That’s what life feels like right now. I’m busting my hump just to stay “almost” where I’m not quite good enough. In the last year, I’ve abandoned dreams, lost hopes, and survived. I’m not wanting to write on the blog anymore because I’ve bared my soul to the world on here, and I don’t have time to do anything like this. It’s not like anyone even gives a crap, and yes that is bitterness. My own husband didn’t even know that I’d made a blog post this whole year, and he helped me restore the thing when it got hacked, he even has posted to it. It’s not about being angry at him, though, it’s anger at my own self for letting another thing slide. I had plans. I saw fireworks and sparks and ripples in the universe. And now I’m stuck in ratraceville.

I don’t like office jobs. I mean, maybe that’s not true, because I had a little home office here that I was digging. I have sacrificed and toiled and everyone keeps telling me that all a person can do in this life is just do what you have to do to scrape by, and everything in my soul refuses to accept it but then how are those kids gonna eat? I’m 34 and because I screwed up when I was in my 20s I’ve got this path ahead, and I DON’T believe in that b.s.!!! Yet here I am, dead brother and all, pitching a fit and trying to stifle myself from speaking about certain things. I make peanuts at a job I’m too cowardly to vent about on the web lest it get back.

I’m a raving lunatic, is what, in my mind, but outside I’m all smiles and pleasant – that’s even a nickname at the office for me…

I can’t decide if I want to abandon the blog or not. My renewal comes in July, not that that makes any sort of sense. I thought I had two years. I can’t even find my contract. I don’t know where half of my life has gone this past year. I’ve been in a fog, stumbling from day to day. Suddenly one day I woke up, and discovered I liked sex and the taste of food and had dreams and shit, but guess what? I’ve traded all that in for steady and reliable. I’m so self-absorbed, too, in this post, and so many fucking others. This blog was going to be about freedom and space and nerdiness and IDEAS! Instead it’s all emotion and venting and wailing and bouncing and even soaring and happiness, but no ideas. I hate that, too.

I’m such a malcontent. I’m angry at myself for being depressed, and I’m stiflingly depressed some days. There are breaks, but I feel like a trapped rat. I haven’t started gnawing my legs off yet.

Anyhow, now that I’ve unleashed that at the world, ha, let’s be realistic, T, at my own two eyes and possibly no one else’s, I’m going to make some promises to myself. Since I kept the promise to write again, even though I think it’s kind of pointless but I haven’t said any of this, though I’ve hinted at it to a few people.

1. I’m going to start working out again.
2. I’m going to get a job that I enjoy. Even if it’s not a perfect fit, I am going to not find my daily life torturous.
3. I’m going to start meditating again.
4. I’m going to start writing again, even if when I write I despise myself when I read the words on the paper.
5. I’m going to quit fucking wallowing and playing it so damn safe.

P.S. (subset of #5) Yes, I do drop the F bomb. If you find this Mom, you’re going to have to deal. There’s so much worse wrong with me than that.

I freaking mean it, too.

Got hacked, had to change the password a zillionty times, and had to dump the old theme. I haven’t cleaned up since, partly because I need to do more than just write a post. Work has been an adjustment. But I need to write, and I have a year more of the domain name paid for, so I’ll be back. If I write it here I’ll do it.

Much love to all my Peeps! (That joke was mildly funny when I meant to post this on Easter. Oh well.)

This Sunday, my favorite radio station got the axe thanks to Citadel Broadcasting.  I shouldn’t be surprised, because it seems as soon as I get attached to a station, it will be cut soon in favor of something more corporate.  This time, the rumor is that WAPI, a local AM talk station, will move to FM.  This mirrors the similar fate of 105.5 the Vulcan last year.  I liked the Vulcan, too, and had just about decided to give up on Birmingham radio all together. I was going to just go to the internet. And then Live 100.5 won my heart.

To the best of my understanding (and faulty memory — correct me if I’m wrong on any of this, I’d appreciate it) Live 100.5 was built around a show, Reg’s Coffeehouse, that has survived a few incarnations in the Birmingham market.  I’ve listened to some version of Reg’s Coffehouse for ages, probably all the way back since 1997.  Then his show was just a Sunday a.m. special DJ on WRAX.  WRAX bounced around a lot, and even in 2006 became WJOX for a little while, a Citadel sportstalk station but it didn’t work out, and the Birmingham public clamored for something better to replace the old WRAX.  That something became WWMM Helena, Live 100.5.

Reg (Scott Register) and I don’t always see eye to eye on music.  He loves John Mayer, for example, and considers himself at least partly responsible for that tool’s success.  But Reg always is about expanding your music collection, trying new things, and not closing your mind. He even played country music (*gasp*) on an alternative station! Old stuff, new stuff, Reg was an honest DJ and all about the music. And the station was built on that concept, too. You could tell it, because it wasn’t a conventional lineup by any means. Tuesday nights were one of my favorites, because the DJs would get together and play new stuff and ask the listeners to voice their opinions. If we liked it, we heard more of it, and things like it. If the listeners generally hated it, we weren’t subjected to it. Even if I hated something they were playing, it was so cool because they actually cared about the music and the listeners. They weren’t out there just shilling the same old corporate music.

