I have tried, for most of the day, to compose something. Anything.

No luck. Well, it's not luck is it? It's the fact that I'm swimming in this black morass in my head. Well, not exactly swimming, since this black goo is hardly liquid enough for that.. its more viscous. Was that a skeleton? Cripes, seems I'm not the only one who's been here.

Work is... well, work. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed by some of it at the moment, but I think that once I get the basic things into a routine I can deal with the monkey wrenches better. It just seems these days that everything is breaking. Phone lines, air conditioning, you name it. And then the difficult customers and I am the only one able to do the work. And then I come home and there's still more to do.

J got angry with me last night because I didn't dry the last few things when I did the dishes. Nor did I finish washing the little sticker things for corn on the cob because they are made of that horrible plastic stuff that just holds grease like nothing and I wanted them to soak. He told me he 'felt like a maid' because he had to finish what I started all the time. Normally this would spark an argument. I'd get angry and tell him just how stupid I thought that was or something but I couldn't even summon the energy to retort. In fact I had to try not to laugh. In the face of all the things he says he'll do, and then doesn't it just seemed so bloody ridiculous.

I did ask him how his day was, even though I had told myself I wouldn't because I knew what the answer would be: inevitably something along the lines of "Crappy", "Shitty", or "people are idiots". I'd asked him a few months ago if he could at least try to tell me one positive thing about his day and he was good for about two weeks. I don't understand why the hell it's so fucking hard for him. I can look out this window and see a bird and think how beautiful the bird is - even know while I feel like I'm submerged in sticky blue-black goo. I can even get a thrill out of the word "goo". So when I feel that positive energy my immediate instinct is to share it with him. What happens? Nothing. Maybe a smile, but often the response is forced. Perhaps he does have a lot on his plate, but he's not the only one and I'll be damned if I'm the only one who's going to make any effort here.

I suppose this is part of why I feel like I'm at the end of the rope. I'm the one reading the books and wondering and soul-searching and he's... well. He is. I ask him to talk to me and he tells me things, but it takes forever to drag how he really feels about a situation out into the open. I'm the same way. I know how annoying it is and I've been trying damn hard to be more articulate and forthcoming. It feels like I'm building a bridge halfway through a ravine and the person who's supposed to be building the other half has got completely paralysed by how deep the ravine really is. I know not to offer advice, because it merely infuriates him, and that, for me, is hard because I am a fixer. I can see solutions and my immediate impulse is to help, but sometimes that's not what is wanted. I think this is part of the reason I feel like we talk at cross-purposes. We both think we know what the other wants to hear when we don't. Logically, the next step is to try and listen better, right? Ask questions, and find some semblance of an answer.

I know what I want out of this life. I have goals. I have wants. Some of them are completely selfish and could stand to be amended, but others are essential to my very essence. I have been asking myself how my current circumstances affect those essential things and whether or not I can sacrifice one for the other, or if there are any kind of compromises available.

listening to: Enigma - Silence Must be Heard
reading: Blackbird n Silver - Freda Warrington
word of the day: helotry
drinking: iced tea
feeling: the ozone on my skin

Labels: little black raincloud, rant, rawr, wordgeek

Grrr. You know, sometimes people piss me off more than usual. This weekend seems to be one of them. My interior monologue (heh... I almost left it saying 'dialogue') is really quite nasty right now.

Dear people who come to the front door at 3am with their very drunk friends. When you realize that you've locked yourself out, do not think it's a good idea to buzz random people in the off chance that someone will believe you actually belong in this building and let you in. Do not throw a hissy fit when no one complies and for god's sake, take your screaming matches elsewhere. Do not try to force the door, or slam your weaselly little body into it on the off chance it'll pop open. Of course I'm going to come out on the deck and tell you to shut the fuck up and/or DIAF. Did you enjoy watching me talk to the cops? I certainly hope so, because I certainly did. However, I did not enjoy the occasion that prompted me to do so in the first place. Should I see your sober face anywhere in public I shall smile sweetly knowing that you and your little pissant friends spent a night in the drunk tank. I hope you got to be someone's bitch. Oh, and just fyi, the world does not revolve around you.

