Potato Salad for the Soul

I'm happy to report that I've gotten out of bed. I look like a hot mess, but I'm feeling a little better. I really didn't like feeling as though I was falling apart, but I needed to process a lot of pent up emotion before I exploded. So I exploded.

I hate crying. It makes me feel stupid. But... sometimes we just have to let it out. And I'm grateful that I did, grateful for my good friends who listened to my pathetic babbling, and thank God I work with wonderful, understanding people. The reality of life is that sometimes it's hard. And lately, I've just had too much coming at me at once, and didn't have, nor make, the time to work it out. I was barely hanging on... and then I found out a dear man I knew succombed to cancer. He was supposed to have 3-6 months; but he only made it two weeks. Sadly, because I was wrapped up in my own shit and don't get the paper... I missed his funeral. And of course, I'm sad that he died. Just as I fear my Chester is dying. His death reminded me how fragile my Chester is.


So after hours of tears, countless naps, and thoughts good and bad... I got up off my ass and started therapy. Cooking therapy. I busied my mind with the tedious dicing of celery, bacon, onions, eggs, and potatos. A little potato salad for the soul, if you will. I've exchanged the mess of feelings in my mind for a mess in the kitchen... and I'm okay with both of them. I'm okay. Sometimes things stress us out. Sometimes things hurt. Sometimes people that have been kind to you do things that are unkind. I really don't understand why, and just like the silence that surrounded the existence of my father hurt me... this silence hurts too. But it won't hurt forever. Thank you for being there... you know who you are.

Fucked. Up.

It's all fucked up.
Me.
Us.
And maybe him.


Mr. Right wasn't there for me; but in his defense, I didn't ask him to be.

And in my defense, I don't know how.

But, I do know, that I'm broken hearted, and a stubborn ass bitch... that's what I had to become to survive. So, unless he finds a big white horse...

it's done.

The "Depression" Has Hit!

A packaging factory in nearby city placed an ad for employment on the Talent Bank website, and in the local paper. They are filling TEN positions. To apply for these positions you have to be registered on the Talent Bank (check), print a copy of your Talent Bank resume (check) and go to the unemployment office today 12:00-3:30 (check) or Friday 9-noon. Okay!

So, yesterday I printed my resume and cover letter on my expensive premium resume paper and placed them in the matching premium paper envelope. I left early this morning, hoping to beat the crowd.

Depressing. The site of that building was absolutely depressing. Despite my early arrival, there were already HUNDREDS of people in a line that wrapped around the building. Cars were parked everywhere, and more were hopelessly twirling around the lot and surrounding streets. I found one of the last semi-illegal, and definitely ticketable spots, and walked toward the masses in the chilly drizzle, hoping my fancy papers didn't get ruined before I had the opportunity to present them.

These people were from all walks of life: young, old, white, black, hispanic, scruffy, tidy, male, female... but the looks on their faces were all the same. Desperate. And I was just one more face in the crowd.

I walked to the end of the line, only to overhear that they will not accept your own printed copy of your resume. You had to go inside and print it on their computer. It's exactly the same resume you print off of your home computer! What? I went inside, snaked through the masses and found an open computer. Once I turned in the resume, I was told that they were not accepting any more applicants today. They had to cut people off at 11:00 a.m. I could not enter today's line. I now have to wait until Friday morning... when it will be even colder standing in that never-ending line of desperation.

My time, gas, paper, printer ink... all wasted. This all costs money. I need money, I do not need to spend it! I was prepared. I was early. I was desperate. And, I was... turned away.

Frustrated and discouraged, I got in the car and drove back home. On my way, I stopped at a grocery store that I had heard was hiring. Yep. A grocery store. There was only one cashier and no exterior office, so I patiently waited in the check-out lane to ask for an application.

"I'm sorry. We ran out of applications. They did take the sign down, but I'm not sure if that means they aren't taking any more. Check back in a couple days."

Sigh.

Back home I go...

What a Girl Wants... What a Girl Needs.

I managed to "nap" from some time after 6 p.m. until a few minutes after 8 p.m. I have a non-narcotic muscle relaxer (leftover from my "chostochondritis" episode in June) sitting on the nightstand that I plan to swallow at 10:30 p.m. My phone is on "silent." I am READY to sleep through the night. Here's hoping it works!

