Tuesday, December 5, 2017

The Fragility of Human Existence

Do you ever think about how utterly frail and flimsy the human body is? Like, what soft, squishy, meat sacks we are? How even a tiny problem in a vital area can mean lights-out?

I've been contemplating this a lot today... mainly because I nearly choked to death on my own spit.


Nearly. Choked. To. DEATH.

On my own spit.

I guess I just breathed wrong? I don't know. But it was mildly terrifying and resulted in a 5 minute coughing fit. It felt like I was drowning.

I am so special.

Image result for choked on my own spit meme

Monday, December 4, 2017

Is 'Identity' Even a Thing?

"You're both the fire and the water that extinguishes it. You're the narrator, the protagonist, and the sidekick. You're the storyteller and the story told. You are somebody's something, but you are also your you." 
-Turtles All the Way Down, by John Green

I have trouble locating myself... Or, rather, I have trouble locating my self.

Who am I?

What am I?

Am I?

When trying to define myself, I cannot seem to come up with anything besides explanations of me relative to or in relation to other things and people. I am a wife. I am a daughter. I am a sister. I am an IT worker. I like watching crime documentaries with my husband (I don't ever watch them on my own). I like to camp with my dad (I would likely NEVER camp alone). I like just hanging out with my friends. The only thing I can ever come up with that I like independently from other people or from roles I find myself in is that I like to read. But really, I think all the reading is just a way to escape... but I love it any way. I don't seem to have any interests of my own, you know?

Then I think that I could maybe define myself in terms of the sort of person I am. But that either ends up being very vague/general characteristics, or things that vary from day to day or even moment to moment: I am funny (sometimes). I am kind (almost always...). I am smart (except when I'm clearly an idiot). I am empathetic (except toward people that I think are assholes).

Maybe this is the case for everyone... maybe nobody has an actual concrete definition of their 'self'. It just feels like I ought to. Like I don't know who I am. I'm just sort of going with the flow.

When I get really caught up in this question, my thoughts start to get a little weirdly organized... like I'm narrating the story of my life in my head. I'm not exactly living my life, it's just a story I'm telling myself. And the story is never in present tense... always past or future:

I walked down the hall toward my office. I didn't want to be here, but I didn't want to be anywhere else either...


I will go home and I will find a way to relax. The apartment will be a mess, so once I get my head sorted out then I'll do some shores. Everything will be just fine.

I just feel sort of 'outside' of myself. I suppose it could just be mild dissociation. That's apparently a thing with BPD. It doesn't usually get very bad. Then again, now that I'm really thinking about it, I think the times it has been really bad tend to line up with my self-harm. Perhaps I should mention this to my therapist.

Whatever the case, the story I'm telling me about myself could use some work. Definitely short on character development.

It's turtles all the way down.

Friday, December 1, 2017

Alcohol is Complicated

Seriously. There are so many bad things you can say about alcohol... its affects on your mind and your actions and your health. That it can become a crutch. That it really doesn't mix well with depression and/or mental health medications.

But, man. It can also be a gift. An escape from the inside of your head. A way to get a break from near-crippling anxiety.

The line, however, between loosening up and having a good time and potentially damaging yourself/being an idiot/ending up with a murderous emotional hangover...  that line is rather thin. And basically invisible when you're actually drinking. This can cause some problems. And frequently does, for me at least. Most of the time I'm fine and I can keep my drinking within reasonable limits. Sometimes though... I just lose control. I go way overboard. And this has two very shitty results: First, I always hate myself the next day. Like, more than usual. I feel ashamed and stupid. And second, it really, really upsets my husband. Which I understand. Because it's foolish and potentially dangerous. Also, because I apparently say really shitty stuff to him when I'm blackout drunk.

I did it last night. I don't know why. I don't even really know how.... I thought I was being pretty good about spacing out my drinks and everything. Maybe I didn't eat enough. Or maybe it's because the effects of alcohol can be a little unpredictable for a mentally unstable and heavily medicated person. Or maybe both. In any case, I screwed up. Again. And I feel horrible about it and about myself. Also, my husband is pretty upset with me... which always makes me feel worthless. I apologized, of course, but I know it will take him a while to get over it. I know this because, like I said, I've done this before. Because I am an asshat.

