Daily Post 058: Better Then They Have Been

 

Written earlier this morning.

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I’m physically tired right now. It’s taken me about an hour to recover from my training session with L. We worked inner thighs pretty hardcore today since I told her that’s where I feel weak. Tuesday was shoulders and back and I can still feel the tiredness there as well.

I suppose a lot of my tiredness comes from being so active this week after such a hard lull the previous week.

Thanksgiving was pretty good for a shitty day. All of the days leading up to it sucked. I watched Fate/Zero in its entireity in two days. I didn’t feel back about taking over the living room for those two days. I’m hardly ever home. No regrets or remorse.

The show was alright but I didn’t really connect with any of the characters. I watched it more because I wanted to watch Fate/Stay Night which I’ve been told is good. Since I made it through all of Zero I started watching Stay Night Wednesday evening and continued throughout Thanksgiving day with my brother.

I have to admit that one of the reasons I’ve avoided watching these anime for so long is because Zane watched them before we dated. I can remember him having conversations with other people about the show and so I’ve always associated the Fate series with him. Sort of like how I associate Burn Notice with Corey. I don’t know if it’s really overcoming anything to finally watch the series, but it feels less like Zane’s and more like any of the other story lines in my head.

Jon actually took care of most of the cooking, which was a fantastic change from last year where I did all of it and then no one ate anything.

I actually woke up thinking about ditching and just staying home and being sad. I didn’t want to get out of bed. The thought of having to take a shower was borderline too much on top of having to drive the hour up to Daytona. I didn’t like the idea of having to stay with my roommates even less.

Instead, I made a compromise. I would stay in my pjs, get in the car, and make it to my brother’s place. That’s all I had to do. The only “requirement” of my day was driving. Everything else was icing on the cake that I didn’t “have” to do. My brother wouldn’t care if I was in pjs or not. He cared if I showed up. If showering compromised my energy levels for completing the trip then it was ok for it to not happen.

So that’s what I did. I got in my car and drove up to his apartment. There was a hot cup of coffee waiting for me and a hug and no judgment. Only acceptance, and understanding.

I helped a bit in the kitchen when he wanted/asked for it. I helped load the dishwasher a few times, too, so I wasn’t a total slacker and mooch. The turkey was brined which was the first time I had anything like that and it was amazing. Jon is now Lord of the Turkey and we have plans to do pretty much the same thing for Christmas since neither of us can get out to Vegas to spend it with our older brother.

Jon did have a friend come over for Thanksgiving. I guess he didn’t have anywhere else to go and Jon didn’t want him to be alone. It was super socially awkward and Jon even sent me text messages while we were all in the living room asking me not to kill him for inviting the guy over and saying he was sorry. He essentially begged for my forgiveness which I thought was cute.

I told him he owed me and he agreed. Jon said he had forgotten how “off” the guy had been the few times they had hung out. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t all that bad.

Towards the end of the evening, Jon’s roommates came back home and said that their family was going to show up to play board games. Roughly six people in total. That totally went against all of the plans they had agreed to previously with Jon, leaving the apartment empty so he and I could have a place for our own Thanksgiving. When we asked when their family was supposed to show up his roommates said they weren’t sure. Just that they would be there at some point.

I didn’t have a bra on… There was no way I was going to be ok with being in the middle of surviving my second Thanksgiving without mom and dealing with six strangers having a good time while not being “presentable”. Fuck that shit. Like, for real.

I ended up leaving before they showed up. In fact, I’m actually not sure if they ever did. Jon hasn’t mentioned it in any of our conversations. I was sent home with leftovers, a big bear hug, and the whispered words of “You’ll be ok” echoing in my ears as I cried the whole drive home. The leftovers are what got me through the next couple of days because I didn’t do any sort of cooking or prep work on my days off due to being sad.

I don’t remember which day I started feeling better. Maybe it was when I came back home Friday. I know that day at the clinic wasn’t bad even though I thought it would be. One of my coworkers called out sick so we were short a person. My boss came out and worked the floor on my side of the clinic, so that was pretty awesome. The times he’s worked on the floor he normally takes my spot to see how the changes they’re making to the schedule work. This was the first time we worked closely together and he was very complimentary at the end saying that I did what had to be done.

I was expecting that day to totally suck, but it ended up being one of the smoother ones I’ve worked. It was good to see all of my patients and to hear about their Thanksgivings and how they got to see their friends and family and eat good food and enjoy their day. It was nice to share that mine had turned out better than I expected and that I spent it with my brother who made a fantastic meal for us.

I guess going to work forced me to get up. It forced me to not sit at home in the dark where the only things to keep me from thinking about the pain are anima, alcohol, and cigarettes. It made me go out and see people who care about me and who are grateful that I’m alive and do the things I do. It made me go out and connect to things that feel worth it, so for that I am grateful. I may dislike my job, but I’m glad that I have one that gives me purpose.

Warren and I had a fairly friendly conversation. He’s paid full rent for this month. That’s the first time he’s paid fully two months in a row. I’m hoping that December continues with this positive change. This is the month where he should be able to start paying in advance rather than having me use my own money to cover for him and then him paying me back. It would be nice to not feel tension and tightness in my chest when I pay bills. It will be nice to feel secure in the fact that I know everything will be taken care of.

My main mission is still to survive until January. I feel more confident in my ability to do that, especially since it’s only two and a half weeks until my week off. I haven’t figured out anything that I want to really do that week. Maybe getting my hair bleached again since the roots have grown out so far. Maybe it would be good to talk to Big Bad and see if there’s anything he would like to do and if he still plans to take that week off with me or not.

I had thought of giving up personal training for the coming month and solely focusing on work and my certification. I have since decided against that. I want to keep training the little bit that I am, which leads to this week and why I’m so tired right now.

Sunday started with messaging Big Bad. It was light and playful until he asked me if I had had a cigarette since our last time together. I said yes, less than what I normally would have done, but more than none.

His reply message of “I’m disappointed in this behavior” was more soul-crushing that I expected it to be. I actually sat crying at my computer for a little while. I know a lot of people don’t like me smoking and I have always acknowledged and accepted that fact. I don’t like it either.

I decided, after my cry session, that I wouldn’t smoke anymore. I went outside and had my last one and while I smoked it I asked mom to help make it my last one. I wasn’t prepared for those emotions either because asking that made me feel like I was losing a part of her all over again.

Yeah… Sunday was a day full of emotions after a week of already heavy emotions. So tired of emotions right now…

I hadn’t realized I was using smoking as a way to feel close to her. At least I didn’t realize it as consciously as my awareness became during that last cigarette. I cried during it but stuck to my word and threw the rest of the pack away.

Once I was back inside I sat down and wrote an email to Big Bad explaining why I had been smoking these past months and how his message had hurt because I don’t want to let him down. He’s been so supportive and accepting throughout this past year that the thought of letting him down feels like a betrayal in a way.

I haven’t had a cigarette since Sunday. I know that’s not a lot to go on, but I’m content with it so far. The first month is going to be the hardest, especially towards the center of it. So really, this coming week and the week after are the ones I want to really get through.

