Self-Improvement, Again

Over the 4-day Christmas weekend, I had a determination to figure out what is wrong with me and fix it before work on Monday. I'm so tired of my own crap; I am ready to kick it out of me.

I'd never considered ADD before Wednesday, but the last day before the holiday break was difficult. Yet another day where my inadequacies haunted me and crying was not out of the question. My solution: get my psychiatrist to give me a prescription for Adderal. So, while I should have been working, I was googling 'how to get adderal'. One link led to another and I stumbled onto a book, by Sari Solden, Women with ADD: Embrace your Differences and Transform your Life. After reading the synopsis and reviews I HAD to have this book.

On the way home from work I drive to the local mall with the intent to visit the Border's Express and buy the book. Even with the Christmas madness, it was not that bad. I bee-line to the elevator, knowing if I traverse the mall to get to the stairs or the escalator I will get turned-around and frustrated. Since the bookstore is the predominant store I visit in the mall, I have memorized where it is. I get off the elevator, go around to the back, and discover the bookstore has closed. It has been changed to a sad-looking furniture store. I’m not surprised at this. I head back to the elevator, staring at the young couples with multiple young children, and wonder how on earth they cope.

I go home, and start raving to the husband that I MUST have this book before my 4 days off so I can read it. I have this feeling that if I don’t get this book and read it and digest it before Monday I will be surely be fired. We brainstorm about what bookstores are in our locale. He says, “Look it up online and make sure they have it. I am NOT going out Dec. 23rd and then they don’t even have the book.!” At this point I’m amazed that he is even willing to go with me, but I think he knows I’ve become completely obsessed, unstoppable and I’m leaving the next morning. So I scramble around on-line and Barnes and Nobles says they have it. I click the ‘Reserve this Book’ button and ignore the “Wait for a confirming email” warning. Off we go in the car.

We get there and the bookstore lady says, alas, Barnes and Nobles is ill-equipped. They don’t have it. But she takes me to the section it should be in. I flip through all the titles and leave with this: Making ADD Work: On-the-Job Strategies for Coping with Attention Deficit Disorder.

I like the book. It is non-judgmental and caring in tone. The work issues common to adults with ADD were familiar, such as constant fear of being fired, and an inability to complete seemingly simple tasks. It was also helpful and laid out good ideas for organizing a work day. Mostly though, it was inspiring to read about people out there who feel like I do day to day, or even worse, and manage to keep going.

So this is the problem du’jour, ADD. Even if I don’t have it the books may prove useful. I’m going to keep going with it.

Work Today

After getting to work REALLY late (as can be tracked by my blog post at 9:30am this morning) I listened to  a co-worker complain for a 1/2 hour about the security screeners at Raven's football games getting too close to grabbing his junk. He's standing at my desk talking loudly and saying, "I didn't fly those planes into those buildings, why are you grabbing my junk? They need to start profiling! This is the United States of America, I'm an American citizen, you can't grab my junk!" So that was very entertaining and I'm sure entertaining for everyone at least 4 cubicles in every direction.

I think I need Ritalin. I have no idea how to spell that, but that drug that makes you be able to focus and get things done. I need that. Cause I'm not getting shit done. And that bothers me. Geez I feel like such a loser. Nada, nothing done today. I try, but I like to talk to people and be entertained.

Maybe it is the consumer society that won't let me shake Christmas that has turned me into a complete moron that can only desire to be fed, comforted and entertained because I have had everything handed to me my entire life. Maybe. So I'll live in my cocoon doing nothing productive until it all catches up to me and I have to live in a tent on 8th Avenue and be fed by church groups. And during the day I'll walk up and down through town with my valuables in a back-pack. And sleep under a tarp in the homeless people city.

I see the church van parked there in the morning when I drive by on my way to work. And if I sit up tall as I'm passing I can see the tops of the tents through the brush. That's what we do with the people who can't keep up the game, we let them go live on a small patch of land that is apparently owned by no one. I guess the police do not bother them. I've never seen a police cruiser there,  only vans with church stuff written down the side.

So see, I need Ritalin so I don't have to live in a tent off 8th ave. That would suck. It's cold and the ground is not very soft. And where do you take a crap?

Disconnected Christmas thoughts

Why can't one opt out of Christmas?

I throw away Christmas cards as soon as I get them.

I haven't sent Christmas cards in at least 5 years.

Years ago I realized I am not a Christian. The family seems fine with that, but you can't opt out of Christmas. No, can't do that. Still gotta buy gifts and eat and bring with you some holiday cheer. Otherwise you might as well opt out of the family altogether.

Why can't people who really love Christmas keep it to themselves? Why does there have to be music and commercials all over the damn place?

When a friend gives me a gift, and I know she's in debt and is underwater in her mortgage, is that really a gift? If she didn't give me a gift, I wouldn't give her a gift, but she keeps doing it each year, so I keep responding.

My husband and I never exchange gifts, ever. Not for Christmas or birthdays or anniversaries. And we are both fine, no not fine, thrilled with that. But it really freaks other people out. They think we could not possibly love each other without buying each other gifts. That freaks me out.

The in-laws do a consumer Christmas. Straight-up consumer Christmas, no church, no games, no traditions, the food is not especially good, but they love it. I don't. It makes me sick to my stomach.

Is it gift giving/receiving if you have to make sure not to buy yourself anything for 6 weeks prior to the holiday to ensure you don't buy yourself what somebody has already wrapped you for a gift?

We are not wealthy by any standards, the in-laws especially are below average income I'm sure. But they nor we are not lacking in anything. There is not one thing they do without.  And none of them have even graduated from high school. Yet they complain they do not have enough. It makes my head spin.

You know the reason there are third world nations? Because they do not have a holiday where everyone in the country buys everyone they know a gift. That's the secret to capitalism, Christmas.

I want out, I've given up the religion, I never send cards, I don't decorate. I've wittled it down to very few people I buy gifts for, yet I cannot completely extract myself with at the same time extracting myself from society. It appears the only way to completely rid yourself of the day is to be born of non-Christian parents.

Yet Another Morning

I don't want to let myself slide down into the darkness, and need the Zoloft again. However, if needed, I would not think twice about taking it.

During the day I can manage well. It's the nights that might sink me. With a roll that should be simply changing positions, my mind fires up and reminds me of things I don't want to be reminded of. Things I don't even want to write down this morning. Things that are not necessary to speak of. Worrying type things, that I do not have any control over. Things that may be acknowledged, but then move on.

