Dear hope, f*ck off.

After my initial tears, I called my Mom.

We both agree this sucks and he sucks and it allllll sucks.

When I said “If this is all some part of an elaborate ruse I’m going to be really pissed.”

Mom accidentally brought the hammer down and said, “oh honey, don’t do THAT to yourself.” And with that, I firmly have told hope to fuck off.

I don’t want it. Hope. I want it to ball itself up into a crumpled heap and leave me alone.

So yeah, fuck off hope. You fuck right off.



A big box of nothing.

I gave Boyfriend his Christmas presents when he got home from work Christmas Eve morning and then again on Christmas morning.

I gave him a paw print ornament from Puppy (we made it together, she hated every second) and some shower stuff Christmas Eve. Then Christmas I gave him a couple movies and two new pairs of shoes that he was wanting.

He gave me nothing.

Technically, he gave me some Disneyland trading pins a few months back as they arrived, but those were because he thought I would like them (he’s been ridiculously into those damned pins). He claims that the stuff he ordered for Christmas haven’t arrived yet. Which means they are probably more damned pins.

I don’t collect pins.

I wanted an engagement ring. I want him to admit that he loves me so much that he’s over his other marriage and his problems with “the institution of marriage” and that he wants me to be his wife.

But that seems not to be.

I guess he did get me something for Christmas, a continued sadness that I won’t be getting to marry the man that I love and the complex that I’m not good enough for him. I know he feels bad that he had to go to work and leave me crying after we talked today, but you know what? Let him. If I have to live with the truth that he doesn’t want to be married (again) then he has to live with the truth that it hurts me and makes me sad.

It’s not right and it’s not fair but it’s the way it is. He’s not leaving me, I’m not leaving him. I just may remain unmarried in my lifetime. There are worse things. We have a life together and we love each other. The only things missing are engagement ring, wedding bands and a wedding.

Even though I know I deserve those things, I also know that I can live without them. And it looks like I will continue to do so.

Perfect Day Off

Returning to work in retail has been so wonderful for me, hard on my body but honestly, I’ve felt so much better about myself lately!

My calves are aching all the time, the bottom of my feet feel bruised, but I don’t hate going to work. Which feels so good! That being said, working retail during the holidays is less than fun most days.

People forget themselves, they forget their manners and they forget to be patient. But it’s alright, as long as you don’t work too long.

I worked 6 days straight. My body was screaming, but I packed a bag and went to Pole class after work and it was glorious! I finally executed a nemesis move, The Mermaid, which everyone else can do (it’s a Level 1 basic move and I’ve hated it always) and now I CAN TOO! I came home, took a bath and cuddled with Puppy.

Then this morning, sleeping past the alarm and relaxing most of the morning, lovely. But I had to get something done, so I BAKED!

I made my Grandma’s Cowboy Cookies, the ones she would make every Christmas when I was little.

I remember watching her make them when I was small, then helping when I was older. No one in the family remembers why they are called Cowboy Cookies, but that’s what they are called and they are absolutely some of the best chocolate chip cookies ever!

Sorry, but I won’t post the recipe, it’s too special to me. I’m sure you have special recipes from your family or friends that remind you of specific moments in your life; that’s what these treats are for me. Memories.

I give them to my friends and neighbors, I used to take them to The Cubicle Farm (I’ve already been messaged by my former co-workers that they are missing the cookies this Christmas haha!) and I’ll be taking them to The Store tomorrow to share my tradition with my new co-workers.

I’ve baked and baked all day, now I sit on the couch with a Doctor Who Marathon on the TV and Puppy snuggled so close to me you’d think she’s a part of my pajama pants. She even has her tiny paw draped over my leg onto the computer, like she wants me to hurry up and finish so she can get more cuddles!

I’d better comply, Puppy’s cuteness is starting to overwhelm me. 🙂

Sometimes Anti is better

I love my family.

All sides. From the crazy, colorful, funny and fearless side to the painfully repressed; they are my family and I love them.

But I don’t want to deal with them this year. I should, with the death of my Father and Stepmother, I should want to do nothing but be around my family.