Big Bad responded to my email saying he was proud of me and that I can do anything. I felt better even though I was emotionally tapped out. I felt more solid and stable. It felt like I had finally made a stand about the whole smoking thing and confronted some heavy things I had been avoiding.

Jon came down and we had lunch together while studying for his Anatomy test. We started with the section for the brain, which was amazing, and then moved into the spine. I think we were both in need of some more time together. We agreed to start playing new characters in World of Warcraft. Horde side this time so I have more drive to actually play. Since Monday was a day off for me we spent most of Sunday night leveling our characters.

While I waited for him to drive home I cleaned my room and the apartment. I ended up doing four loads of laundry to wash all of my blankets and sheets as well as my clothes. Kyle cooked a chicken alfredo dinner and let me have some. It was a pretty low key night after what ended up being a pretty intense day.

Monday went well. It started with canceled breakfast plans. I had made plans with Mrs. G, a former classmate from DaVita’s training program, to meet since we haven’t seen each other in almost six months, if not longer, but she’s been having headaches and asked if we could raincheck out meeting. Though I really do want to see her, I was ok with the cancellation.

It meant that I was able to go to boxing instead, which I think I needed. I didn’t do as well as I’ve done in the past. I was also late because I stopped to pick up my new glasses first. I didn’t let that stop me from going, though. I still went in while everyone was warming up. I put on my shin guards and gloves even though I knew there wouldn’t be any kicking. It’s part of my ritual, just like taking off my necklace and ring. I always do these actions and I will not compromise them just to get onto the mat fast enough to make someone else happy.

I pushed myself pretty hard. I can tell there’s a difference in my core strength. I can feel how my punches, especially my hooks, are stronger, harder. It’s a good feeling. I stayed for all of the core section of the workout, which I sometimes skip out on. For not having done any sort of workout for a while I was happy with my effort. It was a total body sweat. I got to talk to the instructor who was one of my favorites. In January he’s going to begin working with me on footwork and how to move around in the ring with an opponent. I’m looking forward to it.

I took a nap when I got home. I did some cooking. A lot of things were already taken care of due to my burst of motivation Sunday. I ended up going out and finding a new nightshirt to wear at Salvation Army and having a sandwich for dinner at Arby’s.

I spent the evening with Big Bad. We watched a few episodes of Stranger Things. He said he tried watching some of it without me but it wasn’t the same. That gave me warm fuzzy feelings. I got to wear my new top while we cuddled on the couch. It was another quiet, relaxing night after a fairly productive day.

Tuesday was a busy day. I knew it would be and I knew I would be tired before it even began. With how productive I had been Sunday and Monday I knew Tuesday was going to be rough, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I wasn’t going to back out of any of my obligations so instead, I tackled everything head on.

I trained for the second day in a row which is a first for a very long time. That’s where L tore up my shoulders. We did some box jumping as well. Only the red box, but that’s what I wanted. I told her I would rather warm back up into things successfully rather than trying to push too far too fast and compromise my confidence. I’m ok with being on the low side this week.

After training, I donated plasma. I wasn’t as hydrated as I wanted to be, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the one donation where I almost passed out twice. After donating I had a doctors appointment. I had been instructed to fast for the blood work I needed to get done for my bio screening, which is supposed to save me something like $800 on my healthcare premium. So even though I trained and donated, I hadn’t eaten for eight hours. I was edging towards a bitchy mood and I could tell.

I made it to the appointment on time. Didn’t have to pay anything since it counts as my yearly physical. Had to get a tetanus booster shot, and then drive over to the place where they actually do the blood work to have that done. So I got stabbed three times on Tuesday. All while not eating anything. So hangry.

I’m grateful I was able to get the blood work done and out of the way, though. Since I went to the clinic so late there wasn’t a wait time. I was seen pretty much immediately and was assured my results would be in by Thursday, which was perfect. Thursday was my next day off, so my doctor said to come by the office during the afternoon to let her complete the form I needed to be filled out. So I was able to get most of my healthcare stuff taken care of. The only things left were to have the paper filled out and to submit it via the online portal, both supposedly easy things to accomplish on my next day off.

Tuesday was also Nicole’s birthday. We were chatting throughout the day and eventually made plans to meet at a Cracker Barrel for dinner. It was roughly 40 minutes away, but since she drives up to see me all the time I felt like even with how tired I was it was the least I could do to drive halfway to see her on her birthday.

Well… that ended up taking an extra 30 minutes to do because of rush hour traffic and car wrecks. I was super bitchy by the time I sat down, but luckily Nicole let me bitch while we ate our fill of biscuits with apple butter. I even got to order my Country Boy, “there’s no way you could possibly finish all of this food” breakfast. And yes. I did actually eat all of that food. Fuck anyone who thinks poorly of me for doing it. You try strength training, donating, doctor appointments, and driving through Orlando hell on no food for almost 10 hours and see if you don’t devour everything, too.

I will say it was amazing to finally get home. I slept deeply that night, though it wasn’t enough before I had to wake up for work on Wednesday.

Yesterday was rough. I was on my normal side at the clinic but I was paired with the newest team member, who works extremely slow because he’s still new, along with the preceptor who trained me, who is extremely thorough, but also a slow worker. That ended up making things extremely rough. My preceptor went and complained to my boss about the new guys which I didn’t think was fair because she also could have done more than what she did throughout the day. I am actually glad that he came out onto the floor later in the evening because it meant that I got to talk to him and give him my opinion.

I said I didn’t think it was that the new guy is a bad worker. I said I felt like everyone at the clinic has their own strengths and weaknesses and that right now, two slow workers together was not a good idea. He needs to be around two strong workers until he gets his confidence and speed up.

My boss was grateful for my input and I think it helped give a more unbiased opinion about the situation since I also voiced my opinion on how my preceptor handled/didn’t handle the day.

I was pretty dead by the time I got home. It was roughly a 14 hour day and six miles. Maybe closer to 15 hours, but once you get to a certain point it really doesn’t matter. A long day is a long day regardless of how many hours it is.

I ate dinner and checked my mail in Warcraft since I’m back to whoring the auction house. I showered not long after that and went to bed. I slept for a little bit but woke up around midnight hungry and thirsty.

I logged onto Warcraft and chatted with my brother who also happened to be on. I stayed up until around 2 before going back to sleep.

Since then I’ve woken up, gone to training, and am about to go back to the doctor so she can finish filling out my paperwork. After that, it’s donating plasma. Then lunch with maybe some light studying. Then back home to chill for the rest of the evening. I do need to cook one last meal. Doing a load of laundry would be good. But overall my requirements for the day are mostly done.

Speaking of, I’m going to cut this short so I don’t miss my appointment. I’m glad I took the time to write. It was nice reflecting back on everything that’s happened. I’m also glad things feel better than they have been.

 

Daily Post 026: Working Girl

My days have been long. Tiring. Stressful.

But they’ve also been extremely rewarding, uplifting, and connecting.

I finished my phlebotomy class. I have my final payment figured out and a solution to the issue of not being able to attend the final part of the PCT course due to my employment training. I still won’t be able to take my board test for a while since Warren still isn’t paying rent reliably. It’s down to paying my bills or getting the certification. It sucks that I’m in this position, but I don’t want to complain about it.

