Because bad taste is better than no taste at all.....

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

#332: A tribe of loners

So some very generous folks have decided they want to live out in the boonies of NE Georgia, and have bought the property. While the proceeds aren't enough for me to retire necessarily (Especially once the IRS decides to claim their part of it),  it does give me the chance to take some time off from working for a few weeks, possibly the summer. What will I do with myself, when I don't have to be up at the crack of dawn, pushing hamburgers?

Sadly, I haven't figured this out quite yet. It's just one question of many in my life right now.

It's got to the point I don't really know who I am any more. If I ever really knew to begin with. My opinion of myself has always been colored by the opinions given to me by those around me. Opinions which, while I don't think they're necessarily wrong....really aren't who I feel like I am as a person. I have done things. I'm a human being, not a saint.

I find myself alone quite often. And 99% of the time I don't mind it.... The trouble arises on that 1% when I don't want to be alone and can do nothing about it. Because I have grown to dislike being around people. And NOT being lonely involves being around them. But not being around people means being isolated. Which makes me lonely at times. It's a circular pattern I've grown accustomed to.

I am, apparently, only happy when I am unhappy. 

What is wrong with me?

A better question would be more like, "What is NOT wrong with me?" You could argue that'd be better to ask as it'd be a more positive question....

I would argue it is better simply because it's a shorter list to get through.

What, then, have I got right in this life? I am living in a singlewide mobile home in a virtual "dead zone" (internet, cell phone coverage, etc), with a college degree I can't use. And a man I'm not even sure I love any more. So at the moment the answer would probably be: not much.

Perhaps I am approaching this at the wrong angle. Before I can figure out what I am, perhaps I need to figure out what I am *not*. But I'm not sure even of this. I don't remember much of what I used to like to do, even, besides grow things in buckets. And have my nose shoved in a book. Surely I had more hobbies than this?

If I stop to think about what makes me, me..... it's like I'm a total blank. Even my feelings. I don't know how I even feel most days.

So who am I, really?

Is there anyone else out there who feels as I do? (or not feels, as the case may be)

Tuesday, March 1, 2016

#331: "But I'm a fungi!"

Well, the key to my survival/
was never in much doubt/
The question was how I could keep sane/
 trying to find a way out/
Things were never easy for me/
peace of mind was hard to find/
And I needed a place where I could hide/
somewhere I could call mine.....


Genesis, "No Son Of Mine"

For those of you out there who've wondered where I've got to, the internet is a bit sketchy at the house, so I'm limited to getting online once or twice a week at places out and about town. I'm starting to wonder if this will be recified any time soon.


The gulf is widening, that between empathy...and apathy.
There is simply so much now, in my life, that I am willing to slough off.  Rather like a snake shedding its skin, only it's not skin, it's apparently feelings I've been casting off. There are days that run one into another, and as the blur intensifies I find myself caring less and less. I'm merely putting one foot in front of the other most days, only continuing on from time to time after glancing up to see the faint light in the distance.

Is it, as the joke runs, an oncoming train?

If so, the train isn't getting any closer.

...............However, it isn't getting any further away, either. Some days I think the light is getting brighter,  and that alone is enough to urge me further, to plod on another day, another week, another space until I am tired and worn out again.

Drained. I think that is the worst part of my life right now. That I am unable to change my circumstances at the present time except as a slow, painful crawl. And this drains me. That life is changing, but not quickly enough, and I am unable to speed things up without screwing things up. All with the knowledge that I am liable to screw things up anyway. I usually do. I already am.

Dent has picked up on my (half) joking use of the word "roomie" and the other evening talked about his "roommate" liking BBQ (we went out to eat). I don't know whether to be encouraged that he can see we're drifitng apart. Or worried that he thinks this is all a joke.

