Monday, December 28, 2009

Moving, Again.

I just want to wish everyone a Happy Holiday Season. Hope nothing truly awful or traumatic happens to anyone. And I'm sorry that for a little bit I'm going to be posting infrequently. We are going to be moving to Exeter to live with my Mom. There's a whole bunch of things I have to say about that. Some good, some bad. But that's for another day. We kind of have to, financially. I haven't actually live, permanently, with my mother since I was seventeen. So this is going to be interesting. The only thing that makes it possible is that we are re-doing the basement to our own apartment. So it won't be so bad once it's settled. But that's going to be a bit.
But anyhow, we're packing now and going back and forth a lot. Once we have our stuff set up there I'll have a lot more time. Mikey's back with boxes though and he'll be irritated that I've been on the computer while he was gone. So...until later.

You Can't Always Get What You Want....and bad bosses.

Uh-Oh. Not even one post later and I'm back to my bitching and complaining. The typical narcissistic blogger. Me, me, me....

Wow-ee. It's been a stretch since I've last posted. And a crap load has occurred in my absence. Where to begin....Well, I'm a bit embarrassed to admit, but I don't work at the health food store anymore. It just was not going to work out. I technically quit before I got fired but he got his two cents in before I left for sure. I have to clarify that I have only been really fired from one job. By "really" I mean I didn't quit first like in this instance and I really didn't see it coming. Most of my jobs I've left on good terms and stayed at for years. I worked at a farm in VT for four summers and a grocery store there for three years. I worked at a youth center for two years and the crappy truck yard even for fourteen months. I have had other jobs for six months here and there because I used to travel a lot and then when I went to school and such. But my point is that I'm generally a hard worker and very thoughtful. Even the whole time I used I worked full-time and my employer liked me. I still use him as a reference and I know he gives me a good one. So really it boils down to the fact that the owner was just too hard for me to work with. I kind of knew he was weird, but I didn't know the half of it until I really started to have a lot of contact with him. It just got to be unbearable. He called my co-workers idiots in the middle of the store in front of a bunch of customers. And then later that same evening he called the cashier stupid and too dumb to put the candy away correctly, also in front of customers. And that's just a blip in the craziness. There was a "procedure" for EVERYTHING! Now, I'm all for an organized, well-run workplace. But it got to be crazy. Mostly because if you didn't think to ask if there was a procedure for something and did it wrong, even once, he'd bug out and talk to you as if you were the biggest loser retard in the world. And how could you BE so STUPID as to not think to ask what the EXACT procedure was for letting a customer use the bathroom. I'm not making that up either. There was a procedure for that which needed to be followed to the T. Apparently, we were not allowed to hand the customer the bathroom key, we were supposed to unlock the door and let them in and hang up the key and then wait for them. Because, he said, there was too much theft and we needed to check the bathroom after each customer use to make sure they didn't steal anything and also to check cleanliness. Which, whatever, a bit insane, but if that's what he wants, whatever. But I asked my co-workers if she could use the bathroom first and they said sure. They didn't mention anything about a specific procedure for this instance, so I figured common sense could prevail. But he (the owner) must have heard her or saw her leave the bathroom and he found me to yell at me about not asking about "procedure". This is when he called everyone idiots. It was really humiliating and that's when I started to lose it. I knew it wasn't going to work at the end of that day. But things didn't blow until the following day.

The straw that broke the camel's back was when he told me I should have finished putting the day's order away "hours ago" and why was I SO far behind. I was crushed. It was a huge order and it was the second time ever that I had put the whole thing away alone and only maybe the fifth time ever I had even touched an order there at all. And I had always worked with someone else. I still didn't know where a lot of products went. And I thought I had done an awesome job. Other employees had even come in throughout the day and commented on how much I had done so fast. Not to mention I had found products on the shelves that had been out of code date since JUNE! I must have found a total of thirty products in the time I worked there that were out of date. And rather than take them off the shelf, he'd just mark them down. Even dairy products, like yogurt. I also moved almost four shelves of back-stock onto the store shelves. Stuff that he was ordering new because he didn't even bother to see what he had. You have to understand that this store was rather small. So it's kind of really bad that stuff was so disorganized and not up to code. They kept saying that couldn't find any good help and they'd been so understaffed for so long. Now I know why. Nobody wants to work for this guy. During the interview I said (and I don't know how this came up) I was wary of businesses that always had an ad in the paper because it made me think they couldn't keep employees for a reason. Maybe they were bad places to work. He got all weird and started to explain why he always had an ad in the paper. I didn't realize that he was always running ads because I didn't generally get the paper that I found the ad in. I had no idea that I was talking about him. But now I know it's a good rule to follow.

Anyhow, after he dissed my work I was pretty frustrated and I wasn't really in to staying late to finish the order which I had been fully prepared to do before. You have to know that he had insulted me at least ten times that day already and I had received it gracefully. Despite the fact that most of the times he should have realized it was stuff I was hearing for the first time. He would yell at me or correct me over stuff that had happened way before I ever worked for him. Like stuff with price tags in the wrong place. (Every item had a SPECIFIC location in which the price sticker must be placed. Or else.) Or if stuff wasn't set up the way he wanted it. Or there was a lettuce leaf or a drop of water on the floor. It could be anything. And he would talk to you as if he just caught you stealing a hundred dollars out of the register. He'd say things all the time like, "Because you didn't remember to write that pudding down as a credit on the bills, I forgot to call it in. Now it's too late and that's going to be a loss for me you know". And then he'd give you this look like you idiot, how are you still alive. That really happened by the way. Except you should know that it was me in the first place who happened to notice that the Indian pudding we had just received had a code date that was bad in about four days. So if we had put it out we would have ended up eating most of it because it would have gone bad way before it sold. But they were totally surprised I caught it to begin with. Because, of course, I was new so when I noticed it I asked him what he wanted to do about it, he told me to tape it up and where to put it. I swear he didn't remind me to write it down. I think at that time, I'd seem him do that with some items but only after the fact or from afar. I hadn't been specifically instructed. And maybe that's common knowledge but I just didn't realize. And he was throwing way too much at me at once anyhow for me to remember everything I'm told after hearing it once. Obviously he knew about it because we had a lengthy conversation about the whole "procedure" of where it needed to go and how. He also checked the bills after the order was complete to make sure I checked every item off and hadn't done anything totally off base. So that was another opportunity for him to catch my mistake of not writing down the pudding. So how is it all my fault? How does he bear no responsibility? In my short time there I heard him tell another employee that he never forget anything important at least. And very rarely did he forget anything at all. I swear he thought he was the most perfect, flawless human in the world.

Could I get in legal trouble if I mention him and his business by name? Is there a site on which employees or former employees can warn other potential employees about bosses who are abusive or unethical? There should be. There are sites where customers can tell potential customers about how pleased or not they were with their escort, or prostitute, for the night. If we have that, then we should definitely have the same type of thing for the world of employers. Don't people have the right to be informed of a potential issue with an employer? Do they belittle their employees, do the make sexual comments, do the pay late or not at all, do they give breaks or just pretend to? Things like that are important and you can't ask them in an interview. No, on the contrary, the person being interviewed has to kiss butt, like the employer doesn't need employees just as much as we need an employer. You can't run a business, in many circumstances, with no employees, right? So why isn't the relationship more give and take?

Well, what it came down to it that he wasn't paying me enough to do the job at double speed, never make a mistake, EVER, and on top of all that be his emotional punching bag because he had a mental illness combined with massively low self-esteem. In the end, though, it has been a blessing in disguise. But I have to run now so I'll have to update on all the other news later. But trust me, there are BIG happenings.

Whoa, thanks for letting me get that out. It's been eating at me for days. I really wanted that job to work out. I loved the actual work. And the other employees were cool. The hours were great, the location convenient. But alas, not everything is what we wish it would be.

Friday, December 18, 2009

It's so Fricken Cold!

Cold! So Cold! I hate the cold without enough snow. We have some snow but not enough to insulate the earth here in NH.

But anyhow -and I have to make this fast - I've been thinking a lot about how I can change the tone of this blog to be more positive and interesting. Really, nobody wants to read about someone's shitty life day after day. If there is no humor in it especially.
So I've finally ditched my shitty job and have a better one. In fact, working at the new place has reminded me of what I was interested in before I became obsessed with H. I wanted to go to school to be an herbalist and I was really into health and natural medicine in general. So I need to make that a priority in my life once more. It will make me feel better and may be more interesting to read about also. This is a rushed post since I should be getting ready for work. So as I am re-learning a lot of the stuff I need to know to be good at my new job, I thought I could also write about it a little bit here. Of course I'm sure I won't be able to help myself from bitching just a little bit. But we'll see if I even stick to it. I have a knack at no follow through. Have a wonderful, frigid day everyone!

Monday, December 14, 2009

Monday Funday

It's Monday. I'm sure everyone was already aware of that. I didn't have to work on Saturday so it was like a real weekend for me. But Now, here it is, Monday. And I have a million things to do. First on my list was to figure out where the heck Mikey's unemployment money disappeared to. I figured I'd check the account balance on the freak chance that it just simply showed up over Sunday sometime; not actually expecting that to happen though. But it DID! It's here! Freakin' weird, if you ask me. But also lame, because it was probably actually in there all weekend just not showing. So it ruined my day on Saturday and Sunday because I thought we had no money. It would have been fine if one of the people we spoke to from the bank or the online site on Saturday had simply said, "The website is experiencing some difficulties. If your money was sent then it will probably have gone through by Monday. But don't get upset by what the screen is showing because it is inaccurate". That's all, but nobody had anything other than, "I don't know. You'll have to call unemployment." As if we were just crazy people who thought we had money we didn't. We tried to explain that unemployment has a website too. They showed that the payment was sent on 12/10 and it didn't go through until today. That's sucky. I hate money and banks and payments, it's all too rigid for my artistic sensibilities ; ).