This is a fact in my life. I have to choose between things because my finances are so low. I choose to keep the dojo instead of getting nationally certified for something I don’t need at the moment. I WILL come back to it and I WILL become certified. Just not in the time frame I was hoping for.

The day after my last day of phlebotomy, last Friday, I had my first day of work in almost a year. Physically and mentally it wasn’t a very intense day. A lot of power point slides, a lot of meeting people. Blood work was done. I had my first TB test. At least it’s the first one I have a conscious awareness of. There was a CPR class that I had to stay for since the Red Cross certification I paid for wasn’t accepted.

Everything in hindsight… /sigh

It was actually a pretty awesome class, though. The guy was super funny and engaging. By far one of the best training classes I have been to, ever.

So it’s sort of a toss up. On one hand, I would have liked to have left at 3 PM so I could have gotten to South Carolina sooner. On the other, I’m glad I was able to stay and experience the class.

I didn’t get on the interstate until 6:30 PM and traffic out of Orlando was at a level of stupid I haven’t experienced in a while. I drove until 1 AM. Allison called me around 11 PM and told me that I didn’t have to be up until around 9 AM the following morning which was totally ok in my book. I knew with as emotionally exhausting as my day of orientation was plus the drive that I was going to need as much sleep as I could get before the “big day”.

I slept surprisingly well even though I was basically in Drug Town. Downtown Charleston is pretty much like any other downtown. You have some sketchy areas, but it was actually mildly reassuring. This is where I grew up. There was still a feeling of “home”. I could see it in the way the grass is a different kind of green from Florida. The oak trees with their Spanish moss… The salt in the air is different. There’s something about low country South Carolina that can’t be replaced or impersonated. There’s something about going back to where you came from, even if you return as a visitor, that will pull at the strings of familiarity.

I’m glad I went to Allison’s wedding. Partly because she would have killed me if I ditched the day before when I was supposed to be her maid of honor… I do have a slight sense of self-preservation. But mostly I’m glad I went because it was beautiful to not only see the ceremony but to be part of it.

I realized I will most likely never have a wedding of my own, but I also realized I think I’m ok with that.

I don’t want to spend $1000 on a dress. I don’t want to make people drive crazy distances to hear me say things that I really only want my companion to hear. I’m ok with not having the government involved in my relationship.

Maybe all of this will change as I continue to move through life, but at the moment, I’m ok with accepting that I have always been different and that I will most likely continue to be different. Different doesn’t mean bad.

So the ceremony was really nice. I made my speech. I feel like I tanked on it. I was shaking so bad by the end that I had to put my glass down so I wouldn’t spill it all over my dress. After my “speech” I promptly changed out of my dress and went to a quiet outside area away from the reception and did yoga.

I know that may be weird or maybe even disrespectful but I was completely out of my element. I knew only a handful of people. I was in a dress with makeup, my hair all braided and “not me”. I had just spoken extremely heartfelt words to one of my best friends in front of a ton of strangers… I earned 20 minutes of alone time to stretch out my muscles from my seven-hour car ride.

Allison’s mom came and sat with me for a while. It was nice to talk to her alone. I haven’t been able to since my mom died. I got to tell her about my new job and how I’m doing in life. I’m pretty much her second daughter, she says so herself, so I think she enjoyed catching up with me. It was nice to have some one on one time with someone I’m close with. It helped ease the overwhelmed feeling from the speech.

The rest of the night was fun and uneventful for my part. I got to people watch. I talked to a few other people, but mostly I kept to myself, which I was ok with.

In the end, I helped pack everything up. I went out with Allison’s buddies to a bar and had a few more drinks. Afterward, I went back to the hotel where I had another night of extremely deep and restful sleep.

I woke up in the morning, packed everything up, checked out of the hotel, then drove back to Orlando. I stopped in Daytona first and spent about three hours with my brother. Originally it was going to be a short visit, but then I ended up going to a few stores with him and then we got dinner together. It was insanely nice to spend time with him and I don’t regret it even though it altered my time table for when I wanted to be home.

By the time I got back to my apartment I was done. I don’t even remember what I did. I brought everything in from the car, but that’s about all I remember. I know I didn’t sleep at all even though I tried to. I don’t know if I was wired from the cup of coffee Jon made me while I was with him or what, but I spent all night awake.

One the plus side, I didn’t have to worry about being late for my first official day at work. Downside, if you think spending eight hours reading policy and compliance documentation sucks, try doing it on no sleep…

Even though I was wicked tired I liked how I started my day. I went to Starbucks and got a coffee drink and a breakfast sandwich. I know that was splurging and my bank account doesn’t appreciate it, but I wanted to do it. It helped make the morning special.

As I pulled out of the drive-thru I spoke to my mom for the first time in a while. Out loud spoke to, not just silently thought words.

“Ok, mom. Let’s make today a good day.”

I had tears running down my face as I drove through the parking lot. My chest hurt. I didn’t want to take those steps forward. But I did, and I even enjoyed my day despite the mind-numbing material.

I actually really like the group I’m with. All of the managers for the facilities are super nice and friendly. This really does seem to be a company that lives up to all the talk about the company culture. I really do believe they care about their employees, from my own observations and limited exposure so far.

Tuesday wasn’t as bad, but still really dry material. We were told we needed to come up with a team name. I’m super hoping for DaVita Divas to win. We realized we’re an all female class and with the spunk and banter we toss around the diva portion really fits us I think.

Today the subject of mom’s death came up with a few of my… classmates? teammates? not really sure what to call them mates?… Anyway… it was an extremely connecting conversation.

Two of the ladies are slightly older. One lost her mother about 15 years ago, and her husband 4 years ago. She shared some of her experience with grief with me and I was able to explain mine. In the end, I thanked her for talking to me. I told her hearing other people’s experiences helped me feel not alone and helped me understand and accept my own feelings.

Another, we’ll go with teammate, gave me a hug.

It was really nice. Mom’s death is a big part of me right now, and I like that I was able to share that aspect of my journey and still be accepted.

After class I came home and sort of dicked around on Facebook for longer than I meant to. I did go to Muay Thai tonight, though, so I don’t feel bad about the computer time. I’m pretty happy with the effort I put in at the dojo today. I had been worried about interacting with people, but I’m glad I went. I was paired with a person that I’ve seen at the dojo fairly often, but have never formally talked to. He’s super nice and was extremely helpful with giving me advice for my stance and punches.

I enjoy going to Title Club on the days I don’t want real interaction. I want it to just be me and the bag and whatever the voice through the speakers tells me to do. I don’t have to worry about holding pads or having someone “push” or “encourage” me. I don’t have to worry about my grief snapping and having to explain to someone that they didn’t do anything wrong and that I just need to cry. It’s the main reason I haven’t gone to the dojo as consistantly as I was before the end of March.

I have been keeping up with training, though. Just in a different way.

Today ended up being a dojo day instead of a gym day. It was a good class and I did well and I think the interaction was good for me on a social and emotional level.

