My blogging skills are horrible these days! I feel bad neglecting this little space, but . . . well, I honestly just haven't really felt like blogging. That's said, it's the end of April, so let's talk about February! (Fair warning, it's a LONG entry).
February was a total roller coaster of a month--some really good things happened, and so did some really crappy things.
At the beginning of the month (the 6th, I think), I had my review at work (MHC), and absolutely killed it. My boss pretty much told me I'm awesome, she's always impressed with me, and that she looks forward to seeing what I accomplish in my next year with the company. Pretty high praise from my boss, because she doesn't say things like that lightly. I was incredibly flattered/proud/happy. Of course I got a raise (a good one). Plus I got to enroll in the online CPC class just after my review, which is awesome! I won't lie, the class is a little harder than I was expecting, but I'm glad I'm doing it. I just keep thinking of being able to almost double my salary once I have my certification, which is a pretty decent incentive.
Not long after I had my review and all that, Jerbs got a new job!! She's working at an urgent care now, doing front desk stuff, and she loves it. She interviewed/got the job on the 13th, and gave Staples her two week notice on Valentine's Day, and her last day there was the 28th. I'm so unbelievably happy for her! She wanted to leave Staples for SO LONG and she finally got to! It's been a really good change for her. It was a little weird to pick her up at Staples for the last time, though. I mean . . . she worked there for 7 years, and that time frame covers all kinds of major life events: us dating, our breakup, our first move to the east side, the entire whirlwind of me and Ex-Fiance, me coming back to Flagstaff . . . that's a lot! I got a little weepy, but she was mostly like, "Fuck it! I'm done! Woohoo!!" It's been good to see her so happy.
At the end of February (like the 22nd, I think), I went to an Eric Paslay concert. He's kind of an up and coming country singer, and I really, really like him, and the tickets were only $25, so I figured why the hell not? He performed at the Museum Club, which is this honky tonk bar in town (it's actually pretty well known throughout AZ, but I'd never been there). I took my friend from work, Katie, and bought her ticket as a graduation gift, since she's in her last semester at NAU. It was so much fun!! And I was really proud of myself for, y'know, having a little bit of a social life and going out with someone who isn't Jerbs.
As for the bad . . .
Not surprisingly, it has to do with Stompy McFatAss, the wretch next door.
So February 9th (day before my effing birthday, mind you), I treated myself to Pita Jungle for dinner, and picked it up on my way home from work. Also keep in mind that at this point, we hadn't heard anything from Stompy since that night in January when her apartment flooded and she had Jerbs call 911. Also keep in mind that she hadn't complained about the dogs since June of 2014--so 9 months of relative peace had passed. When I got home on the 9th, the dogs weren't barking, but when I got upstairs, there was a fucking noise warning on the door from the cops, AND a handwritten "anonymous" note from Stompy herself, saying that our dogs have been an issue for 2 years and that we had 48 hours to bark collar them or she was going to play the recordings she (supposedly) has of them "excessively barking."
Couple of things. First of all, Stompy hasn't even lived here for 2 years, she moved in over 4th of July weekend in 2013, so she's about 5 months off on her time frame there. Two, our dogs ARE collared whenever we're not at home, and if the batter in Max's died, I'm sorry. But shit happens, and to go 9 months without a word and then have it escalate like that . . . fuck. Three, I do not believe for even one nano second that this bitch has a recording of our dogs barking, and definitely not of them barking excessively. Even if she DOES have a recording of our dogs, it's a moot point, because, fucking newsflash, if you stand on my porch by my living room window for 20 minutes to record shit, my dogs are going to bark at you! They're dogs, you're trespassing, you're a threat, and that's just the way the damn world works. I was more livid than you can imagine, and it wasn't long before that lividness gave way to a total breakdown. I got anxious, convinced myself I was a worthless piece of shit, and bawled. I called Jerbs at work and told her what happened. At that point she called our complex and left a message asking about transferring our lease to somewhere else in the complex, because we were tired of our neighbor's shit. After Jerbs got home, we talked it over and decided we needed to move--right away if they'd let us, at the end of our lease if they wouldn't.