Ick. I have to go to the clinic still. I hate the clinic. I like methadone, it works for me. But I think it's crap that I can't get take-homes because I smoke weed. That's it. Just the weed and the done for me. But I still have to go there every day. Even though I'm one of, like, two percent of the patients who has a full-time job and is trying to finish school. I still get treated like a degenerate because I smoke a fricken herb. It's not as if I'm still booting dope, so seriously. And they are only open until eleven-thirty so I really have to run. Super convenient, huh? Only ten on the weekends. And they bitch at you if you get there after quarter of ten because they don't want to be there after ten still dosing, they want to be closing up by ten-thirty. If they open at six, that's only a four hour day. Oh, poor, finger-to-the-bone things.

Well, to the clinic, then laundry, then back home to get ready for work which I only have to be at for two hours tonight. Kind of silly - but money is money, right.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

If Only I Had A Penny For Every Complaint......

Well, I officially, totally, entirely, and for sure, suck. I suck, suck, suck. Mikey called while he was out and decided he would, after all, pick up the stuff I needed at the store for the cake. So I made the cake and I also made a really awesome wreath out of hemlock, white pine, bittersweet berries and dried Queen Anne's Lace flowers. It may not be everyone's cup of tea but I like it a lot. I think it's really pretty and still Chrismassy. But then I didn't go to the party. I called, obviously, to say I wouldn't make it. I'm not a total ass. She seemed fine about it. It's not like we're really friends, we hardly know each other. I think she only invited me because I heard her talking about it to the kid we work with. But still, I didn't want them to worry or think I couldn't find the place, or whatever. I really have no good excuse. I could have made it. I would have been a bit late - but better late than never. Why? Why didn't I go?

Well, for starters, it was a shitty, shitty day. Everything just went wrong. It began by having to drive to the clinic - and Mike had left an oxygen tank in the car. And those f'n things are heavy, and they roll. I can't lift it out of there either and I knew he wouldn't move it first thing in the morning w/out making a major fuss. So I drove with the tank in the car - fling back and forth every time I turned a corner. I thought it was going to go right through the side of the car a couple times. I pulled into the bank, driving as slowly and carefully as possible without causing an accident, and still it was like Slam! Bang! Clunk!; and the woman sitting in a car next to the space I pulled into looked at me as if I were there to bomb the bank and maybe my bomb had gone off early. So I became slightly perturbed early in the day because of the tank being still in the car. See, I've had this discussion with him five majillion times. I've asked him to please take the tank out immediately so I don't get stuck driving around with it slamming around. We drive a little, two-door Honda Civic, so the tank literally throws the car off balance as it flails around in there. It's actually dangerous. It distracts me as well as physically causing me to swerve. Plus, I think it will blow up if it gets slammed hard enough. I know, I've been told, that that CAN"T happen. Can't, Shmant. I don't want to hear it, just get the f'n thing out of the car! So then, obviously, once I got home I bitched about it and that got him all pissed off. So the morning just began all sucky. And then it got worse.

Mike is on unemployment..still. And we get direct deposit of the funds every week, without fail. So we planned on having a certain amount of cash for the weekend. But when we went to check our balance on the on-line banking sight, it said we had nine dollars in the account. So we're like "What the Fuck?". So we looked on the Vermont State unemployment website and it said the check was paid to us on the tenth. So where the hell did the money go? If it's not in our account, where is it? We didn't think there would be an issue because why would there? It's been the same every week for months now. So it was Saturday after noon, the post office was closed so we don't know if maybe they sent it that way for some bizarre reason. And we can't call the office until Monday. And the bank (we called them too, because our bank IS open on Saturdays) and they said they couldn't track it until we talked to unemployment and got more information about how the money was supposed to be paid out. I just can't fathom where it is? How does direct deposit, that's been the same for months, get fucked up? It's not as if it got stuck or lost in a f'n wire across the universe somewhere. It's fricken all electronic. Did someone hit a wrong button somewhere? I don't know. But I DO know we have NO money! Because my new job pays, like, nothing. And my old job is being an asshole about giving me my vacation pay. And I don't need to remind anyone that it's Christmas in, like, two seconds. I'm SO STRESSED! To say the least. Maybe if I didn't have to dish out $105 every week for my methadone I'd be able to swing it. But I only made a hundred bucks from my new job this week. I'm taking a hefty pay cut to be able to work days, I'm physically much happier, I'm just stressed about money. Who isn't? Besides the obvious answers, like celebrities.

But anyhow, I was just stressed to the max about not getting the check that said it was sent. I hate having to wait to take action. I hate being helpless and unable to do anything to fix something. I just have to wait. So I gave half the cake I made to the neighbors upstairs. It was Mike's idea. He talks to the guy a lot and he knew the girl, the pregnant one has been craving chocolate cake. So I decided not to be a mega bitch for, like, a minute and gave them half. But I made Mike bring it up to them, and I better get my plate back! And I'm going to put the wreath on our own door today. I have pictures, but we live in the boonies and only get dial-up Internet, so pictures are a nightmare to download. Maybe I can figure something out by downloading them over the phone or something. We'll see.

But mostly I didn't want to meet a bunch of new people on a day when I was stressed out and frazzled. Also, I didn't want to be the girl who didn't know anyone showing up late while everyone's already sitting down to eat or whatever. I'm so LAME! I overthink everything. I'm so fucking socially awkward. I have to get over it. I'm really trying to make an effort to think of ways to get myself out there more. It's going to take some time though. At least I'm working with actual living people now, not just sitting alone in a shack all night talking to passing truckers. Maybe I can hang out with just her a couple times, get to know her better before going to a party. We have talked about taking a yoga class after work. Maybe just if I take it slow I can do it. I'm a nice person, I'm smart and thoughtful - I just get so worried that people judge me harshly. I have to get over it.

I'm not going to be too hard on myself though. Because I think, overall, I'm making some good steps in the right direction. I've got my new job, which hopefully I'll get a raise at soon. In the interview he told me that once I was trained and doing orders and stuff I would make more than I made at my old job. That's why I accepted less while I'm training - with the promise of more to come. I just hope he keeps his word. Because I can't live off $8.50/hr, it just doesn't cut it. I'll give him until after Christmas and then we'll talk about the future, my future there. If I'm not what he was expecting and he doesn't want to pay me more, I'll have to look for something else. But until then I'll just keep trying to do my best work to show him I'm worth it. I'm a lot of things, but a crappy worker isn't one of them. When I'm working, I work my ass off.
And my Mom is going to help me get my license back for my birthday, help with the fines and clearing up the misunderstanding over our same names. That's a long story. But the stupid Massachusetts DMV messed up our info because we have the same, exact legal names. So they gave her an ID with her picture and my info. And now it's a big stupid mess and they want the both of us to come in and prove there are actually two of us. It was their error but they're treating us as if we tried to commit fraud. To what f'n end? Such fraud would in no way benefit me, would it? So why would we do that on purpose? It's making it really a pain in the ass to fix.

Oh, My! It's almost one, Ah! it IS one in the afternoon. And I've got nothing done at all. My house is a mess, I haven't eaten or worked out. I could spend hours on here, checking out what everyone has to say and blabbing myself away. But then I would regret it when I haven't a lick of clean clothes to wear to my job on Monday. Oh my God, if I can find the handbook I'll have to give you a sample of the crazy dress code rules. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. Can you say crazy? But for now I have to run. Literally, in place, in my stinky, dinky living room. But at least I am lucky enough to have an exercise machine at all. Got that in the good ol' days of easy money and drugs, so I won't be able to replace it any time soon. Since those days are long gone. Wish my big, fat belly went with them. I guess I'll have to work on that one all by myself, the old fashioned way, with sweat and tears. Until later, my faithful buddies. Thanks for so loyally enduring my rants, I can't tell you how special it makes me feel when I see your comments. Later.

Parties and Stuff

Well, I am supposed to go to this party/dinner thing at the apartment of one of my new co-workers tonight. On one hand I really want to go, on another I'm scared to go because I will only know two people there. And I only know them from work and not very well at that. I can be rather socially awkward when I'm not intoxicated. And once my inhibitions are lowered I can sometimes scare people because I start to talk about crazy shit. But the girl who invited me, let's call her Ellen, seems really nice and laid back. I know they smoke herb and are into some of the same things as I am, so it will probably be mellow. Mikey, obviously, doesn't want to go since he's lazy and boring. But that's probably in my favor anyhow. I'll be less odd if I'm alone. He makes me kind of embarrased because it's clear our relationship sucks - and we don't need to display it to the world.
On the subject of Mikey...he hates it whenever I try to hang out with anyone, even my own family. It's as if he wants me to be there for him just in case he needs something. Any time I make plans he subconciously sabotages them. He'll suddenly be "so sick, he can't move", or he gets into a car accident or comes home really late so I can't use the car. It drives me crazy. I have, honestly, no friends right now. They have all either moved across the country, or I alienated them with my actions during my heroin stage, or we grew apart because I spent no time with them because I catered too much to Mikey. I hate myself for creating this shitty situation.
But once again, he's just left to go do a bunch of shit just a few hours before I'm supposed to leave. I'm supposed to bring something and I wanted it to be this chocolate cake that I know comes out really good. But I don't have all the ingredients and I know he won't be back in time for me to go get what I need and still make the cake. I'm pissed. But I'm still going to try. I'm going to start getting as much as I can ready. I'm showering now and stuff. So as soon as he gets back, I can go. So maybe I'll be a bit late - better than not going. He's not going to make me sit at home all night while he blows glass or dicks around on the computer. I asked him to stop and get some of the stuff I need and he threw a hissy fit.