I stayed a bit afterward and talked with one of my trainers; the one who had asked if I was ok the last time I had been at the dojo. I got to explain about my new job and why I had left the time before. I got to talk about the situation with Warren. She knows I might have to cancel my membership. It won’t be this month at least. I’m hoping things work out.

I’ll make things work out.

Oh… yesterday…

I went to kickboxing at Title Club since I didn’t feel like being around people. Afterward, I went to the store and bought a few things to make meals since I have to have lunches at work. I made tuna and beef stir fry. I had some leftover rotisserie chicken so I also make spinach and chicken couscous. Got some protein bars. Some Gatorade. Eggs… Normal stuff.

Tomorrow I’m going to buy a lunch box. I donated the one I used to have to Goodwill almost a year ago; shortly after I resigned. I got rid of a lot of stuff when I left Full Sail. I’m actually glad that I’ll have to get a new one. This is a new place. I don’t want to bring old memories into it.

I actually have a to-do list for tomorrow. It’s the first day this week that I’ve made one. Much like with my writing, my to-do lists have become sporadic. I don’t mind, though. I feel like I’m doing well.

This whole month has been hard. Everything from March 23rd, through mom’s death day and past with the final weeks of my phlebotomy class, skill evaluation, beginning a new job only to turn around and be the maid of honor in a wedding which required a total of 14 hours of driving in two days…

I DID do well and it WAS hard.

Now that things are settling down I can feel the rhythm that’s forming. I like it. I wake up early. I workout in the early evening. I come home and unwind.

I’ve already mapped out what I would like to do tomorrow. This is the first day where I’ve wanted to plan ahead. It’s not a very extensive list and the first five things on it are still, “wake up, make breakfast, eat, shower, go to training”, but it’s my list and it’s what I want to do, so I’m going to do it.

I’m going to be ok. Financial stress is pointless even though my financial situation is something I have been stressing over. I’m going to make my life work the way I want it to because I’ve come too far to let it uppercut me again.

Fuck you, Life. I’m ready for you.

Daily Post 139: Jujitsu

Going on day three of posting. Woo. Go me.

I forgot about getting my car battery replaced yesterday. The car has felt weak when I start it. It started getting to the point where I felt like I was playing Russian roulette when I turned the key. Not a fun feeling to have.

I stopped by the auto store and had the battery tested, for free because they’re awesome, and the test came back bad. So crisis averted. Bought a new battery. They put it in for me. I turned the car on and everything was back to normal.

I’m not sure if this situation says anything about my growth in life. In the past, literally anything with the car would have been the main focal point of my day because car issues were always insanely stressful for me. Now, not so much. Maybe I forgot about it because the issue was so easily taken care of. Or maybe with everything else I’ve had to go through the thought of car trouble just can’t get under my skin the way it used to.

I finally finished painting my closet today. The previous tenets were weird and had the closet shelving ridiculously high. It was almost out of my reach just for hanging clothes up, much less actually using the shelf space to store anything. Since I was painting anyway I went ahead and took down all of the shelving, painted, then put the shelving back about six inches lower this time. Poof, usable space. I got my clothes hung back up so my room feels less like a disaster. Also got to use the power tools again so I’m feeling pretty savvy.

Tomorrow I’ll do the baseboards and then I’ll be able to scratch “master bedroom” off of the list. Hooray. I’ll be able to start going through my “in” box which is really the last thing I need to do in regards to my room. Then I can start working on finishing the office, which is baseboards and floor scrubbing. Then bathrooms. Then kitchen. Then I can start making plans for the patio area.

It might be taking a bit longer than I thought it would, but everything is coming along.

I didn’t workout today and I’m mildly bummed about that, but in my defense things changed last minute and they didn’t work the way I thought they would.

Since Big Bad and I wrestle so much I started thinking about looking into jujitsu classes. I found a place that seemed really interesting. They offer Muay Thia along with MMA sparring and grappling classes. They had a video showing the gym and explaining the school. Color me intrigued.

I was super nervous about going, but I wanted to see what it was like. It has a super laid back atmosphere and the instructors I spoke with were extremely nice. I think it lines up more with what I’m looking for now. The boxing place I’m going to is fun, and I’m comfortable there, but I want more interaction and sparring rather than a cardio workout with a punching bag.

Even as I type that I’m cringing because I don’t want to make it seem like my current gym is bad or lacking. It’s not. They’re great people and I enjoy going there. I feel like I’m interested in a slightly different thing now, which isn’t something they offer. This new place may be more what I’m… I don’t know… craving, I guess.

After talking with the Muay Thia instructor for a while I decided to schedule a time to try out a class. I made the appointment for Monday but realized about 30 minutes after I had left that I can’t go Monday. I have to go to South Carolina with my younger brother as his emotional support and witness for filing his divorce paperwork. Much lame…

So I guess I’m going to call the place tomorrow and see if I can switch to the Saturday classes instead. If not then I guess I’ll figure something out. I wouldn’t be able to go until Wednesday at the earliest, but since Wednesdays are SCA combat days I really wouldn’t be able to go until Thursday and I really don’t want to wait a whole week. : /

We’ll see what happens. I’m sure there won’t be an issue going on Saturday.

Tomorrow morning I get to go check out a bike I found on Craig’s List. It looks like it’s in good condition. Honestly, it looks bearly used. The reviews for the model all say it’s a “good starter bike” which is really all I want / need. It’s a hybrid so there’s suspension on the front wheel. Aluminum body, so it shouldn’t be too heavy. I’m going to go check it out and see what I think of it in person. I’m hoping I like it.

If I start going to this new gym it would only be a four-mile bike ride to get there. Not that I’ve looked into that already or anything…

I’ve played a bit of Guild Wars today as well. Got a bunch of mastery points. Saved a bunch of people. Killed a bunch of evil bad guys. Productive day.

I went through all of my tags for my blog and deleted way more than should have ever existed. I’ve been blogging for over two years, though, so I guess it’s understandable. I’ve gone through different phases of tagging posts and have never thought to go back and clean up the back end of things. I don’t think it was really affecting anything, but it made me feel good to do it.

I started feeling a bit lonely this evening. Missing mom. It’s an ache in my chest. Like a bruise. One that you can feel without having to touch it. I can’t help but wish I could see her one more time. Sit across from her one last time. I don’t know, just five minutes where I can smile and laugh with her. I wish I could tell her about the car battery or finishing painting, or any number of the silly, trivial things that go on in my life.

Today was a good day. Even on good days sometimes I still cry.

Daily Post 138: A Mild Day

I did pretty alright today.

I was up sort of late, so there was no run at 4am. Totally ok with owning up to not running. I made up for it by going to boxing later in the day.

Today was a bunch of errands. I had to go to Home Depot for more paint. I got a dustpan while I was there since I don’t have one for the apartment. Even though it’s a townhome I’m going to call it an apartment because that’s easier.

Anywho… After picking that stuff up I went to the produce store for groceries, then Publix since I needed cat food and litter. Scarlett would have killed me if I had come home without food for her…

I checked my PO box. There was a bunch of garbage advertisements about the election since I haven’t checked the mail in a while. Glad that’s over and done with. Maybe now people will stop wasting money on advertisements that get put directly into the recycle bin.