But I don’t. I don’t want to be around my father’s side of the family right now.

I feel bad, but I also know that it is better for me to handle myself the way I know how and to leave them be. They can keep any judgements to themselves, which they will anyway because they are all “too polite” to actually have awkward conversations that might result in actual results. See above: re repressed.

They mean well. They make all the right moves and say all the right things but the truth is I’ve never felt much of a connection to them. We’ve ALL tried. But when you have almost nothing in common with family, that’s when the trouble starts. People have to be free to feel comfortable and not feel like they have to watch what they say in case they accidentally spark off a conversation that inevitably turns to money, religion or politics. Which, when you have zip in common, almost always ends up being the topic!

So instead, I begged off; claiming I had to work because I work in retail now (thank THE LORD) and stayed in bed late with Boyfriend and Puppy just enjoying every moment until Boyfriend had to go to work.

My dinner will be chips and salsa or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and it will be delicious and satisfying. I might get up early and run to Target for a Black Friday deal on a sewing machine. But I might just stay in bed some more until I have to go to work myself.

I’m thankful that I gave myself that time. I’m thankful that my family might not understand but they accepted my excuse and didn’t push the issue. Truthfully they probably knew I wasn’t working, but that tendency towards repression worked in my favor.

a six month delayed post

Yesterday was awful.
I’ve tried, I really have. But I’m fairly certain I’ll be let go from The Cubicle Farm if not today, then sometime when I come back from vacation.
And you know what? I’m sad only because of what happened yesterday.

I had a massive panic attack after speaking to my manager about, well it ended up being everything. Come to find out that she claims she had “no idea” why I wouldn’t want to work with that guy who harassed me. Really?? He bullied and intimidated me from across the room and made it so if I see that he’s going to the bathroom or break area I DON’T. I WAIT until he’s gone, but she didn’t know why??
And then “you ask and comment too much”…I’m sorry, but at the end of any meeting, has anyone ever said “OK! No questions, right? I’ve explained everything perfectly and no one needs to make sure they understand everything? Right?”…NO that NEVER happens, they ALWAYS ask “Does anyone have any comments, questions or concerns?” and if I do, I ASK. But apparently that’s “monopolizing the time of my teammates” who, ASK EACH OTHER AND DISCUSS AT LENGTH WHAT THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND AFTER THE MEETING IS OVER INSTEAD OF ASKING THE PERSON WHO LEAD THE MEETING THE QUESTIONS. That just seems idiotic to me. It’s all idiotic and backwards.
So after over 2 hours of finding out that anything AND I MEAN ANYTHING (like, asking a question?!?!) has painted me with a brush I didn’t earn, I broke. I had my second really major panic attack and found myself on the floor in the conference room corner heaving like a marathon runner trying to breathe through a straw and crying so hard I couldn’t see.
They almost called the paramedics. I probably should have let them, but they would’ve found some way to make ME pay for it.
I’d managed to ask for my purse and my beverage, thankfully I have been keeping my xanax ON HAND at The Cubicle Farm because I’ve been having to take it ALMOST DAILY. I managed to get my medication down and my mind started returning. My skin was still on fire, but I was starting to have my wits.
But I couldn’t just go back to my desk. The thought of sitting around people who not only don’t care but are willing to try and railroad me was too much. I could feel another panic attack on the brink.
So I went home sick. That’s probably going to put me at the “point” mark so they’ll fire me.
I’m only sad because I put in nearly 10 years of my life there, good years, the majority of my 30s. I’m smart and capable and passionate. But I’m not a sheep. And wolves like sheep, so they hated me.
And like an abused animal, I internalized it and tried to conform and come back. Well, that’s over now.
Fire me over points, fire me over this ridiculously trumped up FB charge; I’m finished feeling suffocated and insulted when all I’m doing is my job.
In true form, as I write this SERIOUSLY LONG POST I’m debating whether or not to even bother going in today. But since I’m my mother and father’s daughter with a ridiculously great work ethic, I think I’m going in.