Screw this. I'm not letting it be a sucky night. I'm going to the party cake or not. I'll buy something if I have to. I better get started I have so much to do. I should have planned better. I'm trying to get my shit together. At least I quit the other job and it's looking up. Gotta get started. Until later.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Nothing Of Consequence

If reading about sex is going to bother you, don't read the whole middle of this post. Skip to the end or something. It's not described graphically, but it is personal. So if you are a family member of the male variety, you may not want to go there. And if sex otherwise makes you queasy, this may not be the post for you.

I like Rhianna's new album. It's pretty good I think, even some of the slower songs which aren't generally my thing are pretty listenable. I like the one line, "I'm such a fuckin' lady". Because a lot of people think that women who swear must be trashy and uneducated. But that's not true at all. I think you can be a lady and still know when the situation calls for getting down and dirty. Being a lady doesn't have to be synonymous with prissiness. I think the main attribute a lady must posses is being able to handle almost any situation with grace and ease (or what looks like grace and ease by those on the outside, no matter what she may be feeling on the inside). I'm sure there are many who don't agree with me, but that's still what I think. I aspire to be able to deal with anything from a flat tire to making an edible meal with whatever's in the fridge; anything from a crazy person opening fire in a crowded shopping plaza to getting a red wine stain out of a vintage lace tablecloth, all without freaking out. But that doesn't mean a well placed 'Fuck' doesn't have it's place sometimes. Anyhow.....

We had a little bit of snow last night. I love snow, actually. I hated being forced to stand out in it in the middle of the night with massive eighteen-wheelers careening towards me; but from the comfort of a warm place behind glass or down, it's lovely. It looks like a magical wonderland outside of my window. Snow leaves a feeling of peacefulness for me. Some of the best times in my life were in the snow. I'll remember forever some of the days when I lived in this little cabin with the one I may always consider to be my best love, snowed in with a big fire, cuddled up reading or listening to VPR. The cabin getting so hot we would end up laying there naked, perfect, so happy. Often I wonder if I will ever be in love like that ever again. I know I could if I just got out of the rut I'm in. I love Mikey but in the way you love a brother or a best friend. I really hope we can stay friends, but there is no passion. And I'm way too fiery of a person to have such a lack of passion in a relationship.

I get so annoyed when I hear men who complain that there wives or whatever won't have sex with them enough. It's the opposite for me. I'm sure any men who read this will think, "Well, you probably got all fat and ugly and your man is simply disgusted by you". Well, honestly, I have gained a little weight but I still only weigh about one thirty and I'm about five-two. According to self magazine I should weigh one seventeen to be healthy. So I am about fifteen pounds overweight. That's not un-fuckably fat, right? I mean he's no Jude Law, okay. He's a bit flabby himself and I can look right past that. And I'm, like, what you may call fit fat. I had always been really thin and fit until I got off dope and on methadone and I just don't know what happened but I ballooned up for a while. I've lost a lot but not all. But still I have really good muscle tone from being being so active for so long. And I have a decent face, I'm no model but I'm not ugly. So what's the problem? I don't know, he won't ever give me an answer. He says he's tired, or his back hurts, or he used to blame the methadone or the dope. But he's not on it anymore, so what is it? Is he gay?(I don't think that's it because I find hetero porn all over the house when I clean. That's another thing. I don't care if a guy likes porn, really, I don't. But if he can get it up for that, what gives? I'm always saying that it's not fair that he can do it with a fantasy but saves none for me.) What kind of red-blooded man pushes a woman away when she's trying to pull off his pants to suck his dick? I mean, really? Who doesn't want a blow job, like, whenever? Right? I've blatantly told him to start getting it up or I'm getting out, or I'm going to, eventually, cheat on him. And that just sucks. It's ruining our relationship. It really is the main problem. I don't think we would fight so much about other things if we had more sex. I know it stresses me out to not have sex, like, every day. He says that's not normal, but I think it's him that's not right. Maybe everyday sounds like too much for some people. I can be reasonable though. But he doesn't even want to get down once a month, I swear! I'm not exaggerating! Why should I be okay with that? It's messing with my self-esteem, you know? I'm beginning to think it must be me, even though I know, logically, it couldn't be just me. Our sex life was never the best thing about our relationship. But it was passable for a while. I figured we could make it better once we got to know each other better, but we're just at a barrier in our sex life right now. I've always had a great sex life with other boyfriends. Other guys hit on me or look at me like they'd hit it. He won't even have make-up sex with me. He says when he's mad at me, it turns him off and he just can't. WTF? Is he serious? Is he a fuckin' girl, or what?
Sorry if all the sex talk is making some people uncomfortable. I just have to get it off my chest. Whether anyone reads it or not doesn't really matter. I just have to wonder. I don't like to talk to people who know us both about it because I don't want to embarrass him or myself. But it's really taking a toll on me. I feel like I'm wasting some of the best, most fertile years of my life. Despite the fact that I bitch about overpopulation and how I'm not a huge fan of kids, I do actually want to have kids some day. And so does Mike, but I try to explain to him that that's not ever gonna happen if he won't have sex with me. He just ignores me. It sucks because I think he'd make a really good father too. If you saw the way he treats the dogs, you'd think so too. He made a f'n YouTube video of the tricks he taught his favorite. I'm embarrassed to even admit to that. (I'm pretty sure he posted it, but he may still be working on it at the time of this posting. He was trying to erase my voice from the background saying, "This is gonna make people puke".)I told him I wanted no part in it but he made me video part of it because he said he couldn't orchestrate the tricks and hold the camera at the same time. Definitely goofy. But he spoils the crap out of them. And he's really good at taking care of plants. And I believe that if a person or people want to have kids, they damn well better be sure they can at least keep a small animal like a cat, dog, or guinea pig alive. And certain plants take a lot of care and love to keep alive, too. Seeing the way he treats the plants and animals in his life makes me think he'd be good at raising kids. Of course those are not the only reasons I think he'd make a good parent, obviously. I know I mostly complain about Mike, but clearly I wouldn't have been with him as long as I have if he didn't have redeeming qualities. He's a good guy, don't get me wrong but I just get the feeling that we're not meant to be together for the long haul, you know? We just don't mesh as well as I think we could.

On a more positive note......I really like my new schedule, awake in the daytime, asleep at night. It's just so, I don't know, normal. After only a week I feel so much more alive than I have in almost three years. That sounds crazy, but it's true. Maybe even four. Ever since I started working nights. First at Price Chopper, a local grocery store, in the bakery over night. Than at C&S as a "Security Guard", which was the absolute worst. I was talking to Mike about it the other day, and we agreed that it was around the time we both started working nights, about a year or so after we first got on the methadone (yikes, it maybe has been almost five years) that we really started to get fat. I know I'm going to lose weight so much faster now that I'm working a normal job. I'm moving around constantly, eating a normal breakfast, lunch, and dinner instead of just eating crap whenever I could at weird times because of when I had to be awake. And because I'm working at a health food store I'm becoming more conscious of what I eat. I mean , I've always been picky about what I eat. My Mom always fed us well, homemade meals with a lot of vegetables and no soda and very little sweets. And I've always tried to stand by that. I was really into natural medicine and eating all organic and shit like that for years. That's what I studied at Bennington, along with dance. But once I started getting high all the time, I sort of changed my mentality about a lot of things. Some of the ways in which dope liberated me, I'll never regret. But other things I lost, I'll always be sad about. But anyhow, I've been working out almost every day since I started a couple weeks ago. And now it's my primary job, and I'll have a lot more time to spend on improving my quality of life. I really want to lose the rest of the weight I put on. My goal is to weigh one fifteen. That's not that crazy, I'm pretty small. That's about where I should be. I know I will be much happier with myself if I can fit into my clothes without being self-conscious. I hate that. I hate, hate, hate looking at myself in the mirror and thinking, "Ugh, look at that. It looks horrible". I want to think I look hot all the time, not just sort of hot but, like, wicked hot. I can't wait for my hair to grow out. It's really getting better now that it's not totally short, short. Short is NOT my style, trust me. It has to grow fast. I wonder if I could afford really well done extensions? Is that insane? Yes, okay, I know it is. I'll just have patience and try to make it as un-hideous as possible until then.
Oh my God, it's one! I can't believe I've been on here for so long. This things sucks up my life. That's why I haven't been posting as much. Because I'm not sitting at a desk in front of a computer for twelve hours at a time anymore, I don't have a lot of time to post. But now look what's happened, I've let it all cram up inside me and it's come gushing out in a pus of never-ending-nonsense. I'm going to try to post more often. It's difficult to pry Mikey away from the computer. He's, like, glued to stupid facebook games. I hate facebook, it makes me feel lame. Anyhow, I have to run. Literally, run, run on my stupid elliptical machine. So I'm not fat anymore, and maybe my boyfriend will have sex with me before I run away and find someone who will. I guess I don't feel guilty that it's one o'clock in the afternoon. It's Sunday, my day off. I worked hard at my new job this week. As much as I like the job, my boss is kind of a mean dweeb. I thought I was the only one who thought so. But it turns out, so does everyone else. He can hardly keep staff around a few months, I'm told. He's really mean, he accused me of lying already (I didn't) but that's a story for another time. I don't care, I'm not going to think about it. I'm going to try to let it roll right off me. Like my co-worker, the other-worldly handsome one, does. It's as if he doesn't even hear dweeby man's insults and accusations. That will be me too, if I can pull it off. I need the job. Oh, wait, and I was invited to a party!
So for now, Goodbye.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Last Day is Official....but still bitching, Why Not?