That all went down on a Monday. For the rest of the week, I refused to leave the dogs home alone, even with their collars. I took early lunches, drove home to pick Jerbs and the dogs up, took Jerbs to work, and let the dogs hang out in the car for the rest of the day. On Tuesday (again, my freaking birthday), I got off work, promptly had an anxiety attack, and realized that I didn't want to be home alone either. So I wandered around Bookman's, JoAnn, and Michael's, then sat in their shared parking lot until Jerbs was off at 8. Definitely not the best birthday I've ever had, and I'm still pretty pissed that the bitch ruined my 18th birthday.
It was a shitty week. I hated it, the dogs hated it, Jerbs hated it, everyone was miserable. On Thursday, Jerbs finally heard back from the complex. She said that at first, the manager was very customer service-y and chipper, told her that they don't usually do transfers without the lease being up, and asked which neighbor the issue was with to see if we could work something out. Apparently, when Jerbs gave the apartment #, the manager's tone completely changed, and she was pretty much like OH, that bitch. Apparently, we are far from the only ones who have complained about her, and she's an ongoing issue for the office. The manager was actually pretty incredulous that she complained about the dogs, and flat out told Jerbs that no other neighbors have ever said a bad thing about us. (Because, AGAIN, it's not a fucking issue)! She also said that she came up here once to talk to the neighbor about something else, and she heard our dog bark like twice ("to let me know he was there," as she put it), then stop. So she was basically like, yeah, sorry your neighbor's so nuts.
She said she'd see what she could do, and ultimately the answer was that we couldn't move right away, but they'd talk to the neighbor. So while the no transfer was irritating, it was a tremendous relief to know that the office/complex management is on our side and aware that this bitch is totally insane. In the meantime, Jerbs and I decided we'd just move when our lease was up and try to get a 2 bedroom (more on that later).
Since all this happened, Jerbs and I have stayed super diligent about setting the dogs up right when we leave the house. We put up a black out curtain so they can't see the porch, leave the TV on low for a little noise, put out special bones they only get when we aren't home, and, of course, put their bark collars on them. I also got 2 Skype accounts, one of which is logged in on Jerbs' computer at home, one of which is logged into on my phone. I log in and call from work, so I can watch and listen to what's going on at home from my office, PLUS if one of them does bark, I can tell them to stop via Skype. In the whole time I've been doing it, Max has barked once, and it was because a package got delivered on the porch. The Skype thing has helped me to relax a LOT at work. I'm hopeful that with all the issues our neighbor causes, she'll eventually get evicted.
And on the Friday after my birthday, my department co-workers brought cupcakes for a belated birthday gift, and that made me happy. A few co-workers remembered on my actual birthday: Katie got me a huge jar of chocolate candy and these hilarious Ninja bread men cookie cutters, and the sleep girls got me candy and lip gloss and nail polish. I love them, and was so glad a few people remembered.
So that was February. I imagine that someday I'll get around to writing about March . . . maybe in June?
Showing posts with label BS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BS. Show all posts
4.28.2015
1.09.2015
Our Neighbor Sucks
I'm pretty sure I've mentioned my and Jerbs' next door neighbor here before. Basically, she's a horrible, horrible person, who is miserable and hates everyone and everything and wants everyone around her to be miserable as well. I've never heard anyone complain as much as she does, and I've never even had a conversation with this woman; it's all just been overheard either when I leave and she's home, or when she's coming home and yelling at someone on the phone as she stomps up the stairs. (And when I say stomps, I mean it . . . our walls literally shake every time this bitch comes home, it sucks). We call her Stompy. Also, she always has her window open, and she makes all of her phone calls on speaker phone, so if our window is open, and we're quiet, we can hear everything.
So anyway, we hate her, and for the past year, we've lived in a state of perpetually wishing she'd just move out. And last night, it got a lot worse.
