Caterwauling

Is the Sanders “revolution” still a thing? 

I don’t get it. I mean I’m voting blue no matter what. But this guy is one bird away from his “Broadcast News” moment. 

I’m about two away myself. 

My new babies, sitting on about a dozen eggs …

I hate everything about this day. 

Items of note: Deadlines (to me) blown, a forensic specialist scheduling a date to copy the contents of my phone (yes all of them), another problem child about to be added to my Calgon-take-me-away list, and a capable and competent friend getting let go. 

And that ain’t the half of it. 

No, I’m not referring to the Ben Affleck meme where he’s zoning out to the Simon & Garfunkel hit. 

I’m talking about when I get to the point where I don’t have anything to say that will do a situation any favors. 

I thought of a friend who would appreciate the story I can’t talk about right now. And then I figured that it would just turn into a mutual masturbation of complaining. And my capacity for compassion for anyone but myself right now is at about a negative 2 on the sliding scale. 

The madder I get, the quieter I get. And the kinder I get. Which may sound weird but when you’ve been hurt for the thousandth time while you’ve done nothing but sacrifice time, pride and privacy for the greater good, well. I could implode or I could show kindness to humans and animals who have been shown even less. 

Every thing moves us to our next levels. I intend to level up. And I suspect it will be pretty lonely up there. Which is pretty much exactly how I want it right now. 

It’s one thing to discover people aren’t who you think they are. 

I can deal with that.  

And have. 

And am. 

It’s just the confirming of who you suspected they were all along … when you were praying to be proven wrong … that’s far from pleasant. 

And the trying to pretend that you didn’t arrive at that particular epiphany is the real pisser. 

How I’m down two pounds this week is a miracle. Starved myself four out of seven days, yes. But enjoyed wine, Rita’s frozen custard, Bud’s Fish and Chicken  (specifically the fries. Zomg), and way too many Party Tizer Dippin Chips. 

Anyway. If I’ve been a little cranky lately, it’s because I’ve been HUNGRY. 

When something shady happens, and the Weakest Link is the lone connection to the shady event, it makes you wonder. Since god knows they didn’t work on any of your shit that you needed help on. But the thought of them doing anything “extra” is too ludicrous to even comprehend. And you could ask but they’re on vacation day 32 so far in 2016. Just like they were the last time something shady happened that connected these two parties. 

I’m so bummed.

I had a friend in my work building back in 2009. We started here at the same time.

We both left and both returned at the same time in 2014.

Today he told me Idiot Landlord shit-canned him. His last day is Thursday.

Reminds me of the joyful people who shit-canned me the day after Christmas so many years ago. Way to celebrate Good Friday/Easter weekend.

These fools want to raise the rent 20%. But losing my buddy will make it suck 20% more. I should think that alone would justify a discount.

I’m trying very hard not to think about the Weakest Link on Team Awesome. How the guy who manages my building and removes my trash is more cooperative, thoughtful, hard-working, eager to complete a project and think a few steps ahead, make someone’s life easier, or basically just be pleasant and valuable in general that that toadstool who makes it a point to tell me that “they are to be told if they are needed past a certain hour” (cough cough FIVE P.M.) but that shit don’t come out when they are cc’ing the higher-paid set.

In any event. It makes me sad when people love their jobs and try very hard to do excellent work get let go, while others who aren’t worth much more than dog shit on a shoe will “stick” around forever and stink up the place.

The office landlord paid a visit today. He had prospective tenants in tow. 

That was fun. I guess we are moving. 

I hadn’t thought about not being there in that building. It was seven years ago on March 24 that I started working across the hall. 

I got to thinking of the weight I was at back then. At least 10 pounds lighter. Maybe closer to 12 or 15. 

I want to get back there before we go. Hell, before my birthday would be even better. 

That would be a good, full round circle. 

I hope we can stay in town. It’s festival season and I would miss walking out and seeing things like this (from today’s Savor the Avenue celebration) …

I know a couple of people who vent about their spouses. Personal things. Things an outsider should never hear.  Things I need to scrub from my memory when I see these perfectly lovely people on social media or IRL. 

I also know other people who would rather walk on their lips than say a bad word about their better half. There’s one couple in particular that’s splitting up and honest to God, they are each other’s No. 1 reference. They want only the best for each other.

I am usually in the latter category. Don’t get me wrong. I can throw more shade than a beach umbrella. But generally I do want everyone to find their happiness. Oftentimes I’m just over the moon that the pressure is off of me to provide it. 

But I genuinely, honestly pray that the asshole who lives above me dies a violent, horrible, long, slow and extremely painful death. 

I’m also so exhausted by worrying about my mom constantly and not being able to make her OCD and in chronic pain self happy, that I really think my limits have found their limits. 

I normally don’t have much to say on either topic. I just thank God I’m alive and ok and that things are better than I probably deserve. 

But damn. Between upstairs and across the hall, I got no energy to deal with everyone and everyone else that was put on this earth to sap the best of me dry. 

So. I don’t want to be one of “those people” who can’t keep their trap shut about the choices they made. But I also need a minute off from the things I’ve chosen (it’s a better perspective than feeling like it’s not a choice) because I didn’t choose to feel like crap. 

I’m just so afraid to tell the universe I want a change because it might be a bad one. But I’m even more afraid of what will happen if shit stays exactly the same. What’s going to change is me and I’m terrified it won’t be for the better. And I won’t be able to get what I lost back. Even if I didn’t want it anymore while I still had it. 

“Take a long hard look at my face

Take away the things I can’t replace 

Take my heart, go on take it away

I’ve got nothing to say.”

— Grace Potter, “Things I Never Needed”

I’m getting Stewie a bath today. Seventy-five bucks. I figure I wash him once a year. Last year’s trip led to a $300 repair after the guy broke my wiper transmission.  But I figured that was the universe getting me back for not being able to tip the guy the year before. 

I was debating handing cash to the guy I think I stiffed. But hell if I would know if it’s the same one. I remember the guy who broke the car though. He isn’t here. 

I was telling mom about it. She said the same thing after i told her how terrible I felt after Maddie got sick and I didn’t even notice. She said you just do better the next time. 

So the guy today will get a good tip. And Kadie goes to the vet tomorrow. She’s lost some weight and is starting to pull out her own fur. Just like her momma. 

Well. I’m not literally yanking out my hair. Just metaphorically over all that’s going on and my utter inability to deal with it. Maybe it’s good that Dish Network is losing Bravo and CNBC. I can’t hide in reality tv and work anymore. 

But I did lose another pound this week. Go, me. 

This is me doing better this time.