Sometimes I think that maybe I just shouldn't drink alcohol at all anymore. Because no matter how long I go doing just fine, I eventually have one of these episodes again. But then I think of all the times that I don't go overboard and how much fun my friends and I have knocking back a few beers and shooting the shit... and I don't want to not have those times. I like to cut loose and get silly from time to time. It's fun. It's therapeutic. But getting puking-blackout-drunk and calling your spouse nasty names is beyond shitty. For loads of reasons.

So, yeah. It's probably true that I shouldn't drink with the meds I'm on. And it's probably true that if I cannot consistently control my consumption (that was inadvertently weirdly alliterative) that I just shouldn't ever drink. That sounds like the most reasonable course of action.

It also sounds like a total bummer.

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Mindfulness Meditation/CBT: Apparently not bunk

So, for the past month (since the unfortunate episode) I've been attempting mindfulness meditation as a means of improving my state of mind, decreasing stress and depression, and generally lessening the urge to crawl in a hole. I suppose, more specifically, I've been practicing mindfulness-based cognitive behavioral therapy. It's supposed to help with the ability to become aware of incoming thoughts/feelings and accept them without attaching or reacting to them. Basically, it's the zen art of turning nasty thoughts and feelings into water off a duck's back.

And here's the thing-


Image result for mindfulness meme

I have to admit that, initially, I didn't expect much other than possibly being a little calmer and more content while meditating/doing the mindfulness stuff. However (color me surprised), I've been noticing an overall improvement in my mood as well as my ability to prevent 'unpleasant stimuli' from pushing me over the edge.

I'm very interested now in seeing if there is a therapist around here that is experienced in Dialectical Behavior Therapy. It apparently has 'mindfulness' as the core and was developed for treating people with BPD. This is a long shot, since no one has ever commented on this blog, but anybody out there know anything about Dialectical Behavior Therapy? Good? Bad?

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

So Much Failing

Well, it's been a heck of a week.

I've been trying really hard to maintain a healthy, happy attitude as much as possible: doing mindfulness exercises, breathing exercises, cutting back on my alcohol consumption, etc.

It's only helped a little. Possibly less than I thought, though, seeing as how about 15 minutes into my last session my therapist said, "How about we just pick this up in 3 weeks?"

I did not, and still don't, know how to take this. Did I just fail at therapy? It certainly seems so. Maybe she thought I didn't feel like talking or being there or something. Or maybe she just gave up on me for the day. I don't know. I've been trying really hard not to take it personally or to overthink it. But, really, how do you not?

Also, I recently applied for a different position in my department. Last week I had an initial interview via phone and was told that I'd know by either Friday or Monday whether I would get a second, in-person, interview. Yesterday was Monday. The day came and went and I didn't hear anything. Part of me assumed that meant that I didn't get an interview, but I had really thought that since the person doing the interviews (we'll call her Susan) works in the same office suite as me that she'd actually say something to me one way or the other. This morning, a young man came in and said he had an interview with Susan for the such-and-such position. And there I was, having to play happy greeter to this fella and getting him where he needed to be... and that's how I found out I didn't get a second interview. Awkward.

So, yeah. The past few days have been less than awesome. I'm trying not to dwell on it.

I don't have anything else to say right now. Hope your week is going better than mine. /hugs

Wednesday, October 25, 2017


Call it what you will--backsliding, relapsing, falling off the wagon--but however you word it, it sucks. And I did it. Last night, I cut myself. I haven't done that in years and years. I don't know what brought me back to that point... yesterday was a shitty day, but I've had way worse. After work, I inexplicably flipped from anxious to angry. I wasn't angry about anything in particular... just vaguely angry. Perhaps, dwelling on the lack of control I have over myself and my life is what did it. Or maybe the outer pain was functioning as a distraction from the inner pain. I really don't know. It's a bit terrifying that you can do a thing (a bad and drastic thing, no less) without any conscious motivation. Talk about a lack of control. 😖

This morning, I feel frightened and ashamed. I'm worried about how to hide the cuts. Especially from the husband. I think he might get mad. And even if he were worried/sad instead of angry, I wouldn't know how to explain myself to him. He's the type of person who needs rational explanations for things. Any conversation with him about my emotional issues tends to be exhausting and not helpful for either of us. He's just not wired that way. And I'm a nut-job.