Valentine's day WAS a joke. I had to work that morning, and so suggested we lay low--opening the store on weekends usually ends with me crashing on the futon when I get home, for at least a couple of hours. I told him we didn't have to do anything, and I meant it. He didn't really have the money, and I was tired. But a hug would have been nice. Or something. I got nothing. We spent Valentine's like any other day, at opposite ends of the house.

I am literally wasting away, from lack of contact or any sort of attention from the man.

I realize he isn't a mind reader. Not too many people are. But if you have to actually TELL the person you are with what to do, it's a pretty good sign you are no longer in tune with one another.

I suspect we've been "out of tune" for quite some time, only I wasn't listening before.

It doesn't help that he's sliding back into his old ways, just as I knew he would. The room he sleeps in resembles the house he used to live in--not cluttered but outright trashed. Sadly, it would spread to the rest of the house, too, if I didn't clean now and again. I shudder to think what I'd be leaving the Landparents with if I did leave. Piles of newspapers from 6 months ago and candy wrappers, no doubt. All over the house.

My life lately has been a series of starts and stops, and hurry up and wait, and why the hell do I even get up in the morning? Long stretches of wearing my misery like a second skin, that I'm unable to shed, just yet. But it's starting to itch, all I need is the proper stone to rub against.......

One month and counting.

The other day was spent out down by the creek. This shows my apparent lack of common sense, as it was raining and we were also under a tornado watch (which was changed to a warning while I was down there!) . The waters rose a little, but it was mostly brown rushing, and little flooding. I did manage to get some photographs of some interesting fungi growing on a log.

 
 
 
I learned the other day the property we've had for sale, may have found a buyer. This is good news, it means I can finally fix my damn teeth and look halfway normal when I smile. This also means that, with some careful planning, I can keep working because I want to, not because I feel I have to. This should lower my stress level considerably.
 
Sunday was awful. The manager with the key (who is usually late anyway) was REALLY late and I ended up waiting outside the store even longer waiting on the GM to show up with the keys, as this girl had apparently left hers AT the store. Needless to say, we didn't open on time, and I spent the rest of the day trying to catch up, with limited success. I was a whisker's breadth from removing my BK shirt and name tag and leaving them, along with my hat, on the door, and just quitting. And you how bad it must have been, as I rarely do anything on impulse and just quit ANYTHING.

Stay tuned.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

#330: 12/17/15

So here we are, near the end of the year, and the old-year feelings have started in again. Part of the blame rests on the weather; it has been raining steadily all day, and promises to leave more before the clouds move on again. I don't know if I have SAD or what, but there is something about the time of year that makes me want to curl up and sleep for the most part. That "raccoon" thing kicking in hard and heavy again.

I went down to the creek this morning, dressed in poncho and black boots (no socks) to study the water. It was the color of the red clay that no doubt all the rain has driven from the banks, and higher than normal. I found another heart-rock; this one is smaller than the others I have found, and darker brown. I will have quite the collection by the time I am done.

I went on a rain-walk because I needed to think. There are things that are happening I did not forsee last year at this time, things strange and complicated. I wished for the weirdness to return; it is starting to make its appearance known once again, and this time, I am not sure what to do with it. But one step at a time; one day at a time. One solution at a time. All I succeeded in doing however, was wetting the ends of my pants-legs. There are things to do before I can make a decision, and these things must be put off for a time. Hurry-up-and-wait all over again.

I have managed to get a few things done; not least was the receipt of my birth certificate, which I hadn't seen before. I have taken a few more odds and ends to Goodwill. Last night I thinned out some things that could be thrown away (mostly paper), and pulled out some things that can be put in the neighbor's "burn barrel" (bills, bank statements, etc) The intent of all this is to condense and reduce, to make things easier to transport (or store) if/when the time comes. My next major goal is to get that passport photograph done, and see what else I need for it.

This day ends what passes for a "weekend" for me, as I am mostly reduced to working on weekend mornings. I can't complain as I would rather open than close anyhow. Still, this is not what I wanted to do with my life. Perhaps this aspect will change, as well.  

