Away...

I've been away from the blogging world. I don't know what happened exactly. I became uninspired, perhaps? I no longer need to vent to the world at large? I don't know. BUT, I'm back. The anxiety that attacks me from time to time has fired a shot so I need to share these feelings (I'm tapping my foot like crazy as I type).

Why do people come back into your life? I mean, I closed a chapter of my life a few years ago and then a person from that chapter has reappeared. And they can't even give me a good reason why they're back. I ask and the response is, "I don't know." Well if you don't know why should I reopen an old wound just to let you hurt me again? It took a long time to get over. A long time that involved a great deal of said anxiety. I don't want you back in my life. And just when I start to let my guard down and think, just maybe, they do something stupid again. No. I will not let you back into my life. Stay out. Stay away. Just leave me alone and let me live my life here...away from you.

Disappointed

There's just not a better word to describe what I'm feeling. I mean really. Who wants to work for someone that's not only not older than them, but has less experience doing what you do? Like, it just makes me feel like anything I've done previously got trumped by a title. I'm annoyed too. OK, so there's an equal word to disappointed. Two fabulous words for making me want to come to work every day. I need a day to be whiney. I want to leave. I want to hide in a corner and pout. That's the way to be professional, right? Bleh.

Guilty

I feel guilty.

A girl I went to high school with – we weren’t friends and I can’t really even remember any interactions with her, honestly – is struggling financially now. I know that she’s struggling because she chronicles it via Facebook many times a day. Last week she posted that she couldn’t pay her $40/night hotel any longer and she and her two middle school aged daughters were about to be homeless. And that just hit me. Hard. I mean she has two jobs and still can’t afford to get by. My biggest struggle is how many times a week should I let myself eat out…not because of financial concerns, but my waistline. I mean, why did I get so lucky? Why did I get parents who saved for me to go to college, who helped me buy a house, who are there for me whenever I need them? I feel guilty. But I shouldn’t right? I should be proud of myself for taking the gifts that I was given and making something of myself. For actually going to college and getting a degree so I could get a good job. For saving and not spending everything. For trying to better myself.

But I still feel guilty. So I sent the girl from high school money. And she keeps thanking her friends but I don’t think about her as my friend. I just feel guilty. I bought a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes with part of my bonus and she can’t afford $216/week for a hotel room. So that makes me feel bad.

I have a friend who works much more closely with people in lower economic status than me who tells me not to feel so guilty. That there are programs out there for people. That she should go to any number of agencies and they can help her. I just need to get tougher skin, right? Stop feeling guilty for working hard and going to college and being successful. I’m going to work on that.

I wish...

I wish that…
some things would never change…
some things would change tomorrow…
my stomach would stop acting so weird…
I made more money…
my family lived closer to me…
I knew what tomorrow was going to bring…
I would stop worrying what tomorrow will bring…
love would magically fall into my lap…
I could read minds…
I was more patient…
I didn’t get such terrible hangovers…
I liked to clean…
I wasn’t so lazy sometimes…
I loved working out…
I could stay Elite on Continental forever…
I had gone to law school (sometimes)…
I knew when to say goodbye…
I didn’t take so many things personally…
I had a big yard at my house…
I could sing…
I was more self-confident…
I didn’t need to make a list like this to realize I have so much already.

Locks

I changed my locks. After I changed my locks I noticed that one of the extra bedroom’s door no longer went “beep beep beep” when it was opened and closed. Now, I didn’t really think that this was going to impact me too much. BUT, apparently it did. Since about that time, every night I go to sleep sometime between 11 and 12:30 and every night around 2:30 I wake up. I always look to see if I can see someone standing outside my bedroom door (weird, yes, I know). Then I lay back down and fall asleep…until about 4:30 when I wake up again, decide that no one is going to break into my house that late and fall asleep blissfully until my alarm goes off. I was telling one of my friends how I hadn’t been sleeping very well lately when I remembered that dang door beep. And I thought, “hmm, I wonder if that’s why I wake up at 2:30 every night?!” So I finally motivated myself enough to go downstairs and reinstall the door knob. I thought my installation was the reason for the lost beep; however, I actually think it had to do with the window A/C I purchased for my previous roommate – I apparently just didn’t notice that the door had lost its beep until I changed the locks. I took down the window A/C and tada, the door now goes “beep beep beep” again. Last night I went to bed around midnight and didn’t wake up until 4:30. So I’ll take that as progress.

It's Because I'm SUPPOSED To

A new study says that humans are born with a predisposition to dance (or “move rhythmically in response to music”). I now have research to point to for why I am inclined shake my booty (nod my head, tap my foot, do a little wiggle) any time I hear music! Seriously, at softball every week “Softball Guy” (he’s on another team) brings his party on wheels (intense sound system on a wagon thing he built (he told me that)) and I can hear it from both fields so I just dance the entire time I’m in the field and when I’m batting. I mean, my team certainly picks on me, but I’m OK with that. I just can’t help myself; I hear the music and I react. When I was in college/early 20s I always wanted to go to bars where I could dance…my friends not so much (maybe their predispositions aren’t as strong as mine). I usually gave in and just wherever the consensus was…but still danced.

Weddings are this dancing girl’s dream…it’s awesome because there are usually enough intoxicated people that I get a big group of dancing crazies to shake it with me. And bachelorette parties. And Bourbon Street. And another thing, a guy immediately becomes that much hotter when he shows that he has some rhythm and is willing to dance WITH ME. I mean *sigh* it’s an incredible turn-on…Unless they’re trying to dance like Justin Timberlake or something and then they’re just weird. I mean, I think I may not even like dancing with Justin because 1. he’d obviously be better than me and 2. people that are REALLY good dancers don’t really need to show off. Anyway. So dancing. Yeah, it’s awesome. You should listen to your inner self and just shake it…even if it's just a little.

Crazy...

I have days where I feel overwhelmed and crazy and it takes over my mind. Like I have this anxiety that I just can’t shake. And even more fun, it’s an anxiety that affects me physically…my toes curl, my feet tap, my breathing gets weird, I basically just look like a crazy lady. So, yep, you guessed it, today is a crazy day. It’s based on a few things I think. One, I’m supposed to go away this weekend with a bunch of people who are all coupled up…except me. Two, I saw something on Facebook that made me sad. Not that it was news to me, it just reinforced something that I like to forget and so now it’s on my mind. Three, work is stressing me out. I feel like someone is trying to encroach on my job and that’s annoying. Four, a friend is dealing with an unstable person in her life and it’s stressing me out too. I’ve always had this protector feeling towards her and it’s hard to not be able to protect her from what she’s going through. So now, I’m sitting at my desk, shaking my leg and breathing weird and overwhelming myself because I want the crazy feeling to go away and it won’t so it’s getting worse. I don’t know how to fix myself and that’s exceptionally annoying. I mean, I’m smart. I know the answers to stuff. I rock at Trivial Pursuit. And I suck at getting the answers about myself. So that’s annoying. And overwhelming. So I’m trying to tell myself to breathe. It will be ok. You can’t have the answers to everything all the time (that’s hard). You need to stop thinking about EVERYthing all at once. I mean, that’s stupid, right? Unless you’re Congress, then you think you can fix all healthcare problems with a $900BB broken bill that won’t even cover them…but I digress. Little pieces. Don’t focus on everything. Don’t worry about things that I can’t change, because face it, I just CANNOT change them. So why should I stress over that? OK, so there you go. My crazy moment. All nice and documented here in my blog.