My mind grabs me, in the middle of the night, and tries to drag me down. Rumination is what it craves. But I'm trying to stop it at that moment it starts, to just shut it down. Immediately. In all my life I have never ever solved anything in the middle of the night.

When I was on Zoloft I went through a thought process like this:

"Oh, it wasn't depression, it's anxiety."

"Oh, it's not anxiety, it's constant rumination."

"It's not a ruminating habit, it's my inability to heal from one ruminating attack before the next one started."

"I can isolate these attacks and be myself inbetween."

And I can do that.

New Dog

New dog landed in our life. Chihuahua mix. Oh the adventure.

Work and Zoloft

Sometimes I wish I could work everyday.

Now Sunday I was to decorate the Christmas tree and all I have done is destroyed two strands of lights by trying to remove all the bulbs from one and put them into the other. Now neither strand lights. The house is a mess, the breakfast plates still sit on the table. (The husband made the breakfast.)

There's no chance in hell I'm going to get anything done today. It is 5:30pm and dark.

Let's face it, this is pretty good for me. I have been getting along ok at work. It is an easier job than what I had had before. And while I feel it is less prestigious, prestige does not make me feel good. Unless it is for the two seconds when I would tell someone what I did and they seemed impressed. So now, when I get the feeling I should be doing more to live up to my potential, I try to remember how miserable I was when I was doing that. And even then I wasn't sure I was living up to my potential anyways. You know.

But still I do like to work, so I wish I could find a job where I was good at it. All the jobs I have held in my life, I am pretty much barely mediocre. That is not a good feeling for me. I did have moments of doing really well in school, so I had thought that I would replicate that in my adult years, somehow, but it has not happened. Who knew getting an A in calculus was the high-point of my life, as far as achievements go. I try to talk to the husband about this, but he just immediately explodes. Maybe it is because I have asked him 1,000 times what he thinks.

I'm certain part of my disappointment with myself and my working career boils down to two things. My lack of social skills and just going in the wrong direction in college. I majored in engineering. My lack of social skills has always been an albatross, but in some strange way I feel a glimmer of hope regarding this. I believe I can work my way through this, in time. It's going to take a while though. I've never focused on fixing just that, sure I have forced myself to do social activities here and there, but I have never launched an depth self-analysis and come up with some cures for myself. I think I can do it. Years of therapy helped me get over my child-hood and begin to see how to get over depression, but for this next part, I don't need a therapist. I'm just going to write about it, and I know I will see a solution in my writing.

Figuring out what else I could do, besides engineering type jobs, is more difficult. When I suggested this to my therapist she really seemed shocked. Like why would someone want to throw away an engineering degree? And if I had made it through engineering school to begin with, surely I must have some aptitude. You don't just make it through engineering school without any talent, right? Well I'm here to say, yes, I think anybody can make it through engineering school, ok well maybe not anybody, but most people of college-bound intelligence. If you put in the time. Which I did, every evening at the library. Nobody ever believes me when I say that, but it is true. It was not easy for me, and I had little social life.

So I think back, how did I get on this dumb engineering idea? It all started when I was 15 and we moved from a suburb of Washington DC to Pennsylvania. To live with my Grandmother. It was hell. Trust me. For some reason I went from a girl who loved to read and imagined myself being a writer or a historian, to not thinking about any of those things. And for some weird reason, I started aceing every math test I took. My math teacher suggested I double-up on math courses the next year so I could take calculus my senior year. I did that and continued aceing tests. Then I took physics my senior year and did the same, aced every test. It was so strange, as I had never shown any aptitude for math and science before moving to Pennsylvania. I personally think it has something to do with going to a rotten school system and everybody in Pennsylvania was just dumb. I believe that. I received so much praise through this time, and I was a girl to boot! A girl being good at math?! Teachers got hard-ons; I got mis-directed. (Girls supposedly being good at certain things and boys at others is so last century, I wish the whole world would just get over it. My eye doctor always exclaims, "Oh it's the woman engineer!, and I just want to punch him in the nuts.)

I have considered going back to school, but for what? I have a list of about 10 things. But is it worth the time and money? What if I do all that and then I don't like it? So on this I'm thinking about it, but have not gone beyond that. One thing that getting through engineering school did for me, is I do believe I can figure out anything, eventually!

So my job now is technically still 'engineering' but more administrative than what I had been doing. While I'm bummed at not being more prestigious, I am glad I don't feel the stress as much now. Two months ago I stopped taking Zoloft. I had taken it for like 7 years, I think? I can't remember. Over those years I tried numerous times to stop. I remember at the beginning I thought I would take it for a year, and I did. And then I went off of it for a year. And that year got very bad. So I went back on it. I would try now and then to go off of it and would last a week or two. Only to scramble back onto it in a panic. So the past 2-4 months now, I have not taken it. And I did not plan it. I just stopped. Like unconciously or something. That's why it is hard for me to figure out how long it has been since I took a pill. It's like I knew I didn't need it and just stopped. I still have a full bottle in the cabinet.

I'm sure this is connected to having the less prestigious, less stressful job. I need to take advantage of this time. I can't just throw it away worrying about my prestige. I need to use my clear head and think. What can I do now? My head is clearer sans Zoloft. I know it is. My feelings are sharper. Hopefully the dark feelings will not grow like a weed and choke out everything else. I know the dark feelings are there, yeah, I know you're there. You are part of me, but not all of me. It's time to let the rest of me come out, and develop, and maybe pop out a bloom here or there.

"Cheers" signers suck

Here's a tip for anyone out there who feels the least bit humble:

If you encounter anyone who signs their correspondence with the salutation Cheers!, then beware. The signer is an ass.

My research subjects have included employees from two differing companies and numerous family members. The data collection period spanned 8 years.

You can allow some leeway to someone who is organizing a drinking get together, like a party or happy hour. Or anyone actually giving a toast.

However, a person who signs any electronic communication with Cheers! is most certainly an arrogant, male, who struggles to keep their condescending attitudes toward EVERYONE to a slow, quiet grumble. So they're not found out. But I have discovered a tell-tale sign.

Ironically, they use the Cheers! sign-off as a way to emphasize that they are indeed fun guys. Since the Cheers! user generally finds themselves to be superior to everyone around them, they sometimes can feel lonely. Their sign-off let's you know that you may be worthy to receive a tilted glass clink from them. Maybe. Fortunately the Cheers! sign-off is trivial enough that they have not offered their reader any true respect. It would be just a drink after all, and even blathering morons can manage to down a pint. But that drives home the point, the Cheers! user wants you to think he is fun. Beyond that he is quite certain of his unquestionable intellectual superiority. His power over you has been justly anointed on him because of this imbalance in intelligence between himself and everyone around him. Including you.

