Caterwauling

Found out today is a friend’s last day here at Ye Olde Alligator/Pig/Armadillo/Coyote/Croc/Frog Farm.

She wasn’t employed here but instead for another company that also squats in this space. I’m going to miss her. She is leaving of her own accord — returning to a career she used to have that she loved. So that makes me happy.

I’ll miss her constantly nagging me to take my breaks. That everybody above me sees the light of day and the light of evening, too.

I started smoking again so I could get some “me” time. That counts, right?

Anyway, the first two friends I made here are now gone.

More than ever, I really really really miss my Ye Olde Investor Ranch family. We weren’t a just team — we were family. And still are. And will always be.

And I’ll never stop striving for that feeling again.

Yesterday handed me the dictionary definition of “insult to injury.”

It’s the symbolism more than the act itself that opened my eyes wide, before narrowing them considerably.

I guess since nobody really cares what I think, I’ll say this:

Of all the things I wish for in a day … I’m terrified that the one or six times I mutter, “Please God just kill me already” … that’s going to be the one thing He decides to grant.

God, when I ask for You to let me catch a break, do I have to qualify it every time that I mean I want a GOOD break?

Veggie Patch.

*running away from the keyboard*

I’ve decided to stop telling people about my days. Because when I look back on them as I’m driving home during the 8 or 9 p.m. hour each night, I think, “God, they can’t all be this bad, can they?” And then they just manage to get worse.

Oh, yeah, fuck today, by the way.

I was sort of joking (but not really) with superiors and subordinates that the answer to every question is now, “Ask Goddess” or “Goddess will do it.” And I do, or will die trying.

I managed to find two seconds this weekend to write to a hot guy on the personals site. No response. Kill me.

Oh, and I really miss someone. I had a dream about said someone. I don’t think there’s a future there but I’d take a tomorrow or two or 10. God, please for the love of You give me something to hold on to that’s not just a glass of wine.

“And all around your island
There’s a barricade
It keeps out the danger
It holds in the pain

Sometimes you’re happy
Sometimes you cry
Half of me is ocean
Half of me is sky

But you got a heart so big
It could crush this town
And I can’t hold out forever
Even walls fall down

And some things are over
Some things go on
And part of me you carry
Part of me is gone.”

— Tom Petty, “Walls (Circus)”

“Jack and Jill went up the hill
Jack burned out on booze and pills
Mary had a little lamb
But Mary just don’t give a damn no more.”

— Kacey Musgraves, “Merry Go Round”

Other than battling my demons with Grey Goose and Klonopin that’s been in the freezer for two years, I’ve been apartment-hunting.

It suuuucccckkkkks.

I’ve found some cute 1BRs on the shore. Not that I can get a 1BR but you know, I’m trying to keep my options open.

Mom hates everything I love. I mean, she hates EVERYTHING. Because nothing will be a corner condo with a wraparound balcony that sits where the Intracoastal meets the ocean. The privacy, the sea air, the prime ZIP code … it can’t be beaten. Even the price is good for what I have.

But … I found a similar unit one drawbridge south of here. Five hundred bucks less a month. No pets allowed but meh. And the thing is, paying $500 less a month isn’t out of the realm with most of the units I’m looking at.

Hello I can pay for her health care with that. Buy a car. Fly to Paris. Build up a fund so I am not in a constant panic about this fragile field I work in.

She talked me out of moving last year. Mostly because after you pay first month’s rent, last month’s rent, security and moving costs, you don’t save squat. That, and it’s all on me — paying for it, orchestrating it, packing and having the nervous breakdowns while working 12-hour days, 45 minutes away from here.

Believe me, writing out those big fat checks has been a pleasure compared with the 10 pounds of worry you have to squeeze into a stressful 30-day moving period. It’s not like you can take a day off when you do six jobs.

But if the Chinese are right, sometimes you have to cut your hair to get rid of the bad memories and ju-ju that become embedded in the dead strands. I took this place when I was making the Big Salary that drew me here.