As soon as I get around to filling out my change of address form I’ll be able to close out the PO Box. It will be nice to not have to drive somewhere to get my mail.

I got nail polish remover to help get up some of the paint speckles on the office floor. It seems to work without messing up the hardwood finish, so I’ll do that task tomorrow while the paint in my closet is drying.

After checking the mail I came back home and dropped all of my shopping off before dashing out and just barely making it to boxing. I did alright again. Maybe even better than alright. I noticed I have a lot more muscle definition while I was watching my form in the mirrors. Still need to remember to keep my elbow up on hooks. My kicks are a lot more solid. There’s a definite thud when I kick the bag now, and it actually moves from the force I put into it.

Still didn’t stay for the last fifteen minutes of the class which is nothing but core work. I was dehydrated. I was hungry. I was a bawce for going in the first place while not having a lot of sleep. Going, might I add, after a pretty full day to begin with. So yeah, no regrets about leaving when I did.

I want to get a bike again so I can start biking to the gym. That’s most likely going to trash my workouts for a few weeks while I condition back into being at that level of activity, but it’s something I really want to do.

Getting a bike was supposed to be one of the first things I did after getting a place to live. It was supposed to be a reward for making it. For surviving. A really nice hybrid bike that would be my own, not Zane’s that I was putting money into maintaining.

I miss being able to bike to the store. I miss bitching about having to bike against the wind. I miss having the ability to just randomly go out and enjoy the day with an hour bike ride down a trail. Biking was something that made me feel good, so checking out Craig’s List for a nice bike has been added that to my to-do list.

Currently, I have dye in my hair since the purple was getting pretty faded. I’m using a new brand, one that I tried while I was in Vegas on my walkabout. It’s called One n’ Only. It’s a pretty good brand. At least I’m having good results with it. The color lasts waaaaay longer than Manic Panic. It smells better, too.

In about an hour I’ll shower to rinse my hair out, and that will be about it. In the meantime, I’m going to go play some Guild Wars and bask in the feeling of having done things today even if I didn’t get through my whole to-do list.

I mean… the laundry doesn’t have to get done tonight… and since I didn’t get around to finishing the closet it’s not like I have a place to really put my clean clothes anyway… I promise this isn’t procrastination or laziness. And even if it was laziness, I totally earned it because of boxing.

Yeah… >.>;

Now to go kill things with my 54% crit chance. Aw, yeah. >:3

Daily Post 136: My Very Own Place

I have been a complete and total fucking bawce for the past two weeks. Normally I would feel bad about  having a curse word in my first sentence. I mean… that’s kind of a trashy intro… But, this is me not caring because, at least for the moment, I’ve taken Life in hand and beat it into submission and things are finally mostly stable and / or working out.

 

I made it through the fourth. I did pretty well that  day I think. It didn’t start to hurt or feel lonely until the evening. I ended up going to a lake and listening to music while I watched the sun set. It was the same lake I went to on the second month of mom’s death.

 

On the second fourth I wrote a blog post, crying over my keyboard as I sat in a hotel room that I purposefully left too cold because what was the point of turning it up? Mom was dead. Nothing mattered, not even the cold. The cold didn’t hurt as much, couldn’t even come close to the pain I felt in my chest at having to accept the fact that it was two months.

 

At the time the most painful thing was the thought of going outside, of having to be around people, of having to actually bare the weight of mom not being here. I wrote through all of the emotions I had. I cried through most of it. By the time I got to the end of my writing I had decided I would get up. I would shower. I would go outside even though it would be painful and I would most likely cry more.

 

I would do those things because I had promised mom that even though she had died that I wouldn’t stay in bed all day. I would eat at least one meal. I would take care of myself, if only barely because I knew I couldn’t stop. I had to keep going because even though she knew it would be hard for me, mom wanted me to keep going.

 

That day, the second fourth, I went to the lake. I’m pretty sure I ran. A shitty run, but a run, which was more than I had thought I could do given the day.

 

This fourth, the sixth fourth, I didn’t run. I didn’t want to. I sat and I cried silent tears as I listened to music and watched the clouds change colors and when I was done I went back to the extended stay. I made it through the day without losing sight of who I am and without feeling like surviving  would be the most impossible task in my life. It was a somber day, a gray day, and I’m ok with that. It was a stone in the structure of who I am. A defining moment. One year will be a defining moment. Twenty seven years will be a defining moment. Maybe when I turn mom’s age. I can see that being significant to me as well. 

 

I marked my sixth fourth as somber, yes, but also as positive in my book.

 

I survived.

 

Not only had I survived, I had been productive.

 

On the fourth I applied for a townhome I found online and even got to tour it. The realtor was extremely nice and said he could work with my situation. I didn’t sit inside all day. I worked on moving forward with my life and found an avenue that was exceedingly promising. One which I wouldn’t need a cosigner for.

 

I found out on the fifth that I was approved.

 

I feel I need to write that again. Maybe in bold… and a bigger font…

 

I was approved for my own townhome.

 

The day after the six-month mark of my mom’s death I was able to, finally, sleep in my own room.

 

It was extremely symbolic for me. It made me feel like I’m actually doing something right with my life. It felt like a turning point. I’m figuring things out. I’m starting to stand up again, on my own.

 

I packed up most of the things in the extended stay and began moving into my new place that night. The sixth was a lot of back and forth to my storage unit. I didn’t have anyone to help with the furniture, but I got most of my boxes, which was nice.

 

The seventh was when Matthew threatened.

 

Right Brain: Hooray! We have a home!

Left Brain: Hooray… We’re getting hit by a cat 4 hurricane…

 

My area didn’t get much of anything. No damage, no loss of power. Having been through hurricane Floyd in South Carolina way back in the day I was actually pretty unimpressed with the weather. It wasn’t nearly as scary as that had been. As I said, though, we got really lucky. I know other areas weren’t as fortunate.

 

Because of the hurricane I wasn’t able to do much over the next few days and I sort of resigned myself to not being able to do much until Monday.

 

Sunday I did go to combat practice, which was  fun. I got to do some sword drills and see everyone again. Since I hadn’t been to a practice in so long there was anxiety over going back. I’m glad I did, though. It was great.

 

Oh, before I forget… I did hear back about the potential job. That was on the fourth as well. I didn’t get the job since they need someone proficient in 3DS Max and I’m proficient in Maya, but the guy loved my work and I guess my D&D themed resume completely made his day. It’s always nice to know your work is appreciated and to have positive feedback. So even though it didn’t work out, I had good feelings over the experience.

 

I can still impress people with my skills. I can still play “The Game” if I really wanted to.

 

So… That leads to this past week…

 

I suppose I should mention that Warren #1 will be moving in with me.  He’s currently still in South Carolina and most  likely won’t be here until November 8th-ish. He hasn’t  ironed out a few details, but he is moving in, sooner rather than later. I know I’ve mentioned him before. I’m not sure if I’ve ever written out the full story. It seems so long ago, and I guess in the over arcing story of my life so far, it is.