I was reading some articles on a BPD support blog yesterday and there was one that mentioned the tendency to self-harm... surely, especially since it wasn't new information to me, reading about that sort of thing wasn't enough to put the thought/urge in my head. Right? I don't think I'm that impressionable. And besides, it wasn't the first thing I'd read about self-harm since the last time I was cutting all those years ago.

But it does make me wonder: how do you tell the difference between addressing a problem/working through it and unhealthily swelling on negative thoughts/feelings. I know my doctor recommended me keeping a journal to 'get it all out' and whatnot, but what if all this self-examination is just making me focus too much on my illness? What if I'm just digging the hole deeper? No... surely I'd notice. Right? But then again, I'm not sure if I can tell that it's helping. Perhaps it's too soon to tell. Or maybe I'm not writing enough or as frequently as I ought to.

I just feel like total shit right now. I'm ashamed of what I did and I don't feel like there's anyone I can talk to about it. I don't want to call my therapist and make an extra appointment. Besides, what would I say to her that I haven't said here? I don't know why I did it. I feel terrible about it and I don't have any desire to keep doing it.

I feel lonely, but at the same time, I want to be alone right now. I want to get away, to be honest. From what and to where, I have no idea. I just need a break. From everything. A time-out, you know? Maybe I should at least take a day or two off work. Maybe that would be enough to help some.

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

So... Today is a PANIC Day...

As a general rule, I have much more trouble with depression than with anxiety. But sometimes, on days like today, my anxiety spikes for no discernible reason. My heart races, I can't focus, and everything just feels unbearably overwhelming. I also tend to sort of bite/chew the sides of my tongue when this happens... which makes for an annoyingly sore mouth.

It seems like I ought to be able to point to something, however small, that trips these 'fits'. If I could do that, perhaps I could address it and calm myself down. Unfortunately, that's not the case. I just want to run away... from what or to where, I have no idea. Just away. Just not whatever this is. Or wherever this is.

Having this feeling at work is extra shitty. I'm on edge and every task just seems bigger somehow. I've got a few minutes to myself right now, so I thought that sort of 'talking it out' here on my blog would help. It doesn't really... at least not much. Probably because I know I have other things that I need to get to soon. I just can't wait for this day to be over. I can feel my heartbeat in my neck and the accumulating tension is seriously causing issues to my 'Captain Ed Shoulder'... I'll tell you that story in detail later, but the short version is that it's an old injury that flares up and causes me a lot of pain sometimes. This is one of those times.

I need a masseuse.

And maybe a drink.

Maybe I'll take a book and go to the deli after work. Just chill out, read, and have a beer or two. It might take the edge off. Hopefully.

Well, if there's anyone reading this, you're probably bored to death. I'll spare you any further suffering and go back to work.

Monday, October 16, 2017

How Much is Too Much?

I've been trying to decide whether and at what point I should cut my losses and quit this job. I'm so incredibly fed up, but at the same time it's really complicated. I do not dislike my work. Pretty much all of my coworkers are fabulous and I love them dearly. However, the job I was hired for and the job that I am now doing are RADICALLY different... and, of course, the pay has not changed. I know money isn't everything, but when you go from being something very much like a typical Receptionist/Secretary to something more like a Business Operations Manager... well, according to GlassDoor.com, for this area, the average secretarial salary is $30,186 and the average business & operations manager salary is $71,427.

That's a pretty huge difference. More than double.

