk and went for the apple-cinnamon.

I’m going to have to bring in latex gloves tomorrow to clean up all the mouse crap. Dude, they ruined two of my three pairs of headphones!

The little bastards peed in some folks’ file cabinets, but I think my little invaders must have found a laxative in someone’s workstation, because I’ve had birds do less damage to my windshield. Didn’t they get the memo that you’re not supposed to shit where you eat?

Today’s Gemini horoscope:

Daily Work: Of course you’re frustrated. Who wouldn’t be if they were dreaming about change but not doing anything about it? Transformation is within your reach, if you start to make an effort.

Daily Singles Love: A fiery fantasy might become a reality if you give someone who’s been pursuing you a chance. Throw caution to the wind and let your heart call the shots for a change.

Wait, what? Following my heart? Who, me?

Nevermind that I’ve had the same dream four nights in a row. Yes, four.

Anywho, I’m still rather amazed that I left work on time last night to, like, do something. Something for me. Something way overdue and too-often-overlooked in the hustle to work, work and work some more.

I guess I inflict this mental pressure on myself, that if I’m always working, then I’m securing my job and am also not otherwise getting into trouble.

But I’ve been avoiding someone … me. I’ve been avoiding my needs and desires and all the things that make me, well, me. I’ve chosen to avoid relationships 100% and only to date people who are as emotionally unavailable as they come.

And with good reason — I apparently lack the empathy gene and apparently love not having to invest any time into anyone. Actually, that’s overstating the issue — I just haven’t made the time for anything or anyone I could care about, so I always have the excuse that I don’t “have” the time … instead focusing on my career and thinking the rest will happen “when it’s meant to.” That things will “fall into place.”

Guess what? They don’t. So sometimes, you gotta force the issue. And that’s exactly what I’m doing.

I’m scared and excited and confused and don’t know what the hell to do next. But it sure beats being frustrated and stuck and hopeless.

I like the person I’ve become so far. But she ain’t done yet … far from it.

“Hello, let me introduce you to
The characters in the show
One says yes, one says no
Decide - which voice in your head you can keep alive.”

– Shinedown, “I Dare You“

Today is so fucking fired.

Too bad you can’t actually go home after firing Monday … I might have contributed to the shit-canning of this awful day, but I still put in 13 hours of workity work work.

Speaking of work, I’m stealing an idea from Nic and asking you to pretend I just told you about my day, whereupon you act shocked and appalled and I’m saying, “I know, can you imagine?” Then we make several pitchers of margaritas and pass out in a tequila-soaked haze.

I feel better already!

Just want to thank Ian Usher for putting Dido’s “Life for Rent” in my head with his Life for Sale auction.

I give him credit. I really do. Just selling everything he owns along with a shot at his job so he can jump on a train and go somewhere, anywhere but there? Sounds pretty kickass to me.

“I’ve always thought
That I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone
And live more simply
I have no idea what’s happened to that dream
‘Cause there’s really nothing left here to stop me.”

– Dido, “Life for Rent“

I wish I at least had the dream house and the furniture and all the neat stuff (spa, jetskis, car) to go with it. I would put my life up on eBay in a heartbeat.

Of course, my auction item would have to be non-refundable, as I presume the winner would spend one week at my job and with my mother and would be at their lawyer’s office, trying to find the suicide clause that would get me to forfeit their money or else they’d have to kill themselves after walking a mile in my stylish little shoes.

See, I’m no dummy — by the time my life auction would end, I would either be in witness protection or at least faking my death and living my life with a babushka on my head so no one would recognize me.

In any case, good luck to you, Ian, and I hope the future holds all the wonderful things that the present certainly doesn’t. I hope we hear about you again … good things, of course. If you should find your way to Washington, D.C., we’ll take wonderful care of ya. …