It's official. I never, ever, ever have to go back to that awful truck yard ever again! Whooo-hooo!!! I admit, I made an asshole move by calling out of the last two days. I would feel really guilty about it but I know that they would not hesitate to screw me over if they could. In fact, I'm not looking forward to the battle I know is coming over them paying out my vacation time. I know they have to, I earned it and never used it..but they will drag it out in hopes I forget and don't pursue it. Unless of course they were scared by my last e-mail in which I insinuated that the labor board and OSHA may be interested in some of the ongoing safety and human rights violations which take place there on a daily basis. If I were smart I really would pursue such issues - I could probably get some money out of it. Not seriously, I'm not the suing type. I am, however, the type that will fight for justice and the fair treatment of workers. Perhaps once I catch up on the five million hours of lost sleep, I'll look into it.

The night before last, my LAST! night, I had a driver come stomping up to my shack freaking out because he ran out of gas on the main road directly before the entrance to the facility. So he was blocking all the normal morning traffic as well as several tractor trailers bound for C&S on one of the major roadways people use in the area. It was beginning to look like a cluster fuck up there from what I could see. Drivers were laying on their horns, lights flashing, and this guy just gets out of his truck and leaves it sitting right in the middle of the road while he walks all the way, half a mile or so, to bitch at me about it. So I see him coming, thinking he must have broken down due to engine trouble or something. So I ask "Sir, do you need to make a phone call or something?" Immediately he starts half-cry hollering that "there is just NO gas stations in Vermont and what was he supposed to do! And now look what happened! What am I supposed to do NOW!? Call someone, call the POLICE! I need a container!!!" I was at a loss. This had never happened before. Guys had broken down at the gate before, but they were on our property at the time, not a state highway, and they were being polite and we ended up towing them out of the way. But this guy didn't want a tow, he wanted someone from our facility to take him to a gas station to get gas. I said that wasn't going to happen, the best I could do was maybe get him a push into the yard where he would then have to figure something out from there. I didn't even know who in the yard would be willing to put their jobs on the line to help him. It was like he was mad because I wasn't jumping in my own car to drive him to a gas station. What kind of idiot thinks the police are going to shuttle some lazy moron around who couldn't be bothered to fill his gas tank? Police don't even offer to drive stranded motorists around whose cars have legitimately broken down due to no fault of their own. He was stopped right at the top of a hill too. I told him to coast down the hill and move out of the way so people could get past him, and he went ballistic. He was screaming that he wasn't at the top of the hill (I could see the truck, and it was high enough on the hill he would have been fine) and what kind of an idiot was I. I was like, "Look man, don't take your anger out on me. It's your own fault you ran out of gas. You're going to have to calm down while I make some calls to see who I can get out here, if anyone. None of our shop guys are in yet, it's five a.m., you'll be lucky if a yard man answers me on the radio and I can't leave my post." Then he stormed away, shrieking, "Fine! Nooobo-oody wii-iilll helllp meee!" Oh my God! Be a friggin Man for crying out loud! I wanted to be like, "Look, Nancy-man, find your f'n ball sack and coast down the hill and call for roadside assistance like every other trucker in the world. Or better yet, fill the f'n two-hundred fifty gallon gas tank before you're on fumes! Or even fill your back-up tank too! What the hell is wrong with people? I did get the yard men to help him. But, like I told him, all he got was a tow into the yard. But he came walking over later with his paperwork with a smug little smirk on his face which made me think he and the yard men were out there talking about how I was such a bitch or some shit. I hate men like that. Never take responsibility for their own mistakes, and if they don't get the reaction they want from a women then we must be a bitch or PMS-ing, it couldn't possibly be because they are a raging asshole or anything. My God, I will not miss these idiots. I will not miss fat, sweaty, rancid smelling men telling me I need to smile. Why the fuck do I need to smile, MF? To make you feel more at ease, to hide the fact that you make me want to puke? If I never hear another person say, "Oh look at you all bundled up like a snowman, what do you think it's cold or something? What are you you gonna do when it gets really cold?", it will be too soon. I'd like to see any of them do my job, in and out, from the wicked hot, one temp only hot air blower they claim passes for a legit heat system out to the freezing wet cold every two minutes, let's see what it does to their body temperature. I can tell you it sucks. Never again!!!

Well, I guess I should stop bitching about a job I never have to go back to and start cleaning my house. Thank God nobody can see my house right now through this screen. You would all be appalled, and rightly so. It's a mess. I've been working both jobs, then the holidays are always time consuming and stressful, so I've had very little time to clean. And do you think Mike has done anything besides pick up the dog pads for their litter box(he only does that because he can't stand looking at it) and wash one dish at a time for it's immediate use by him? Of course he hasn't. But if you ask him, he's been breaking his back to help out. He can't even make the bed or put away the clean clothes that I washed and folded and put in the bedroom for him. He throws his dirty clothes all over the house. Every morning I clean up the kitchen, wipe down the counters and put all the cereal boxes back up on the shelf, and then he does it all again and leaves it looking like a kitchen bomb went off. It drives me crazy. But if I try to bitch about it, he starts screaming at me, calling me a f'n bitch and all I do is bitch and can't I just leave him alone. It makes me want to skin him alive. So now I don't even bother unless I'm having a really shitty day and he's been particularly messy, I might decide it's worth a battle. Otherwise I simply try to envision what it will be like once I have my own place that will always be clean. The only dishes I'll have to wash will be my own. Worst case, I'll have to make it through the winter, I'll be getting a bundle back for taxes this year. I finally caught on about claiming my medical expenses and other such write offs- hello new(to me, but obviously used) car, and apartment! I did lose it the other day and I grabbed a stainless steel frying pan off the kitchen hook, and very quietly, serenely held it up to my shoulder and looked him in the eye and warned him that if he called me one more name, swore at me one more time and I would put an end to it myself, swiftly with the pan. He stopped, at least for the time being. I was serious. I understand how some woman just snap and murder their husbands because they just can't handle any more abuse. If the looming possibility of a homicide is not enough to put an end to a relationship, I don't know what is.

Later, Maid Nellie is on call.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Same Old Tirade, Different Day....

Nothin' like a little AC/DC at 8am, right? Well, maybe not for everyone. But my asshole, self-absorbed, baby-neglecting upstairs neighbors should have thought about that before they blasted shitty, old Nelly hits all afternoon directly over my sleeping head. They know damn straight that I work nights, therefore sleep days(at least until the end of the week I still do). They are constantly doing things that make clear just how thoughtless they are. And it was just enough to push me into some good, old-fashioned revenge. All you Anons out there can't bitch about revenge, isn't that a concept highly supported by most, if not all, organized religion? I understand that it's daytime, the acceptable time for most people to be awake. Because I make an unconventional choice in working nights, I have to be willing to make sacrifices and be somewhat flexible in my requirements for sleep. But these people are constantly making noise at a level that is well above and beyond normal noise. Either they're the most clumsy-ass, butter-fingered doofs in the world or they just throw shit on the floor all the time. Now, I admit, I've thrown shit at people in my life before. I've thrown plates, full cans of soda, rocks, sticks and I don't know how many personal items of my own that I will regret forever that I broke. But I mostly grew out of it as I got older, certainly that's part of why I put off having know, until the rage simmered down a bit. And mine has, like, improved about eighty percent. But I don't even throw this much crap. I definitely haven't broken anything of my own in a few years, thankfully. I have the money to re-buy tv's and shit. They don't seem to smash big stuff like that, it seems like maybe just like a purse or book sized item, maybe. And then the floors are paper thin. So I'm sure they can hear me bitching about them, I don't really care because it's stressful for me to have someone selling drugs above me. I just want the benefit of being able to decide when to surround myself with that shit. I hate having it pushed in my face when I'm not prepared. And because it's looking like I'll probably have to wait for my tax return until I can afford to buy a car and get my own apt., if he shoves it in Mike's face it affects me too. Ever since I found out he was going to start selling that shit my stress level has skyrocketed. Mikey's always bitching about it or saying he wants some. He hasn't used yet but I'm sure it's only a matter of time. And I hate that shit. I've only ever really thought I might die when I was doing coke a few times. That shit can get scary when you're booting it. I want nothing to do with it. Mike can do what he wants once I'm not living here, but until then...not cool.

(Aside: Jesus, I just applied a face mask. And the f'n thing is kind of not as much pleasant as a violent assault on the senses. There, like, alcohol in it and it's making it very difficult to breathe in my small bathroom. I need air.)