Start noticing, check out my hypothesis. I would love to hear if anyone in the world has come to the same conclusion. To back up my research.

(Alrighty, I already have feedback, from the husband. I asked him if I was using the word "hypothesis" correctly. Apparently the British use Cheers! all the time. I have heard of this. So I am clarifying that anyone in these United States of America who uses Cheers! is an ass. And come to think of it, they probably picked it up while on a business trip to the UK. Where they did nothing cultural other than notice that many people use Cheers!)

Facebook Anxiety Update

Like many other ubiquitous ideas floating around out there in society that I have learned to largely ignore, I will learn to deal with Facebook.

For example, women's magazines. In my teens and early twenties I did purchase these from time to time, drawn in by their promises. But I quickly learned that reading them did not help me in any way and only made me feel like crap. So I haven't read one of those, nor had the desire in....years.

I've learned to minimize the influence of morning talk shows on my life. At the beginning of my working life I would watch these as I got ready in the morning and I realized they always left me feeling unsettled, un-fitting in, not up with the crowd, and I always felt like the newscasters themselves were actors. So I don't watch them too often and when I do I always have this thought in the back of my mind, "What idiots.". By the way these idiots have also ruined the Thanksgiving Macy's Day Parade.

So the same way I have learned to live in a world with telemarketers calling my house every day, credit card and mortgage offers coming to my home every day, and every time I purchase something the cashier asking me for all my personal information and/or insisting I buy into their bonus/credit/savings plan, all these things that are bad for you, and everybody knows it, but we still let it occur, I will learn to deal with Facebook.

Death, not all it's hyped up to be

This morning I feel better. I lay in bed trying to figure out my entire life and where things went wrong and how they can be fixed. Then I got up, took some Mucinex, took a shower, got dressed and came downstairs to eat and look at my blog.

Suicide is an option, kind of. I used to hold it as the ultimate weapon against everything. I could pull it out at any time and end it all. When things were bad I would just sit and think about pulling a trigger next to my head over, and over and over and over. It does take the edge off. But I don't even own a gun (thank goodness).

I had an insight a couple of years ago. It ruined my death will solve everything theory. The insight has made death seem less like a humongous event that will end it all. A sharp, clear image came to me, of myself, waking up after I died. After a brief second of clarity, all the same emotions and issues and memories I could not get away from in life came flooding back. A wall of a flood, a natural force that was attracted to my mind like a magnet. The powerful force of death had simply pulled us apart for a second.

And then I cried and screamed and smashed the ground with my fists, because I realized I was not going to get anywhere, in any dimension, until I figured these issues out. My years on earth I had wasted, waiting for death, when I should have been using them to sort through the cess-pool of jealousy, guilt and hatred that is with me now, will be with me in the future, and has been with me from all eternity.

Facebook Anxiety

So I google Facebook Anxiety Disorder and there is not as much out there as I thought. However I did find a site, www.socialanxietysupport.com that had a thread about Facebook. After reading some of those I was laughing, then thoughtful, then realized I am making mountains out of mole-hills.

There are many strange isolated people out there. Sometimes it is hard for me to remember that, when in my day to day existence I appear to be the most dysfunctional person I know. But really that is very egotistical. I forget about other people in the world who may not have the good people in their lives like I have; my husband, my co-workers, my mother-in-law, my mom, my sister, my brother, my friend and then my other friend, my nieces and nephews, and some awesome aunts and uncles.

It's really not that bad dear, it's really not that bad.

Facebook Bubbles Surfacing

There are some people I am related to,
that I know I'm related to,
but I don't feel related to.
And I could never quite figure out why.

Looking at Facebook today I realized, the ones I don't feel related to ain't crazy. They -  ain't -  crazy. There aren't no crazy in 'em. And I can't understand that, it's completely foreign. How can I be related to someone who ain't at least a little bit about to go off?
                                                                                                          
I don't have many "friends", my little brother has over 1,000 friends. I briefly had the wild idea of asking all of his friends to be my friends, even though I am 20 years older and none of his friends would have any idea who I am. But it would be interesting to see how they responded. And the more friends I have the less I would have to focus or avoid or try to say "HI" to the few friends I have and that would be less awkward for me. With over 1,000 friends I could sink into oblivion, but it would be a respectable Facebook oblivion.
                                                                                          
I have atrocious social skills, a-tro-cious. I can hang on to a pair of socks longer than a friend. My husband doesn't count, he is held captive and has no escape.
                                                                                           
A good number of the people I look up, good friends from long ago, are not on Facebook. I have a theory that anybody I considered a good friend is probably freaked out by Facebook too!

Shot at and Missed; Shit at and Hit

Today has been one of those days. I barely got anything done that I am paid to do. I did stand around and talk to people and drink coffee all morning. Late in the morning after returning to my desk my cubicle-mate said she had thought I was in a meeting. I clarified for her, "No, I was wandering around the office talking to Ted, then Brandon, then Sean." After fumbling at my desk for half an hour I left for "lunch" and did errands around town and visited my mother-in-law.

~Sigh, sorry, this is taxing to recall.

The cubicle-mate reminds me that our self-reviews are due by Friday. Now reviews are truly awful torture implements devised by corporations to force workers to document how successful they have been at their jobs the past year and if they have completed a small list of extra-curricular activities to prove they are worthy of being promoted into middle management. And as if this is not nauseating enough, all these activities must align with the CEO's goals for the company, so before you can even begin to write your self-review you must complete a couple hours of research to see what you are aligning with.

God I do have to complete the damn thing by Friday...

Since I wasn't working anyway I emailed a friend I had not been in contact with for over a year, "Hey! Wondering how you're doing?!"

Her response a couple hours later, "Good. Busy with work. How are you?"

I contemplate a response, and think and type and backspace, "Good. Adjusting to it getting dark so early."

End of conversation. So an afternoon with spurts of work comes to a close with me reading some white papers on the internet, a last gasp attempt at self-improvement before packing up and heading home.

