stop drop and roll. you're on fire.

whooooo was supposed to teach me to be proud of my body? who. i've struck a nerve. my eyes are welling. but why?
whyyyyy is physique such an issue?
what came first, the ideal image in my head of what i should look like, or all the external cues that have been telling me what is attractive?
i am one to internalize a lot. i do the mental log thing, and i've been tracking what is acceptable and what is just plain grossbased on what i've heard others say over the years, and what i've seen that is labeled 'okay' and 'not-okay', and i do okay generally speaking. "okay" here meaning i can put on a smile and graciously blush when co-workers tell me they like parts of my outfit, accessories, etc.
but when it comes down to what i see when those feel-good outfits are folded or in the hamper, well, you saw what happened up there. eyes get all well-y. and you know by that point all bets are off. because at that point, the face is uglier than everything else. those eyes atop my white girl face turn pink and puffy as anything.
does a compliment help? no. not when it comes to this. it just makes me frustrated that i can't see what that person is seeing. some things i know are perfectly fine, like the color of my eyes, and the dimple in my belly button, but, the list pretty much ends there. oh and apparently i have a nice cervix. my gyne told me so. and i won't argue that one just cuz i've never seen it myself and i wouldn't know a good looking cervix from a not-so-good looking cervix anyway.
the point is, i feel like i can't do anything right on this topic. it's part of what's been feeding into my not-so-recent spending spree(s) because i have the gut hope that the proverbial lipstick might make the pig a little i dunno...camouflaged?
anyway, that first statement was just me trying to blame someone. anyone. i can't do that tho, it's not right. it's just my frustration talking.
more later. gotta get back to cleaning.

what does it mean to be slavic?

Bear with me because this might be one of those blog posts where your words can be mis-read. So, when someone comes up with delusions, they could be manifesting from anything. Who knows what this person endured to have such illogical tangential mostly incomprehensible utterances come from her mouth. I can only imagine. Anyway, she thinks i'm Slavic. And someone hit her head. It's sad. She's getting new teeth (dentures) and she's worried about swallowing her new teeth. She was holding her fingers apart to measure her jaw to compare it to her neck to see if her teeth would be small enough to be swallowed. I reminded her that her throat was not actually as wide as her neck and that it wouldn't happen.
Day 1 of my gym plans was successful. The only thing left is a) getting home without falling asleep and b) remembering to remove the wet towel and gym clothes from my car. The natural high lasted quite a while until I started getting serious hunger pangs. And a coughing fit. And i'm still really congested but. What else can I do.
I really hope they don't need me tomorrow. I need to wrap the bf's bday present, get dinner ideas for what i want to cook on Thursday, and STRAIGHTEN THAT HOUSE it's a mess. I also need some space. From this house. I lost my momentum with what I was going to discuss. I'm not sure where Donette is today. Lorris probably killed her. Lorris is not afraid of stink bugs' stink.
Jon at work got me a can of arizona, the 1/2 and 1/2 arnold palmer style. For "fixing" his computer. Or "helping" him with it. I'm not sure what word he used but what happened was, he thought on Friday he logged off and what he did was shut down so he kept hitting enter and clicking the mouse and the screen wouldn't turn on. So i looked at the little button that's supposed to have the power symbol lit up green and sure enough it was black. So he got me a can of arizona. I hope one day to take embarrassing situations in stride the way Jon does. The other theme here is the isolating of fathering tendencies (or receiving interactions as fatherly on my part) that occurs at work. It happens at the group home and at ph. Pts and staff alike. Jon is one such example. On the other hand we have the damning with no praise approach of Vince. Former cop or something like that. His gentle approach is a lot like an owner shoving a dog's face in the pile of feces he left on the carpet. Yup, that pretty much sums it up. It has a lot to do with how one views the situation, or any situation for that matter. Jon looks at the hilarity in a situation. I haven't seen him genuinely insulted yet and I'm not sure I ever will. Vince on the other hand takes everything as a slight. Against him, naturally. Perhaps it's a guilty conscience. Jon is a do-gooder. The one thing a fellow staff member might hold against him is making them look bad or forgotten in the shadow of his do-good-ing-ness. I like Jon, can you tell? Funny, the John at the other job is the father figure. He's short and Italian and balding and verbally compassionate. He has daughters. He wears boat shoes just as long as there isn't snow on the ground. It's the little nostalgic aspects of these people that I appreciate. And I find myself appreciating the CRAP out of these details. Looking for them. Soaking them in like rain on the desert plains of my familial encounters.
These are some of the things I want. For myself and for the bf too. I want him involved. I want dinner at ob at least every other Wednesday. Dinner/lunch at Grammy's every other Sunday. Regular evening dinners with the bf. We do love our food like lil piggies. I worry for our quality of life. We aren't impoverished but...since the lower rungs of the infamous hierarchy of needs are being filled in various ways why not shoot for self-actualization? If I was impoverished, and the basic needs on the lower rungs were not being met, I'd look at those celebrities/rich/famous people and think to myself, "they better be livin it up enough for the both of us, boy. what reason do they have not to??". So, in the spirit of that philosophy, i do want the best for myself. The best that I can manage, that is. I don't mean the best cuts of steak, or the finest China flatware, i mean the healthiest lifestyle I can manage within my means.
So there...food for thought. Hope you were hungry...