The changes to my job have been gradual over the past few years and mostly due to changes in staff. Firstly, I report directly to our VP and within a few months of me starting here the VP retired and was replaced by another with rather different ideas about my position. Second, we were without a Director for nearly 2 years (it can be hard to get jobs approved and posted when you work for the state) and so the duties that would have belonged to that position were pretty much divvied up between the VP, the Assistant Director, and me. Next, we lost our Assistant Director, so his stuff was then, of course, shifted onto the VP and me.  And THEN they decided to save money by hiring for an 'area manager' instead of a new Assistant Director... and that position does not do all the higher-end business crap that the previous position did, so most of all that remains mine.

I went from answering phones and doing standard filing and billing to getting quotes, dealing with vendors, researching and arguing the finer points of certain state contracts with said vendors, researching tax law and the applicability of certain taxes to certain types of purchases we make, handling most of the department's HR junk, and the list goes on.

Again, I do not dislike my job. But I do dislike being taken advantage of. I do dislike having a boss who seems to have no concept (and no interest) in what or how much I do to keep this department running.

I was on the phone with our Purchasing department the other day trying to iron out some issues concerning a vendor that had gone off state contract and the lady said to me, "You know this is your boss's job, right?"

Yes. Yes, I do.

But, as I mentioned in my post on 3/29/17, I have crap self-esteem and tend to work very hard at going above and beyond because I want people to like me. Because I need external validation. And, while I don't get it from my actual boss, I DO get it from other folks in the department as well as folks that I interact with from other departments. And I need it. I know it's unhealthy. I know that my self-worth should not be determined by other people. But I can't help it. So, I work and I work and I work and I take on additional duties and I try not to complain. Because everybody likes working with someone who will go out of their way to help you, whether it's their job or not. Or, perhaps, everyone just likes taking advantage of someone like that. I don't know.

Anyway, I approached my boss about all this (and a 3-ring-binder report about myself, my duties, and how the position had changed since I started... he like facts and numbers) about 8 months ago and he acted like what I was saying was reasonable. Acted like he was interested in helping me out: changing my title, job description, etc.

A few months went by and I brought it up again. He said he was trying to figure out how to go about justifying the changes to the higher-ups so they would approve it... said my job description already sort of included just about everything I do. Of course, the state job descriptions are written VERY broadly and can include an awful lot of stuff depending on how you read them. So, I pulled the job description of the position most like mine in another department and researched their pay (if you work for the state and make over a certain amount, there is a webpage that lists your name, agency, title, and salary). I presented this to my boss. He thought it was 'something we could work with'.

A few more months went by and my boss mentioned something about being concerned about my stress level. He asked what, if anything, he could do to help. I said he could pay me more appropriately. The brief conversation that followed made it pretty apparent that that wasn't going to happen. I suppose he had just sort of been stringing me along to avoid any sort of confrontation.

I was flabbergasted.

And highly PISSED.

Part of me wants to push back all of my higher-level duties to him and say it's not my job. Part of me wants to quit and watch the world burn down around his ears since he obviously doesn't know (or care) what or how much I do.

And part of me thinks that I ought to just keep plugging along because I love my coworkers and I don't actually dislike my work. What if I left, got more money, and then had to spend every day working with a bunch of assholes? Would it be worth it for a little more financial security? On the other hand, are friendly coworkers worth breaking your back for pennies a day?

I feel a little bad that this is just a big, long post of nothing but me bitching about work... but since no one reads this blog anyway, I guess there's not actually anyone to feel bad for. But I'm good at feeling bad for no reason. It's kind of my thing.

Anyway, I've just come through a month of yuck because they've changed my meds around... perhaps I'll be less angry once I've been on this new one a little longer. Then again, I don't think being angry and depressed for a legitimate reason is something that you can be medicated for. Perhaps though, the medication will help my regular craziness enough that I can handle the real-life things that cause me to feel shitty. Or at least handle them a little better.

Or maybe I should play the lottery... that could solve some issues. :P


Lately, I've been reading a lot of Phillip Roth and Christopher Moore. Weird combination, I know. Good stuff though.

Don't really have a new favorite beer to hype... been drinking bourbon lately. Maker's Mark. Good stuff. But not as good as Woodford.


