Thursday, December 11, 2008
I'm interesting
I'm not sure how many of my friends regularly use Twitter, but I've decided that I'm interesting enough that I should probably get one, so that I can tell everyone I know everything about every day of my life! It's a perfectly crafted blogging substitute, for those days when I don't feel like writing a book. I even got the "Twitterific" application for my iPhone, so updating my Twitter is as easy as sending a text message! So, if you would like to know what I'm eating for dinner, or what TV show I'm watching, or how many times my cat just sneezed in a row, please feel free to come on here and look at my Twitter widget, or 'follow' me on Twitter!
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Stay home
It might be the winter weather. It might be the recent turmoils in my life weighing me down. It might just be that I'm lazy. Whatever it is, it's urging me in the strongest way to just stay home. All the time. And above all else, it urges me to stay in bed. I come home from work, and the first thing I do is crawl into bed. It's soft, and it's warm, and it's so so comfortable. It makes me feel safe and secure. It takes away the feeling that I'm shirking duties.
"The kitchen is dirty? Oh, I'll clean it. But not now, I'm in bed. I'll clean it when I get up."
And then I just don't get up. Or I delay getting up until I have something else to do that does not involve chores or anything else I don't feel like doing.
It's even getting into my dreams. Today is my first day back at work after 3 days off. I should feel refreshed and ready to come in, but my dreams say otherwise. The dream started out with me waking up, looking for my work clothes, and finding them completely missing. They just didn't exist. I started to panic, ended up finding some nice black pants and a white shirt to wear instead, but I had gained too much weight to fit into the black pants, so my only option was jeans! (I have, by the way, been gaining a lot of weight. I don't exercise at all anymore, and I have a strange insatiable hunger for everything fattening. I haven't even weighed myself, I'm afraid to see what I've gained.) Anyway, I got to work, Kitty (my manager) told me that my dress was completely innapropriate, and that I was going to be written up, and wasn't allowed to work until I found my clothes. I woke up a little out of breath. I had the feeling that I had been talking out loud moments before I woke up, and I hoped I hadn't bothered Christopher... but I think I woke him up several times last night.
I managed to get back to sleep after that, and immediately went back into dreaming. This time, I was driving to work, and (I can't remember his name) the bald man from Heroes that makes blue fire was in the middle of Mill Plain just a couple blocks from my work, and he was rampaging all Hulk style; throwing cars, throwing fire, screaming and lunging at every passerby. I decided that since it was such a big deal, that I would be excused for being late, so I went to Starbucks and bought a Soy Chai Latte (Yummm!) and sat outside for a few minutes listening to the car alarms and screams coming from down the road. I looked at my phone, and saw that I was now over half an hour late for work. I didn't care. I woke up.
I went to sleep again, and in this dream I was standing right across the street from my work watching it burn. Seriously. It was on fire in the worst possible way. I knew instinctually that I was now laid off. You can't exactly work at a nonexistant hotel, and mine was most definitely not going to exist anymore. I had a huge sense of relief. Also worry, because I obviously need to pay rent and buy food, etc., but I didn't want to go to work. I didn't ever want to go to work, and now I had a fantastic excuse not to.