STINK bug.

looking around the office i couldn't spot it right away but i just did. it's almost blocked by the glare of the energy saver bulb up there, in its blinding energy saving-ness. i noticed it first when i went to use the bathroom. darn thing was sitting on the side of the doorway, just hangin out. by the time i was done peeing and washing my hands i forgot it was there and knocked it off. i was going to write about how it was dive bombing me while i sat here but that's taking it much too personally. i know that in reality it was doing that bug bounce fly bounce land bounce thing around the lights. it's what they do. they're bugs. it's crawling a bit now. toward the light. i'm drinking mountain dew and reading a fitness magazine.com article on how to make over my motivation. it's called not signing up for more group home shifts than what's really feasible. i'm fearful of resignation because i can't think of a better word for it. i was dropped from supportive and now i never see april. i miss her. she always made me feel better and listening to her talk about herself was very inspiring. i should tell her that...hold on.
***
the irony? gmail will not let me send or save the email i sent to her. does gmail want me to call her and tell her? how come gmail couldn't tell me that it wants me to be more personable BEFORE i typed the whole thing? i'm just being lazy. i realize this. perhaps i should text her...hold on.
***
'message sent'. thank you verizon. the stink bug has traveled down the track of the track lighting fixture to two lights down which is further away from the window but on the next light that is on. i think i should assume the stink bug is a female stink bug and i'd like to name her donette. there was a pt at phbh with that name and she was one tough cookie. i hope she's well. i can't see donette (the stink bug) anymore. oh wait there she is. crawling around the fixture. i wonder what she's looking for. bugs take such risks. i'm pretty sure they're aware of their risks and yet they take them anyway. in the spirit of thinking like a bug and moving forward at the risk of loss or change, i plan on tendering a tender letter of resignation two weeks into january, in the hopes of dropping my mon/fri evening commitment as RC for the sub status instead for february and onward. if someone is going to step on me about it (which i doubt but one never knows) then i'll make my little stink and move on.
i keep telling myself that if i wasn't at work right now i'd be changed in my gym clothes and at the gym that's across from work. i need to magically have the energy really early in the morning to drive up to the n. b. wow and bust out some sweat droplets. is it feasible? leave the house at 6 to be at the gym for 7-8? i'd have to sleep in my gym clothes and bring stuff to shower...it's a lot of prep but i suppose it can be done? maybe get up out of bed at 530 to prep breakfast, lunch and dinner? what about only on tuesdays, thursdays, saturdays and sundays? that would mean only two days with a schedule that's particularly nutty...and it would also mean two of those days would catch days when i'm going home after, and not to the gym (at least for the month of january). the 6th is the bf's bday, and the 11th is our anniversary. perhaps this plan just might work...i feel like the grinch or something. i almost busted out a grinchy grin. out comes the agenda book!
thoughts? anyone? anyone? bueler?

Newbie.

I'm writing from my Microsoft office word starter document because blogging is an option. I need some coffee…feeling VERY tired. Could be the big breakfast. I'm never excited when other people are excited, and by the same token, no one else is in the mood to be excited over this but me…let's see if this works.

tired eyes.

why does caffeine ingested not improve tired eyes?
why can't i do everything i want to do during the week? i'm not setting too-high expectations. honest.

a girl in group today talked about an embarrassing blog post that lowered her already damaged self esteem. it reminded me of the other days of my life where i would blog and vent and get in trouble. it only happened a few times. who knows though, i could've offended more frequently without someone notifying me. i'm going to begin again, blogging that is, not offending hopefully. i can't keep bugging people to talk to me because i'm lonely working a shift, overtired, thinking about the reality of things which is: when i think about it, i am perpetually tired. things get done in a snail's pace. i will be late for work again.

i have to check up on the new brief visitor. crap, i have another form to fill out. UGH.

At bat a-gain.

The joys of cohabitation...
Waking up 4.45 in the morning
Every morning. Sinking loneliness.
Now that I've got you...I didn't expect paradise.
To say I held my breath for breakfast in bed...
Your sensitivity to my sighs surprises...

Five busted fingers on one hand, but on the other...
I wanted white gold. At least, I thought I did.
Virtue said you'd do half. Where do we draw that line?
Even, though you don't dance, side step away my love.

Being spiteful is a coping skill. (hypothetically speaking, of course).

When a significant other can shoot the breeze over household details with his own family (complete with problem solving session and a thorough tour over a couple brewskies) but won't take a few hours to visit his future in-laws, his partner is left with a decision. She can swallow her guilty feelings and her frustration that she is visiting her parents alone, drive herself up a wall trying to iron out how much she is willing to sacrifice of her own values for that of her husband's, or, she can decide to buy herself an extra pair of shoes to wear for ladies' night out that accentuate her calves. She can buy that bed set or the bathroom fragrance that has more of a hint of femininity than she usually will risk. She can decide to eat on her way home rather than wait and cook at home. She can accidentally schedule for his parents to come over on a day that he planned to spruce up his lawnmower, because it constantly needs tweaking. She can have his old ratty recliner removed and order a nice rocker that swivels, complete with swiveling ottoman. She can schedule herself for an overabundance of work hours so he feels like he's living alone, simultaneously allowing for her to earn vacation time spent with girlfriends, and/or (you guessed it) family.
Whoever thought spite wasn't a coping skill was mistaken. As far as her mental health goes, it's downright survival.