Almost broke-down in an exhaustion/depression/anxiety/stress tear-fest at the mechanics today. I was fighting back the desire to just drop to the ground and collapse in tantrum-like ball. To the limit I was. My car has been going through sporadic episodes of not wanting to start. My amateur fix-it brain came to the conclusion that it WASN'T my battery. After a few tests... I was proven right, despite the Harvard Mechanic School graduate's initial assessment. I like being a "guy-stuff" smart girl! It's empowering. The guy was very patient, and respectful. Too bad the shop was backed up and unable to fix it today. I might even escape this "repair" without charge... good thing. I can't afford even an oil change right now.

Fast forward.

I'm home. Mother brings by a few random groceries. Frozen asparagus, frozen french cut green beans, string cheese, and Texas toast. Not sure how she came up with that list... but if I had any say, she would have just come by with a bag of cat food. For the cats, not me. I want it to be clear that I have not gone so far "over the edge" as to begin consuming animal foods. It's very appreciated that she wants to help, but she just doesn't get what an unemployed and financially buried person truly NEEDS.

And neither do my family and friends. At least not most of them. So, I've decided to create a list of tips for those of you who have an unemployed sufferer in your life:

1. DO NOT ask the much hated "Any luck on the job front?" question! Trust me. The whole fuckin world will know when I get a job. (If I survive the initial shock that is.)

2. DO treat them to lunch, or even running errands with you. Unemployed people do not receive the social and mental stimulation of the workplace, and are too broke to do just about anything.

3. DO NOT offer vague suggestions for finding work. They spend their entire day and night searching newspapers and a half-dozen online sites. They know who is and isn't hiring.

4. DO provide specific leads to jobs and help them network if you are able. Simply feeling as though "you've got their back" will do wonders for their state of mind.

5. DO NOT assume that they are doing something wrong, or not looking for work; especially, in a state with the highest unemployment rate! My unemployment office had 8 positions open in a local factory, and 1,500 people applied. That's a .005% chance of getting hired.

6. DO offer to review their resumes and cover letters if they need help with them, or are looking for another opinion.

7. DO NOT expect your unemployed pal to be joyous and carefree... like they are on an extended vacation. Being out of work is HELL! People who have worked their entire lives did so not just because of money. Think about all of the people you know who retire and then return to work shortly after.

8. DO call them when you are at the store if you feel like donating food. Ask them what they NEED! A bag of chocolates is less appreciated when you need a slice of bread.

9. DO NOT tell them ways to cut costs that involve spending money! They don't have any!

10. DO be patient. The stress, anxiety, fear, and rejection bears a heavy weight on the mind of the unemployed. They are struggling to get through each day, and are likely to have mood swings.

And for those who haven't had the misfortune to be unemployed, here's a little peek inside the mind of someone who's been living this nightmare for six months:


I have not slept peacefully for more than one day in a row in over 5 months. And when I can't sleep, I fire up the computer and send resumes at 3 a.m.

I feel more likely to get my identity stolen then I do to get a job.


Sometimes I feel worthless, despite knowing I am a hard-working, talented and intelligent individual.

I am in never-ending fear of going deep into debt. Been there, done that, and it isn't a happy place.

Every time the heat comes on (my thermostat is set at 60), I cringe.

Every time I turn a light on, I wonder if I'll be able to pay my electric bill.

I have "all the time in the world" in a world with no time. It's lonely here.

Sending out resumes and cover letters is expensive, and at times, feels pointless.

Even "strong" people feel weak and discouraged some times. Support without condition is always welcome.

Believing in yourself has no bearing on the unemployment rate.

I'm stressed out! Too tired to pretend everything is coming up roses, when it's really falling down like leaves.

The Drag... Racing

What a drag!

I'm trying not to have an endless pity party, but I'm really running out of gas here. My friends are too busy, my bank account is too empty. I'm struggling to find things to do. I'm lonely. Bored.