This whole past week seems to have been bad for Stompy. On Monday, people moved into the apartment under her. On Tuesday, when Jerbs was home, she had to call emergency maintenance for something. Jerbs said they were there for awhile, and that she could hear Stompy bitching at them through the walls the whole time. That same day, the new neighbors apparently went out, and their dog (or dogs?) was making noise. Jerbs was here, and could hear the dog scratching and whining, but she said it wasn't that bad. But sure enough, at some point in the afternoon, she heard Stompy call the cops on the owners. The cops ended up not coming, because they know that woman's fucking nuts and overreacts to everything. On Wednesday, she had maintenance in her apartment again. Then yesterday, while I was at work, Jerbs overheard a conversation that was basically Stompy screaming at her disability case worker (apparently she's on disability, and it was disability that placed her here). Anyway, she was screaming at her case worker about how this place is horrible and there's tons of noise pollution (which is BS, this is actually a really quiet complex when you're not, y'know, totally fucking insane), and how she can't ever sleep (because she has a weird sleep schedule in which she sleeps during the day, which makes no sense because she doesn't work), and how it's just as bad as the last few places they put her (which really makes it seem like she's the problem), and how she wants to be moved to somewhere else ASAP. Which of course would be awesome. Jerbs texted me all this.
Then last night . . . good Lord. It was around 10:30 and we heard someone come up the stairs and knock on her door. It was emergency maintenance. Which made us laugh. But we really didn't think anything of it. Then, around 11, I went to get ready for bed. So I'm in the bedroom, sitting on my bed, putting on chapstick, when I hear someone screaming, "Call 911!! Call 911!! Call 911!!" And I hear Jerbs saying, in response, "OK, I'll call them, just calm down . . ." So of course I freaked out. I honestly thought something was on fire, so I ran out to the living room, where I found Jerbs, on her cell phone, clearly trying not to laugh.
Apparently, the maintenance guy hit a water main in Stompy's apartment, which caused her apartment to flood. And in the mind of Stompy, the appropriate response to this was to run onto our porch, screaming for us to call 911. (Bear in mind, too, that maintenance was IN HER APARTMENT when this happened, so really, the correct type of help was already there). But Jerbs did call 911, and they sent out some firefighters, who left very, very pissed off after about 10 minutes of establishing that there was nothing they could do and that our neighbor is a moron.
I was so freaking mad. Seriously, you do NOT scream for someone to call 911 because your apartment is flooding. It was ridiculous. It's aggravating that after all the time she's bitched about us, she ran to us expecting help, first of all. Not to mention that calling 911 for that was a complete and utter waste of emergency services. Needless to say, my adrenaline was pumping after that (I work in a cardiology clinic . . . when someone screams for you to call 911 like that, it means someone is freaking dying), and I absolutely couldn't sleep. I think I finally dozed off around 2 in the morning, which was super awesome when my alarm went off at 6. I ended up skipping my shower and sleeping an extra hour, which didn't really help much.
On top of all that, I had to stay the full day at MHC today, and cover the front desk from 1--5. I didn't leave work until almost 6, and after that I was at SHF until 8. Which basically means I worked a 12 hour day on 5 hours of sleep. I am EXHAUSTED.
Thank goodness I'm on vacation all next week!!!
So anyway, we hate her, and for the past year, we've lived in a state of perpetually wishing she'd just move out. And last night, it got a lot worse.
This whole past week seems to have been bad for Stompy. On Monday, people moved into the apartment under her. On Tuesday, when Jerbs was home, she had to call emergency maintenance for something. Jerbs said they were there for awhile, and that she could hear Stompy bitching at them through the walls the whole time. That same day, the new neighbors apparently went out, and their dog (or dogs?) was making noise. Jerbs was here, and could hear the dog scratching and whining, but she said it wasn't that bad. But sure enough, at some point in the afternoon, she heard Stompy call the cops on the owners. The cops ended up not coming, because they know that woman's fucking nuts and overreacts to everything. On Wednesday, she had maintenance in her apartment again. Then yesterday, while I was at work, Jerbs overheard a conversation that was basically Stompy screaming at her disability case worker (apparently she's on disability, and it was disability that placed her here). Anyway, she was screaming at her case worker about how this place is horrible and there's tons of noise pollution (which is BS, this is actually a really quiet complex when you're not, y'know, totally fucking insane), and how she can't ever sleep (because she has a weird sleep schedule in which she sleeps during the day, which makes no sense because she doesn't work), and how it's just as bad as the last few places they put her (which really makes it seem like she's the problem), and how she wants to be moved to somewhere else ASAP. Which of course would be awesome. Jerbs texted me all this.