I assumed Princess would get a job and help out around here financially. I never anticipated being unemployed for a year and her never managing to contribute. I didn’t expect a pay cut when I DID get a job again.

Oh fuck it, let’s face it. I never dreamed I wouldn’t be shacking up with someone by now and splitting expenses and that mom wouldn’t be on her own somewhere.

Life has a funny way about it. That’s all I gotta say.

Anyway, she wants to stay and frankly, I have been OK with that until a few days ago. It’s not that anything happened, per se. I just had a chat with my Source and I heard, loud and clear:

“You came here when you were working for a terrible company, and then another terrible company. You came here with a different salary. You came here with hopes and dreams and you leave here every single day without them. Time to switch things up, get new dreams, and get a new perspective.”

Hey, I don’t argue with God when one of His messengers manages to get through to me!

I have yet to give notice to this palace that my carriage is about to bleed pumpkin guts in our pothole-filled lot.

Dear God, since you’re listening and all, can You whip up something with modern appliances, that was built after I was born, and with Intracoastal views, an elevator, quicker access to the freeway, some more access to civilization (i.e., stores), and some good-looking men on the premises who are in my age group AND who are single*?

And can it materialize within the next four days so I can give my 60-day notice to this place on Jan. 30?

(*Don’t get me started on the messages in my personals inbox. I’m … intrigued. By several of them. But none of them will ever be _ _ _ _ and I’m having a surprisingly hard time coming to terms with that right now. A blog entry for another time. Like when I have time to CONSIDER a response.)

“Tiny little boxes in a row.
Ain’t what you want, it’s what you know.
Just happy in the shoes you’re wearin’.
Same checks we’re always cashin’ to buy a little more distraction.”

“If I died and went to hell, it would take me a week to realize I wasn’t at work anymore.”

You wouldn’t know it from this post, but I like my new job. It’s going to be the death of me at this point, but I am almost willing to die trying. That’s how committed I am to making this work.

The only thing that really bothers me, and that’s probably a funny way of putting it but bear with me here, is that the devil is in disguise and that devil likes to be my friend but man that devil sure likes to judge me in the court of public opinion.

All I have to say is this: My beloveds send me heaps of praise. Heaps. And even gifts!

No one received more alcohol for the holidays, I assure you. And I got jewelry (nice jewelry!) on top of it. Don’t ever underestimate my power of goddess-ness, is what I’m saying. If people I just try to do my best for, see fit to praise and reward me so wonderfully, I must not suck as a human being. Right?

You might not like me. And that’s too bad. I believed in you. I still do. But that’s the difference between us. I don’t have to convince you at every available opportunity that I’m your friend. I just am. That you feel the need to reassure me that you are true, well, I should have seen it coming that you’re about as true to me as a Republican telling me he cares about my personal reproductive choices.

So for anyone who sees fit to spread poison about me, well, my track record should tell everyone otherwise. When’s the last time anyone sent you a gift for being an awesome person? Or sent e-mails to the top of the organization to protest my removal from their projects because my workload is too great?

Exactly. Now go find something to be joyful about.

I’ll forgive you because that’s the kind of person I am. Just remember this: It’s not your judgment that I spend a moment of my life worried about. I will rise, and you will remain, unless YOU take different steps than the ones you’re taking now.

Choose wisely.

Kisses, hugs and a swift kick,
Goddeess

Since all my blog posts have been song or record titles of late, and mostly Taylor Swift’s, at that, let’s continue the theme shall we?

“All I know this morning when I woke
Is I know something now, know something now I didn’t before
And all I’ve seen since 18 hours ago
Is green eyes and freckles and your smile
In the back of my mind making me feel like
I just wanna know you better know you better know you better now.”

— Taylor Swift, “Everything Has Changed”

Everything is different now. It really is. I’m not saying that in a good or a bad way, because absolutely everything in my life is causing me stress and frustration and self-doubt and anxiety up the friggin’ wazoo.

