Caterwauling

So I’ve got one of those blinding headaches that I get every year, in which I’d normally close myself in my office, turn off the lights and keep the place silent.

And, oh yeah, now I work in a bustling cube farm and have NO control over the pendant lights that are just above our heads. Yay.

So I’m wearing sunglasses instead of reading glasses. Which is NOT overly helpful to my line of detail work. And then I had to take them off to go greet Sexual Harassment Panda.

Anyway, of course I take it seriously, but the one problem I have (other than the discouragement from swearing and of commenting on other’s work hours *cough*) is the whole “you may never ever never ever never date anyone here ever” stuff. And that’s fine, really. I mean, the thought doesn’t often cross one’s mind anyway.

But … what if your soulmate is working somewhere in the building or is maybe going to start working there? How many people don’t even notice the yin to their yang (lawsuit!) and are miserable little workers when they could be happy in at least one area of their lives? 😉

Oh well. Back to the grindstone. Heh heh heh heh heh, she said “grind”!

Back to the fourth grade with me. …

So a friend was sharing a VERY romantic e-mail from a new suitor that was sending our hearts a-flutter with the beauty of the language (and correct grammar!) used. And the conversation is just too good to lose into the AIM ether. …

Notice: All instant messages sent to and from this buddy name will be logged by the IMAuditor and are subject to archival, monitoring, or review and/or disclosure to someone other than the recipient.
Friend: [insert magical prose here]
Friend: he sent that very early this morning
Moi: dear god
Friend: sAwoon
Moi: quick, somebody start fanning me
Friend: the writer in me is near to fainting
Moi: the woman in me would be saving that for later 😉
Friend: ahahahaha
Friend: wouldn’t it be wonderful if there was such a man, with prose like that, a lovely face, who opened your door and held your chair, and then brought you home and slammed you against the … shit we are being monitored.

Since the only thing I can fire is Monday, I did. As did the rest of the blogiverse.

At least the weekend was good. I just have to promise the universe that I’m not going to overthink this one. Since that’s what I do with all the rest of them.

But I am enjoying the new distraction. Very much so. 😉

All right, gotta go hire a cleanup crew to get the stench of Monday out of my clothes. …

What, you thought I had nothing to say on Sarah Palin’s soap opera of a life? Please. I’ve just been posting the good stuff on Twitter.

But, courtesy of Cake Wrecks, I know what to get the teen who’s popping out the love bundle that she — did I hear it right? — chose to keep.

Bristol, this is why choice is so important — you missed your chance to get rid of your dead-behind-the-eyes deadbeat baby-daddy. Now THERE’S a gene pool not worth perpetuating. …

Anyway.

From the “no rest for the wicked” files (hmm, a new blog category? Can has!), I escaped work at a reasonable hour last night. To the point that I felt like I was ducking out early. How sad is that? With the AT&T Edge network having committed suicide for the short term, I realized after I left that I couldn’t even check e-mail outside the building.

Awww. So sad.

I have a few places to which I escape that no one can find me. Unless they are invited. Which is rare. But it happens. Otherwise, they’d have to do some serious detective work, because I have a habit of parking far, far away from my destination spots. (In the name of exercise, but you know, I still don’t want to be found too easily.)

So, “Hamlet 2”? I picked it because it was the first movie showing upon arrival at the theater. If you don’t see it, don’t worry about it. Rent it so you can pause it to go kill yourself between scenes.

Anyway, I was in my “happy place” (a physical one this time) when I was jarred out of my “ha ha — nobody knows where I escape to!” dream. I was taking a walk and lo and behold, I saw my mother and her derelict-of-the-month-club representative. Lord.

I blew past them like I didn’t see them. She didn’t turn around, but the dude practically stared me down, so I can only presume she pointed me out. Fuq.

So I did what any other person in the situation would do — no, not gone up to chat but instead ducked into the first-available labrynth parking garage with hopes that it dumped out somewhere familiar. God damn it, it didn’t. I couldn’t even find a stairwell. I ran up three levels — on the parking ramp — till I found a stairwell that could spring me out of that horribly hot hell.

Once I was outside, I realized I was about a quarter-mile from my car. And I learned how runners start running — I realized hey, I can have the house! To myself! Sweet!!!

So, I bolted to my car. OMG, I didn’t know I had it in me. Like we say in my department, it’s amazing what we can do when properly motivated. No shit. 😉

I got home, threw some food at the cats, assembled the world’s fastest dinner and shut myself into my room in fewer than eight minutes. Yes!

But …

Yep, she came home right then, as the District clearly has a law against me ever having the house to myself.

It was 9 p.m. What fucking date ends at 9 p.m.? Oh right, the type that don’t feed you.

Anyway, I digress. I guess my secret’s out that I do not go straight home from work unless it’s past a certain hour, and now my whereabouts can be accounted for. Not cool. Must find another hidey-hole post-haste. …

“I turn to
Call to you
But you
Have fallen under
Just out of reach
I can’t seem to catch my breath
I reach out
To hold you
But you
Keep slipping under
Just out of reach
I can’t seem to catch my breath
At all ”

— Juniper Lane, “Catch My Breath“

This song came on my iPod immediately after I had a small panic attack in a ladies’ restroom. Seems fitting, as I was definitely not ready to lose my carefully arranged cookies.

Anyway.

Actually, it’s been a week full of small victories here at Casa de Caterwauling. I guess it is meant to make up for the sheer suckitude of the last month or so. Not biting the hand that feeds, mind you — just letting the universe run its course.

Now, I’m not saying to remove the yellow tape from around my heart and life — it’s still a disaster area, by all means. But maybe the key to getting past this period of my life is simply to go around instead of powering through.

I was looking forward to powering through. But I’ve been weakened. One could argue “what else do I have to lose” and another part of me says well, I’m lying bruised and bloodied and clearly in need of something resembling help. And if the carcass is just so very obviously being left there to rot, then that tells me more than a “yes” or “no” ever could.

So anyway, am trying to squeeze out the bitter so I can truly celebrate what is good and easy and right. Because there is some of that and I want to let the universe know how much I appreciate it and that I’m definitely leaving the door open for more of that.

Man, I am so sick of these fucked-up, cryptic-ass blog entries. I should put up my journal on eBay and start taking bids. One wonders who would be the lucky bidder on THAT treasure trove of goddess-ness and, more importantly, how much money they’d think it was worth. …

*starting to breathe a little more normally again*