Then last night . . . good Lord. It was around 10:30 and we heard someone come up the stairs and knock on her door. It was emergency maintenance. Which made us laugh. But we really didn't think anything of it. Then, around 11, I went to get ready for bed. So I'm in the bedroom, sitting on my bed, putting on chapstick, when I hear someone screaming, "Call 911!! Call 911!! Call 911!!" And I hear Jerbs saying, in response, "OK, I'll call them, just calm down . . ." So of course I freaked out. I honestly thought something was on fire, so I ran out to the living room, where I found Jerbs, on her cell phone, clearly trying not to laugh.
Apparently, the maintenance guy hit a water main in Stompy's apartment, which caused her apartment to flood. And in the mind of Stompy, the appropriate response to this was to run onto our porch, screaming for us to call 911. (Bear in mind, too, that maintenance was IN HER APARTMENT when this happened, so really, the correct type of help was already there). But Jerbs did call 911, and they sent out some firefighters, who left very, very pissed off after about 10 minutes of establishing that there was nothing they could do and that our neighbor is a moron.
I was so freaking mad. Seriously, you do NOT scream for someone to call 911 because your apartment is flooding. It was ridiculous. It's aggravating that after all the time she's bitched about us, she ran to us expecting help, first of all. Not to mention that calling 911 for that was a complete and utter waste of emergency services. Needless to say, my adrenaline was pumping after that (I work in a cardiology clinic . . . when someone screams for you to call 911 like that, it means someone is freaking dying), and I absolutely couldn't sleep. I think I finally dozed off around 2 in the morning, which was super awesome when my alarm went off at 6. I ended up skipping my shower and sleeping an extra hour, which didn't really help much.
On top of all that, I had to stay the full day at MHC today, and cover the front desk from 1--5. I didn't leave work until almost 6, and after that I was at SHF until 8. Which basically means I worked a 12 hour day on 5 hours of sleep. I am EXHAUSTED.
Thank goodness I'm on vacation all next week!!!
4.29.2013
That's What I Get For Asking What The Odds Were
My thyroid is fine.
Completely, 100% fine. Well within normal range on both TSH and T4. Everything else about me is fine too: glucose, iron, anemia test, and EKG, all normal. All "perfect" according to the hack at North Country.
So basically, what we know is that I'm in excellent health except for the small fact that I'm too tired to function and I'm a full 15 pounds heavier than I was two weeks ago.
Y'know, no biggie. It's not like I need to, y'know, live or anything. I can totally just sleep for the rest of my life. Sure.
Needless to say I'm a little pissed.
Let's start at the beginning. On Sunday I checked my voicemails and there was one from NCHC, from the 25th, left a couple hours after I called and bitched and yelled and got a follow up appointment. I don't know how I missed the call, but regardless, it was an MA saying that the hack had finally gone over my labs and that they were all normal. I considered not even bothering with the appointment but those tests were done 2 months ago when I had no symptoms so I figured I'd go and see what happened.
This stupid bitch refused to re-test either the TSH or the T4, and she insisted that there is absolutely 100% no way that my levels could have changed in the two months since those tests were done. She did, however, run a quick glucose test, an anemia test, and for some reason, an EKG, all of which were totally normal. The best she could suggest is that it's depression . . . without any other depressive symptoms. She was like, "Have you lost interest in the things you enjoy?" And I said that no, I haven't lost interest, I just don't have the energy to do them at the moment. She said we should consider Lithium toxicity and I was like, are you effing kidding me? Do you think I don't know the symptoms of Lithium toxicity? My psychiatrist has hammered them into my head at every freaking visit I've ever had with him so I know what to watch out for and I do.