For some reason, "R" is not talking to me. I have no clue why, and left him a message inviting him to talk about it. All I can figure, is that when he asked if I was looking for a relationship, that he didn't like my answer. I was freaked out! It was too soon for that conversation! But, we went from talking daily, sometimes for over an hour... to not at all, with no explainable occurrence. He was a nice guy, and maybe down the road, I would have considered a relationship with him. He was just driving a little too fast for my comfort.

I went to the grocery store for excitement today. Took back cans and bottles and used my whopping $10 in food assistance to pick up a family-pack of ground beef, one onion, two bags of lettuce, two packages of grape tomatoes, spaghetti sauce, Diet 7-up, some coffee and tea. Not much, but I had no beef. "Where's the beef?!" Remember that commercial?

So, Brian left a message about dinner tomorrow. I need to go. Need to get out of here and back into the world. And a nice meal would be very lovely. Today I've eaten one small apple, and a bowl of homemade potato salad. Forced myself to eat both times. I'm so listless I don't even get hungry!!!

Oh, something has to give... something! Anything! I'm about to crash and burn....

And the Funk Funks On

I'm still a bit funky*. Funky is my favorite word to describe any state of mind or being that just isn't excited, happy, or productive. I suppose it is a form of depression denial. Laziness? Boredom?

I need some stimulation! I need some things to keep me busy! Like a job! I spent about two hours filling out an application for a part-time position at the local college, which sadly enough, would wind up bringing in about the same income as I receive now. The tediousness of filling out the applications, customizing the resumes and cover letters, is exhausting! I'm over it! The least these people could do is call you and say, "Ha ha! Good luck with your bills this month! Thanks for the scrap paper!"

Tomorrow morning I place my last call into the unemployment system. And then, hopefully, they will allow me to file for my extension. If I don't get the extension, or a job, I'm basically faced with packing it in and joining the many unemployed and uprooted broke asses. I'm praying that doesn't happen. I worked incredibly hard to get here. To get my finances in order, buy a house, and put some love and attention into it. I've only been here a little over a year. I'd hate to see it end this soon... over the simple failure of the local economy! If I can get myself out of debt... surely this state can find some solutions!

I'm waiting for "R" to call me back. Hoping he wants to hang out for a bit tonight. I'm bored! And I hate to say that. But, I'm not ready to read another book... and my level of inspiration to write is at a low. I've already job searched today... I want something new and different to do! I'm not a creature of habit. With the exception of thoroughly enjoying quiet time in bed.

Things are lookin up for the week. My calendar was empty, aside from my calls to unemployment tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. But, Brian wants to go to dinner (an old friend from high school) and Tonya will be in town. She's thinking lunch. So there is hope for some much-needed social activity.

And if "R" comes over... maybe I'll have some sex! What??!!!?!?! Hey, sounds fun to me! Maybe if I called him and said that... he'd be more in a hurry to see me.

From Zero to Funky...

Wow. I went from zero to funky in a mere 12 hours. Back to Funkytown I go. I had a nice, productive evening Thursday at the publishing workshop. But something happened in my crazy little brain while I slept... and it wasn't good.

I woke up feeling listless. Lethargic. Lonely. Empty. Exhausted. I don't know if it's the coldness of my house, or the pressures that I'm facing, but I was feeling a need to hide in the safety and warmth of my bed... for days!

There was a local "Fall Into The Arts" event downtown. I had been excited to go! Anxious to participate in a cultural activity in this stifled city. What happened to that? In fact, I was close to ditching my friend that planned on going with me. But, after deciding I would simply disgust myself by staying home for no good and definable reason, I got out of bed and hit the shower.

Mr. Irishman called. He had been calling all day. Wondering why I disappeared from our chat conversation last night. I didn't want to answer, my friend was on the way. I was fighting tears. Not wanting to honestly discuss how I felt and then have to explain it all again when I greeted my friend with streams of sadness running down my face.

I hate being negative! But, I'm facing some seriously negative shit! So I'm bottling it all up. And when I've actually reached out to friends to talk about it, they are always too damned busy. I hate that too! What's a girl to do?

I'm home now. Bundled up in dreary brown sweats to keep warm. Feeling funky, frumpy, and oddly frisky. Where's everybody at? Why am I not in bed? What the hell is wrong with me? Me. That's what's wrong! If only I could have one of those out-of-body experiences and transform into some blissfully ignorant blonde bimbos at the Playboy mansion or something. Anything. I need an escape. An emotional retreat.

