I’m back to feeling meh again. Every day this week, the week which was supposed to be my actual vacation, I have had some sort of work related thing to take care of. I have had messages to reply to, misunderstandings to clear up, paper work to sign, people to reassure… It hasn’t been relaxing… at all. It’s been annoying and frustrating, which I think is adding to my “meh” feeling right now.
I still haven’t been sleeping well. There was a dream a few days ago about doing pull ups. I was able to do five of them. I know there was more to the dream then that, but I can’t remember what.
There was a dream of Jarrett. I saw him in passing, saw his profile as we passed each other, his hat covering his hair. He didn’t see me and kept walking. It was as if I wasn’t there to him at all.
The dream from last night was about ice skating again. I was competing but before I could I had to have my height measured against a wall, much the way children are measured against a door frame when they’re young. I also had to skate around the rink picking up pieces of paper that were frozen to the ice. Some of it was important I think, but other things were trash like the paper wrappers of straws. Again, one that I can’t clearly remember the over all message for, though I believe the ice skating was representing aikido for me.
Zane and I had sex for first time in weeks last night so it’s even more frustrating that I feel so disconnected after an amazing night.
In general I think I’m in a mood and I don’t like it. Zane is sort of in one too. Today hasn’t been bad, but we both want away from the world, and aren’t getting one.
I have 15 emails to go through in my inbox. Most of them need replies. There are veggies to cut up in the kitchen because there’s so little space in the fridge that nothing will fit unless I am able to put it into containers.
The hookah tipped over last night and burnt Zane’s sheets, though nothing else was damaged. We wanted to replace them anyway, but it would have been nice if we weren’t replacing them because the old ones were destroyed.
I’m able to remember all of these things that are wrong, or bad. It’s still rainy and icky outside. It’s still cold.
It’s annoying. I’m annoying. To myself, much less to anyone reading my “woe is me” trains of thought.
I don’t even know what to write about. What would make me begin to feel better. I’ve cross stitched a bit today, but honestly I need to seriously begin work on my homework which is due Wednesday. I have an idea for doing the entire set of face cards for the assignment. I think it will work out well once I get the base file started. I also think I’m going to go with a digital median rather than a traditional one.
I got the car taken care of, everything for free, so that was awesome.
I’ve had a handful of donations to my St. Jude fund, which gives me motivation. It helps me feel like other people believe in me and support me. It some ways it may be selfish to feel that way, but it does mean a lot.
Arg. I want to get over this trapped feeling.
Another factor may be that the apartment is a disaster, and none of the mess is mine. The kitchen table is covered in tools and scrap metal because Zane and Trevor are working on a project. Christmas paper and boxes are still strung about because Trevor hasn’t put them away and I have no idea where they go. There isn’t space in the freezer for Zane and I to put food because John’s stuff is still taking up over half of it. Stuff that has been in there for literally two months and hasn’t been touched, plus to bottles of some sort of alcohol, which the whole point of me keeping the mini-fridge was to have a “sin fridge” where all of that stuff is kept. But there’s so much in there, that once again, hasn’t been touched or even looked at, that it has to take up room in the normal freezer too. Let’s not forget about the pile of bottles on the floor in the pantry that also, are alcohol and not being used.
Honestly… How can someone buy so much crap and not use it? I don’t get it. And it’s annoying because I want to throw it away so there’s space for the stuff we do actually, legitimately need, like trash bags, or paper towels. But it’s not my stuff so I can’t.
Cleaning would make me feel better, but I can’t touch any of the things that need to be cleaned because they’re not mine. I feel like I don’t belong at the moment and that’s a driving factor in my discontent. And the more I focus on it the more it’s going to bother me, but the more I’m here the more it’s glaringly obvious that this space isn’t mine.
Zane and I have done part of our grocery trip. He plans to do the rest later tonight. He said he would buy a pair of sneakers as well, but I’m not sure if he actually will. He keeps mentioning his budget. He thinks that being more active will help his sex drive, and I want to believe that. I know it affects mine. It would give us something to do other than stay at home.