 

First boyfriend. First true best friend. First one year anniversary. Warren was actually my longest relationship by far. We were together five years. We had actually started talking about engagement.

 

First breakup…

 

I’m glad we’re still friends and that we worked through the negativity of our breakup. I’m glad he’s been able to help me cope with mom’s death, and I’m glad I’ve been able to help him with the issues he’s going through. We’re going on 14 years of friendship. That’s literally half of my life.

 

I’m not worried about sharing space or having him live with me, and I think a lot of that has to do with knowing each other so well. We’ve agreed that the townhome is mine, so if things don’t work out, he’s the one to leave. We have separate rooms and bathrooms. We’re sharing the office space. He’s paying his share of things. He’s interested in letting me beat him up with a sword. He’s ok with me being sad. He’s interested in meal planning with me and biking. He’s interested in this being a home, for both of us. Safe. Quiet. No drama. Both of us being alone with someone who wants to be alone.

 

Right now I’m enjoying the fact that the townhome is empty and I’m able to adjust to being here. Decompressing. Finding my routines again. Finding me again. Through all of the noise and chaos and tidal waves Life has  given me over and over for the past six months, I’m finding me. The me who is starting to stand on my own without the leg braces of mom to hold me up.

 

I’m looking forward to Warren being here but I’m also enjoying the bit of space I have beforehand. And for now I guess that’s really all there is to say about it.

 

The landlord is ok with me painting the walls. Even offered to buy the paint since they were going to repaint everything before I moved in. Since I want to do all the painting myself, because I actually like painting which I guess is weird because everyone I’ve mentioned this to always responds with how much they hate painting, my first month is being prorated for my labor.

 

… Prorated rent to do something that I want to do… Yes, please?

 

So not only do I get to make the townhome feel like mine because I’m putting time and effort into the space, but I’m able to have the colors I want for free. Currently I’m waiting on Warren to ok the color scheme I want to go with. I don’t think he’s all that concerned, but I want him to see the colors before I talk to the landlord that way on the off chance he doesn’t like something we can figure it out before buying the paint and there’s no turning back.

 

It would be nice to be able to start painting next week. Do a room a day or something. At least the walls. I would do the trim separately.

 

Aside from that I’ve bought a bunch of stuff. A bookcase, computer desk, and computer chair are the biggest things. The computer desk was on clearance at Target for 20 bucks. Pardon me while I feel thrifty.

 

It was nice being able to assemble things and unpack properly. I love putting things together. It helped me feel accomplished. Not only do I actually own things now, but my things are no longer hidden away in boxes in a storage unit. My things are with me, in my space, making it feel like I actually belong somewhere.

 

I got my computer setup. And I mean 100% set up. Not the little half setup I had at the extended stay on a crappy, tiny table. I mean both monitors, speakers, printer, external hard drive… the works. I love my beast and right now it’s completely dominating in all its unadulterated glory.

 

I have my art supplies and books out of boxes for the first time in what feels like forever. Once the walls are painted I’ll be able to hang my artwork and corkboard and inspirational things. That will really be the final touch on making the space feel like home. But it’s already so much better than what I’ve had for the past six months, or even what I had with Zane, since most of my things were still in storage even then, that I’m actually super content with where things are at.

 

It’s a work in progress, and in one week there’s been a massive amount of progress.

 

There was a bunch of extra coax wire all over the place from the previous tenants, and of course it was secured to the baseboards with screws. It couldn’t have been anything easy like just wrapping up the wire… no… I got to break out my power drill to take care of that mess.

 

Am I the only own who feels like a sexy badass using power tools for home improvement projects?

 

I have my bathroom set up. It’s a walk in shower. So much win.

 

I’m still on an air mattress until I can get the furniture out of the storage unit, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to wait on that until Warren is here. I’m tired of asking people for favors. Since I’ll be driving up to South Carolina to help him pack, then helping  him unload once we get back to Florida I’m pretty sure he won’t have an issue moving my china hutch, hope chest, mattresses, and futon. All of which are actually pretty easy to move. Especially if I rent a dolly for the china hutch which is the only thing that’s an actual pain in the ass because it’s so ridiculously heavy.

 

Let’s see… I got the Internet set up. And the printer, which actually wouldn’t work at first. Had to clean the heads of the cartridges, then everything was right as rain. Still not getting the mbps I should be, but the Internet is  doing better than what it was… which was 6.

 

6 mbps… Even Facebook was lagging. It made me want to punch things in the face.

 

I installed Guild Wars 2 again. That was my reward for completing my to-do list yesterday. Getting a pizza and gaming, which I did until  midnight. Got my  ranger to level 12… out of 80…

 

Corey is going to give me a code for the expansion so we can play together. He’s the reason I  went back to the game. He wanted some to game with… I’m not really doing much… Seemed like a good fit.

 

I’ve been going to boxing more regularly. I actually got new gloves since my knuckles got pretty chewed up with the wraps and gloves I got with my membership. I amused myself that day by messaging most of my guy friends saying how I got sexy new black gloves. All of them wanted to see these “sexy gloves”… so I sent them a picture of my hands in the new boxing gloves. Needless to say that wasn’t what they had been expecting. It was great. Made my day. XD

 

I went to Wednesday’s night combat practice. I ordered rattan earlier in the week so I could make my own swords. That came in on Friday. Since tomorrow’s practice is going to be held at a different location about two hours away I don’t think I’m going to be able to do much of anything with the rattan for about a week. Maybe I’ll luck out and one of the guys will be free one evening and will be willing to teach me. That would be super cool.

 

Still waiting to get my test date… That’s frustrating. Not really worried about it though since I have other things to occupy myself with.

 

That’s about it. That’s a lot of stuff though, and a lot of it is positive, forward moving stuff.

 

I can feel my metabolism picking back up with all of the boxing and combat. I actually sleep at night because I’m exhausted from being productive. And I feel accomplished at the end of the day because I’ve done meaningful things with my time, even if they are selfish things like fixing the Internet so I can avoid flipping over my new computer desk in blind rage from disconnecting during a boss fight…

 

Well… I think I’m going to go for now. I’ve grocery shopped today and did all of the prep work so all I need to do tomorrow is cook. This is the first week where I’ve been able to do my “weekend” routine.

 

Looking back on it, this past week was as perfect as perfect could be. There were challenges and struggles… and triumphs and rewards… There’s things to look forward to in my future…

 

I’ve made it six months. I’ve survived, and for a while that was all I was focused on. Survival. One day at a time. Sometimes one hour at a time. 

 

It finally feels like I’m starting to move past surviving. It feels like I’m starting to live again. It’s a good feeling. A warm feeling. Not a lot of warm, but more than there has been. It’s like a small bud blooming, and even though I know winter is  just around the corner and December is going to be whatever it ends up being, for right now, with where  I’m at, I think I’m actually able to say I’m  happy.

 

I love you, mom. I miss you. But I’m actually, truly, doing ok. It’s not just a phrase that I’m saying to myself, desperately hoping it isn’t a lie. For the first time since you’ve died  I feel like I can actually say that I feel happiness again. It’s not a broken or impossible thing for me to feel. It’s real. It’s there. It’s small and fragile and I’m scared that it’s not going to last, but I feel it, mom. I think about my townhome and I smile and feel warm and safe.