Martha's funeral is tomorrow. And I'm not going. I feel terrible about it, but I am not comfortable with going there alone. Well, I am, it's the drive back that I fear would not be wise. I've simply got too much emotional shit going on to comfortably drive over two hours when I'm riddled with stress and sadness.

Please, please, please let something turn around soon. FAST!

The Empty Chair...

I have sat here... in this same... old... hard... cold...

uncomforting, uncomfortable chair... for twelve hours. Half a day. A lifetime. Lifetime of feelings. Conversations. Words. Said. And unspoken...

And

I

Am...

Mourning. Frustrated. Sad. Hopeful. Desperate. Needy. Full. Empty...

All at once. And...

All

Alone.

In this empty chair...

Heart that breaks...

Yep. Disaster.

Knew Todd was gonna swoop in. Just didn't know he was going to wait until he "broke" me with talk about what I want to do ultimately in my life and him claiming to think I was gorgeous for being so spirited about music. He even said he wanted to buy me a piano.

And in the end... I was left feeling like a friend of 20 years was trying to verbally manipulate me into bed.

I fought him off of course. And he left. And I was glad.

He left a message a short while later, aplogizing, and saying he was selfish. Please call me tomorrow he said.

Sorry, pal. But what hurts a woman's heart most, is trusting in a heart that breaks.

My Little Gifts of Late...

So many cool things are happening right now! I've had a hard time deciding what and when to post because I've been overwhelmed... in a good way!

I'll start with the practical. My job search has definitely heated up! It took 4 months before I got my first call for an interview, and in the last three weeks I've had 5 calls about jobs. Considering I have 6 weeks left of unemployment, this recent surge in activity couldn't be more appreciated! I also now have the aid of a government program in the works to assist with job placement or tuition towards career training in the works. I'm not out of the financial woods yet, but there is at least a bit of hope.

Next: my Irish pal. Manus called last night. An unexpected surprise. He is really trying to impress upon me how serious he is when he says that he "likes me." He told me he sent me a letter a couple days ago. I am not sure how long it takes mail from Ireland to arrive, but I'm anxious to see what it says! He's a very interesting person and there could be a potential for romance there, however, I am definitely not going to get ahead of myself with this one. I've got to focus my energies on getting a job before my money runs out, not worry about whether I'm going to have an international love affair with an Irishman!

And my new friendship with a person in the creative industry... wow. All I can say, is that when you are completely depressed and feeling like things may never look up... having someone who has "made it" compliment you on your writing and intelligence is beyond words. I just can't settle on one. It is like being rescued. Resuscitated. Having emergency open heart surgery, and surviving. I've been writing to keep a hold of my sanity. To pass the time. To reconnect. To understand. To find myself. To fill a void. To actually hear that anyone likes it... is a gift! And one that I will be forever grateful for, each and every time it is given, no matter who it's from.

I also, finally, got back to working out. I've managed to get 3 workouts in this week already. Considering I worked out 13 times in July and ZERO in August... this is a big achievement. I have a family history of depression, and the cold hard reality of my life right now would make anyone susceptible to depression. So exercise is more of an effort to save my soul, than to have a hot ass. And who doesn't feel a little happier when they know they have a hot ass? So it's a win-win and a must do for me now.

And a source of inspiration for my exercise... I'm going to a big show October 3rd! I decided that I'm going to treat myself to a new outfit for the occasion. My fall/winter wardrobe is pretty sparse and I've been on financial lockdown for FIVE MONTHS! It's time to give myself a little gift for soldiering through my war to survive! And I'm sure it will double as a hopefully needed date ensemble... an investment, I declare!

Most importantly, I must sincerely thank any and all of you who have passed on words of encouragement or praise. You might think I'm getting a little touch-feely other-worldly on you... but one of the truly most precious gifts you can give someone is your time. Add to that your compliments and compassion... and you've given me hope and inspiration. A reason to believe. Keep pluggin along. In a way, you are saving my life, and God bless you for that. Thank you.

M.A.A.D.

Monday= Major Attitude Adjustment Day.