I check my personal email. There is an email from Facebook. A college friend whom I had left a "Happy Birthday! You're kids are cute!" message on his wall responded with, "They are fun, when can they see their Aunt?!" Now I haven't seen this person in years and I'm wondering if this is the kind of correspondence that should be taking place on his Facebook wall. What do I say? Yeah, let's get together? Is that correct? Does everyone on Facebook need to know? What if I respond inappropriately and then everybody sees what I wrote?

Oh I don't know and I'll never figure it out.

To round out the day, the husband delivers the message that he would feel less stressed out if I could get my own friends and then do things with them.

Blah, blah, blah.

So, at the half-way point of my life, I'm not in high school, I'm not starting a career, I'm not raising any kids, nothing....but I've still got a boat-load of shit I'm trying to figure out.

Thank goodness the sweet husband recorded a bunch of episodes of Being Human, it's a good frickin' show. It's deep, multi-layered. I'm lying on the couch watching it by myself, re-grouping so I can tackle tomorrow.

Another Morning

I am a capable human being. I am a capable human being. I am a capable human being. I...

Morning

Well, I tried this morning to do it. To do the getting up early, etc. etc. Put the alarm clock across the room. Didn't work. I got up and turned it off. I'm addicted to sleep. I did tell myself I should get up. Fear about what I have to get done today and how I will fail is what kept me horizontal.

For a brief second I thought who cares if I fail? What can they do to me? They can't enforce corporal punishment, though sitting through reviews is close. The root of the problem is my penchant for praise. Although that when I do get praise, all I do is shrug it off as a mis-informed person.

No time for revisions....as I'm already late.

I hate work; I love work. Third morning without work and I'm adrift and feeling anxious. The husband exclaims, "Just go in then!" but I know I can't. That's been tried before. If I went in I would sit, stare, wonder what to do, check my email, email my family 'Hi!', make coffee, determine the one thing I should do and start on it, decide I need more coffee, send out another 'Hi!' and wonder why no one has responded, work 10 minutes, suddenly realize the overwhelming quiet of the office and think that if I go home I could really get alot done there, pack up and leave. This sequence has occurred enough times that I realize trying it again is simply setting myself up for failure from which it takes days to recover. I need work for the structure it brings to my life.

I hate work; I love work. I like to have someplace to go in the morning, some people who are glad to see me. If I did not show up at all there would be some concern, and vice versa. Although I am an introvert, I'm no hermit and do enjoy regular social interaction, especially in a formal setting where a few phrases can completely fulfill my obligation to the other. I have two jobs and in my second job, as a receptionist at a veterinarian's office, I get to have short conversations with the patients owners. It's kind of perfect for me, memorize a few lines, and have patience while letting others talk about their pet. I need work for the socialization it brings to my life.

Oh Shut Up!

The husband loves Thanksgiving.

I feel it is the most boring day of the year, second only to Christmas. If I can survive the entire month and half it takes to get the god-forsaken holiday season over with without buying a pistol and then blowing my brains out in the mall parking lot, then it has been a success.

Newton's Purr - a sound similar to that of a diesel engine

Newton, my faithful cat of 15 years, is leaning up against me as I type. My loyal, ever-present friend with the big soulful eyes. He is always there, when I wake in the night he is across the top of my pillow. When I eat dinner he is at the right of my dish. When I work out in the yard he follows me closely. When I tell him it is time to come in for the night, he meow-purrs as he picks himself up and comes to the sound of my voice. When watching TV he lays on my chest. He paternally will hold down my hand with one paw and lick it clean, because he knows I need it, even if I disagree. He has been with me through a room-mate, a boyfriend, a husband, four different domiciles and a cadre of other animals. He has been sick and had to go to the emergency room, he has been lost so I had to search for him, he has been in fights causing me to run out into the yard screaming hysterically at local tom cats. He's travelled in my lap on long car trips. He has soiled and ruined many a throw rug. When we had two litters of kittens he became Uncle to all and taught them about good manners. He has even taught two puppies what is and what is not acceptable behavior. He has taught me that best friends let you live your life, forgive you when you forget about them, and still accept you with love when you are ready to notice them again, letting you pick right up where you left off.

Don't ask me, I'm just going with it

Had a lovely three day weekend visiting family in NC. Had many long conversations encompassing the past, present and future. Spent hours in the truck with the husband, walked on the beach, saw a pileated woodpecker, bought gifts for folks, and got myself some excellent soy candles (which are burning now). After arriving home I called my friend to see how her weekend was and now have laundry in the washer.

What an efficient, loved and loving human I am. From here on out I will be calm and happy and the house will stay clean and I will not get jealous of others, and I will stay in touch with people and do thoughtful things for them and prepare healthy meals for me and the husband. The future is going to go so well, why have I ever had a worry? It's so easy, just give love and kindness and it all comes flowing back.

I'm going to go upstairs and put in the whites.

"I owe I owe so off to work I go"

Eating a bowl of cereal and watching the rain outside. How I wish I could continue to sit here and read and write and think.

Keeping the Eyes on the Prize

About a month now I have been checking out a certain blog daily. It is a "professional' blog written by a woman with "credentials" (apparently) in the career advice arena and she has 57,000+ subscribers. The writing is easy to read, thoughtful, short enough to read during a lunch break and leaves you with a small  nugget of an idea, then still have time to check my bank account, eat my lunch, and bull-shit with a co-worker. Sometimes I will jot down little notes to myself while reading her blog and then look at them later as an attempt to "improve" my working self.

I was slightly hesitant to make this blog a habit as the author could be a lunatic. It's the comments that really disturb me however. Really jolly, agreeable, comments just to comment. I don't like it; the whole "read this and then see what other people had to say about it". I like that for on-line recipes, book reviews, reviews of stuff I'm going to buy...and that is it. I don't like thoughtful ideas to be critiqued by the internet public. Because I don't trust people. So when I read the comments it would start me questioning the whole blog and if it was even worth spending any time reading it at all. So I say, self, just compartmentalize this puppy, read the blog and garner what you can from it, skip the the comments.

Simply not reading the comments was working out until the lady-blogger linked to another chick's blog. And this chick has nothing on the lady-blogger. For some dumb reason I clicked on the link Well the link goes to this blog that has been created by a self aggrandizing, spoiled, say nothing. Quite astonishing. Why would the lady-blogger link to such an atrocious self-advertisement? The question is, are birds of a feather flocking together?

This event upset me. I'm still reading the blog, but I'm full of doubt when I'm doing it. It has ruined it for me. The final question is is the problem with the lady-blogger or with me? Am I able to sift for gold without becoming obsessed with the silt? I shall continue to ponder.

