Soon to buh-bye



Yeah, you.

I'm leaving this place, and I think you should come with me.

The cake - she is not a lie.

This isn't goodbye...

Jeebus. I'm about to transfer this bitch over to Wordpress, and I'm super-scared.

Um, well, if this doesn't work, I'm gonna be really pissed, and it was nice blogging, but I will be eating this entire computer (it's a desktop - there's quite a bit of it) if it doesn't go through successfully.

See ya on the other side. &=\

One-time mania



I think this is about as "manic" as I get. I had my first good day today. Like, first semi-good, got out of bed, intermittently did the dishes, didn't feel world crashing on shoulders day that I've had in a long time.

So, B says we have to go see a friend tonight. We go over to friend's house, which is hard, because I'm not drinking or smoking right now, to stay clean (and because of shit that happened, which SUCKED. But, I'll wait and blog about that, when I move my blog over...), and...well, I just need to do this. It's just hard for me to go over to B's friend's house, because it's all that regular nonsensical redneck talk - N***** this, fag that. And, it totally grates on my nerves. Like, my nerves on a cheese grater. And, I keep my mouth shut, because there are times where you just have to - everyone, now - choose your battles.

Incidentally, I HATE those battles. Because it makes me so angry in my head that I don't want to fight with words anymore. I hate that hate. I'm already DEALING with that hate. So, I have to just shut my mouth and look at the pretty stars, or worse - I end up as the babysitter. But, if I have to hang out with people who are stickier than me, just to get a word in edgewise, then I guess that's what I'll do.

SO. B had five out of a six-pack, one hit, and he was ready for bed when we got home. It was 930p. It is now 1242a, and I'm still bursting out of my skin. I suddenly have mondo-energies, and I'm feeling slightly panicked, for whatever reason.

Ummm...MONDAY. Monday, I'll be going to the career center in Alabaster. I'm really nervous about that. Hell, I'm nervous just taking the dogs out. But, this "Jennifer Joad" is going to have to be exercised, like a demon. I'm sick of her. I DO enjoy playing with inchworms and bees and letting the dogs out whenever I want and NOT having to clean up poos when I get home from work. But, she's scaring me. I don't like not being able to look people in the eye when I talk to them. I feel like an agoraphobic...and I very much am not. I've never been. I'm pretty lazy, and I do like my own space, but I've gotten to where I climb B like a spider monkey, when he gets home, and that is ALSO not me. Every time I do that, and he has to unclench my hands just to be able to go take a wiz, I'm like, "What the hell has happened to me? I've undone every bit of independence I've ever had. This is ridiculous. I'M ridiculous!"

I've been doing a lot on Facebook with animal rights stuff. Not that *I* have done anything - I've just been reading a lot, researching and reposting. Okay, so I take it back - I'm not doing much of anything, except hanging out on Facebook. Then, I look at the clock, and it's 3p, and - that's right - nothing's been done. I get REALLY depressed when B's not here, but I get really frustrated when he is. It's a lose-lose sich.

Oh, and the St V/Pell City gig is a no-go. They've got me marked as ineligible for rehire. Asses. I don't want to think about that.

Um...what else?
Oh, I cut myself again. It was the night of "hugest mistake ever, hence the no drinking/smoking deal," but it was also the night of discovering who my real friends...weren't. And, I'm over it. Exceeeept, now I have this lovely gouge in my left forearm to remind me. It's on the inside of my arm, about 8.5 inches long and extends from my first finger on my palm, a little over halfway down my arm. And, yes, I feel stupid. And, no, I don't remember doing it. But, I never said I wouldn't cut myself again. I've never made that promise. I never make promises I can't keep.

Yeah, it was a dummy move, but I did a dummy thing.......which resulted in being judged by a bunch of dummies, so there. I was upset at the time, but I'm good now. It was one of those "don't get fucked up around people you don't know" moves. And, I never will again. Yup. QB taught me my lesson. Even though she's guilty of that and SO much more, I was the one judged and ousted.

And, this is my response:

Rude. Yes. I know. And, totally not my style. But, I've already done my apologizing, and I'm finished. I've already felt bad, but the more I dwell on it, the more I realize that I was wronged as well.

Jesus, this is turning into the zebra ALL over again.

Which is why I'm glad it's over. Because it was ALWAYS drama. And, I'm too old for that. She's even WAY older for that, but whatever.

Back to me.

Hmmm....I think I'm going to play Dragon Age. I wish I could play Paper Mario on Wii. Actually, I wish I could just have peace of mind to just sit down and cross-stitch, but I feel like I just ate a packet of lit bottle rockets.

Fuck. I wish I could write something that didn't sound like a fucking page out of "Dear Diary." Meh. I will. One day.



Mmmmkay. One more time, I haven't been a good blogger. It's been a moderately stressful last week or so. And, when you live in the woods and don't have a lot going on, there's not really a whole lot that's worth blogging about.

I'm actually about to jump in the shower, then I'm going to head out, to fill out an app at a staffing service, since their web page isn't working. I'm trying to keep myself motivated to do things because, A) we're out of money, and B) I'm swatting depression off of me like naggy flies. My car is in serious need of repair and an oil change, of which I can afford neither, so I really SHOULDN'T be leaving the house. But, jobs aren't exactly knocking on my door these days. I'm suddenly a part of the "X-Ray Do Not Want" list, which blows, nor do I understand, but that's for another post. One day. When you guys are bored. And, I'm full of woe. And, can't find anything else to bitch about.

Fo' now, Imma go shower. I've got so much shit around here that I still need to do, but I'm not even the slightest bit motivated. I swear, if they could bottle motivation and sell it on the street like crack, I'd take it. I would freebase motivation. I'd even take it in suppository form. This is ridiculous. I know other people have those days of not wanting to do anything, but mine seem to be, um, EVERY, SINGLE DAY.

I hadn't been taking my meds, because I didn't feel like they were making a whole lot of difference, but sure enough as I came off of them, I started feeling worse than ever. So, they're doing SOMEthing - just not what I need them to do.

Plus, I can't figure out what of this is pure laze, and what is depression. Does it matter? Is there really a difference? Because I'm not getting ANYTHING done, no matter what it is. And, my feelings of "LOSER" are starting to set up house again, which makes it even HARDER for me to find that elusive motivation.

According to Google, motivation looks like giant boobs in a fish-eye lens. Yeah. That just makes me motivated to make money, so I can get a boob job and a camera with a fish-eye lens, so I can post my junk on the internet.

Oop - nope. It's gone again.

Okay. My smell is motivating me out of this chair. It's almost 1030, and I've got shit to do. There. That's my motivation for the day. That, and Jack's whining. Although, that's about enough to motivate me to run outside the house with no pants on, screaming.

Oh, yeah. Shower. Here I go.