Two weeks.

I’ve had two weeks off since my last day, and it’s getting old.  The first week though, i went on a trip.

The second week, which is lingering here tonight, I threw out my back.  I’m thinking slipped disk here.
Sharp stabbing pain when I walk, when I sit, when I sneeze, when I turn over at night.

Not fun.



what the fuck?


I also cancelled my appointment with my psych last monday.  He had started me on Wellbutrin TWICE a day, which made me all jittery, jerky, nauseous, and man, that buzzing in the ears- shit. It was bad.

So I gave myself an unproffesional opinion and cut down to my original once daily regimen.


I do feel better.  And I dont really want to go back.  He was a dick, and said that therapy was basically a bunch of crap.  Drugs are the only way!  If everyone just took drugs then our society would be a happier one.  Um… are you serious?

And my therapist- I saw her thursday, sitting/writhing in pain on the couch, while we basically shot the shit.  It was pointless and felt like highway robbery when I handed over my co-pay.

We scheduled an appointment for monday.  I cancelled Friday.


Yeah.  Not sure what to think about that.  Not sure what to think about many things.  Like career-wise.  I think I need to take a few classes to get myself up to par.  No one is answering my emails!  Not even the lame-ass postings for receptionist.  (i’m getting a bit desperate here)

I am ok for rent for August, but am screwed if I dont get paid by September.  Something has to happen!

Oh Strange Universe, I have a feeling something is out there, I just hope it shows up soon.


I just got laid off

July 2, 2008

fucking brick wall











Yesterday. She was very sorry, you see, because they are going to loose their second house, they have to sell one of their cars, and fire the cleaning lady, and get rid of me, their sole employee.

Did I mention she is having baby #3 next month?

And she kept saying

“i’m so sorry, so sorry”
and standing there with a sad look on her face while I TRY TO MAKE HER feel better about it

“its okay, I understand you have to,” I say, trying not to cry.

“I’m so sorry” “I’m really sorry”
as my nose turns red, and my eyes water up.

“it’s ok, really, I’ll be fine”

“oh no. now I made you cry. I’m so sorry”

“stop saying that!”

Her kids were crying so she left to go soothe them, and I burst into tears as I packed up the day’s orders and made shipping labels.

I left early and went straight home to cry on the couch, and then took 4 ativans, which made me feel like a freightliner filled with bricks (and gave me a headache this morning) and watched tv until bedtime, where I swiftly fell asleep.

This morning, slightly hungover, I feel… a bit numb.

All this work I have been doing for the last couple of weeks, new thoughts of possitive thinking, new medication (he added wellbutrin to get rid of some pesky sexual side effects) and new outlook… I was doing better. I was able to sleep at night and wake up and get things done at work, and generally (not all the time) be alright.

Now I hit this wall.
I have two weeks.
I don’t know if I can handle the job search.
I don’t know if I want to work for someone
I just want to get in my car and drive and drive and drive.
I never want to work again.

I just want to go back to bed, but alas…. I am here at work… for now.


June 6, 2008

she said she didnt like to give diagnosis’s but she had to for my insurance reasons.

what was it you ask?


Major Depressive Disorder


its weird. I knew I was depressed, but hearing the diagnosis from a professional is different.


Not sure how I feel about that.


I feel sad.


the skinny

May 1, 2008

I’ve always been self concious about my body- since high school.

Before that, I was always stick thin and riding my bike for hours a day in the summers, playing softball with my dad and kickball with the dog.  Then puberty made me metabolize a bit differently and I filled out a bit.  Now I’ve always been lean and thin (family traits) and for the last 10-15 years I’ve had a BMI around 19-22. (more 22 now).

I realize some people would kill for this BMI and it doesnt come easy to most, but I find it hard to appreciate my body and love it for it’s shape and tall slenderness.  I still feel fat. I hate the cellulite dimples on my butt and thighs, I hate how my belly sides squish over the top of my freshly washed jeans.  I feel fat.


In college I took a sociology of women class, and most of the class we focused on the media and how it shapes our self images of us as we grow up.  Unconsciously. 

It has become more apparent to me as I have grown older.  But I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’m supposed to look like these girls, who undoubtedly look sickly thin and malnourished. 


It’s quite sad really.




just need to vent:

April 22, 2008


there is nothing worse than having a block.


i have a client, we agreed to a project, i’ve dont similar projects for him twice before successfully.


now, i can’t get past this one.


starting to feel incompetant.



i hate this.  i feel like drinking a bottle of wine.
oh yeah, just did, minus one glass for politeness on my partner…


off for another try. 


April 9, 2008


I can’t stand when people yell.

Not the “i’m over here!” or “Lookout for that runaway bus headed your way!”

that’s usually ok with me.


It’s the angry yelling, the fighting yelling, and the irrational yelling.

It makes me want to crawl into a hole and make it all go away.


Now you would think I grew up in a loud, yelling-filled household, with screaming parents, slamming doors and tension in the air.


It was quite the opposite, though there must have been tension.  It was quiet, calm and calculative.

Voices were rarely, if ever, raised, and replaced with a stern look, or a disapointed sigh (sighs are another day’s therapy session)

I remember having a yelling fight with an ex boyfriend of mine years ago, I believe it to be the one and only yelling fight of my life.
I don’t think I have recovered from that.  I do remember feeling relief at getting it off my chest, but to no avail, as that happens when you try to talk to a brick wall (a.k.a. bipolar pot head off his medication-remind me to cover that on another day…)

Instead of yelling, or raising my voice, I was taught as a child (for lack of better work… maybe shown by example?) that not saying anything was a safer route.  That way no one’s feelings got hurt, no neighbors would know that the picturesque Better Homes and Gardens house was not the fairy tale it should be.


Keep it in, don’t loose control, dont loose your composure.

When you disagree, meekly state your point in a mild, casual manner.

When you point is trampled over, ignored, or seen as silliness, smile and agree with your husband/father/brother/man/boss/boyfriend because he knows best.



sarcastic, but straight-from-the-fifties serious.