Veteran's Day

This week I learned that my neice, who is a senior in high school, has decided to forego college in order to enlist.

Bad move, bad bad move I say. Now, having opinions about the armed forces is very dicey, it's like having opinions on race relations, it's not discussed in polite company and there are attitudes that you must exude while in public. Like "I support our troops", "thank you for your sacrifice" and do not, DO NOT say anything derogatory about the military or you are sure to get an earful. I tend to ride the middle and just don't think about the military too much.

But when my niece told me her decision, with every firing of my brain synapses I was devising arguments to persuade her otherwise. To me it is a step backward from which she may never recover. All my firing synapses could not come up with an influential reason that she agreed with however.

I'm just going to have to let it go, you can't direct someone elses life. And I'm driving the husband bonkers with my ranting. So I've given myself a self-imposed deadline of Thanksgiving. After that day I will not get myself worked about this, I will not.

But between now and then I'm going to give it a heck of a try!

Sunday Evening

My favorite day of the week has come and is nearly gone by. Baby girl T and I went for a 3 mile walk this afternoon and I can feel it everywhere, she is just as hyper as ever!

Two thoughts came to me this week that I would like to remember:

1. If I could have a dinner party with any persons, present, future or dead, I would invite Thomas Jefferoson, James Madison and Sarah Palin. And I would just sit and listen, maybe toss a few starter questions out.

2. If I could go back in time, I would go back and see if I could get Henry David Thoreau to sleep with me. A one-night stand.

This week day 5

That wonderful day, Friday!, has arrived.

Slept well, no Nyquil, in bed. Ta-da!

This week day 4

Ran out the door this morning before reporting but:

Slept well, Nyquil assisted, in the bed. Last week every night around 3 am I got a glimpse into hell, so I thought I'd document my sleeping to see if any insights came of it. But this week hell has not visited me. I'll take the sleeping well over the insights. There's time for insights later, as I'm sure hell will return.

So running out the door to get to work early because we have a mouse issue. Yesterday a Terminix man came and set mouse-traps all over my cubicle area. I stayed until everyone left and picked up all the traps and bait, put them in a box, taped the box closed and put the box in my overhead cabinet. Then I set a live trap under the drawer where the mouse was spotted. Unfortunately no mouse in the live trap this morning. I was hoping he would be caught and the Terminix man would never come back again. So the story is still un-folding.

Winner takes All

The world is a crazy place.

So many minute details seem so important at the time, and after a few steps back, they are minor. Some even ridiculous.

Yesterday I sent out a report to a customer and today he called and said some of it was wrong. After investigating a couple of minutes I realized I had used some portions from an old, incorrect report and thought it was part of the newer report. I had re-done a majoriy of it before sending it out, but I had thought this older part was still correct, and it wasn't.

What made me more frustrated, was that two versions ago, the part that was now wrong, was right. So I copied from two versions ago and pasted it into the new report, supplanting the one version ago part that was wrong.

If anyone else were to read this would any of this make sense? Probably not, and after I was mad at myself, tried to explain myself (sounding crazier than the above) I just relented and decided, you know what, this just isn't important. Make the revision (all required due to customer error and revisions on their part anyways) and move on. All the excuses and reasonable explanations in the world do not matter. Move on.

And that's the insanity of work. And it's never going to end. Victory one day (if you're lucky) will only be followed up by unrelenting failure and disappointment.

This week day 3

Slept great last night, in the bed, with no Nyquil.

Facebook

I just reactivated my Facebook account.



We'll see how I handle it.

This week day 2

I drank alot of coffee yesterday.

Slept well last night, after a gulp of Nyquil.

Still on the couch.

This week day 1

Going to try to have one cup of coffee a day and that is it.

Slept great last night; I was on the couch.

Housekeeping

Maintaining a clean and tidy home is not one of my strengths. For sure, there are certain tasks I let go much longer than a majority of the house-cleaning population. For instance, earlier this week my uncle gave us a 2 hour warning that he was on his way and would be spending the night in our home. Husband and I scrambled to make the house hospitable, including massive dish cleaning, sweeping up dust-bins full of dog hair and dog food, throwing away piles of accumulated junk mail and receipts, scooping out 3 litter pans and wiping up numerous piles of dried cat vomit. It did all end well, I was content with how the house looked when Uncle arrived and we had a jump start on our cleaning for the weekend.

In older novels house keeping is a time-consuming activity. It is what people, mostly women, do.  I am reading 100 years of Solitude and the wife/mother's housekeeping skills have been described in-depth. In another of G.M's books, Love in the Time of Cholera, the leading woman character's home-making skills are still in my memory even though I read the book years ago. In L'A more of the same; the leading woman's house keeping abilities are described in detail as a way to understand the character, the family and their station in life. In novels that take place in the present, I have not noticed housekeeping having such importance. Either the author must be assuming that knowledge of the woman's skill in this area is not essential to understanding her character or in modern times it is generally assumed that all homes maintain a certain level of cleanliness all by themselves, without effort. This must be the case, since if the character was less than tidy, slovenly, or almost a hoarder, surely that would be used to describe a character that is eccentric, suicidal or a genius.

So what does this mean? For me I am grateful that at some point in time authors appreciated the skills of home-making. They should be appreciated, someone who does it well enhances the well-being of others, and that's a special gift to be able to give.

Getting Older

It's not the wrinkles that bother me; it's the patches of discolorations and growths. And the sagging sucks too. Wrinkles are the least of them.

Today

Getting ready to go to work....in my many tossings last night I realized I am bored; no meetings to attend, no field sites to go on, nothing to structure the day except sitting at the desk.

All this may be good, it may propel me toward something different, and better.

Why Blog Work

The revised blog description and the new look are the result of a discovery. A discovery that work is on my mind often, or shall I call it an ever present fear that I will not be able to pay my mortgage. Consequently work is on my mind often.

It is ironic that I started out determined to articulate how there is more to my mundane existence than a mediocre career. And as it turns out, there isn't anything else.

I'm not all that upset about it.

The Dog's Anus, Not Mine

After realizing my complete impotence at work I got flustered, irritated and dangerously emotional and stomped out of the office after barely shutting down my computer. For all my stomping I'm sure nobody cared. But it does not make any sense! Earlier in the day I was in a perfectly fine, even high-spirited mood. Please could I at least be diagnosed bi-polar or something? Then I would at least have a "condition" to fall back on. However I believe I may just undramatically fall into the "insecure bitch" category. Lovely. Wonderful. What every woman aims to be.