I turn 41 in January. Time is ticking. It is moving, even when I am not.

Thanksgiving slipped through almost unnoticed. The Megs was down, and she was somewhat nonplussed to find I'd already put up the Christmas tree. But really, she'd shown almost no interest in it last year; so I felt it was safe to do so. We got a new tree this year. it's one of those pre-lit things, but I still put lights on it. Christmas will no doubt be a quiet day for us. The store is closed that day, and Dent is off all next week. It will be all I can do not not express my irritation while he is home.

Part of the problem is the changes are in fog. Have I changed? Or has he? Or have we both, and gone in different directions? If this is the case, he cannot see it, and this will only make the end harder to accomplish. He is trying, but there comes a point where trying just isn't enough. Call it chemistry, or feelings, or just the ability to get it together.  It just isn't.....there...any more.

I honestly don't know what to do. Talking does little difference; it is in one ear and out the other, or he shuts down completely, shuts it out. I had to have an emotional breakdown to get him to listen to the last "talk" we had; I refuse to do this again.

I am still a bird beating against the glass; although I am starting to see the crack at the bottom, where someone is maybe trying to open it for me. Only time will tell if that gap becomes enough to wing my way through.

Stay tuned.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

#329: 11/04/15

The reply to the text was abrupt .Who is this it read, and I had to smile. So he's going to be that way about it. Well. Goodbye. It was nice talking to you. I thought I'd give you a chance at a 'normal' conversation. Thanks anyway. I almost added too bad, you were kind of cute, but thought that would be pushing it and more than likely a waste of time. I don't know what sort of response I had been expecting. Maybe a no, can we please still talk? . All this went down in September.

So the other day I finally deleted the number, along with some other ones cluttering up my phone. There was no indication he still had mine or that he wanted to talk to me any more.

Halloween was a non-day for me. It being a Saturday, I of course had to be at work at 5 am to cook breakfast, so my idea for a costume consisted of cat ears. The boss showed up as a big piece of candy corn--Being pregnant, it was about the only costume that would fit. I still thought she was cute. 

Thanksgiving is now in the works--the Megs will be visiting, and this adventure apparently has me heading towards Atlanta to pick her up. I'm not too thrilled about this, but I'm going along with it to keep the peace.

I went to the park last week, to see how the leaves were changing. I got a few good photographs.  I was hoping to take some more this week, but it's been raining pretty much these past few days and not really worth getting wet for.  Perhaps in a couple of days it will dry out enough for a little hike up the hill again.




Wednesday, October 21, 2015

#328: What am I thinking?


Another raccoon attribute seems to be that we seem to get into things that maybe aren't so good for us. Well, I have gotten into something that would make many raise their eyebrows and ask what I am thinking?

An interesting statement, that. "What were you thinking?" is something you ask when it was a bad idea, and you're trying to comprehend what made the person do it. Usually the reply is something to the effect, "Well, I guess I wasn't thinking at all..." but you know that is a lie--they had to have been thinking something.

In my case, I perhaps thought it was a good idea at the time? Me, who has always boasted about common sense, and all that.... But not showing much at the present time.

It seems like all the interesting times in my life have been when the weirdness enters. I seem to remember wishing the weirdness to return, and it appears to be. But not necessarily for the right reasons. But this weirdness is a delicious feeling, compared to the last few weeks. It is very difficult to stop. And I don't know, honestly, which direction it will go, if indeed it will go any where at all.

Sadly, this isn't the first time I have done this. The last time did not end so well; you'd think I would have learned my lesson.... But this... this just FEELS different. Even though I know it cannot end any better than the first time I tried it... I am hearing all the right things, and know enough to not take it too seriously...as much as I'd like to... it is difficult to not get hooked on. It's like an addiction you're standing on the edge of. You know better, yet why not? 

I'm seeing the chance to change me, to be what I want to be emotionally, yet it might not be so good for others involved. So I am torn--To me, or not to me?

Stay tuned.