I want change. I want things to be different. I want to be able to act on the plans we’ve hashed out. And I can’t. I have to sit here. I have to wait. I have to do things I don’t want to do and I can’t cover up or hide the fact that it makes me unhappy. I can’t pretend that I like the situation, because I don’t.
I want it to be sunny. I want it to be warm. I want to feel alive when I wake up in the morning rather than half dead like the day. Gray, overcast, only half real.
I feel like the next two months are going to be long. I feel like they’re going to drag by. And right now, in my gloomy, dreary, downer of a mood, I feel like I’m wasting my time and life again.
I was sick Thursday. Wednesday when I had to bike to school it started raining on me. Only after I had been biking for five minutes already. To far to go back to the apartment and grab a change of clothes without being late to sign my paper work. So I had to spend the whole day in lab, soaked, with wet shoes, and then bike back home. I was freezing. And so Thursday I woke up feeling feverish and spent the whole day feeling icky. I had to cancel training with Terri.
Friday was the car thing. Zane took us out to breakfast at Waffle House since I was taking him to work that morning. After dropping him off I came back and slept until 12:30 since I had slept so poorly the night before. I made it to my appointment by the skin of my teeth. Afterwards I went to Jo Anns because I needed more of the blue thread I’m using for my cross stitch. I also got more fabric while I was there. The 50% off coupon was still on the website, so I made it out of the store with $5 left on the gift card from my mom.
By then I had enough time to go back to the apartment and sit on my hands. I didn’t have enough time to go to the gym before picking up Zane. He wanted me to dress nice. He wanted to take me out to dinner and have a date night. Which actually turned out fantastic.
See, good things did happen.
So why does today feel chalked full of so much lame?
Where as yesterday I really didn’t have time for the gym, today was an active choice to not go. I didn’t want to deal with it. With life. With anything. And really I still don’t. I’ve been listening to my audio book while cross stitching in the living room. Me in the chair, turned so it faces Zane while he watches iZombie on Netflix, his headphones plugged into the controller so the sounds don’t clash with my book.
We just ordered pizza from Papa John’s for dinner since the grocery isn’t done and we’re missing elements for all of the meals we have planned.
We’ve gotten really good at justifying eating out. Which isn’t good. It might be yet another factor into feeling sort of lame. You are what you eat, and I’m sick of French fries. I’ve never really had a thing for them, but they’re convenient. Apparently more convenient than feeling good.
Maybe a really big factor is the fact that I’ve been trying to avoid work and it seems no matter what I do, where I try to hide, somehow it finds me. Someone messages me on Facebook, or texts my phone, or I stupidly check my work email to see the messages I have. Even on Saturday, SATURDAY, and actual day off, I’m bothered by shit that was agreed upon before the winter break. A month before it actually, to which everyone was sent an email, and everyone knew about. But suddenly, after the break, I’m supposed to go back to working six days a week. It’s not happening. Not even a little. Not even for one week because, no. Just straight up no. Maybe if I hadn’t done it for a year and a half believing people when I was told it was temporary. Maybe if I didn’t feel like my trust was betrayed, or that people are a bunch of liars.
Maybe if I wasn’t overly sensitive to it because I never get a break from it like now when I use vacation time to try to recover and unplug and get away, and I can’t because it’s like a cancer.
I guess I have a lot of frustration over this. More than I realized. I don’t think that’s the only thing spurring on this angst, but maybe it’s a larger factor than I realize. Maybe it’s the apartment and work together. I hate being in an environment that’s messy. Like, it drives me bat-shit insane to not be able to clean.
I feel like a restless dragon that needs to chew on something until the blood rage goes away. How hard is it to put your stuff away when your done using it? Especially in a public room? Or to not buy more alcohol? How hard it is to be considerate of other people and not encroach upon their space?
I need to find an outlet, a different one, because at the moment writing isn’t helping. At the moment it’s just adding fuel to the fire which is already a mildly uncontainable inferno.