I know I sound like a whiny ass pussy right now. I am ,basically. I really don't want to work another night at that stupid job, I just want to chill and get my shit together for my new job. I've worked there three days but start full time on Dec. 7th. I actually really like it. The owner is definitely a little weird, but maybe he'll grow on me when I'm not so nervous about just starting and having to make a good impression. I haven't really even spent that much time with him yet. He wasn't there on Saturday. I worked with the produce manager, an older, maybe in his sixties, man who seems picky and old-fashioned but very, very nice. He is obviously a hard worker who is also, probably, extremely reliable and trustworthy. And then there is a girl/woman named Eva who is a produce worker. She trained me so far in the produce area. She just recently graduated from Keene State, as far as I've can gather from the snippets of conversation we've been able to have while working. But so far I really like her. She's calm and easy-going, and down to earth(which is totally cliche, but whatever). She's easy to be around which is important if we're going to be working together. I get along pretty well with other women in most environments like work or school. I try to be a girls girl, as opposed to the type of woman who will ditch her girlfriends for a guy. I know some people who know me will say I haven't always lived up to that ideal, and I'd have to admit they were right. But I really try. When I've let the girls down for a guy, though, in my defense, it was always a guy I really, really loved, not just some passing fancy. I'm not sure that really makes it okay. But anyway, my point is that she seems the same way. I'm a pretty good judge of character. I generally know when someone is shady or not. I don't always make the most thoughtful decisions regarding such people, but I always know when I'm taking a risk with someone. The only other person I've worked with is a general worker named Peter. Also, from the little we've spoken, I think he also just graduated from Keene State. Both of them are able to be teachers, but work at the health food store instead. I guess I have to understand that because I could see myself doing the same silly thing. At least they're only in their twenties. Here I am, thirty years old, almost thirty-f'n-one (I feel so freakin OLD!) I know I'm not really that old (especially considering people just keep living longer and longer these days) but I could be a lot healthier and a lot more accomplished by now.
But anyhow, Peter trained me on my very first day on which we were directed by the Boss Man to put away a grocery order together. He showed me the general layout and where to put stuff and find stuff, where EXACTLY (and this is very important, per Boss Matt, that price stickers are placed in very precise locations on each product. He wants the customer to have to pick up the item to find the price. He claims that once they have the item in their hand, that's half the battle of getting them to make the purchase. I disagree, I hate having to search for a f'n price tag. Do they want to sell shit or play games? WTF?)to put the price tags. Of course I did as I was told as if it made all the sense in the world. Peter is generally pretty agreeable, I can't complain about him as a trainer or co-worker unless of course, dear readers, you can understand how uncomfortable it can sometimes be to work in the company of an absurdly good-looking man. I mean, he's like, Calvin Klein underwear model good-looking. He's tall with almond eyes and light brown hair. It's not normal for someone to be that unnaturally hot. It's just not right. Of course he has a girlfriend, who is probably stunning and tall and athletically slender. And she probably has perfect skin. I'm jealous of her and I don't even know her. How lame is that? But, of course, I promptly told him I lived with someone so he didn't feel uncomfortable. I mean it wasn't the first thing I said, obviously, but I did not flirt or in any way act inappropriately, nor will I ever. I will only admire from afar. Besides being painfully self-conscious and shy with hot men, I would never move in on a taken man unless it was totally, undeniably meant to be. But that doesn't stop my palms and pits from sweating when he leans across me to place a tub of oatmeal on the shelf. I'm sure I'll get ahold of myself over time, as the reality of how far fetched a fantasy it is to think he would ever be interested in me anyhow. Talk about beauty and the beast...

Anyhow, I'm really happy to be working days, normal length days at that. We have every Sunday off I guess. I thought it was open, but I guess that was just the Sunday before the holiday last week, which is why I was confused. So that's cool. Although I would work whenever, just no more third shift. There's at least a bathroom and reliable heat. And people to talk to. And a discount, twenty percent, which is pretty generous really. So I've already started buying some of my food there. I hope to eventually get most of it there. I used to be so concerned with my health, I was so fit and healthy until about five years ago. With the addiction and the methadone, I just got lost and stuck and unhealthy. I need to find my way back to my original values, at least the ones that were positive for me. I hat being fat. I'm so unhappy. Not that I'm all that fat compared to the general public. But I feel like shit. And I know why. I eat like shit, sleep like shit, and generally neglect my health. That being said, I need to suck it up and go make my breakfast/dinner and get some sleep. I promise to make an effort to write more as my life calms down and gains some semblance of normalcy.

I want to write about this book I'm reading which is making me consider becoming a vegetarian again. At least all but on special occasions when I know the meat came from a local farm where the animal was also butchered locally by someone I know, so I know that the animal wasn't tortured. The meat industry is seriously Fucked! But that's for another post.

Despite all my bitching and complaining, I know I'm taking steps in a better direction. I'm at least putting myself in a job where I can make new friends and I'm not totally isolated, Mikey's little mommy/housekeeper/cheerleader, anymore. I won't be so drained by my job anymore that I can't even consider looking for ways out or signing up for classes. I will be able to actually take classes soon. I can walk to the campus from my new job, so I could take some evening classes. I also want to take yoga classes after work. I've been looking into possible classes around town, there are plenty, but my stupid job interfered with them. Well, not anymore. I am definitely on a better track than I was, anything would be better than that place, almost.

Sorry if this was a crazy, all over the place rant that made no sense. It's what I do best.

Friday, November 20, 2009

I'm sorry I haven't responded to individual posts like I normally do. I'm totally sleep deprived, frantically hemming my new pants last minute (only short people know what I'm going through, nothing fits!).
still have to shower....shit!

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Yippee! I got the Job!!!! Thank You!!

Well, I don't know how you guys did it....anyone who knocks the power of group prayer is just whack.....because I got the job!!!! Thank You! Although I really hope SB's roof did not cave in in the process!!

I'm sorry I made you all play the waiting game w/me. I so thought, after the interview, that I had it in the bag pretty much. But then the guy didn't call, like, for days. And I figured maybe someone said something crappy about me or something. That sometimes happens, you think someone is your friend, or that you got along with an employer and it turns out they secretly hate you. Well, actually, that only happened once and I was too hurt and shocked to ever ask the person what the hell happened(a story for another time. If I don't hurry this post along I'll be in the emergency room for burning the skin off my upper lip with Nair. oooh, gross, I know). But I guess the guy just takes his sweet ass time making a decision. But good things come to those who wait. Does is matter that I couldn't eat or sleep while waiting? No.

I'm going in tomorrow to work some training hours because I can't start full-time for two weeks because I need to give notice at my other job. But I'm going to see what it's like tomorrow just to make sure there's not something about it that I hate before I ditch my other job permanently. I'm sure it will be a better fit for me than where I am either way. But the owner, Matt, the one who hired me is a little off, I guess you could say. He's nice but seems VERY picky and manipulative. But those are not necessarily traits I can't work with, I mean, can't we all be that way sometimes. He is not paying me as much as I thought he would either. In the interview he said I would be making more because of the responsibility, but now he wants to only pay me eight-fifty until he "sees what I'm capable of". That is fair as long as once he sees I'm good he doesn't play games with me, putting off paying me what I'm worth. I'll accept it until I'm trained but if I'm doing ordering and having that type of responsibility, I think I should get at least the ten I was making before. I just hope he isn't taking advantage of the fact that I'd do almost anything to not have to work nights anymore. Oh, well, I'm not going to stress over it too much because even if he sucks after all and the pay is crap, at least I won't be giving myself cancer from fucking up my circadian rhythms and lack of sunlight, not to mention the massive exposure to exhaust fumes for twelve hours at a time. I think it's really important to support small, privately owned health food stores, so at least I can have pride in what I do.

Anyhow, sorry I was avoiding posting. I was SO embarrassed thinking I didn't make the cut as a frickin grocery stocker/cashier. What a loser!!! I was telling myself that I was just too lazy to post but really I didn't want to admit, publicly, that I was a failure. It's not as if I was applying to work for NASA, you know? I guess that makes clear just how paranoid and self-loathing I truly am.

Thank you all for your positive thoughts, I do really believe there is power in positive though, or prayer if that suits you better. I think the guy was on the fence about me, and whatever pushed him over to me side...I'm grateful. I think this job has the potential to improve my life. On that note, I'll finish up right now because I need to get ready to go to TJ Maxx to get a new outfit for my first day at my new job, well, sort of first day anyhow. Oh, think of all the excuses to buy new clothes!! And I might get my nails painted. I'd like a haircut but I'll probably need to make an appointment somewhere.

Yippee!!! To!!! Me!!!

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Everyone Pray for me that I get this new Job, Please

So, I dropped off my application/resume the other day at the health food store. I met the owner and we spoke for a few minutes. It was really busy so he said he'd look at my info and call me if he wanted an interview. I felt pretty sure that he'd at least call me for another meeting.
So today at one I did have an interview. This time we sat in his office and had a pretty lengthy discussion about my experience working in health food stores and on farms, my schooling, my ideas about what makes a good working environment, and what his expectations would be if I got the job. It lasted almost two hours. He said it was a record for him. I think that has to be a good sign. I think we hit it off pretty well and would probably work well together.
I thought I was applying for some cashier job or stocking shelves, taking orders. But he wants me(if I get hired) to be a buyer for the grocery department; making sure all the regularly stocked items aren't getting low, and then on top of that I would be researching new products and designing end caps to display some of the new items. It would be like a dream come true for me if I really get hired.

Anyhoo, I have to go to the store w/Mike so we can get Italian ice. He's been sick all day and can't eat anything but popsicles and ice. He ate all my tangerine pops. I'll elaborate more on the job later. But a plea goes out to all my(very few) faithful readers: Please pray that I get this job, it would change my whole life for the better.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

So, I've sort of mentioned how I'm looking around for a new job. I hate to give up benefits and vacation time, but the negatives far outweigh the positives in my current job. I didn't finish college so I only have an Associates right now. That is about as good as having a high school diploma, really. I'm qualified to do nothing. Unless someone wants to pay me big bucks to read to them, I'm really good at that. Yeah, didn't think so. So I'm basically stuck working retail or service jobs until I catch a super lucky break and/or finish school. I don't mind too much as long as my employer treats me with respect and I make at least ten dollars an hour to start. I don't think that's asking a lot.
So I found a job opening at a local health food store. And if you have to work retail, those are the places to do it. The people who open small, local privately owned health food stores don't usually do it to get rich. They usually do it because they care...and a lot of them are already rich I've noticed. So generally the atmosphere is really laid back and the customers are happy because the people who shop there are generally rich and therefore more relaxed than the harried regular guy. Or you get the poor, idealistic students and crunchy types. But all those people are much more pleasant to deal with than your average consumer. I've worked at three health food stores in my life, all privately owned and very small. Two of them were the best two jobs I've ever had. I would still work at either one of them if they weren't in such weird towns I don't live in anymore. I've never been happier than when I worked at those stores.
So, obviously, I want the job. It would be SO, SO much better than where I work now. The HF store is open from, like, 10-6. My job now consists of three twelve hours days, 7pm-7am, and one six hour day, from 7pm-1am. I hate it. I hate the long days, I get no sleep. Then I'm so tired on my days off, I'm practically useless until Saturday and then I'm right back at work the next day. I have no time to exercise or spend time outside. And I'm on the opposite schedule as Mike and that only complicates matters in a one bedroom apartment.
I'm going to that health food store first thing in the morning with my resume. I am not taking no for an answer. They HAVE to hire me. I have experience with natural foods. I know organic produce, I spent years working almost year round on an organic farm. I'll work every weekend, weekend shmeakend, to me, it's all the same. I have a ton of customer service experience, I can work a register, I'll stock shelves, clean bathrooms, sweep sidewalks, I'm easy. I just want to work somewhere where they consider me a human being, not a number, a machine, or worse, just one small component of their great, big, corporate robot.
I want to enjoy going to work. I want to feel like I'm at least somewhat contributing to the greater good. Rather than sabotaging it like I am by working at a trucking company.
Then, if I get hired, I can give my notice and my new boss can take his forced Christmas hours and.....well, he can work them himself. So there.