I'm sure that a lot of this subconcious worry stems from recent conversations with my father. He wants me to start school again. Which means that for another 2-4 years (my last 2 year degree took me 4, so I'm estimating on the high end) I will have to spend every waking moment working. Go to work, eat, go to school, come home and do homework while eating, sleep, repeat. That was my life for a few years, and I don't want to do it again. I don't know if I can. It's not that I've grown any more of a social life than I used to have, but I do have a boyfriend that I enjoy spending time with. I also have grown accustomed to getting an appropriate amount of sleep at night, and having time to watch tv, and anything else I need to do. I think I might be weaker than I used to be. And as much as I love my boyfriend (I really really do, Christopher is fantastic) I feel like if I had to go to school as well, that my "this isn't fair" feelings would start getting even bigger. He doesn't do many chores around the house. He's been trying to be better, but I still find myself doing the majority of the work. I go to work 5 days a week. He doesn't have a job. He does go to school, but only for like a day and a half, accumulatively. He usually spends about 4 days a week not doing anything but playing games. And although it is a little off balance, I think a lot of my feelings are unjustified, because I remember how hard it was for me to work and go to school and never have a moment to breath, and he doesn't have to experience that hardship. When we started dating, I literally had to fail one of my classes to be with him. I just skipped it and spent time with him instead, and that was the only time I had with him. I feel like he should have to work harder, because I did, and I recognize that those feelings are not fair. I should be happy for him, because his parents worked to make sure he had the opportunity for this kind of leisure during such a stressful time of life. In my defense, in a live-in relationship, they do say you should sweat equally. Meaning that if I work for 40 hours a week, and he works for 30 hours a week, he should spend 10 cleaning or doing something to for us before I should have to do anything else. That's why housewives can stay home, and it's still fair. They do all the laundry and dishes and cleaning and child-watching. They "sweat" equally, if you will.
I feel like if Christopher had a good enough job to let me stay home, that I would definitely pull my share. I would be so grateful.
This has turned into WAY more of a rant than I thought it was going to be..... I apologize. The real point here is that I want to stay home. I'm so tired of coming to this repetitive, pointless job. I want to make something for myself. Christopher will probably never be able to support us well enough for me to be a stay at home mom. That's okay. Not a lot of people can afford that anymore, and I understand that. If we could manage it, I know I would have enough time to take care of all the chores, put in a nice dinner for us, and volunteer too. I know how to find meaningful work, just not how to get paid for it. It's just that I know of hundreds of people who have meaningful jobs that they look forward to going to. They may not make a lot of money, but they're good jobs. They help people. They help animals. They help. I just take reservations at a hotel..... I feel like I'm wasting my time. I know lots of things that I could do to move myself forward, but it all seems like either way too much work for me to handle, or like I'm reaching for some far off star that I will never be able to touch. I'm almost embarrassed to talk about some of my ideas, because people look at me like I'm insane. I almost don't blame them. Starting a feral cat rescue? Seriously? It's rediculous. Where do I get the funding? Where do I put it? Is that what I want to do with my whole life? I just look like a crazy cat lady.
And trying to fight whatever kind of depression I'm working on right now PLUS being considered a crazy cat lady is a little too much for me. So I'm putting off my dreams until I can get more emotionally stable. Or am I emotionally unstable because I'm not going after my dreams? I don't even know. I just want to go home.
"The kitchen is dirty? Oh, I'll clean it. But not now, I'm in bed. I'll clean it when I get up."
And then I just don't get up. Or I delay getting up until I have something else to do that does not involve chores or anything else I don't feel like doing.
It's even getting into my dreams. Today is my first day back at work after 3 days off. I should feel refreshed and ready to come in, but my dreams say otherwise. The dream started out with me waking up, looking for my work clothes, and finding them completely missing. They just didn't exist. I started to panic, ended up finding some nice black pants and a white shirt to wear instead, but I had gained too much weight to fit into the black pants, so my only option was jeans! (I have, by the way, been gaining a lot of weight. I don't exercise at all anymore, and I have a strange insatiable hunger for everything fattening. I haven't even weighed myself, I'm afraid to see what I've gained.) Anyway, I got to work, Kitty (my manager) told me that my dress was completely innapropriate, and that I was going to be written up, and wasn't allowed to work until I found my clothes. I woke up a little out of breath. I had the feeling that I had been talking out loud moments before I woke up, and I hoped I hadn't bothered Christopher... but I think I woke him up several times last night.
I managed to get back to sleep after that, and immediately went back into dreaming. This time, I was driving to work, and (I can't remember his name) the bald man from Heroes that makes blue fire was in the middle of Mill Plain just a couple blocks from my work, and he was rampaging all Hulk style; throwing cars, throwing fire, screaming and lunging at every passerby. I decided that since it was such a big deal, that I would be excused for being late, so I went to Starbucks and bought a Soy Chai Latte (Yummm!) and sat outside for a few minutes listening to the car alarms and screams coming from down the road. I looked at my phone, and saw that I was now over half an hour late for work. I didn't care. I woke up.