Sorry, dudes

I’ve been MIA for a few weeks. Memorial service, depression, gearing up for my Pole Competition. It’s all been a major endeavor.
I promise I’ll do better. Just keep coming back to read. If anyone is. It means loads to me.

Fast but Slow

No one ever tells you that when a parent dies; time speeds up and slows down simultaneously.

Let me explain.

Since the deaths of my Dad and Chatty, it’s been 23 days. But it feels like it’s only been a week. Because there’s been so much to do and everyone has been hurrying us up to do it. Brother has been the better one; he’s gotten little things done every day. Don’t get me wrong, within the first week I was all “I’ll do this and I’ll do that and boom – done!” but now; I feel like…I don’t know.

I don’t want to sound like we haven’t done anything. Brother and I have gotten so much done, met and planned the memorial site (both are being cremated and their remains co-mingled) and begun plans for the Celebration of Life. Brother and his best friend have been cleaning out the house where my Dad died (I managed to make it to the foyer the first time back, then I was able to walk through the house but not the kitchen) and found Chatty’s wedding set which my Dad had hidden (because “the caregivers may be able to crack the safe!”) in his sweatpants drawer. So I’m very happy that their wedding rings will be interned with their urn in the vault at the marker.

And I think I’m going to ask Brother to include Dad’s Eagle Scout card too. Initially I had asked to have it. But the more I think about it, the more wrong it feels to not include it in the personal items in the urn. Dad was very proud of being an Eagle Scout. He was a card-carrying Eagle Scout. Not even joking. When he would meet with new clients or anyone new, he would pull it out of his wallet and say “Do you see this card? It means I don’t lie.”

Now, unfortunately that couldn’t be true these last few years. But for the majority of my Dad’s life; it was true. He didn’t lie. His Integrity and his ability with Logic were his thing. That doesn’t mean he didn’t make mistakes in his life, but he didn’t lie. Not really. Not when it counted.

Back to the subject; the time space whack-job that’s been happening to me.

First, I went back to work too soon and now I’m convinced more than ever before in the 10 years I’ve worked here that I will be quitting The Cubicle Farm soon. Very soon. The sooner the better. Even though my having a steady job in an industry that was secure was very important to my Dad, I just can’t do it for much longer. I’m not and have never been a Sheep and this place has crushed my soul for the last time.

Because I came back too soon, I’ve been avoiding work. My birthday week/end time off had already been planned and approved, but then I couldn’t get back in there again. I took another bereavement day. Then another. Then a vacation day. Then Boyfriend got sick so I stayed home to take care of him and take him to the doctor, etc. The Cubicle Farm decreed that “because you aren’t married” I couldn’t get paid for the sick time. Whatever. I didn’t want to be there anyway, but it sucks that I can’t supplement my unpaid time with paid vacation time. No no, that would be the human thing to do. The Cubicle Farm doesn’t function that way. Then I took a personal day. Now, next week, I’ll literally be working Monday and that’s it. I managed to get two vacation days in as well as knowing I’ve still got 2 more bereavement days. So yeah, avoiding is the word lately.

Because I’ve had the time, I’ve noticed that it’s been going faster. Going to therapy, trying to sleep, trying to do anything has gotten difficult. Even Pole! I’ve skipped THREE classes this week, and I’m supposed to be training for competition! It’s all really gotten away from me. And that’s bad.

I just can’t seem to get it together again yet. I’m really hoping that once the Celebration of Life is done, my life will normalize again. Not zoom forward or slow to a snail’s pace like it has been. When I need it to slow down, like when I’m trying to sleep or trying to cuddle with Puppy or Boyfriend, time speeds up or becomes so much more limited, but when I’m in The Cubicle Farm or home by myself (with Puppy, but she can’t talk so it’s not like I can have a conversation, sheesh!) time seems to run almost cruelly slow. The other day I took 2 baths, 2! That’s an excessive amount of baths for one person in one day! And I did it because I had the time. As lovely as I smelled after, bath bombs are my JAM right now, I didn’t enjoy myself. Not like I should have given I took 2 FREAKING BATHS, ugh.

I don’t know what it’s going to take to make everything feel more normal again. Probably more time, just depends on the speed I suppose.