One for the boss. (Man, I love Jonathan Coulton)

Monday, April 24, 2017

Motivation or lack thereof

I've found myself repeating the same sort of thing over and over in various conversations lately:

I just need to locate some motivation.

I don't know why I'm so unmotivated lately.

Heck, I can't even get motivated to watch TV--and that's what a person does when they have no motivation!

Why am I so unmotivated lately?

Now, all this could be just a product of needing my meds adjusted or something, but it's caused me to spend a fair bit of time just contemplating motivation; what it is, where it comes from, if all sources of motivation are healthy (or at least healthier than total apathy), whether just being 'generally motivated' is possible or if one can only be motivated for or toward particular things. Certainly, there are times when I've been very motivated to go for a hike and not very motivated to clean house. But there have also been times when I felt what I would call 'generally motivated'--up for doing both the things that I want to do and the things that I need to do. Are normal people more likely to have this general sort of motivation? Even if somewhat begrudgingly?


So, as often happens, I have begun a post on one day and then come back to it later. At this point, I'm feeling a tiny bit more motivated than last week, but not much. But I'm definitely out of whatever motivation I had to contemplate motivation in any philosophical sort of way. So you lucked out there.


The husband and I flew back home for his little brother's wedding over the weekend. It was a truly lovely (and mercifully short) ceremony followed by a full dinner, music/dancing, and an open bar. I had Woodford and coke. It was good times.

This post is going absolutely nowhere. I'm gonna go ahead and cut my losses...

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Dinner and a show; the weirdness one can see from the deli

On Monday, the deli manager for the evening shift glanced out the window and saw something both horrible and fabulous: his customers were being treated to a streaker show that started across the street at the University. It happened like this (and it's worth noting that the deli has basically floor to ceiling un-shaded windows facing both the main street/campus and the parking lot):

A young man walks out of the dorm across the street and starts wandering around the building... bare-ass naked. He feels and hugs the wall of the building. He's definitely tripping balls. Two other guys walk out of the building carrying some clothes and shoes. The abandoned coverings of their apparent friend. They see their naked buddy and attempt to catch up with him. He isn't having it. He runs flat-out across the main road; heading right for the deli. Naked man then proceeds to do a couple laps around the deli and the GM poked his head out and had the following exchange with him:

"Whatchya' doin' buddy?", asked the GM.

"GOIN' FOR A RUN!", replied naked guy, without losing speed.

"Okay then..."

Naked guy ultimately continued down the street and it took a number of cop cars and about an hour and a half to catch and remove him.

This is only one of many interesting shows that the diners at the deli have been treated to. There was also:

1. Puppy getting hit by car and sobbing women holding said dying puppy and wailing
2. Man dragging small daughter down the street on a dog leash (deli workers called the cops).
3. Girl getting T-boned pulling out of the parking lot and the following field sobriety test, conducted about three feet from of of the deli windows, because she was quite drunk. (I want to point out here that she did not get drunk at the deli... the staff would not load someone up and then let them drive. She had come in that way and they thought she was on foot because she lives right down the street.) One patron said of the event, "Man! I didn't know lunch here came with a free live show of COPS!"
4. An 'initiation' celebration by the local Red Hat club... 15 women (several were octogenarians) in crazy garb, with wands, singing 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun'. (I really wish I had been there for this one)

So there you have it, not only does the deli have great food, craft beer, and trivia night, but it also has loads of local color! Ha!

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

I'm no good at this

So, because insurance companies tend to, well, suck eggs, I had to go without my Adderall for about a week. I probably don't need to tell you what a mess I was... suffice it to say, I was rocking back at forth between exhausted and SQUIRREL!!!! at a rather alarming rate. I also could not get myself to sit down and write in this blog at all. Of course, if you're watching the dates on these posts then you'll already have noticed that it's been somewhat more than a week since I posted anything... Turns out this journaling thing is harder to keep up with than I initially anticipated. Most days, I just don't feel like I have anything to say. In this age of social media, however, it seems like EVERYONE  always has SOMETHING to say... so maybe I'm just not trying hard enough. Or I'm overthinking it. Or maybe most of the stuff people say isn't actually worth saying.

But who am I to say?