Monday, November 9, 2009

I'm relaxed alright, maybe a little too relaxed........

One of my biggest issues is lack of sleep. So I thought that maybe if I got some calming tea and drank it before bed in the morning I would sleep better. So I found some nice, flavorful tea in the natural foods section of my market. And while I was there I was perusing some of the items and remembered Melatonin helps sleep cycles also. So I got some of that too. So this morning right before getting off work, around five a.m., I drank a cup of the tea. That was relaxing. Then, around ten or eleven, maybe, I took the melatonin. And within a half hour I was nodding out while trying to read my book. I slept more soundly than I have since my drug induced days. Only problem is, I only had about five-six hours of sleep time. I'm not ready to wake up yet, AT ALL! I feel sleepy, oh, so sleepy. I think I may fall asleep sitting up at the desk. That would be bad. I think I'll try to keep using it though because I'll probably get used to it. And I'll just try to take it earlier too. Because if I could sleep that well everyday, it would be a miracle.
As far as supplements go, Omega oils have helped me a lot too. If I take at least two a day, I feel pretty calm and together. But if I forget to take them for a couple days, I get so irritable I could punch a hole in a punching bag. I don't know why it has this effect on me, but it does. And it helps my skin, hair, and nails a bit too.

But a warning to all....make sure if you take melatonin that you give yourself at least eight hours to sleep. Or else you'll be like me. Looking like a relapsed H addict nodding out onto the desk at work. Wouldn't want that, although I feel veeeeeryy caaalllmm........

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Support International Squatting Rights!!!!

Around here, almost any road you drive down, you will see at least a few abandoned homes along the way. Some are probably for sale, but others have been unoccupied for years and years. It's so frustrating that houses are so expensive to own and so difficult to get loans for, and rentals are so overpriced and shabby, and all along the roads of rural New England are safe, comfortable homes with no one living in them.
( Now I realize that many folks will be all up in arms at my next statements. I must say to them: think what you want, but unless you have something truly thoughtful and constructive to say, please refrain from commenting. I am not interested in the thoughts of people who are too cowardly to publicly stand by their opinions. You are a waste of space, a dismembered idea floating through cyberlives, you're iceberg lettuce - as in what's the point? So please....spare me.)

I support the rights of squatters. I think that if someone is not going to care for a home, and spends so little time in a place that they don't even notice people living there for years and years, then maybe they don't deserve to own it. Some squatter activists like to say that we are all descended from squatters, and in one way or another that's probably true. In the 1800's there were significant laws passed in the US for homesteaders. Homesteaders were basically squatters. They simply had to make it out west, stake out some land, and build a 12x14 ft home and then manage to stay alive for five years. At that point they could petition for legal ownership of the land. I just read about it on, seriously. I wonder what's up with those laws today?

From the little bit that I've read about squatting movements so far, it seems like it's pretty prevalent throughout the entire world. Especially in really poor countries, obviously, people build huge communities of hand built shacks without the permission of the owner on which such communities are built. There are famous squatting communities all over the world, it's actually pretty amazing. I'm really hungry right now, so I'm doing a sort of half-assed post but count on hearing a lot more about squatting in the future. Because it's my new favorite idea.

They have their own symbol which I, unfortunately, cannot put online right now due to more Internet-at-work difficulties. But count on seeing that soon, too.

Anyway, I'm all about squatting as a political statement and simply to fulfill a housing need. Maybe if more people were willing to risk the certainty of comfort and predictability in order to fight for the basic ability to have a fair access to safe, affordable housing, our nations would not get away with charging such high prices for something all people should have - a realistically affordable housing option. The fact is that it is becoming really difficult for people in low income brackets to own homes, and rental prices are soaring. If these people could obtain a mortgage, the costs could conceivably be much lower than renting.....

But, I need a break from thinking of the housing issues of the world. I'm so lucky to have such a yummy dinner tonight. It must suck not to be me right now....especially if you are model-thin and deprive yourself daily of anything delicious and fattening. In that case, you probably really wish you could eat my fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, squash, and my second attempt at pecan pie which came out much better than the first. But I'll probably never weigh under a hundred pounds ever again and you will probably never stuff your face with solidified corn syrup mixed with nuts. Oh, well....

Summer in November

Wow. It was almost like summer today, it was so warm and sunny. I planted some bulbs in my yard, I don't think it's too late, they should be okay. Some crocus, tulips, and daffodils. I love flowers, how typical is that? Does anyone actually dislike flowers? I mean, really, what's not to like?

Another super long night at work. I want a new job, but man, it is hard to find much out there these days. Especially for someone who does not have extensive education and piles of degrees. I really need to finish/continue school.

I have a serious lack of places to sit in my apartment. I think we have, maybe, three chairs. And the dogs take over the bucket chair and it smells like dog and no one wants to sit there, understandably. I've been looking into getting some new chairs because I think it would make all the difference. I want big, cushy, super comfortable, could-fall-asleep in them chairs. You can find some okay ones for a couple hundred bucks online, maybe after Christmas. I've noticed that as I get my apartment organized and livable, Mikey and I get along better. It's really distracting and stressful living amongst massive clutter. Because it seems to be having a positive impact on my life, it makes me want to make it nicer and nicer.

Up until I got really addicted to dope and thought of nothing else, my apartment/living space was always clean and organized. obsessively so. Then I guess I just stopped caring and it became a nightmare. the worse it got, the less I wanted to deal with it. So it went on like that for about five years. And then I got "clean" and I was embarrassed to have friends over and it was clearly making me crazy and constantly stressed to have my living space in such disarray. And so I've been systematically throwing away everything that is old or I no longer use and it's awesome!

So tonight I brought the last of my piled up bills with me to work. I have so much down time I figured I may as well utilize it for my own benefit when possible. Maybe then i won't resent all the time I have to spend here quite so much. I figure I may as well fill up their trash with discarded envelopes, eh?

Can't wait.

It's amazing how simple things like good socks and shoes and the proper snacks and lots of variety make a night of work seem not so crappy. Maybe I'm just pathetically easy to please. Food and shoes, how lame.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Corporate Greedsters....I hope you choke on your money

I know I complain a lot. I know it's because I did a really bad job of making good choices when I was younger so now I'm paying for it with a life that amounts to barely scraping by and hating most of what I have to do every day. I love being alive when I can enjoy the good things in life, like food, comfort, friendship, animal companionship, and outdoor adventure. And now that I know what I should have done to create the life I wish I had, I'm trying to do that stuff now, but it's harder as you get older to finish school because you still have to pay rent and eat and all that stuff. So I see all these years stretched out before me where not that much changes and I'm still just stuck.

I'm in a really bad mood right now. I'm having female issues and there's no bathroom in the stupid shacks they make us work from - well, there's a bathroom in the back shack but not in the front. So when you have to go to the bathroom, you have to walk about a half a mile to get there. There is also no reliable heat and hardly any insulation so it gets really cold. Then you turn on the heat which blows really hot air right on your head and back until it feels like you're being roasted alive, so you turn the heat off and get cold sweats. Or you can sit with the heat on and the window open until someone comes by and bugs out about wasted energy.

I wish I could have a job that consisted of standing up for what's right in this world. I wish I could feel like I had some way or ability to change all the fucked up shit in this world. Or at least feel like I was trying to change things. Working at a fucking trucking company, I feel like I'm just exacerbating certain issues like poor fuel economy, high food prices, and pollution. Not to mention, by working at a company like this and not standing up for my rights it's as if I'm condoning the way they treat their workers. And not just us security guards, everyone in the whole warehouse except those at the very top get treated like they are no different than a truck wheel or a power jack.

My boss told me last week that he could "force" me to work mandatory overtime on Christmas week. I'm not scheduled to work Christmas. My family lives three hours away, I've already made holiday plans - unless he's going to tie me to the fuckin' chair and puppet my hands across the friggin keyboard - nobody FORCES me to do anything. Nobody but myself can force myself. Is it 1772? Am I a slave? An indentured servant? NO, NO, and NO!!! So Force? I don't think so. I, on the other hand, can force you to fire me and then I can force you to pay me unemployment while I sit at home and half assed pretend to look for a job while I really sit around and watch movies and smoke up all day long. I can force HIM to work Christmas when I call from Boston on the morning of and say I am not going to make it. More money, more responsibility. If no one takes the overtime, it's his responsibility to work the shift, he's the supervisor, I didn't take the f'n job. He's the one who decided to okay someone vacation time over the holiday before making sure it could be covered. Fuck him. This job is not worth it. I only see my family on the holidays. I look forward to it so much. Not to mention my mom is highly emotionally unstable and I am NOT telling her I'm not coming after I already told her I was. This is not a career for me. I can get a ten dollar an hour job anywhere. Sure, I like working alone most of the time - but I'm sure I can find something else where I'm alone a lot only during the daytime, and no holidays. I'm thinking of volunteering at a local humane society until I get my feet in the door, and then maybe when a paid worker quits I could get a job there. I would love, love, love to work with animals. I prefer animals to people more than I should admit.
Fuck, I could work at a gas station and it would be a lot less grief than this. When you don't love what you do, and when a job is not a career, and the pay is shit - it's probably not a good idea to attempt to leverage me with threats. Is he f'n crazy? Then he tells me because I don't have kids I should work the holiday. Can you say "Sue your pants off, asshole?" That's a lifestyle choice I have made consciously. The planet is overpopulated with kids whose parents suck at raising them and I'm going to be punished for opting against adding to the problem? Why not just say all gay people have to work holidays since they shouldn't have kids anyway? Why stop there? What about old people - make them work, they're useless anyway, right, corporate greedsters? Isn't there some sort of organization I can report this place to?