I've thrown what little I had left of a "normal" sleeping pattern way out of sync. I was up until well after 5 a.m. The kitchen staff of the restaurant across the way had begun their daily convoy into the parking lot behind me to get breakfast ready. Each time a pair of light beams rounded the corner, I asked myself, "What the hell are you doing?"

I wasn't sure of the answer.

I've got to get it together. I can't afford to have these pity parties for myself anymore. And, I absolutely have to quit letting things that people I don't respect have to say about me. Kim had told me, during our marathon conversation, about some things an ex-coworker had to say. Mind you, I haven't worked there in months, and I would think that this ex-coworker would have more substantial and timely things to talk about, like maybe the election, or raking leaves. I'll call her "Cybil," partially out of spite, and partially in honor of the fact that she does have many faces, personalities, and is a bit nuts.

Cybil said she heard I had a drug problem. What? I don't even spoke pot! And, I barely take an aspirin if I have a headache! The only drugs I might have a problem with are nicotine and coffee... and I've got a good handle on both of those. In fact, I've never been arrested for using either of them! Cybil is 34... and wasted at the bar every night, usually exposing her obnoxiously large fake breasts and making fun of other people. She dates a police officer, so she is immune to arrest for drinking and driving.

She continued on saying she couldn't understand why I would buy the house that I had if I couldn't afford to get it just the way I wanted in two years. You should never do that according to her. Well, Cybil, I've only just lived here a year, and I like my house just fine. I bought a house that I was sure I could afford. Period. Cybil and her boyfriend live in a "smelly" apartment above a garage (that she doesn't pay for) while he continues to work on a house he purchased some eight years ago... She also couldn't believe I would buy one in "that" neighborhood. Cybil used to own a house several city blocks away that was often visited by the local drug addicts and hookers. Huh. Never had a hooker stop by for tea. Cybil also makes at least double what I had made, and was never able to pay her bills.

The rational me knows that Cybil puts down others to make herself feel better due to her raging insecurity. The rational me knows that I made the choices that were right for me and my life; and I've never been preoccupied with "keeping up with the Joneses." That is what Cybil doesn't understand. The rational me doesn't give a damn whether Cybil understands.

Kim defended me. And that was nice. However, when I had gotten off the phone with her, I really wanted to call Cybil and set her straight. How dare she say I had a drug problem!?!? In fact, she even got mad and labelled me "bitchy" because "she never went out with us." Um... you were always going to the BAR! During my employment there, I was saving money for my house, working on my house, and taking college courses. Sorry that getting wasted at 36 wasn't on top of my priority list. And if I truly had a drug problem... wouldn't I have thoroughly embraced any and all opportunities to get "fucked up?"

I'm letting that out in an attempt to let it go. As much as I fought it, it honestly pissed me off. In my entire existence, I have never understood gossip. It caused me a great deal of pain as a young girl. At the ripe old age of twelve, a few ninth-grade girls were calling me a "whore" because the ninth-grade boys they had crushes on thought I was cute. I hadn't kissed a boy. Didn't know what "whore" meant. I didn't even know I was "pretty." And I certainly didn't understand why someone would say such hurtful things about you, if they weren't even true.

Anyway, back to the present...

I elected not to go to the job site I previously telephone- interviewed for today. I want to be fresh, rested, positive and confident. By the end of the day, today, I will find a way to erase the negativity I have let creep into my being, and I will regain some courage, commitment, confidence and charisma. I will go there tomorrow morning.

I've got a lot on my plate, and nothing is to be gained by punishing myself for feeling a little defeated and disappointed for two days. I'm definitely my worst enemy at times. Dr. Phil has often said (yes I know he's not really a doctor) "You teach people how to treat you." If we aren't kind to ourselves... can we really expect others to be kind to us? And what a world it would be if kindness were more mainstream! My friend Chey and I were talking about some painful things months ago, and something she said has echoed in my mind ever since:

"We've got to start being kind to each other!" Amen.

Tired

Confession. I must confess that after reading my "sorry we did not select you for the position" letter in Saturday's mail, I instantly retreated into the fuzzy funk I had mentioned in my last post. I spent Saturday forcing myself to sleep to pass the time.