Everything changed just a little over a week ago, although it feels like an eternity spent in this perma-purgatory and I don’t know how to get out.

Not like I’ve had any free time what with the new jobby responsibility-type things. But I’ve been making sure to sneak out and have fun with a male friend whose company I enjoy.

And I’ve been apartment-hunting (online anyway) — I don’t have the energy to do this shit, not right now with the weight of the world that’s placed upon my shoulders and that’s also showing up on the damn scale.

I swear I work in the world’s worst field. I don’t have scientific proof that it produces the most alcoholics and pill-heads, but with all the pressure on us, I imagine “random drug testing” scares my peers more than “Obamacare.”

I’ve also been avoiding the world. Too much going on that I don’t want to share. And again, not in a good or a bad way. It’s just about self-preservation at this point.

I guess I just never used to care about having people in my life who “got me ahead.” Genuine friendships interested me more than anything, not strategic ones. But when you have two seconds to rub together (during your commute of course since you work all day and come home late and fall asleep on the couch in your clothes twice a week because it’s so late and you’re so goddamned exhausted), you start to realize that some of the people in your life are holding you back. And that time could be better spent gathering your mental strength instead of expending it.

And I’ve got a list as long as Santa’s in mind, and all for very different reasons.

It’s just like high school, too. You can’t break away the one you actually do like from the pack. You have to put up with the whole fam damily or none at all. Been there, done that, cut the neck out of the T-Shirt. If it’s all or nothing, I choose nothing.

And don’t get me started on some of those who operate alone. Maybe there’s something genuine there. But at the point I’m rolling my eyes so hard I see my brain, it’s time to look elsewhere and probably internally.

After all, I need rocks, not stepping stones.

I’ve decided men are the root of all pleasure and evil in life. Women are mostly bitches so I’m always pleasantly surprised when I befriend a few who are downright glorious. (You know who you are.) But men are always in the workplace, always in our minds and hearts, and the ones that are good for you never really want you and the ones that aren’t probably don’t really want you either but they don’t know how to find the door either.

Basically I’m sick of feeling like I can give my whole heart and still never be enough — didn’t produce enough work, didn’t make the decisions they wanted me to make, didn’t get born into this world thin or pretty or smart enough, or didn’t get born into this world homely or whorish enough (oh you didn’t think I’ve gotten off THAT kick, have you?).

And don’t mention feeling like I’m giving away pieces of myself and not getting a good return on my investment. I’m exhausted, people. Not to be an asshole, but I don’t care about anyone’s problems right now (save for basically three people) and I wasn’t put on this earth to entertain or distract or rescue, and I resent anyone who thinks now is the time to do that to me.

Or that anytime is the right time, really. Being stressed to the motherfucking hilt shows you right-quick what your priorities should be.

I’m also sick of feeling like I’m doing something wrong — that I’m starring in my own version of “Groundhog Day” and I just wish a hunter would come along and shoot my furry groundhog ass already because I am trapped in this perma-purgatory and I don’t know how to get out and nobody will fucking TELL ME and I don’t know if it’s because I’m just not bright enough or if I’m just not surrounded by the right people to either help me out of it or to help me reason my own way out of it.

Or distract me from it. Hence the green eyes, freckles and the smile the song talks about. Maybe the only real thing I have is what makes me forget about everything else for a few hours at a time.

“All I know is we said ‘Hello’
So dust off your highest hopes
All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed
All I know is the newfound grace
All my days I know your face
All I know since yesterday is everything has changed.”

I feel the mother of all yam fits coming on. This one is going to involve cans, and quite possibly throwing them. …

Oh Interwebs, I think when all is said and done in my life, you’ve been the only significant, lasting relationship in my life. And there’s so much I want to tell you right now, but I hope you’ll understand that I’ve got a lot to figure out.

And maybe it’s not so much as having a lot to figure out, but to accept and either turn to my advantage or to leave behind either in pieces or in its entirety.

Or to suck it up and have some damn fun already and not worry about whether it will last or whether these moments are all we’ll have.