So after making a pit-stop to inspect leaf color at the shore house, and a rapid visit to the vets for a pesky swollen anus that kept waking me up last night, I sat at the dining room table and let my "Next Blog" obsession fly.

In need of ferreting out some losers more insecure and less productive than myself, I kept clicking. An overly ambitious woman-blogger, an environmental consultant who cooks, cleans without using harsh chemicals, repairs bathrooms without use of plumbers and redecorates and documents it with stunning photography sent me lurching. I clicked her profile - 768 profile views, her occupation - "environmental consultant". From here a list of other bloggers that state they too are "environmental consultant's" pops up. Lo and behold I have unearthed more wholesome, beautiful, activists with morals, ambitions and excellent voting records. But this does get me wondering....who else has "Cog" as their profession?

Jack-pot. God bless the Cogs! A whole assortment of mediocrity and gleeful disrespect for the stupid blogger type-casting requests. An entire blog consisting of two entries in 2005, another with just 3 entries in 2007. All entries promising themselves and their non-existent readers to become better, be more entertaining and dazzling and entries listing complaints about mind-numbing work routines and commutes that suck all the creative energy from the blogger. Through their tiny forgotten blog is a port-hole through which I look and can see the familiar...another persons misery.

Melancholy

Ouch.

The theme for today has been melancholy, and it brings with it a pain that settles in the middle of the chest. No amount of activity or positive thinking would shake it. I wonder if it is because I took off Friday or if taking off Friday was the beginning of the melancholy? Not sure, but I'm certain Friday and Sunday are related.

Saturday went to Reedville and usually that leaves me feeling a rather contented version of myself. Remembering my grandmother brings a groundness that no other thought can. That is why I've surrounded myself with her things, unapologetically.

Emailed 'out' this morning and spent the whole day sleeping, reading and watching TV. You know, sometimes I just need to do that, yeah, I said "need". I really only need to do it until noon or so, but at that point it would just be embarrassing to show up at work.

Cold and Gray

It's cold!
Getting dark early!
I'm not ready for winter yet!
Summer is so awesome, can't it last forever?

Past are warm days.
T-shirts and flip-flops aren't enough.
Time for long pants, nylons, sweat-shirts and jackets.
I love light and easy, stuck in the house with heat pump and electric lights sucks!

Rain 1

It has been raining all day. At 8:30pm we heard shots coming from the back of the yard. We looked at each other, squinched up our faces, and began looking around. The dog ran to stand on the couch, and bark out the window.

"It sounds like a B-B gun, but what animal would be out in all this rain?"

Husband got up to look out the sliding glass door, I knelt next to the dog to peer out the window.

I noisily sucked in air and breathed out, "It's the blue tarp neighbor! Look, I see his flashlight on the roof!"

"Oh yeah, he's using a slap-hammer. That's not good, think about it, he's putting more holes in the roof."

"Maybe he's gone through all his other options."

We stared knowingly at each other, each nodding in grim remembrance, thankful that those days are past.

"Remember how bad that was?"

"Yeah, I remember. Poor blue tarp man."

Sunday

Admittedly, the past couple of years, Sundays have been getting better. Traditionally Sunday is my day of self-loathing and pity parties with some anxiety attacks to spice it up.

The trick that did it for me has been touching base with family. Who knew that keeping in contact with the supposed beginnings of my miserable existence would be the panacea to hate-to-be-me Sundays. I write my Dad in jail. His being there has forced me to sit down and write a letter out, it's really nice. Also I try to touch base with my younger cousin or email my baby brother. (Since Facebook is not my thing, it is totally in my court to keep up.) A phone call to an aunt or uncle. People I am extraordinarily fortunate to have in my life, and they have to talk to me, we're related.

In addition to the above, I do laundry. Starting the week with all clean clothes helps things, plus it keeps me busy, plus I don't have to feel that I leave EVERY house-hold chore to the husband, plus I can read a book or watch TV in-between loads but still feel like I'm a productive person.

Don't forget Miss Appalled, if you do, come back and re-read.

Things may not be so bad, or maybe they are

The deplorable work conditions have motivated me to scrutinize my 401k asset allocations and to start (start is a subjective word here) working out. Working out requires further explanation as it is not a logical next step. But my future work endeavors may require physical labor, because my brain has had it.

Anyways I don't know why I get all paranoid about being completely iced out at work. I'm confident I could always find SOMETHING to pay the bills. And I'm not above just about any job. Changing jobs or not working for a while always invigorates me, and thus makes me fresh and impressive to new employers, until they find out I can't stand working. Or, who knows, perhaps I could stumble upon a job I actually like and can stick with for some years. See, this is looking better and better, why do I get so grumpy?

Though getting in better shape is definitely some good insurance...

Apalled at...2

Highway noise

Apalled At....

Big box stores.....Especially WAL-MART
Excessive product packaging
Health insurance
Forcing numerous children, all within one year of age from one another, to spend the whole day together
How little people expect to pay for services rendered by other people

Lacks Social Skills/Organization/ Optimism, Otherwise Good Student

Work has been horrific, truly, horrific. And I don't know what I'm gonna do about it. Keep going in each morning is the only thing I can think. And horrific just in my own little brain, I mean, there's nothing particularly newsworthy going on or anything. But I continue to feel like a freak lone-wolf with completely inadequate social skills and borderline satisfactory work ethics. If I could get away with doing nothing all day and knew nobody would find out, you bet I would do just that. I don't have any quick ideas however, like I said, I'm going to just keep showing up every day and see what happens.

This has been going on for many many years now. I give myself credit, I have moved around and tried new things. I have not sat at the same job for years and years and not done anything about it. The sad thing is, is wherever I go there I am, and that just keeps happening over and over. So where can I go where I'm not there?! The future. Somewhere into the future I'm going to find a place to go where I ain't, and I can't wait to get there.

At the beginning of 2010 I signed up to read 100 books in a year. It was a link on somebody's blog. The year is more than half over and I have read 11. Eleven books, out of 100. The exercise did bring to my attention that I like to read parts of books and then put them down for awhile. Furthermore I read poetry and Buddhist books, but I don't read them cover to cover nor from front to back. I skip around and sometimes re-read sections over and over before moving on. A book not completed cannot be added to the list.