I had also received yet another electric bill. Not sure how one gets two bills two days apart...but I was too tired to care. Tired of fighting.

I try to pride myself in being a "swimmer," a fighter. However, it would be dishonest of me to say anything other than, I am TIRED of fighting. I'm discouraged. Exhausted. I'm not asking for much. I simply want a job. I want to pay my bills without fear. I want to buy greeting cards without the voice in the back of my head telling me I can't.

I look as bad as I feel. I haven't combed my hair. I have slight smudges of mascara under each eye. But, my teeth are freshly brushed.

Lil' Kim

When I worked at the Salon Spa, a girl I had gone to elementary, junior high, and high school with came on board. I remembered her from 6th grade. The cute, quiet "new" girl. But, our junior high and high schools were so large... that was the last I had remembered seeing her. Even living in the same town, I never crossed paths with Kim, until then.

We quickly became fascinated at how we never really saw each other. Inquired about a few classmates, and bitched about the snobs. Laughed about our obnoxious 80's hair, and not being old enough to "couple skate" at the roller rink. Swiftly we bonded.

Kim worked the evenings as she has three children. I began to look forward to her 5 o'clock arrival, and she began coming in early so we could chat. We shared many profound conversations on the fire escape at break time. I felt cheated that we had not been allowed the pleasure of knowing each other years passed.

I could write a short novel on how impressive Kim is. How genuine. Kind. Giving. Loving. HILARIOUS!!! And raw. Honest. Dependable. Hard working and true.

Kim was my rock when I got unjustifiably axed from my job. She was the first, and only, one to call. She immediately directed me regarding what to do, and who to call. Kim was sincerely, passionately, upset that I was let go. She even bore witness to my ex employer's attempt to get my unemployment denied from false allegations.

Kim and I were on the phone tonight from 11:00 p.m. until 3:04 a.m. Sharing our qualms with the electric company, our coworkers (ex for me), our dysfunctional families. We both discussed how we went "a little nuts" after 9/11. She kept crying and watched the footage obsessively. I, fearing living through war and watching suffering and senseless death, quickly became depressed... and dropped out of college two weeks prior to the end of the semester... despite having a 4.0 grade average. We talked about depression. Not showering for days. Crying over the T.V. Her dad's fight with cancer. My brother's battle with drugs. Her battle with drugs. Her alcoholic mother... and bitter, detached sister. My emotionally and physically unavailable mother. Growing up poor. Family and friendship means more than money every can or will. We listened. We talked. We communicated... and laughed.

Right after I got off the phone with her... I discovered she had sent me a beautiful email, and I almost cried! What a true and amazing friend I have been blessed with.

Ouch...

http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=U6PGrub3jUc

I don't know if I am cracking under pressure... feeling things I haven't allowed myself to feel... or acknowledging my emptiness... but I am truly emotional tonight. I feel confined. Trapped. Restless. Misunderstood. Confused. Unsettled.

"Won't You Get Me Out...of FUNKYTOWN!!!"

What a funk I have been in! I've slept more than dead people the past few days!

The days kind of blur together after Wednesday, when Mack cancelled our date. I'm not sure if that blow of disappointment was the catalyst, but I slipped into a serious funk thereafter. I think it was Friday that I slept in, started watching the movie "Atonement", took a nap half way through, and then finished the film. Saturday was a repeat performance, only the movie was "I Like It Like That." I've discovered the "On Demand" button of my remote that allows me to watch a limited selection of movies through my cable provider. This comes in handy when you are up at the hours normal people don't watch TV... hence the infomercial onslaught.

I actually went outside today. Briefly. I filled the bird feeders and watered the hanging baskets. I thought that was all of the punishment the neighborhood could handle. I'm not exactly looking gorgeous after being holed up in the house for days.

I managed to muster up enough energy and thought to complete my preliminary draft for the assignment that is due tomorrow in class. I have yet to summon the Gods of Creativity to begin working on the major assignment that will be due the following week. Our "text only" draft is due Wednesday. Thankfully, I work quite well in "OH SHIT!" mode, and I have confidence that I will be able to produce.

But, first things first. I beg of myself, of someone, anyone... to get me out of FUNKYTOWN! I can't stay here much longer!