 

I felt like you should know that. I felt like I should tell you that I’m happy, and that I’m not sorry for being happy because you would be happy for me too if you were here. I know you would be proud of me. I know you would be geeking out over me getting to paint because you loved painting, too. You would be happy for me and that makes me happy, mom. Knowing that I can still make you proud makes me happy.

 

Thank you for still helping me. Thank you for everything. I love you.

Daily Post 135: SCA and Boxing

I didn’t go to SCA yesterday, and I suppose now is as good a time as any to explain what that actually is.

 

SCA = Society of Creative Anachronism

 

Think of it like LARPing, only cooler because it’s real.

 

“[SCA is an] international organization dedicated to researching and re-creating the arts, skills, and traditions of pre-17th-century Europe.”

 

So you can have your persona, and that’s cool and everything, but your name has to be an actual name that would have been used in the era you choose from the region your persona is from. If you create your own heraldry, it has to be historically accurate. There are all sorts of guilds for things like glass working, herbalism, cooking, even thread arts which I’m totally stoked to look into. And they all follow historically accurate methods. 

 

And of course, there’s combat!!!!!

 

I haven’t really settled on a persona yet, but I’ll most likely go with a Norse warrior.

 

I haven’t been to many of the combat practices, mostly because I started going right before I went on my month long walkabout. And by “not many” I mean I went to two… But they were beyond amazingly fun and I’ve met some really awesome people who I actually miss already. Everyone was super open and friendly and didn’t seem to mind my social awkwardness since everyone is slightly socially awkward. It’s like I’ve found my people finally.

 

Anywho, I didn’t end up going. I went to boxing instead which turned out to be a fantastic workout. I finally made it through the whole class. The instructor was someone that I’ve never had before, and I didn’t recognize anyone who was there. I’ve never been to a Sunday class before though, so I wasn’t surprised by either of those things. I really liked this instructor. He had us do a lot of elbow strikes, which I love doing.

 

There’s something completely and totally vicious about slamming your forearm into the punching bag. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because it feels like I’m able to put more force behind it. All of the anger and injustice I feel over mom’s death, over Zane being a jerk, over the Universe making things harder than they need to be… it goes straight from my arm into the bag and I don’t have to worry about it having hurt feelings over it.

 

The bag doesn’t care. The bag is non-judgemental. The bag takes everything that I have, everything that I give, and still hangs there. It lets me hug it after I’m done so I can hide the tears that are sometimes there. And even though it can’t hug me back I know that I haven’t irrevocably damaged anything by letting go of the hurt and pain inside.

 

Maybe that’s overly deep. The logic side of my brain says it’s just a stupid bag. But it’s not. For one hour out of the day it’s MY stupid bag and there have been a lot of times where it has helped me and I’m grateful for that help.

 

So yeah, yesterday was an awesome workout. At the end of it I knew I had to eat some form of protein and drink a crap ton of water since all of me was soaked in sweat.

 

Corey ended up messaging me asking if I wanted to hang out and watch Deadpool. There have been a few instances where we’ve talked about hanging out, and while we have been spending more time together things can still be sort of awkward between us since we’re exs.

 

I don’t think I’ve ever written about Corey. He was almost four years ago. It’s sort of sobering to realize it’s been that long. It wasn’t until recently that I revisited the memories of our relationship.

 

We went to school together. He was in the Game Development program, which is essentially a computer software engineering degree. I was in Computer Animation. There was some thread on Facebook talking about “You know you went to Full Sail if…” and we happened to start talking through that. That led to meeting in person. We were both getting ready to graduate, neither of us knowing where we would end up afterwards, so the goal became trying to find things we disliked about each other because starting a relationship only for it to end sounded like it would suck. Only… we couldn’t find things we didn’t like about each other. We got along so well…

 

He got a job before he graduated. I interned with Clavan and eventually got hired at the school. So, since we were both staying in the area we started dating. There was no longer the need to stiffle or avoid what we naturally felt towards each other. After a few months we moved in together. The girl I had been rooming with kicked me out because I mentioned how I had an art test for a studio and I didn’t know if I would be moving or not. It depended on if they wanted to hire me.

 

Turns out they didn’t, but I still was out of a home. Corey let me move in with him. It was a one bedroom apartment. Things were good for a little while. He met mom. I met his family, driving 24 hours in a single day to make it to Maine for Thanksgiving that year. I liked, and still like, his family and I guess they still ask about me.

 

The good times didn’t last, though. I don’t remember all of the details in that regard. He didn’t like that I always came home later than what I was “supposed” to. All of his previous partners had cheated on him, so my being late would trigger negative emotions and insecurities. I felt like that was unfair because I was at work helping my students or talking with my supervisor or trying to get a project to a good stopping point. I was never more than 30 minutes late, but it was long enough and often enough to be an issue for the relationship.

 

I became more and more withdrawn which didn’t help anything, and with having a one bedroom apartment I didn’t have a “safe spot” to retreat to. Being more withdrawn made him more angry and insecure which pushed me further away.

 

It was a cycle that neither of us were able to break. It got to the point where I would cry in my car before going home because I wanted to be anywhere but there. I started self-harming as a way to cope, cutting the bottoms of my feet again.

 

I told my mom about the situation and she agreed that maybe the healthiest course of action for both of us was for me to move out.

 

The only person at the time that I could move in with was Warren #2, who I have wrote about. Corey knew he was an ex. A bad one. One that I didn’t like. I didn’t know what else to do at the time. I couldn’t keep coming back to a place where every time I walked through the door it felt like I was being accused of infidelity when all I was doing was my job.

 

I brought up the possibility of moving in with Warren. A two bedroom apartment where I would have my own space. Corey asked if Warren and I would have sex. I said I didn’t want to, but there was still tension there, and history, so it was a possibility.

 

We broke up. He felt betrayed. I don’t blame him or begrudge him for those feelings. I would feel that way, too. I couldn’t sit there and lie to him, though. I was already being accused of being unfaithful, so there were the feelings and thoughts of, “What’s the point? I’m doing everything right and it doesn’t matter.” There were feelings of loneliness and isolation. Hurt. I knew even though Warren wouldn’t care for me the way I wanted to be cared for, that he would press for a physical relationship. That’s who he is.

 

Maybe that was weakness on my part. Small, shallow, unfair. I guess in the end karma worked itself out. I’ve written about the situation with Warren. I’m stronger for the experiences I’ve had, and while I don’t want to repeat them, I’m grateful for them.

 

But yeah, in the end Corey and I broke up. He didn’t want to talk to me. I accepted that our relationship was over and that he would most likely think of me as a terrible person for the rest of forever. 

 

When mom died I wanted to tell him, but didn’t. I didn’t know how at first. I didn’t know how to get past the hurt and resentment that were most likely still there to tell him what had happened. And then there was everything else life threw at me with Zane that I had to work through… It was always something in the back of my mind, something I “should” do, but never did.