So what about people who do read 100 books in a year. What is going on with them? Do they remember the books, do they skim through them hurdling beyond their mental speed limit? Do they pick easier, thinner books so they can quickly add it to the list? And because of this are they avoiding books like, Anna Karenina and The Brothers Karamazov? This line of thought leads to, what good is it to read 100 books in a year?

Maybe they want to add their name to an impressive looking list on the Internet with a link to their blog. Maybe it is desperateness for attention and to be a part of a group;

I mean, hey, that's totally my reason.

But now I have a list on my blog of the books I have read, and it will be interesting to note what year it is when I hit the 100 mark. Let me put it out there now, July 2014 is my prediction.

Finally I Remembered

I like to stare at stuff. As far as I know this activity does not afford me any special insight. The staring generally occurs after profound productivity demands are put upon me. Often at lunch-time I must leave the confines of the office and venture out alone to stare at some things. Generally the objects of my meditation may include whatever vegetation is available, rocks, people if I’m in an airport or DC, birds are a readily available subject, squirrels and clouds work too. Sometimes just a shadow will do.

Stare at the colors, shape and movement; wonder at the personality and feelings of the other. The allure is the high at seeing objects in the moment, objects that grow and move and have not always been where they are now, and may not be there long. When I leave the solitude and go back to work I keep with me the knowledge that the clouds still move, shadows will morph, rocks may get caught in rain storms, flowers will bloom, fade, and drop seed, -never mind that I am not a witness. The objects I have studied will continue to exist, no matter the grief, regret or angst that awaits me that afternoon.

the 27th of August

Time flies.

The thirtieth of June, twenty-ten

...still working...enjoying the house...falling more in love with husband...communing with the kitties...making out with the dog...looking forward to vacation in two more weeks...sending good vibes to the trampoline kids...trying to figure out why T. keeps peeing in the middle room...planning on cleaning out the garage this weekend...contemplating making a pie...

Target Purchases

Slowly, through numerous deliberate purchases at Target, the house becomes a home.

"Today all my inabilities came back to haunt me. They all coordinated an intervention this morning and by 9:16am I knew what was up."

That was what a wrote the end of last week. It was a hellacious week. The weekend has had some recuperative powers and I like myself again. However it is Monday evening and time to start worrying again about productivity, "Get it done! Make sure it is correct! Can't I work any faster? There's two hot issues, which one should I do first? But I've got all this other stuff too! Get it done! This should only take a minute, why is it taking me so long? Get it done! Make sure it is right! Don't be negligent and sloppy this will cause the customer to become irate! Get it done! Make sure it is right! GET IT DONE!" Yes, it is wonderful being me Monday-Friday. Those are the days I have to keep Imodium and ibuprofen on hand at all hours. And I know, everybody hates work, suck it up because nobody wants to hear you complaining. And I admit I don't like listening to other co-workers complaining, though I try to be sympa- and empa-thetic.

The good news is I"m not going to live forever.

Lack of Ambition

I know of a single mother of three, going to night school to get her masters, and working full-time.

I know a dad, father of twins and husband, working full-time and getting his masters.

A friend who got a masters, started her own business and is fit and thin.

A co-worker, at the age of 42, decides to have her first child and will be working full-time afterward.

Beyond the scope of a list, I am aware of numerous people moving up through the ranks at work and expanding their education credentials.

All this accomplishing around me has been so glaring, like sunlight right in the eye, I am forced to wonder if I am supposed to jump in too. I have wondered, and pondered, and felt guilty and lazy. And today I came out the other side of that egotistical wonderland and rode a harmonious wave of "I'm fine the way I am" attitude. It just washed over me around 10am this morning. I didn't have to meditate about it or anything. You know, sometimes I wonder if all this insight and clarity is just hormones, but whatever, I damn sure felt it. All the reasoning I had been doing with myself about how somebody had to be the bottom 50% to make the top 50% feel better, or my reasoning how everybody else is crazy and is destroying their lives through over goal-setting for themselves and has forgotten how to stop and smell the lilacs only did very little to make me feel better. What it really took was the wash-over, the oh just fuck it all anyway I'm awesome feeling. There's nothing like it, THAT's what I need to bottle, but where the hell does it come from?

Probably hormones. Probably some mundane event, like third day post-ovulation or something. Damn it all to hell, why should life be so uncontrollable, and unreasonable, and nonspiritual? Is the magical formula really just a biorhythm?

Sundays

If I were to kill myself, I would do it on a Sunday.

Don't question - have faith?

When I was going through my buddhist phase, one of the things I struggled with was viewing the head Geshe-person as beyond question. For a beginning believer there are obvious advantages to thinking like this, don't have to worry about figuring out 2,500 years of text, just recognize that the formula delivered to you has been sifted, tested, and tweaked, it works so just follow it. I could go with it for a while, but then I would come up for air and wonder, "How do I make sure I don't participate in a group suicide?"

This season on Dancing with the Stars the judges said the same thing to the stars! Believe in your professional dancer and you will win this competition. Follow the Guru and obstacles will melt for you. Let the experienced one lead and feel peace on the way to success. Hmmm, interesting.

Then the Yahoo front page says one of the 'Secrets to Happiness at Work' is to just go along with your boss.

I'm starting to see a pattern. It's just bizarre to me that this idea has popped up in other areas outside religion. Bizarre.

Update

Work - Not fun
Family - Annoying and should listen to my advice more
Home - Excited for planting season, but afraid I will not find the time to do it and by July I will be all depressed when I look out into the yard at my lackluster performance at landscaping. We'll see.

And I don't have anything to wear.

Sunday evening and I am not happy about having to go to Houston for the next 4 days. It is going to suck. I will miss the hubby, my regular workload will get behind, and I will have to be nice to a bunch of eager dickwads for 4 days.

Work reviews = Bizarro world

The past few weeks have been non-eventful from a spiritual point of view. I've been going backwards and spinning the same threads through my head over and over; backwards and re-think, re-contemplate, re-reason, re-conclude, re-self-assure, re-build-up my fragile, gigantic all-consuming ego.

Shit at and Hit

Whew! I finally got over my obsession with other people's blogs. I haven't scrolled through in a few days now. I suppose my mental breakdown Wednesday that led me to have to call in sick on Thursday was enough to shake me out of it. Made it to work today but it was rough; felt hungover all day and I gotta say, I looked like hell. "Shot at and missed; shit at and hit" is one of my favorite sayings to describe the feeling.