Takin Care of Business!

The nice thing about living alone is that you can do whatever you want and not have to answer to a soul. The bad thing is... no one is around to tell you to get off your ass and get on with your life! I was in a bit of a "funk" Saturday night and into late afternoon on Sunday. Stuck in my pajamas. Leaving little messes here and there, like Pig Pen. I've managed to cover my coffee table with nail polish bottles, bills, an empty Diet Coke can, and a planner with no plans in it. I have papers strewn about the dining room table, dishes in the kitchen... clean and dirty. Sequined flip-flops by the front door and clothes on the dresser. Too add to the ambiance, my cat puked on my bed. I'm a literal mess!

Deciding to make an effort to repair my state of mind, I got up early this morning and got right to business. The sun was shining, and my spirit was a little brighter. My work for class is done. EARLY! I'm a true procrastinator. One of those people who's genius surfaces under pressure... so this was shocking and new to me.

Nick is on the DL... the dick list! I had sent him a message on Saturday night, asking if he could "come out and play." And I heard nothing back. Until today. It was a lame excuse, and we know each other well enough that I find his dishonesty to be rather insulting. I'm over it.

However, it appears that Mack and I will be seeing each other on Wednesday night! After I get home from class. Looks like I will need to do a little tidying up!!!! I'm wondering how I will be able to transform from studious-girl to sexy woman before he arrives at my door! Maybe twirl around the room; like Wonder Woman? I hate to sound like a slut... but I have plans to ravage him. At LEAST once. I'm ready to cheat! On myself! (I'm the only person that I have had relations with as of late!) Mack and I enjoyed some naughty banter in a chat... and I am ready, willing, and able to get right down to that business!

No Rhythm... Just Blues

Temporary Depression. Here I am.

I was up all night, completely enthralled with the world; all of the amazing people that are out there... everywhere, and wondering how I had become so disconnected to it. To them. To people. To me. I had reached out to the world via MySpace. Blindly. Requesting friendship from complete strangers... exploring their profiles and photographs. I found a common thread. So many creative and beautiful souls; many pondering the riddle of life, just as I am. In just a few hours and click -clacks of the keys of my laptop, I had once again found the spirit of human existence. What the hell have I been doing all of these years? What has happened to my life? So much time: wasted! Thank you to everyone who has jumped aboard my torment train. You have enlightened me!

My dear friend who is a few states away finally called me today. I've been worried as hell about her. She has been going through the same pains as I have: unexpectedly unemployed, late-thirties and loveless. Both of us have all of the time in the world to support each other, but not a penny in our pockets to travel. I'm in a financial prison. America is in trouble, especially the state that I live in. Each day there are news reports of layoffs, shutdowns, foreclosures, skyrocketing gas prices and unemployment rates. I've been sending resumes and cover letters out daily, and get nary a call back or interview. I've been unemployed since the beginning of May and it is taking it's toll on me... picking away at my spirit a little each day. By the grace of God, I am collecting unemployment, as I was permanently laid off. And again, by the grace of God, I am able to pay my mortgage, and living expenses, and have about $80 to spare for the month.

The connection here... the one that I am struggling to eloquently make, is that I miss my life, I miss LIVING, I miss my friend! Yet, I do not have the finances to do a damn thing about it! I truly fear that I may have to become a middle-aged stripper in a dirty, dumpy, drinking hole! I went to see the movie, "Sex in The City," with my aunt (it was at the cheap flicks for $3) and I was about to cry through the entire film! Not because it was sad, or because I was overjoyed that they reunited to make this picture... because I can't tell you the last time I went out with the girls, or had to mourn a break-up. Because it reminded me how beautiful being connected to humans really is. If someone hurts you terribly, that means you have felt love in your heart. If you become angry with a friend, that means you have enjoyed the gift of companionship. I want to see my friend so terribly. Too giggle over lunch. Sneak peeks of handsome men. Get out! Enjoy the world and it's wonderful population of soul-searchers!

I'm youthful, healthy, intelligent, spirited, and maybe even sexy. What the hell am I doing here, in this old empty house, in a depressed town, without a job, without a man, and without my friends?