At least OSHA would probably have an issue with no bathroom available to us out front, heat that breaks all the time when we have to go out in the rain and snow. No hazard pay for working nights, outside in inclement weather. We never get safety bonuses like the rest of the warehouse. We have to work alone, in the dark with strange men coming from all over the country. I'm sorry, but I don't think it's asking too much to be compensated for all the risk we encounter. I also don't think it's out of line to want to work in a place which provides the basic necessities like bathrooms and heat. Right in our handbook and on signs all over the facility they claim to provide a safe, healthy, comfortable, and productive working environment. I don't feel safe, it's certainly NOT healthy, absolutely the opposite of comfortable - all of which lessens productivity.

On top of all this, they threaten to fire you if you look into unions activity at all. Human Resources works for the company, not the employee so how, really, am I supposed to feel protected by them? What recourse do I have? Is quitting or getting myself fired the only way?
I know it's not but I just don't know where to begin or if it's even a battle I want to fight. One shitty job is not so different from another shitty job while all I'm trying to do is work my way to the other side of shitty jobs and shitty life altogether. I've aways been a proponent of surrounding oneself with people you want to be like. I really, really don't want to EVER be like any of these people. I do not want to be a corporate slave drone all my life and I won't.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Happy Halloween

Just a quick Good Morning Halloween post. I didn't make it too far with my pumpkin carving last night. Actually, I only carved one small one and set aside the seeds in a bowl with water for now. I'm going to roast them later when I'm done with all of them. As long as I finish before dark I'll be happy. I'm not really a big drinker, I never have been. I never even got drunk until I was, like, twenty-two. Isn't that weird? I turn out to be, like, a huge heroin addict but hate drinking. So I wasn't good for much after a few glasses of champagne. I pretty much passed out after we ate. Alcohol, rich food and even richer dessert makes for some heavy sleeping. Until about two in the morning when you spring up with your throat dry and your head beginning to ache, having to pee. I drank about a liter of seltzer water and went back to sleep. I feel pretty good today.
It's beautiful out. Balmy and gray and really windy. It's what I think England would be like in some parts. I've only seen London so I wouldn't really know, firsthand, what the countryside looks like on a gray, balmy afternoon.
Anyhow, about to cook a late breakfast with the leftover ham. The dinner was so good, but the pie was horrible. It was the first pecan pie I've ever made so I suppose it's not surprising it sucks. Mike likes it but I don't know how. It's so over-baked and chewy and crunchy all at the same awful time. Next time I won't cook it for so long and I'm not so sure about using all dark corn syrup, maybe it should be half light corn syrup - or maybe I just cooked it to the point of looking like mud. I'll have to ask my Mom. She makes great food. That's a big part of why I'm so food obsessed. We had a delicious, home-made meal every night for dinner and usually breakfast too. And my Mom made our lunch everyday, every year all through school. And then when I went to boarding school we had, like, a gourmet, all-you-can-eat cafeteria. So I've been lucky to have been raised on great food. So it really sucks that I'm not the best cook at all. But at least I try.
Well, I better get started if we are going to eat early enough to still consider it brunch. And if I want to have a prayer of getting my pumpkins carved before dark.

Happy Halloween!!

Friday, October 30, 2009

If only we Lived to Two Hundred Years old......

Life is worth living if only for all the moments like this one added up. At the end of life if you can look back and remember more good times than bad, I guess what more can you ask for? Maybe I'm easy to please, but I'm happy if there's good food, pleasant atmosphere, music, and company makes it all better if it's good company. It's just Mike and I tonight. But that's fine as there aren't too many friends in our lives these days. So many live too far from here or have recently moved.....or turned out to be not such good friends after all. I'd love to have my little brother, or my Mom, or our friend Mikey over to eat with us. But they're all at least two hours away. We'll see them for the holidays. Hopefully little bro Sam will be up next weekend. I love to think I made him have a good time away from home. I like to make him food and see him and Mike enjoy each other so much.
Let me just say that shack has saved my life. If he didn't have it he'd just be sitting around the apartment moping. But he's so happy to have a place to do his art right outside his door. He's talked about it for so long, and it's finally become a reality. It doesn't feel so claustrophobic in here anymore. I can do my thing without feeling hovered over and he feels purposeful which seems to make all the difference for men. They need to be useful or they get depressed. Also he's back on his welbutrin which makes all the difference. He's like a different person.
Anyhow, my perfect night. I've got a big ol' hunk of ham baking in the oven and it smells divine and it fills every inch of my small apartment with maple and clove. It's mixing with the sweet scent of the pecan pie and roasted squash. I'm going to blend the squash up with a yam and make mashed potatoes, corn bread, brussel sprouts and creamed corn. I think I'll make corn bread too. I jumped on the StairMaster earlier and did some sit ups and stretches so I can stuff my face without guilty images of fat rolls from my belly ruining the whole sumptuous feast.
Although,I was looking at old photos of Mike and I today and I wanted to cry. I used to be so skinny. And then when I got on the M-done I got SO fat. The pictures are horrifying. I can't believe I didn't notice and do something to stop it. I was oblivious. I had such strong cravings for sweets. The chocolate eclairs and the key lime pie from a bakery down the road from me would call my name. What could I do, I could not ignore the sweet little goodnesses. I try to justify the whole hideous binge time by claiming I had been undernourished throughout the heroin years and needed to get my vitamin count back up. But that's a lie. All the doctors I ever encountered were always shocked by how healthy I was for an addict. Healthier than a lot of non-addicts. Probably due to my obsession with good food. And I worked at a farm so I was fit and tan and ate well. I just got blasted too. Aside from needle holes, I was always pretty good. Probably better off in some ways from now. I've lost a lot but still have about twenty pounds to go before I can fit into my old clothes. Aaaah, this is not what I wanted to think about.
I wanted to revel in indulgence and all the good, sweet, euphoric moments. The champagne, the salty, sweet smell of the ham. The candles and the music. And I'm so excited to be about to begin my drunken carving of my six, yes, that's six, pumpkins. I'm going to line them up on a staircase outside of my house. I'll try to take a good pic of them all lit up when I'm done. Wish me luck-pray I lose no appendages.

I can't decide if I like the Summer or Fall the best of all seasons. Or maybe winter, but only when there's snow. Or maybe spring, but only if it's not too, too rainy. So maybe Fall is the best after all, because summer can be too hot. But what can fall be too much of. I suppose sometimes it rains too much in the fall.

Going to carve my pumpkins and then roast the seeds. It's this kind of crap that makes me think about having kids after all only because they enjoy it so much. I'm always trying to get all my adult friends to carve pumpkins or decorate ginger bread houses and they just don't get the joy like I do. I think I need kids for that. Maybe someday. If only we lived to be two hundred, I wouldn't feel so rushed.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Who doesn't Want a Porcupine Ring?

In this months Oprah magazine there is a way better picture of these rings and more. I told Mikey I want one for Christmas but...he can't even remember, after seven years, that I hate grape soda. He still brings me grape soda unless I remind him, "No Grape!"

What is Wrong with People?