I went to sleep again, and in this dream I was standing right across the street from my work watching it burn. Seriously. It was on fire in the worst possible way. I knew instinctually that I was now laid off. You can't exactly work at a nonexistant hotel, and mine was most definitely not going to exist anymore. I had a huge sense of relief. Also worry, because I obviously need to pay rent and buy food, etc., but I didn't want to go to work. I didn't ever want to go to work, and now I had a fantastic excuse not to.
I'm sure that a lot of this subconcious worry stems from recent conversations with my father. He wants me to start school again. Which means that for another 2-4 years (my last 2 year degree took me 4, so I'm estimating on the high end) I will have to spend every waking moment working. Go to work, eat, go to school, come home and do homework while eating, sleep, repeat. That was my life for a few years, and I don't want to do it again. I don't know if I can. It's not that I've grown any more of a social life than I used to have, but I do have a boyfriend that I enjoy spending time with. I also have grown accustomed to getting an appropriate amount of sleep at night, and having time to watch tv, and anything else I need to do. I think I might be weaker than I used to be. And as much as I love my boyfriend (I really really do, Christopher is fantastic) I feel like if I had to go to school as well, that my "this isn't fair" feelings would start getting even bigger. He doesn't do many chores around the house. He's been trying to be better, but I still find myself doing the majority of the work. I go to work 5 days a week. He doesn't have a job. He does go to school, but only for like a day and a half, accumulatively. He usually spends about 4 days a week not doing anything but playing games. And although it is a little off balance, I think a lot of my feelings are unjustified, because I remember how hard it was for me to work and go to school and never have a moment to breath, and he doesn't have to experience that hardship. When we started dating, I literally had to fail one of my classes to be with him. I just skipped it and spent time with him instead, and that was the only time I had with him. I feel like he should have to work harder, because I did, and I recognize that those feelings are not fair. I should be happy for him, because his parents worked to make sure he had the opportunity for this kind of leisure during such a stressful time of life. In my defense, in a live-in relationship, they do say you should sweat equally. Meaning that if I work for 40 hours a week, and he works for 30 hours a week, he should spend 10 cleaning or doing something to for us before I should have to do anything else. That's why housewives can stay home, and it's still fair. They do all the laundry and dishes and cleaning and child-watching. They "sweat" equally, if you will.
I feel like if Christopher had a good enough job to let me stay home, that I would definitely pull my share. I would be so grateful.
This has turned into WAY more of a rant than I thought it was going to be..... I apologize. The real point here is that I want to stay home. I'm so tired of coming to this repetitive, pointless job. I want to make something for myself. Christopher will probably never be able to support us well enough for me to be a stay at home mom. That's okay. Not a lot of people can afford that anymore, and I understand that. If we could manage it, I know I would have enough time to take care of all the chores, put in a nice dinner for us, and volunteer too. I know how to find meaningful work, just not how to get paid for it. It's just that I know of hundreds of people who have meaningful jobs that they look forward to going to. They may not make a lot of money, but they're good jobs. They help people. They help animals. They help. I just take reservations at a hotel..... I feel like I'm wasting my time. I know lots of things that I could do to move myself forward, but it all seems like either way too much work for me to handle, or like I'm reaching for some far off star that I will never be able to touch. I'm almost embarrassed to talk about some of my ideas, because people look at me like I'm insane. I almost don't blame them. Starting a feral cat rescue? Seriously? It's rediculous. Where do I get the funding? Where do I put it? Is that what I want to do with my whole life? I just look like a crazy cat lady.
And trying to fight whatever kind of depression I'm working on right now PLUS being considered a crazy cat lady is a little too much for me. So I'm putting off my dreams until I can get more emotionally stable. Or am I emotionally unstable because I'm not going after my dreams? I don't even know. I just want to go home.
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