Did you see what I did there? :P


I've been trying to read more this year. I mean, I generally read a fair bit, but I'm trying to really up my numbers. Mostly because I got sucked into a 'reading challenge 2017' sort of thing by some friends. So far this year I've read (or re-read):

The Handmaid's Tale
Slaughterhouse 5
The Screwtape Letters
Girl, Interrupted
Interview with the Vampire
And the Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks
The Last Girls
Good Omens
Crime and Punishment
The Perks of Being a Wallflower

And I'm currently reading Contact by Carl Sagan. And no, I don't have anything even close to resembling a social life.

I'll leave you, for now, with another Joke of the Week from the deli:

Q: Why doesn't a pencil have an eraser at both ends?
A: Because there'd be no point!

You're welcome. :P

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

I hadn't noticed...

So, I told you about my apartment not being particularly nice, right? Yeah. I noticed last night that there is a hair painted into the outside of our bathroom door upstairs. I've lived here a few years and somehow never noticed it before. But I suppose most folks don't spend a lot of time staring at the outside of their bathroom door. Especially if they have 2 bathrooms. I stood there and stared at it for what was probably a strange amount of time, but I couldn't help myself. Whose hair was it? Was it the person painting? Was it someone else, a cleaner or something, who came through while the paint was still wet? What color had it been before being painted white?

I can't even begin to explain why I was so entranced by this stupid hair. Maybe I should have been grossed out by it or aggravated by the shoddy paint work... but I was just weirdly curious. Perhaps this says something about me. Perhaps, that I am so closely examining the fact that I examined the hair says even more.

Image result for what the fuck is that meme

Also, the bags under my eyes aren't as big as they used to be. I'm not sure when this happened. I just noticed it while looking at an old picture on FaceBook. It makes no sense, really, because I certainly don't sleep any better than I did before. And I don't think I'm considerably less stressed or any better hydrated. It just sort of happened. I suppose this is a good thing, but I don't find myself particularly excited about it. Probably because I still consider the rest of my face to be a bit of a train wreck. I suppose I could wear makeup... that might help. But it's just such a pain to deal with. And it's expensive. And I just feel like I shouldn't have to cover my face in order to be okay with it. Even if it's the way I feel. Thoughts?

This may just be the most bizarre and boring blog post in the history of history... but I'm supposed to write even when I feel I don't have anything to say...

So, yeah, my apologies. I'll try to be more interesting next time.


Thursday night is trivia night at the deli. I go every week. Team or no team. I don't know why I like it so much. But it's always a blast. Part of it probably has to do with the guys who run trivia night- they are hilarious. And part of it probably has to do with me being a big 'ole geek. And, perhaps, part of it has to do with it being $1 PBR night.  ;)

It's good times.

Well, I figure at this point it might be advisable to give you a little information on myself... If you're reading this then you ought to have a little idea up front of what type of crazy I am. Besides, as I've said, my therapist recommended 'journaling', so it might be a good idea to give a little time to my madness. ;)

I have ADD (formerly ADHD) and Borderline Personality Disorder. The National Institute of Mental Health defines BPD as "a serious mental disorder marked by a pattern of ongoing instability in moods, behavior, self-image, and functioning. These experiences often result in impulsive actions and unstable relationships. A person with BPD may experience intense episodes of anger, depression, and anxiety that may last from only a few hours to days." I have a seriously distorted and unstable self-image/sense of self, I have abandonment issues, crazy mood swings that can come and go in a matter of hours or even minutes, I struggle almost daily with feelings of emptiness and lack of purpose (sometimes even lack of self... that one's a little hard to describe), and occasionally I have massive dissociative events (these are related to the lack of self thing). The NIMH also says that studies show that folks with BPD may see anger in an emotionally neutral face and have a stronger reaction to words with negative meanings than people who do not have the disorder. That is definitely true. So, yeah, not super fun. I manage though. And we've just about got my medication cocktail sorted, which helps immensely.

I suppose I should tell you about how these symptoms reveal themselves in my daily life, specific issues, events, etc. Hmmm. Maybe tomorrow.