I don't know why it's bothering me so much but my upstairs neighbors are having a baby in, like, five months and they are the biggest fuck heads - it's making me worry for them, the baby, and myself if it gets to that point (I hope to God it does not). First, the boyfriend is completely unfaithful to the girl. I watch him bring girls up to their apartment all the time while his gf is at work, pregnant with their child. He is unemployed, again. He had a job for about three months at one point but has since been laid off. Right before we moved in he was released from jail for his second drug selling offense. He was already on probation for selling coke and then he does it again. We live in a really small town, the police know what everyone does. It doesn't help that if you could see through trees, you'd be able to see the popo dept.
So the last and second time he was jailed she was pregnant too. She had a miscarriage - probably due at least partially to the stress of being left to pay for an apartment all by herself when she's been living off coke money since they met. So she has a miscarriage while he's in jail, then about three and a half months ago she had a cyst removed from her uterus - and now she's pregnant again! And the doctors (she says, and it makes sense) tell her any undue stress, mental or physical could cause another miscarriage. Apparently the boyfriend doesn't care too much about the impact of his actions on her. And she doesn't seem too swift either. They have no health insurance - because she didn't pick up the option her work gave her last year because she said she needed all the $ to support herself because duffus was in jail. Really? She couldn't spare thirty dollars a week? And instead of waiting a few months to get her pregnant so she could pick up the insurance this year, they don't and now they won't pick her up after the fact. To me, that is just stupid! Why begin your life as a family in mega debt that could have been avoided? Do they have any idea how much it costs to have a baby? Well apparently they didn't until I said something when I found out they had no health coverage. I was all "Oh, shit! That's got to be at least twenty thousand in the hole! Ouch!" Because my first boyfriend, his mom had him when she was fifteen, she had no insurance. We met when he was twenty and she was still bitching about how she was still paying for his birth! So now the dumb asses have decided he should start selling cocaine again to make ends meet. Maybe getting a JOB would be a good idea.
He's still on probation, his prob officer stops by unannounced, he has to check in at least monthly(pee tests and such) and he's been ratted out twice previously. If he gets caught selling again he's going to jail for, like, ten years. He's also been in trouble for flashing a gun at some kids at Friendly's because they made disparaging remarks about his dead brother. Grow up! A Gun?!? For real, you sell like a half oz a week, if that! And he thinks he's, like, some kind of baller! Who you gonna shoot, you idiot? Anyhow, doesn't he realize he could easily miss his baby being born? What if she miscarries again when he gets arrested, again. And they way he runs his mouth and brags and flaunts money and drives around in the middle of the night w/product and a scale in his whoopdy (sp?)-ass 1995 Honda Civic - he's asking for it.
Now, all this stresses me out just because it sucks to think that yet another child is being brought into this world with a dickhead for a father and an idiot for a mother, with no health insurance taboot. But that is not my main issue. My real concern is that he keeps sticking his F'n cocaine in Mikey's face. And I've heard Mike, on several occasions say he's not interested and please to not tell him about it. But then he asks to borrow our digi scale (which has never been used to weight powder drugs, only weed and methadone for us these days. If we buy dope it's recreational for a special day, certainly not enough to need to weigh). Wow, he must be really big time if he doesn't even have his own scale. He does now because we didn't even want it back after he used it because it smelled so bad of coke. Mikey has promised he has no desire to get high, but I can't help wondering if he's just appeasing me until I go to work and then, Whammo! I am not giving my money to those F'n losers. And if our neighbor really considered Mike a friend, then he wouldn't be enticing him with drugs when he knows our history and has been told to keep it away from us.
On Friday night, as soon as the shit was dropped off at his house (by what looked like high school kids) he's calling Mike up asking if he wants to come up and check it out. That time Mike did blow him off and declined saying we were eating and he didn't really care. But he'd already told him that. Is the kid just dumb, or is Mike telling lies? Both? I left him with NO cash and as soon as I got to work I checked our account online so I'll know if any money is missing. I will probably be able to tell if he used too, and he probably knows that. He's such a hypochondriac baby that he'll whine about how shitty he's feeling so much I'll know something is up and if I grill him he'll give it up whether he wants to or not in his bastard little smirk. I also made him swear on his grandfather's soul who is dead and I really don't think he'd do that if was lying. But I'm wicked trusting and always want to believe the best in people and I'd be easy to lie to if you really were intent on lying and didn't care at all how upset I got once I knew the truth. Either way, I have no choice but to trust him because I have to leave for work at some point. And he's there at the house, a grown man whose gonna do what he's gonna do when it comes down to it. Regardless of my wishes, and I know that.
I also know something else - if I find out that that stupid motherF'n loser got Mike to use that shit, when he's at home alone w/out anyone to keep an eye on him especially - I will do everything in my power to make him wish he had acted otherwise. And if Mike dies of an overdose, I swear I will turn him into his P.O. so fast the police will issue me an honorary badge. You fuck with my family, it's war. It's like no one but me can call my sister a slut or my mother a drunk - it's just not cool. Unless you're, like, a social worker or a shrink or something and it's your job to state the obvious regardless of personal feelings. I will tell his bitch about every girl he had ever brought over, I'll tell her every time he's smoked weed and lied about it, I'll tell her how he cat calls our neighbor and asks her to flash her boobs all day long, I'll tell her how he complains about her as soon as she walks away and how he hopes having a baby will make her less clingy. I'll tell her how he tells everyone they're never getting married - he won't be able to walk sideways in front of my window without knowing I'll repeat it to his girlfriend. So he best back off the person who helps pay my rent or there's gonna be problems.
I don't have a problem, morally, with drugs - obviously, as my past clearly illustrates. I don't even think selling drugs is inherently evil. I just think when you're a two time loser with a baby on the way, maybe it's time to look into an alternative source of income. Like a real job. Suck it up, if it's too good to be true, it is. Very few people get rich selling drugs, easy money, fast money, is usually gone money. Gone by the police, or gone by bad spending habits, or both. Read Freakonomics for crying out loud! Over time, most drug dealers are lucky to end up having made minimum wage. He keeps telling Mike that it's only temporary, a month or two. He says he just wants to make five or ten thousand dollars and then he's done. I don't know what planet he sells drugs on but buying the small quantities he's able to afford, he's never gonna make that much money. Especially spending it as he makes it. He doesn't have a job, I think he says he getting $200/wk on unemployment. She works at RentOne Plus or some shit like Rent-a-Center. So we know she's not raking it in. Are they crazy?
He didn't bother me so much at first, at least then he had a job and seemed to be trying. I never liked her because she's one of those girls who hangs all over her boyfriend when other women are around. Like, attached to his arm, guy can't even move w/out bumping into her. And when I see her away from our house she ignores me. I hate that! We live in the same building. She could at least say hello. I always wave, sometimes, like, five times, and she pretends not to see me! I swear. It drives me bonkers. And one time she brought these hideous pleather boots outside, they were obviously way too big for me. She hands them to me and says, "I won't wear these, I'm way to picky". Well, unless you got them used, it looks like you wore the shit out of them. And she dresses like shit and that was really insulting. I dress really nicely when I'm not at work, at work I have to wear an obscenely ugly uniform of gold and black, awesome, but not my fault at all. I took the stupid boots, said "thanks" and threw them away at the dump later that week. At the time I was hoping she'd come to throw her trash away and see them. But then I found out that they haven't brought their trash to the dump for probably the past six months (it's free and about a mile from our house). They've been stacking it in the garage in this little room attached to the back. The pile reached almost to my waist and was torn to pieces and strewn across the floor from the animals at night. Mike and I found their dirty, little secret when we were checking to see if he could use the room to blow glass. The trash discovery led us to buy the shack from Home Depot instead. From all their trash, mice have infested the garage and they are climbing into the engine of their cars and fucking up the wiring. Serves them right, the trasholes.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

The dummy's haven't figured out I can get onto Blogger now when I'm on the back gate computer. Ha, Ha!

Ha, Ha! to me when they find out and fire me or something for writing about all kinds of crap. Oh, well...until that time comes.

I love the nights when I have a good book, good food and something good to smoke. Got a fatty, on my way out to enjoy, savor and relax to.....then I can eat my food oh so appreciatively. Yummy.

I love food. I love to eat. Maybe a little too much. There is just something so calm and relaxing about really good tasting, eye catching, aromatic food. Good food is one of the things that make me think the world could be a true paradise if stupid people got their priorities straight. Food, not war.

When I visit my Mom by the NH coast I just have to go to one of those fried seafood places right on the marsh. Those big wooden beach restaurants with picnic tables inside to sit at. Where you order you food at the counter and they fry it up right there, or steam you a lobster or clams if that's your thing. I love lobster but I hate full belly clams, strips are good though. Mikey and I usually share a fisherman's platter but we get the one with the fried lobster too. MMMmmm, it's friedliciously good.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Lazy Sunday

Ahh, quiet. Alone. Peaceful. Mikey has left to drive my brother home. I would have loved for him to stay longer but he had to get back to watch the house while my mom is away for a job. It's nice having people around to break the tension between me and Mike. He and Sam really like each other, they are very similar, and they love to hang out. It's nice to see them having such a good time together. It takes the pressure off me for Mike to have someone else to spend time with. I try to encourage him to cultivate more friendships but he's really bad at putting in the time it takes to be a good friend. I am too. But I use writing and reading and walking the dogs to let out my frustrations. I feel like he just uses me.

Unfortunately we only have the one car so he has to get back to drive me to work tonight. I am going to try to get a ride with my neighbor but I don't want to just assume I can ride with her. I mean she's going there anyhow, but I know how it can be annoying to fit another person into your getting to work routine. I do give her gas money and I give them weed to smoke when we have extra. So she probably will not mind as long as she's not planning to call out or anything.

I tried to avoid the inevitable eye puff from my crying last night. Man, I hate crying. But it just comes out like vomit sometimes, no stopping it. I used a cold washcloth over them, I put eye cream on several times, I tried not to fall asleep right away because for some reason that always makes it worse. Yet still I was forced to wear my sunglasses out of the house despite the gloom. I didn't want people to think I thought it was Halloween already and I was wearing a puffy eyed mask. Don't want to scare any children.

I can't believe the weekend is over already. We were scrambling around since Thursday to get ready for the stupid festival so it seems like I just haven't had any time to really chill - because I haven't. And now back to work. And Mikey doesn't understand that it's really annoying to watch him do whatever he wants, sleep whenever, blow glass for a few hours, and then mess around on the computer for a bunch more hours, go to some crappy fast food joint and begin it all again. And I'm a bitch because I get frustrated. I swear I don't yell at him or cuss or name call. I'll get home from work in the morning and say something like, "Aw man, you didn't have time to do those dishes you promised you'd do? It's really hard for me to have to do all that stuff and go to work. I don't get any sleep, Mike. Can you please help out more during the weekdays, I can't do it all my self. I'm not the maid." And I shit you not, his response will go something along the lines of, "Shut the fuck up! Why do you have to yell, you're such a fucking bitch. I said I'd do it later." I used to get really, really mad at that shit. But now I'm just trying to tell myself it will be over soon and some other poor girl can deal with him.

For some odd reason I keep have these waves of nausea. I couldn't eaten anything bad, I hardly ate anything yesterday. And I admit I drank some champagne when I got home last night to help me relax. But I only had a couple glasses. I'm not a big drinker but two glasses of bubbly shouldn't make me sick, eh? Either way, I'm going to try to walk it off. Dogs need a walk anyhow and I want to take them out before this precipitation really starts to fall. I can't tell if it's rain or snow.

Sorry about all the bitching lately. I feel like people can read it or not. It's not forcing a poor friend to be subjected to it because they don't want to be rude. That's why I like blogging. It's like talking to friends but it's not. People only read if they want to. And I figure even if nobody but me ever reads it, it still is a chronicle of my life which I'll probably enjoy looking back at one day. I just need a place to vent sometimes.

If I don't get back here today...everyone have a lovely, lazy Sunday.

VV is the shit

VV is the shit
We all have to love VV