Okay, first of all, the fact that there is something on the internet that actually calculates the stardate is wackadoo. Not surprised, as I’m sure the internet is run by Trekkies, but still. I’m a nerd and even that made me go “daaaaamn.”
I’ll be using my blog today for journalistic purposes. The mind is full of clutter, and I’ve been in the cleaning mood lately, so time to make way for new thoughts. My brain must loathe and adore me all at the same time. The feeling is mutual, brain.
What’s new with me? Well, not really a whole lot, I suppose. Same shit, different day. To paraphrase Dory in “Finding Nemo”: just keepin’ swimmin’. Alright, alright, alright. (that was my Matthew McGigglepantsapotamus impression)
I have been thinking quite a lot about a few things, some I will share, some I will keep locked in the confines of my grey matter, as well, some skeletons need to be kept in the closet. It builds character and intrigue.
I’ve been in and out of a weird limbo since March. Why March? Well, March 8th was supposed to be Jason and I’s 8 year wedding anniversary. It wasn’t fun, being reminded of a failed marriage. As in, “hey, eight years ago today, you made vows to remain faithful, to love, honor, and cherish another human being until death parted you.” This is where reading the fine print could have come in handy: “or until both of you grow far apart, begin leading separate lives, and ultimately cheat on each other.” Such is life, I guess.
March was also when I began hanging around…Ray.
I hate to say his name. I hate to type his name. You know in the movie “Young Frankenstein” whenever someone would say Frau Blucher’s name and horses would neigh? Kind of the same deal with me and the “R Word,” but I envision all the worst plagues of the Bible happening at once.
Anyway, as I said above, in a weird limbo-ish state since March, and it’s only getting worse. Why? July 12 approaches. July 12 is The Day.
I am not looking forward to July 12. In fact, if we can kind of skip the 12th this year, that’d be all sorts of neat.
I know, I know, it’s not healthy to try to repress bad memories, for only when we confront them, can we learn from them, but dude, still.
I’ve been replaying that day over and over in my mind for two weeks now. I’ve been drinking more these past weeks, as well. I am fully aware of why I am doing this, and realize it’s a self-destructive path, blah blah blah, my therapy paid off, but as long as I’m fully cognizant of said behaviors, I think I’m okay. Just “acting out,” so to speak. Which is better? Being aware of your actions and what is causing them, or being in denial and saying nothing is wrong? Hmm? So while my mom is surely gone into super maternal mode right now, and will probably send me a concerned email (thanks, Mom), she shouldn’t worry. As the saying goes, “this too, shall pass.” And it will. I just need to dive into all these negative feelings, all the bad juju, and then poof. Over and done with. On to my next crisis, which lucky for me, isn’t until August, when I begin thinking about my stunt in the looney bin and alcohol rehab.
Heh. I’m planning my meltdowns. How proactive of me.
Then there’s the stuff I wont talk about. Sorry, but I won’t.
Thinking of moving. I always think about moving, though. I m also a chicken shit, and all talk, but no action. I hate that about myself. Jason’s complacency has rubbed off on me. Not cool. I know I need a change, but keep finding excuses to not go forward. Not enough money, it isn’t the right time, etc. All cop-outs, if you ask me. I don’t know when I became a coward, but I need to find me some courage real quick.
As I mentioned before, this July 12 business has gotten me all worked up and I’m finding it very hard to be excited about my approaching thirtieth birthday. Like, big deal. Another year. Weeeee. I should be excited for it. Thirty! Three decades! I made it! Go E!
Alright. I’m done now.