Right now the station hasn’t made the transistion to WAPI. Instead, they’re just playing “automated” music and stock commercials, no DJ personalities involved. And it’s already pretty bad. Yesterday’s Fleetfoxes, Neko Case, Flaming Lips and Johnny Cash have already disappeared, as far as my observation goes. There is hope, though, in the form of a humble Facebook page. My fingers are crossed that a public outcry will be heeded.

After that last whiny pity party of a post, I didn’t even want to look at this effing blog anymore.  (My hand still hurts, by the way, but it’s no longer purple or ginormous.) I decided to just wait until things felt right again, because I felt like it has been a platform for so much misery that it is painful even for ME to come out here.  I know that people might be worried about me, writing a post like that and dropping off.  I was so down in December.   The holidays were brutal.  So, Dear Readers, I figure it’s time to update you, and let you know that for the first time in a good while, I’m truly feeling great.  I’m not just smiling in the mirror and waiting for the mood to match it, then seeing my own face and starting to cry.  I’m actually forgetting about the damn mirror and living my own life again, and when I catch a glimpse of myself, it tends to be smirking or mischevious or in thought.  That’s more honest than just a smile anyway, at least for me.

Right now I’m focused on a job search and getting some things in order, so it’s going to be spotty, but I feel so much more like ME and I want to express some of that again.  So, here I am.  Time for another reboot.  I know many people hate New Year’s Resolutions and the like, but it’s a natural time to reevaluate for me.  My birthday, my wedding anniversary, and the New Year all come within three weeks of each other. It’s a time of looking over the past year, seeing what has happened, and how to continue that path if it’s working, or to change it, if it’s not.  I didn’t really consciously decide to change my attitude, though I’ve been trying to work on it steadily, but a switch seemed to flip for me on the last day of the year.  The emotional significance on making it through the year strengthened me, and all the whining and misery kind of dropped off.  Yeah, since then I’ve had bad moments, but mostly I’ve felt confident and optimistic again.

I wanted to start 2010 off with a bang, and I really managed to do most of what I wanted.  No fireworks, but there was a gorgeous round full moon the night of New Year’s Eve. It was a blue moon and an eclipse was visible on the other side of the world, to boot.  My year would be starting with beauty.

On New Year’s Day, we had the traditional collards, black eyed peas, and I even added cabbage in this year for good measure. I wore a pretty new sweater, to show I wanted more of the same.  I didn’t do any cleaning at all — so as not to sweep the good luck out, and also not to spend the rest of the year cleaning up messes.  I had friends over, and we had a good time. The luck and money gods have not been slighted this year.  Hopefully they will reward me with heaps of green stuff and luck in my endeavors.

I think there really is something to starting the year off like that.   While the charms and tokens might not in and of themselves bring the good luck, the attitude will, I truly believe.  If I start out thinking, “2010 is going to suck as hard as 2009 did” — a FaceBook status I’d already read twice by noon January first — then the prophecy might be self-fulfilled.  Yes, I know that the arena of uncontrollables is out there, waiting to zap me.  I’m all too aware.  But I’ve sustained a good half a month of really good days.  I expect more to come.

I was in a wreck this Saturday.  Not a big deal, really — the damage you see on the left is the worst of it.  My fingers are jammed and it hurts to type because the airbag deployed into them.  My neck and shoulders are actually pretty sore too, and random parts of my body.  Everyone else was pretty much fine, and the cars were covered by insurance.

Have I mentioned being discouraged?  I am.  It’s funny, because that night I was feeling pretty good.  I was even in the middle of a conversation when the wreck happened about plans for 2010, and how things were going to pick up really soon.  Christmas had worked out pretty well, with the kids being royally spoiled by grandparents, and I was seeing a glimmer of something better.  It’s typical.  I dare to express hope and *BAM*!

Oh my gosh, I’m pulling up as hard as I can!  I’ve got to be levelling off soon, right? I need someone to pet me; I need to catch a break; I need to remember how to breathe.  2009 isn’t over yet, but I hope the worst of the damage is over.  I think my resolutions for 2010 are already written for me. I just need to fix just about everything in my life, starting with my outlook.

Not so fond of Ben Bernanke, though. For real? Person of the year?

(Yes, I’ve been busy. I’ll be more active here when I have the mental stamina.)

Only December to go to finish the year out!  Hooray!  I seriously hate this year.  2009 has been the suckfest of all my life. Oh, I know there may be worse times to come, but I don’t want to imagine it.  I’m so sick of the holidays already, with all the cheer and the happy and family fun times, YAY!  I want to enjoy it, and sometimes I do, but other times it makes me gag.