 

It wasn’t until I thought I was moving to Vegas to live near Jason that I finally reached out to Corey to let him know what was going on. I needed closure before I moved and I needed him to know because mom had liked him. She had been sad we hadn’t worked out.

 

He was sad when I told him about her death. He thanked me for reaching out. We had lunch a few days later. And I guess the rest of the past few months is sort of history… There have been a handful of times where things become sexually tense, and I’m grateful that we both back away from it. Neither of us wants to go back to a relationship. I’m pretty sure he’s still hurt over the way things ended. In the beginning he would say comments to me which hurt. I eventually said I wasn’t sure where we stood because he would seem fine, like we were friends, and then he would make a comment which cut, deeply, and so I wasn’t sure. If he was still angry I would stay away.

 

I don’t remember the conclusion of that conversation. I think he apologized. There haven’t been more comments so right now it feels like a fond friendship. He accepts when I’m sad without trying to change it, which I appreciate. 

 

Watching Deadpool had been a plan from a few months ago which had gotten canceled. The offer to watch the movie yesterday seemed nice. I didn’t really have anything else going on other than finding food and showering. I ended up going over for dinner. We had burgers and while the movie was playing I cross stitched. After it was over I helped clean the dishes.

 

Before I had left for my walkabout I had given Corey all of the food I still had. He didn’t use all of it so he gave me back what was left along with some things he had personally bought but no longer planned on using.

 

I came home. I processed through my notebook. It’s the first time I’ve had to do that in a while. I made it through a whole week of making to-do lists. I did a good job of completing most of them, too. So it wasn’t a hollow action. I actually did shit with my time. Go me.

 

I have my weekly list written out. A lot of it is waiting, though. Waiting to find out about the apartment. Waiting to see if I get an interview. Waiting to get the test date for my certification.

 

Waiting, waiting, waiting…

 

I’m not good at waiting. I feel like I should be doing something.

 

I don’t have a lot going on today. Grocery shopping for a few things would be nice. Tomorrow is laundry day since it’s cheaper on Tuesdays, so I “shouldn’t” do it today. Boxing would be good, but I still have three hours before that.

 

I guess I’ll figure it out.

 

Tomorrow is the six-month mark of mom’s death. I don’t know what that will be like. I thought I would be scared of that day. I see the wave coming. I know what it’s going to feel like. I know how it’s going to pull me down. But I’m not scared. It’s not unknown anymore.

 

Maybe this is progress. Maybe this is learning to cope. Tomorrow seems so easy when faced with the reality of December.

 

I guess I’m going to go for now. Caffeine is needed and punching bags await.

Daily Post 132: Lists and Pictures

It’s morning. I’ve been awake for a few hours which surprises me. I had a hard time falling asleep so I had thought I would be slow and sluggish today, but not so. I can’t say that I’m really heartbroken about it. Even though I had some really good times on my walkabout, there were a lot of really hard times, and I started having bad dreams while I was in Texas which made sleeping hard. I haven’t recapped that part of the journey yet, so I’m sure I’ll write about it eventually. Not right now, though.

 

The takeaway from all of that is I slept last night, and slept well, which is something I had started questioning if I’ll ever be able to do again. I guess I can. I just have to almost kill myself with a boxing workout first. Who knew?

 

I did have a really long, really weird dream, but it was a lot of random and disconnected scenes and so this is actually the first dream that I can remember which I’m not putting much stock in.

 

I’ve already showered and cooked breakfast. My coffee is sitting beside me, neglected as always since writing takes up too much of my processing power to remember that I actually need the caffeine. I’ll get to it eventually I’m sure.

 

I have therapy at 11 this morning. That’s way earlier than when I was normally going, but it was the only spot available when I messaged. I don’t mind. I’m happy I get to see my therapist and tell her about the trip. She recently went on vacation, too. It will be nice to share stories with her.

 

I guess I should talk about yesterday a little… You know… since this is a “daily” post…

 

I got a lot taken care of. I went to the storage unit again and started poking through my boxes. Pulled out some stuff to bring back with me like my dish rack. I got a new cross stitch project out of my stash. I actually ordered hand dyed fabric the other day for a pattern I bought while I was in Texas. I can’t wait for it to come in. I would like to finish both of these projects before I move into my apartment.

 

I put air into my tires and got gas for the car. I went to Publix for a few things, including a sushi bowl for lunch. Went to the bank for a cashier’s check. Eventually I went to boxing where I had a pretty intense workout. I’ve gone the past two days after at least a month of almost nothing, and nothing consistent for the past six. I know I need to be kind to myself and not push too hard. The sadness has an easier time taking hold when I push past my limits. Because of that I didn’t go to combat practice yesterday.

 

I’m not sure if I wrote about SCA combat… I’ll get into details in another post, but basically I’m learning how to beat people up with swords. It’s awesome.

 

I was super tired and dehydrated after boxing, so I came back to my room, climbing up three flights of stairs in the process, where I cross stitched and listened to an audiobook for the rest of the night. I also made dinner and tuna so I have lunches. Look at me being a responsible adult, drinking water and eating nourishing things… 

 

I should be getting Scarlet back later tonight. That will be nice but requires a bit of setting up as far as the room goes. Nothing major. Just moving a few things around. Since she can’t jump very well I want to put the mattress on the floor. It seemed to work well with the air mattress. 

 

Oh. Speaking of mattresses… my friend is getting rid of the one he currently has since he’s getting a new bed. He offered for me to have the old one for free, and a couch for cheap. Yay for having furniture for the new apartment. Still need some other things, but I’m glad those two items are off the list.

 

I suppose I should also mention that I’m writing on my older brother’s Surface tablet. I ended up buying it from him, so I now have a laptop of sorts. It’s been amazing so far. I went out I got a messenger bag so I can carry my paper notebook with me along with my Surface, and all the other odds and ends that I normally keep in my backpack.

 

I like the smaller bag. The backpack is sort of overkill now since I’m not having to carry a change of clothes with me to work.

 

My body is sore today, but it still feels like it will be a pretty decent day. If I were using my friend’s scale I would most likely say today is a seven. At least at the moment. For now I’m going to go so I can write up a to-do list for today and start picking away at it.

 

That’s something I’ve been doing since I’ve been back. Sunday I went out and bought a new notebook. I’ve been making a list every day since Monday. Logically my brain goes, “Well, that’s only three days. Do you want a cookie?” Honestly though, making a to-do list used to be a core action for me. Every day, no matter what, I made my to-do list. Either right before bed or in the morning with breakfast. It was like brushing my teeth or taking a shower. It was like breathing. It just happened, no questions asked.

 

I’m trying to get back to there. I’m trying to figure out me in the wake of mom’s death and to-do lists are part of that me. I miss them. I miss the structure, the accountability, the guidance, the reliableness. I wasn’t perfect with them before mom’s death, so I’m not looking to be perfect now, but four days in a row is pretty good in my book, so don’t mind me while I sit over here sipping coffee feeling accomplished.

 

Here’s to trying to have another good day. Cheers.

 

Oh… and a cute picture that a friend sent me, because who doesn’t like cute pictures?