PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

fucking gah

Tuesday, Dec. 14, 2004
I havenít written in two days. Thatís never a good thing. I write when Iím in touch with myself and when Iím out of touch I retreat. Iím not mad, Iím not upset. Iím agitated. Agitated that Iím working so much, doing so much and yet I come home and itís quiet and I wonder if I matter. If I just skipped the coming home part how long before it mattered.

I know these feelings are due to my not paying enough attention to my inner self. I need a long hot bath, I need a massage, I need some downtime. Iím trying to get some time off next week for the holidays since there are no classes in session there is no need for my services that week anyway. Ahh but the inner guilt talks loud.

Today I figured out how much money Iíd be losing if I were to quit the part time gig. The company bought a bigger better building not so far away but far enough away that I may be late to the U every day after the part time job. We will have to wait and see what happens. Itís so hard for me to give up security. To give away that sense of security to someone else. And being a part of a relationship means you must give that, share thatÖor some such thing.

I havenít much started in on the Christmas shopping and am having one hedoubletoothpick of a time figuring out what to get the little man in my life. The delusions of Santa are long gone so I called him up and simple asked. He didnít know what he wanted. He finally did eep out the fact that he would like a walkman. That was it. A walkman. Now we all know if psuedosantamommy just gives him a walkman and thatís itÖIíll be a shitheal in no time. So, Iíve decided to try to get him an artistís easel off of ebay and hope beyond fín hope that it arrives before the big day. Mostly from last nights conversation I gather from my son that he was more concerned with knowing when I was off and how long I will be enrolled in school. All of this translates for me into the little man is wanting to spend more time with Mommy. And who can blame himÖIím a great person to spend time with. ;-) Actually this breaks my heart because this might just be the one thing I canít easily give to him. I muddled thru the conversation as best I could and I succeeded only in not bawling my eyes out. I really just wanted to break down.

Itís all getting to me. The long hours, the lack of a life. I want to have more fun. I want to chill out. I want to watch mindless sitcoms for hours. I want to have the time to go grocery shopping, bake cookies..something. And yet then on Sundayís when I do have the day off I donít have enough energy left to do much of anything. Iím always tired. Always. Iím tired when I go to bed, tired when I get up, tired throughout my day, live on caffeine and junkfood. Itís insane.

I know that I need to get more organized, get on a regular exercise program, take more vitamins, blahÖ.

Obviously Iím failing at taking on everything Iíve taken onÖÖ

-PoeticaL

I hate whenever someone gets mad at me and then their phone goes straight to voicemail..it pisses me offÖmakes me so angry I want to rip my fingernails right off and sit in a corner and cryÖ.

It's not the same old same if we change it. I don't need you to fix anything...I need you to hold me...always.

re: electricity bill...thank you..
2:49 p.m. ::
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