I read The Bell Jar today.  Started it last night, really.  I enjoyed it, very much in the same way I enjoyed The Catcher in the Rye, though I think today’s book was more pertinent to me.  No real revelations, though.  I can seriously empathize with mentally ill people, and there are times when I wonder if that just means I’m sick, too.  So many conversations that I had with Lauren the week before he died, and me saying, “Me, too, I totally understand that!” and now I worry that there’s some hidden monster in me waiting to kill me.  Especially on days when I just don’t want to get out of bed, when life just seems a dreaded chore, I worry. What would I do if something overcame me?  Am I wired the same way?

Obviously, mental illness is on my mind, and the holidays, and so many other things.  The parts of The Bell Jar I sympathized the most with, though, were the feminist portions, and the life decisions parts.  Feeling paralyzed that one decision excludes all others is a very familiar conundrum to me.  Right now I’ve got to choose something for survival that might throw me off a track that I was enthusiastic about, that I thought my whole passion was behind.  Was it really?  Was it driven out so easily because it wasn’t my passion, or am I just going through what all the books really say?  Why don’t I believe that the books and the psychology apply to me?  What is the right decision to make for my family?  (What about the right decision for me?  And why do I think to add that when I’m reviewing the blog post 10 minutes after I originally published it?)

Tomorrow it’ll be different, after the kids get up and get out of bed I’ll concentrate on them, and doing the laundry, and all the other steps that need doing.  But now is the time I’m thinking and whirling in my mind and all I catch are shadows of what would have been if I weren’t such a dumbass and could figure it all out.  And I don’t know what to do and I’m sick of not knowing what to do and I’m tired of walking into the other room to discreetly cry a few tears and then pull my hair down to hide my face behind.

So maybe the book did do me some good, and was cathartic, since I’m a wreck right now.  I’m just going to revel in being free and having finished what I started.

As I was making my morning coffee, I realized that I’d forgotten to post at all last night.  Red Chief was puny, and I was distracted with trying to cheer him up.  Both of the boys and I watched Moose and Squirrel in bed together until we fell asleep.  Did you know that Rocky and Bullwinkle was around in 1959?  I didn’t, but when I realized that they were speculating on the existence of moon men, I had Chris wiki it for me real quick.

In the midst of all of that, I just forgot all about the blog.  I was furious at myself when I realized, though.  I railed about how if someone else had asked me to promise to post every day, I’d have done it.  But since it was a promise to myself, I broke it. Didn’t do the novel, no, so I’m going to stick with blogging, and still I don’t even make that. I’ve no idea why I don’t treat myself with the respect I’d treat others, but this is just another example, and typical.  So close to being finished, and I blow it. Even now, looking at the clock, I wanted to just say “screw it” and go on, not blogging for the rest of the month.

I guess I’m pretty burnt out of blogging right now, if I tell the truth.  I’m also struggling with other issues, and wondering where the line between utterly stressed out and grieving and truly depressed lies.  Of course, if I decide I need more help, then I have to decide how to get it, what with the lack of income and all.  One day at a time.  I’m seriously sleeping too much. I suppose I should be proud of how well I have done, given the month, but all I saw was one more broken promise.

I’m aggravated at myself, but I am not allowing the typical “well, I blew it, let’s go the whole distance” tantrum that I’d normally throw to fully punish myself.  I’m working on that self-forgiveness thing.  It really isn’t that big a deal, if I look at it as if I’m another person.  When it’s me,”good enough” doesn’t seem to exist.  Right now tiny failures terrify me anyhow.  I need to work past that, because the only cure for that is inactivity, which is unacceptable.

While I think this picture is self explanatory, I guess there’s some people who won’t get it. The Iron Bowl was a great game, and Auburn really played well, but Alabama did win in the end.  We found this poor Auburn fan half-heartedly yelling “Roll Tide Roll” at the top of her lungs in the middle of nowhere at an Exxon station. We assume that’s as close to civilization and true public humiliation that her family could come up with. I did ask her permission before taking the picture.  She sighed, “Yes, I have to do that, too.”

Bless her heart.

After swearing for 15 years I would never ever do it, I played Axis and Allies today. The Spousal Unit to Be set up on the extra bed in my dorm room bed once, and after about an hour of trying to parse the rules I got exasperated, sat down on the bed beside it, destroyed Asia and half of Europe, and declared victory. I wasn’t going to play that game ever ever ever. I also never have succombed to Risk or almost any other war games of the board sort. Chess and checkers notwithstanding, of course.

Anyway, my friends are over, and peer pressure does work on me on rare occasions, depending on the peers. And, darnit, of course I had a little bit of fun at it, too, after my brain stopped hurting from so many rules all at once. Sooo many rules! We stopped after about 6 hours of gameplay or so, because my attention span had enough, but maybe it wouldn’t be incredibly awful later now that I know the rules. Or… maaaaaybe I’d deign to play Risk. If Jared didn’t bring any blue decks over. I’m not promising anything though.