My favorite part, though, was the repeated insinuation that I'm lying about my sexual history. At my first visit with the hack, she suggested a couple times I have an STD screening, which believe me, I do not need. Even remotely. Today she flat out said I could be HIV+ and I should consider being tested . . . even after I told her several times that I wasn't interested in STD testing. I was so fucking offended. I can't even . . . good lord, I can't even tell you. And I could just tell she thought I was lying, which I know happens, but it definitely wasn't the case here. It was very upsetting. And then she did a urine dip to check for sugars and proteins and all that, and she fucking had a pregnancy test run as well. Without telling me she was going to do that, which is fairly illegal, and also totally pointless. She was like, well, you're not pregnant! No fucking shit Sherlock!
So I guess at this point the next step is to talk to my psychiatrist about possibly adjusting my AD dosage (the hack didn't understand why I was on such a low dose and I was like, hello, bipolar?)
The good news is that I bitched enough to not get charged for today. So go me.
I'm really disappointed, because I missed 3.5 hours of work for nothing, and I was really sure I'd walk away with an answer and a solution, and instead, I still feel like shit and I have no idea what to do about it.
Maybe the hack is right and it is a depressive episode. I mean, it's possible, I guess. Maybe I'm just not sleeping well . . . there are some issues with that right now but as far as I'd thought, it wasn't that significant so . . . who knows. Maybe I just have had a touch of the flu or something, or maybe it's a mono flair up.
I just know that right now I'm flat out dreading just living because I'm so fucking miserable.
Completely, 100% fine. Well within normal range on both TSH and T4. Everything else about me is fine too: glucose, iron, anemia test, and EKG, all normal. All "perfect" according to the hack at North Country.
So basically, what we know is that I'm in excellent health except for the small fact that I'm too tired to function and I'm a full 15 pounds heavier than I was two weeks ago.
Y'know, no biggie. It's not like I need to, y'know, live or anything. I can totally just sleep for the rest of my life. Sure.
Needless to say I'm a little pissed.
Let's start at the beginning. On Sunday I checked my voicemails and there was one from NCHC, from the 25th, left a couple hours after I called and bitched and yelled and got a follow up appointment. I don't know how I missed the call, but regardless, it was an MA saying that the hack had finally gone over my labs and that they were all normal. I considered not even bothering with the appointment but those tests were done 2 months ago when I had no symptoms so I figured I'd go and see what happened.
This stupid bitch refused to re-test either the TSH or the T4, and she insisted that there is absolutely 100% no way that my levels could have changed in the two months since those tests were done. She did, however, run a quick glucose test, an anemia test, and for some reason, an EKG, all of which were totally normal. The best she could suggest is that it's depression . . . without any other depressive symptoms. She was like, "Have you lost interest in the things you enjoy?" And I said that no, I haven't lost interest, I just don't have the energy to do them at the moment. She said we should consider Lithium toxicity and I was like, are you effing kidding me? Do you think I don't know the symptoms of Lithium toxicity? My psychiatrist has hammered them into my head at every freaking visit I've ever had with him so I know what to watch out for and I do.
My favorite part, though, was the repeated insinuation that I'm lying about my sexual history. At my first visit with the hack, she suggested a couple times I have an STD screening, which believe me, I do not need. Even remotely. Today she flat out said I could be HIV+ and I should consider being tested . . . even after I told her several times that I wasn't interested in STD testing. I was so fucking offended. I can't even . . . good lord, I can't even tell you. And I could just tell she thought I was lying, which I know happens, but it definitely wasn't the case here. It was very upsetting. And then she did a urine dip to check for sugars and proteins and all that, and she fucking had a pregnancy test run as well. Without telling me she was going to do that, which is fairly illegal, and also totally pointless. She was like, well, you're not pregnant! No fucking shit Sherlock!
So I guess at this point the next step is to talk to my psychiatrist about possibly adjusting my AD dosage (the hack didn't understand why I was on such a low dose and I was like, hello, bipolar?)
The good news is that I bitched enough to not get charged for today. So go me.
I'm really disappointed, because I missed 3.5 hours of work for nothing, and I was really sure I'd walk away with an answer and a solution, and instead, I still feel like shit and I have no idea what to do about it.
Maybe the hack is right and it is a depressive episode. I mean, it's possible, I guess. Maybe I'm just not sleeping well . . . there are some issues with that right now but as far as I'd thought, it wasn't that significant so . . . who knows. Maybe I just have had a touch of the flu or something, or maybe it's a mono flair up.