“And I know it’s long gone
And there was nothing else I could do
And I forget about you long enough
To forget why I needed to.”

— Taylor Swift, “All Too Well”

You know me, though. I can’t blog in real time. In six months, I’ll come back with everything like it was happening right at that very moment. And I’ll be off on my next set of adventures.

In other words, I’ll have lived. In every sense.

I thought I heard a quote somewhere, that you can’t work toward something without believing you can actually achieve it. Because you never will.

Yet I wonder whether right now I’m believing too much. In everything.

“And I know it’s long gone
And that magic’s not here no more
And I might be okay
But I’m not fine at all

‘Cause there we are again, on that little town street
You almost ran the red ’cause you were looking over me
Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well.”

Universe, I’m willing to put in the proverbial blood, sweat and tears. Help me not to be scared, and to be fine no matter what happens. Better than fine, actually.

Give me your best and I will willingly accept it. And if it’s not the best, give me the sense to figure that out sooner rather than later, and the strength to do something about it.

Big day out

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

This photo may not mean much to a random observer. But to me, it’s everything.

This past week was horrible. I couldn’t smile for the life of me. I was exhausted and frustrated and disappointed and did I mention exhausted?

I was learning a new job, parting with some of my favorite responsibilities, mentoring and being mentored, being left in the dust and trying not to leave anyone in the dust, and just plain trying not to make eye contact because everyone knows my heart is affixed prominently to my sleeve.

“Don’t ask me if I’m fine, and I don’t have to lie to you and pretend” was my motto.

Then Thursday afternoon hit. And a series of text messages … and stuff taking place around the ranch … pushed me from not happy to miserable.

I know I have to slap on a smile and eventually it will come. I know that the job I had is gone, and though I really liked it, the new gig will get so much better once I figure out what the hell I’m doing and why it has to be done this way for now.

I also know that my brain was atrophying and that now there isn’t even the REMOTEST possibility of that happening because it’s GO-GO-GO time, all the time now.

And my decision — and, from what I understand, I was the only one among the ranks offered the opportunity to decide my fate — will pan out. It has to.

The sad news was that after I, say, hopped from the Titanic onto what I’m hoping is the Carpathia and not the Concordia, my best friend on the boat was handed a lifejacket and bid farewell.

I had lots of anger to deal with, for my friend and for a bunch of others. And for myself, being all too familiar with the strategy to start bailing out water by the bucketful before, say, plugging the holes.

Alas, fast-forward to Saturday, which I actually spent with said best friend and, well, I found my smile again.

The photo means more to me than I will ever be able to explain on these pages, for reasons I can’t explain but that stretch from Jupiter, Fla,, all the way to the city where the brick from that lighthouse originated, Philadelphia.

But the long and the short of it is, I went from hovering between fearing that last week would kill me and that it actually WOULDN’T and that would be even worse, to realizing that:

A) I don’t have to work for the Crackhead Brothers or the Boob Twins. And that nothing, NOTHING will ever be as bad as either of those places.

B) Jobs will come and go. But more than resume-builders, they are relationship-builders. Everyone who is important to me now, came to me through one of these adventures. And even though our time together at these places is finite, if there’s one thing they do right is put great people in a room together and we are smart enough to keep up the friendships forever.

So, I don’t know what else to say to convey what’s happening in my life right now without getting Dooced yet again. 😉 But where the lines between beginnings and endings were blurred by tears and coffee and Grey Goose, I see what … and, more importantly, WHO … is important.

The rest is simply a pile of details I’ll either forget or put into that book I’ve spent 10 years writing in my head.

I got to thinking more about the Amex layoffs. And I’ll bet there were some high-ego traders moving big money around. Making crappy bets and losing customers’ money big-time. I’ll bet they’re still employed with their lackluster track records. But the people who supported them are out on their ass, no doubt. All because no one did anything about it or, if some little minion might have mentioned six months ago that it’s the little people suffer when the big people aren’t reined in or tossed out, everyone heard but no one listened. I gather.