Tonight it sunk in to my brain, all the way in, and it clicked. I have emotional problems. I told the husband immediately as my revelation hit me and he just laughed. I always knew I had problems dealing with stress and maybe some wildly imaginative paranoia's and some serious depressive suicidal thoughts, but I thought, Hey, everybody gets like this from time to time.

After having my co-workers stare me down today and ask me more than a couple times if I'm okay, well, it really became clear that there are some problems lurking in this brain of mine that might not be in other people's minds to the same degree.

Still obsessing with Other People's Blogs

I have continued my research on other people's blogs. My sister says I am just turning my brain into mush. To which I respond, "I am an adult and can do with my brain as I please.". But with all that being said, my inward wish is that my insatiable need to read as many stranger's blogs as I can fit into my available free-time will end soon. It stirs in me jealousy, guilt and other emotions I don't think are good for me. Jealousy and guilt are so addicting though! Maybe if I keep reading I can find someone I think I'm better than! And all that jealousy and guilt can turn into high-mindedness and secure thoughts of how generally good-natured and well-loved I am compared to these rascally souls!

Oh,looey! I will say I did find a few blogs where comparatively I might consider myself more "together" but after a split second of relief for myself and my eternal quest to prove to myself how much better I am than everybody else; I really just felt pained for these people and wished that I could somehow concentrate them into having an easier time with this life. Really, the Momma that woke up late to take her young daughter to her first day of school, the young man who is having a horrible time adjusting to work life, and the young couple whose first born died at the age of 1 1/2 years and had created a blog memorial....Sweet Buddha, it makes me just want to hug them.

So maybe I am done and will go back to focusing on this one single life right here in this slightly over-weight, very out of shape, dry skin with lots of moles and frizzy haired body of mine. The one my mother gave me forty years ago and I have tried to care for since.

Blather

Just came back in from shovelling....again. At least the dog is a little worn out now. Cabin fever has set in in a big way. I'm all ancy but can't focus to actually do anything.

I feel most relieved that there are other types of bloggers out there besides Mormon Mothers. There are soccer lovers and many Danish women bloggers as well. Blogger must group them into categories, and when I was clicking Next Blog>> before I was trapped in a Mormon Mothers eddy.

Other People's Blogs

I just spent some time clicking through blogs; using that Next Blog >> symbol at the top of blogspot blog pages. It makes certain emotions and thoughts come to the forefront.

1. There are alot of white Christian, beautiful, together women out there with excellent writing skills and even better photography skills that are documenting their lives with their equally gorgeous children and husbands via blogger.
2. I am shocked at #1 above as I thought more non-traditional folks would blog.
3. What are all the men doing?
4. What are all the black/latino/asian people doing?
5. Do divorced people blog?
6. If all these Christian people's blogs are so nice and filled with hearts and love and all, why does Christianity seem so heartless in the media? Is this a reflection of the media or me and the way I interpret what I see?
7. Why am I sitting on the couch blogging and watching Judge Judy when I could be using my snowday for more mentally stimulating pursuits?.....hmmm, I know the answer to this one! Because I want to!

It is Snowmageddon!

We shoveled up until 10:30pm last night. Got up at 5am this morning and could not get out the front door. Husband went out through the garage door and started snow blowing to get out of the garage. To take the dog out, I went out the back sliding glass door since snow was not piled up there. I headed around the corner thinking I would help shovel the front steps. But turning the corner around the house meant wind and snow was driving into my face. The dog and I went back into the house via the sliding glass door, the drift is staying at the front door.

Waning daylight

I made it; I made it to Saturday afternoon. Ahhhh. Now I am on "poop patrol". Picked up the doggie terds from the yard while the sun was shining. It is time to focus on the garage. Because, heh heh, the kitties are not always littered trained and the dog sometimes gets lazy. I keep saying "poop patrol" in my head over and over. The repetitition helps me stay focused and not stray to paying bills, or watching TV, or napping, or reading a book, or eating butterscotch krimpets or such. Oh geez, I just thought of blogging, see I'm already not focused. Damn laptop sitting on the couch!

Gotta turn it off

Just got back from a business trip. I find myself replaying every word I spoke while there. Cringing at the memories, but everything I said felt fine at the time. There is a 36 hour expiration date on my words.

Don't slow down; the devil might not even know your there

What I would really like to do now is lay on the couch and drink my Maker's and watch TV. But I have to pack for my trip tomorrow. 7am flight and then one night away from home. Then two more days of work after that, then work Saturday morning with the vet and then, then I can relax for a few hours. Just - keep - going.

Reedville

This weekend I went to my Grandmother's house and cleaned out some things. It is very emotionally draining. I found some really good pictures of her though. I can't wait to put them into an album so I can look through them. The ones I had found previously I put into an album and then every day for weeks I would come home from work and flip through it.

Stuff that really does not matter AT ALL

This week my work strategy has been to do maintain complete perfection on every task while being able to turn on amiable chatter with co-workers within a nano-seconds notice and stay within the physical confines of the office beyond the 8 hours required of me. Well it is only Tuesday and I am exhausted. But I am not having those daydreams of driving off a bridge (or shooting myself in the head; my top two suicide back-up plans)....maybe I'm improving!

The other day I asked the boss why stimulus money is better than regular money and he honestly looked like he wanted to smack me. It was a question I have been really asking myself. I was not trying to be "smart" as a mother would call it. But everybody around the office is always blathering on about stimulus money so I wanted to be in the know. Now I am, and apparently stimulus money IS better than regular money, as viewed by stockholders. So there.

My Favorite Things

Houseplants
Animals
Pictures of animals
Sleep
Sunny cold days in front of a south facing window.

Plant catalogs are starting to come in! Yahoo!

January 4, 2010

Since it is a '10 year and my age is also divisible by 10 this year it seems appropriate to amass a 10 year plan. So far I have: grow a great tomato, visit someplace new every year, and do not alienate family and friends. The "try not to alienate people" is really my way of trying to put into practice the few buddhist concepts of which I am aware. Like compassion, mindfulness, the way of the bodhisattva et al.

Really those three are plenty for me to tackle. We are in the new house, and a great tomato requires plenty of compost, sunshine, and a summer where I do not zone out and stop watering the thing for a month or so. And visiting someplace new every year is a stretch. The past 5 years we had not gone anywhere aside from my sister's. Then we had that vacation to South Dakota and I just loved it. It still sustains me even though it was 4 months ago now. Seeing new sights and thinking about new things was good for me and the husband too. As far as not alienating people...we're talking about an introverted, disorganized chick here. 'Nuff said.