I just know that right now I'm flat out dreading just living because I'm so fucking miserable.
10.09.2012
Snowball
I don't know if this happens to anyone else, but, sometimes when one thing happens to tick me off, it snowballs and all of a sudden all I can think about is EVERYTHING I'm ticked off about.
That's what's going on right now. I was in a fine mood up until like a half an hour ago.
What started it was bad news. I was looking at the Kingman newspaper's website and on the front page, one of the obituaries was for the husband of a close friend. I was shocked and sad. This friend is a former teacher of mine; she was my junior high band director and we played together in the community orchestra. She is the reason I didn't give up music; she is one of the most amazing women I have ever met. She was so glad when I came back and re-joined the orchestra, and it was amazing for me to get to know her on a social level. She now teaches 1st grade at the school where Ex-Fiance teaches and she was one of his biggest allies last year when he was so miserable, and they're now good friends.
I'm sad for her, obviously, for losing her husband. But it's also so frustrating to not be there for something this big, y'know? It's frustrating to me that someone I've known for so long is going through something and I had no idea--but Ex-Fiance knew, and she and Ex-Fiance have probably talked about it. And it's this hugely awful anxiety inducing feeling that Ex-Fiance is living my life, that just because he and I broke up means I don't have a right to my home town or the people in it. Some of those people I've known for nearly 2 decades for fuck's sake.
And I'm mad that Ex-Fiance didn't bother calling or texting me to let me know. He knows that this woman and I are close, he knows that I miss her . . . it's like he wants to keep that life for himself and it feels so not fucking fair. It's kind of a sharp reminder of what the reality is--that I can imagine and hope all I want that Ex-Fiance and I are just taking a break and that we'll eventually get back together but that the truth is he doesn't give a flying fuck about me and we are done done done.
So I was in a bad mood over that, and I knew I needed to just calm down and go to bed. While I was getting ready for bed I checked my voicemails, and one was from my psychiatrist's office from a few days ago. It was kinda mean and basically said that they're closing my chart if I don't schedule an appointment within 30 days.
First of all let me say that I tried to call them twice yesterday to set up an appointment and both times I got their voicemail. Second of all, I don't think they realize how difficult my financial situation actually is. My last paycheck was $111, which doesn't even cover the cost of one half hour appointment with my psychiatrist. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my psychiatrist but it's like, when I don't make enough in a full two week pay period to cover an appointment, shouldn't I get a little bit of a fucking break?
And then, naturally, I was thinking about how I can't afford it, and I remembered that I still haven't heard back from the awesome interview place and I just got frustrated. I want that job SO BADLY and I'm so disappointed that I misinterpreted it. I'm frustrated about this situation in general. I've been up here for a few months now and I feel like I've hardly moved as far as self improvement.
Anyway, that's my rant for the night. I'm already starting to calm down, but now all I can think about is how badly I want to see Ex-Fiance and how much I still want to be with him.
I need to go to bed.
That's what's going on right now. I was in a fine mood up until like a half an hour ago.
What started it was bad news. I was looking at the Kingman newspaper's website and on the front page, one of the obituaries was for the husband of a close friend. I was shocked and sad. This friend is a former teacher of mine; she was my junior high band director and we played together in the community orchestra. She is the reason I didn't give up music; she is one of the most amazing women I have ever met. She was so glad when I came back and re-joined the orchestra, and it was amazing for me to get to know her on a social level. She now teaches 1st grade at the school where Ex-Fiance teaches and she was one of his biggest allies last year when he was so miserable, and they're now good friends.
I'm sad for her, obviously, for losing her husband. But it's also so frustrating to not be there for something this big, y'know? It's frustrating to me that someone I've known for so long is going through something and I had no idea--but Ex-Fiance knew, and she and Ex-Fiance have probably talked about it. And it's this hugely awful anxiety inducing feeling that Ex-Fiance is living my life, that just because he and I broke up means I don't have a right to my home town or the people in it. Some of those people I've known for nearly 2 decades for fuck's sake.