Bummer, eh? /rant

Woke up late this morning and was in a cranky mood (hrm, wonder why), so I really accomplished almost nothing save the removal of garbage and the cleaning of a toilet So I'm feeling crankier because I was such a lazy bones, but then I feel like I end up doing ... *breathes in* You know it's the same old shit. Again. I fucking hate pms when I'm already feeling like dirt, because it really does nothing to improve the situation, it my mental state.

I'm going back to my book. It's safer for everyone.

listening to: R.O.D theme song
watching: R.O.D 21 - Dream or Die
reading: Breath and Bone - Carol Berg
eating: guacamole
craving: a foot rub
weather: muggy
word count: nada
word of the day: flagrant
feeling: PMS-y
headspace: Jinbo-Cho

Labels: bring me cheese or die, DIAF, rant, SSDD

I love how my body delights in telling me I'm stressed out. Yesterday it was the shoulders, today it's the tummy. And yes, I ate breakfast. I've not starved the poor thing. At least not today.

Someone woke me up this morning by trying (again) to open my front door. I swear that is getting very, very old. Next time I'm just getting up, as is, and whipping the door open and screaming in their face, and then closing it again. Maybe the shock will make them remember that it's the wrong one. All I have to say is thank god J actually locked the thing when he left this am. Stupid addicts.

J decided that he was going to make some chicken broth/soup with the two chicken carcasses we had leftover from the roasters we got with groceries. He's keen about the whole 'lets save money by butchering our own meat' thing these days. Anyway, he got it cooking last night while I was sitting staring dumbly at my monitor and venting in text. He did ask at one point what kind of veggies he should put in and so I said 'celery and carrots and things' and even went in to help choose the herbs but I didn't clue until this morning when he told my groggy self could I please take the bones out of the pot that perhaps it wasn't a good idea to put the veggies in last night. I can tell you now it definitely wasn't. So I took everything out. Now I don't know if I have the patience to go through all the boiled-to-death veggies and such to dig out all the microscopic bones. 0.o

My deck is warm. The sun has warmed up my pillow. I have ginger ale and a good book. I might be back later.

listening to: Zero 7 - Pageant of the Bizarre
eating: soda crackers
reading: White Stone: The Alice Poems - Stephanie Bolster
Flesh and Spirit - Carol Berg
Escaping Toxic Guilt - Susan Carrell
feeling: ugh
headspace: still hunting through rubble

Labels: rant, wtf

I indulged in a candlelight soak in the tub today. I feel so much better, but I could certainly use a bleeding vacation.

I've been feeling a little overwhelmed by the sheer suckage that is the blinding monotony of my life. (And then I compose a sentence like that and I feel marginally better.) I mean, I go to work, get whined and bitched at about how crappy the American dollar is until I want to reach through the plate glass and smash someone's face in and then I come home and there's a pile of things "to do" that never seems to get any smaller. You know, when I imagined growing up I thought there'd be a tad more variety, you know?

As for the dollar thing... seriously folks grow the fuck up. I am merely the person who handles the cash, I don't make the fucking rules, nor do I make the stupid-ass decisions in government or business that affect how the bloody currency moves. If you wanna bitch, take it to your darling Chimpanzee... I mean president. I feel so sorry for whoever is president after him. There's going to be a LOT of shit to shovel.

Oh and what the hell is it with you people and not wanting to pay a fee? There is absolutely no place, anywhere, that won't charge you something and your refusal to part with a fee that's actually less than what you think it is because you don't understand exchange rates just tells me that you're CHEAP. That's right, I said it. CHEAP!! And for the last fucking time the ATM machines in Canada spit out Canadian dollars because you're in fucking CANADA already. You won't get your change in US dollars in stores because you're in CANADA! It was funny the first hundred times but now it's just old. Get your heads out of your asses for once, please.

Listening to: Creep - Radiohead

"But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here..."

reading: The Eye of the World - Robert Jordan
Eating: Tortilla Chips
Weather: still crap
Today's Project: My first attempt at cooking steak

Labels: rant