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Journaling... Or something.

My therapist says I should 'journal', preferably every day. She thinks it will be good for me. I don't have to write about anything in particular; just write whatever is on my mind. So, here I am, at the deli again, writing again, not actually having anything to say again. Bless your heart for being here.

I have to confess, I don't really feel like I have much to say today. Elysian Space Dust IPA is just as gross as you'd expect an IPA to be. I'm drinking the Pluff Mud again. The deli's groan-worthy joke of the week (posted on a chalk board next to the chalk board dedicated to the current beer menu) is:

Q: What did the baby corn say to the mama corn?

A: Where's the pop corn?

Yeah. They're always that fabulously terrible.

Okay, so quick confession: I may manage to write everyday, but it won't be a post a day. Because, despite the short length of this post so far, I'm actually on day two. Bright side though, they tapped a new beer at the deli and it's surprisingly tasty. It's 21st Amendment Brewery's 'Hell or High Watermelon'. I have to confess, I did not have high hopes for a watermelon beer, but it's actually pretty good. Very summery.

Anyway, I had my yearly review at work today. It went well. Woohoo. And such. I've always been a geek-tastic, over-achiever so evaluations have never stressed me much. Hmmm. I think that makes me sound like a douche... I don't mean to. I mostly do well at work because I'm socially awkward and have no life. And I'm insecure and need affirmation. So I work harder than someone who has, like, any self esteem at all. Because I need someone else to tell me I'm worth something. Whatever. Is what it is.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Some Observations

The fella in apartment D sounds like he's dying. Any time we're out on our respective patios at the same time, I can hear him coughing. It sounds asbsolutely terrible. I don't know if he is old or young or somewhere in between (I've never seen him) but he can't be healthy. I should probably take a moment here to tell you a little about where I live. It's a little apartment building; just a row of 7 or 8 little townhouses is all. Behind each one is a small 'patio'. And by patio, I mean a concrete slab about 6ft by 10ft with an old brown wooden fence around it such that you can't see out.

So this man, he has a cough that I would not hesitate to call terrifying. I hope, sincerely, that when he is out on his patio it's not for a smoke like when I'm on my patio. I mean, this cough, it's reminiscent of the last part of one's stay at one of those old TB hospitals. So, like I've said, I've never seen the guy... And that's the other thing about our little block of town homes; I don't currently know ANY of my neighbors and there are only a couple that I could recognize by sight (and one by sound, clearly). It's not a very social place to live. We're right across the street from campus, on the cheap side, so the neighbors are either transient college types or folks who can't afford to live someplace better. I long for the day when another pair of cheap-asses like myself and my husband move in. Someone older than 20 who also can form a coherent sentence. It will be glorious.

The cool thing about where we live though is the deli across the street. They have pretty good food and 6 beer taps; 4 of which are usually tasty craft beers. And they play good music. Stuff like The Band, Nathaniel Rateliff and the Nightsweats, The Lumineers, and Hozier. I'm there now. Here now? Whatever. Anyway, it's a nice place to just hang out. And they know me here. And if I have too many beers, well, it's only like fifty feet to my apartment. Sometimes some of the college crowd here is a little shitty, but usually not. Like, a moment ago, these girls came out (I'm on the patio so I can smoke), and one of them was saying something about how someone was too stupid to count change... I glanced in the large picture window by my table and the girl working the register is not only new, but clearly just a high school student. Give her a break. Besides, by the look of you, I'm amazed you bitches aren't "too stupid" to tie your fucking shoes. Just sayin'.

At the moment, I'm drinking a Holy City Pluff Mudd Porter. You should try it. I like dark beer, but it's very drinkable even if that isn't usually your thing.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

So here we are...

Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them. –AA Milne

If even one person reads this blog, I'll be amazed. And probably also hugely embarrassed. Mortified, even. I suppose I'm doing it mostly for myself. But you, Reader, if you're there, may find something of interest to you in amongst all the general random weirdness. Perhaps you'll even find something that's helpful to you. Something you can connect to. I'd like to think you will. 

Even if I might not like to think about you actually existing...