And I'm mad that Ex-Fiance didn't bother calling or texting me to let me know. He knows that this woman and I are close, he knows that I miss her . . . it's like he wants to keep that life for himself and it feels so not fucking fair. It's kind of a sharp reminder of what the reality is--that I can imagine and hope all I want that Ex-Fiance and I are just taking a break and that we'll eventually get back together but that the truth is he doesn't give a flying fuck about me and we are done done done.
So I was in a bad mood over that, and I knew I needed to just calm down and go to bed. While I was getting ready for bed I checked my voicemails, and one was from my psychiatrist's office from a few days ago. It was kinda mean and basically said that they're closing my chart if I don't schedule an appointment within 30 days.
First of all let me say that I tried to call them twice yesterday to set up an appointment and both times I got their voicemail. Second of all, I don't think they realize how difficult my financial situation actually is. My last paycheck was $111, which doesn't even cover the cost of one half hour appointment with my psychiatrist. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my psychiatrist but it's like, when I don't make enough in a full two week pay period to cover an appointment, shouldn't I get a little bit of a fucking break?
And then, naturally, I was thinking about how I can't afford it, and I remembered that I still haven't heard back from the awesome interview place and I just got frustrated. I want that job SO BADLY and I'm so disappointed that I misinterpreted it. I'm frustrated about this situation in general. I've been up here for a few months now and I feel like I've hardly moved as far as self improvement.
Anyway, that's my rant for the night. I'm already starting to calm down, but now all I can think about is how badly I want to see Ex-Fiance and how much I still want to be with him.
I need to go to bed.
6.30.2012
Numb
Today I've just been numb. The combination of it being my would have been wedding day and the day before I move away from Corey (potentially for good) has not been pleasant. I feel numb and shut down and almost outside of my body. I really can't believe this is all happening.
I've gone through the motions. I got up at baby sat Saucy, I ate, I went to work and did my job, but I was on autopilot.
I do not want what's happening. I don't want to leave, I don't want it to be over, I don't want anything to do with any of it.
I still hope that this isn't the end; I still hope that someday soon Corey and I will reconcile and that I'll move back here. But still, my head hast just been in non stop attack mode today. My thoughts have been racing, thinking things like, this is the last time I'll do this or that, and it sucks. I can't even begin to describe every thought in my head because they're all fleeting and scattered but . . . well, like I said, it sucks.
Last night before I went to bed, I just thought, I should be in Sedona right now, wide awake because I can't sleep because I'm so excited that my wedding's happening soon. This afternoon I found myself thinking, I should have been married by now; I should be at my little reception, celebrating with my family and friends. As the sun was going down, I was thinking, right now I should be alone with Corey, watching the sunset at some romantic spot in Sedona as newlyweds.
It fucking blew.
And of course I don't want to move. There is nothing I want to do less than move, especially back to Flagstaff of all freaking places.
I try to tell myself to be calm and to be patient, and that if I make it through this, and hang in there now, and really work hard to get myself to where I want to be, then the reward will be worth it. I just hope that's true.
I've gone through the motions. I got up at baby sat Saucy, I ate, I went to work and did my job, but I was on autopilot.
I do not want what's happening. I don't want to leave, I don't want it to be over, I don't want anything to do with any of it.
I still hope that this isn't the end; I still hope that someday soon Corey and I will reconcile and that I'll move back here. But still, my head hast just been in non stop attack mode today. My thoughts have been racing, thinking things like, this is the last time I'll do this or that, and it sucks. I can't even begin to describe every thought in my head because they're all fleeting and scattered but . . . well, like I said, it sucks.
Last night before I went to bed, I just thought, I should be in Sedona right now, wide awake because I can't sleep because I'm so excited that my wedding's happening soon. This afternoon I found myself thinking, I should have been married by now; I should be at my little reception, celebrating with my family and friends. As the sun was going down, I was thinking, right now I should be alone with Corey, watching the sunset at some romantic spot in Sedona as newlyweds.
It fucking blew.
And of course I don't want to move. There is nothing I want to do less than move, especially back to Flagstaff of all freaking places.
I try to tell myself to be calm and to be patient, and that if I make it through this, and hang in there now, and really work hard to get myself to where I want to be, then the reward will be worth it. I just hope that's true.
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