Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Up and Down on the Mini-Coaster!!
First off, even though nobody reads this, I wish Tbogg and extended Cali family well. Just remember, stuff is stuff, as long as family is safe, stuff can be replaced.
My life is the same. Birthday sucked. BIG. But now I'm 48 and trying to get used to it. I still feel like life has passed me by. I had always thought I was meant for something, something big. What was that?! Cashiering at Wal-Mart (not that there's anything wrong with that, I actually LIKE the job)? I still feel like I'm meant to do (be) something else. What are the things I'm passionate about? Well, reading to children. And not crap (which is my one gripe about my store). And don't act like reading's a chore. If you don't like to read, why should your children. Find something you'll both enjoy, then reading it over and over won't be a hassle. And read different books and stories, a real variety. I read The Hobbit to my son when he was in First Grade, it took about 3 months (and first he griped that the book had to have pictures, then when I found a book with pictures, he griped that the pictures were wrong). And I still have the, like, 5 stories whirling around in my head. I try to put them on paper, and they sound stilted and trite. I don't have a clue as to how to get them out of my head the way they are in my head. Does that make sense? And I'd love to travel, but that requires money.
The Hubby. sigh. Sincerely needs counseling, but again requires money. I didn't know self-pity could reach such depths. And I just cannot relate. I don't know anybody with arthritis as bad as him. I wish I did. Especially if they're still happy. Knock some sense into the Hubby.
I don't feel to bad today. I never feel great. My life isn't too bad. I just wish I had something fulfilling to do. I am knitting again - an (well at some future point) afghan made of mitred corner squares, Pretty and easy. Keeping myself into it has been a chore.
And let's just not talk about the M-in-L. I feel okay today.
My life is the same. Birthday sucked. BIG. But now I'm 48 and trying to get used to it. I still feel like life has passed me by. I had always thought I was meant for something, something big. What was that?! Cashiering at Wal-Mart (not that there's anything wrong with that, I actually LIKE the job)? I still feel like I'm meant to do (be) something else. What are the things I'm passionate about? Well, reading to children. And not crap (which is my one gripe about my store). And don't act like reading's a chore. If you don't like to read, why should your children. Find something you'll both enjoy, then reading it over and over won't be a hassle. And read different books and stories, a real variety. I read The Hobbit to my son when he was in First Grade, it took about 3 months (and first he griped that the book had to have pictures, then when I found a book with pictures, he griped that the pictures were wrong). And I still have the, like, 5 stories whirling around in my head. I try to put them on paper, and they sound stilted and trite. I don't have a clue as to how to get them out of my head the way they are in my head. Does that make sense? And I'd love to travel, but that requires money.
The Hubby. sigh. Sincerely needs counseling, but again requires money. I didn't know self-pity could reach such depths. And I just cannot relate. I don't know anybody with arthritis as bad as him. I wish I did. Especially if they're still happy. Knock some sense into the Hubby.
I don't feel to bad today. I never feel great. My life isn't too bad. I just wish I had something fulfilling to do. I am knitting again - an (well at some future point) afghan made of mitred corner squares, Pretty and easy. Keeping myself into it has been a chore.
And let's just not talk about the M-in-L. I feel okay today.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
The Hubby alternates between wanting to die and having no reason to live.
What do I do? What CAN I do?
This is making me sick.
Oh, wait, ha ha, that was a joke, right? I don't have insurance yet. I can't get sick.
He's going to the orthopedic guy next Wednesday to get the shoulder shots that don't work. I think he should just go ahead and the scraping done - it may not be forever, but will last longer than the shot. Arthritis really sucks.
Oh the M-in-L says she's going to pay for a new engine for the Tahoe. yay. One more thing to be beholden to her.
What do I do? What CAN I do?
This is making me sick.
Oh, wait, ha ha, that was a joke, right? I don't have insurance yet. I can't get sick.
He's going to the orthopedic guy next Wednesday to get the shoulder shots that don't work. I think he should just go ahead and the scraping done - it may not be forever, but will last longer than the shot. Arthritis really sucks.
Oh the M-in-L says she's going to pay for a new engine for the Tahoe. yay. One more thing to be beholden to her.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Tired, So Tired, So Damn Tired
New news, (I think): Stepson Jason lost his job at a wireless companies call center (not counting when his attendance fell off).
My husband's car needs a new engine. Of course, I'd 've thought a, like, 3-year-old, Jasper engine with less that 25,000 miles on it would still be pretty new. I'd never consider the noise his '95 Tahoe was making was his NEW engine going out! Unfortately, the warranty (only for a year or 16,000 miles) expired last year. but, again, I'd 've thought that the company would stand behind it's product and would want to know why an engine went out so soon when it was babied (hell, the Hubby now drives like an old man), but no. And that's on top of needing his four-wheel-drive fixed.
I just got 2 of the 4 new tires I need. Of course, they're just going to go bad as fast as the previous tires (none orginal), since I need struts, and possibly another alignment.
Since I just got paid, we got a tire for Jimmy's old Honda (an '86 or so Accord that runs better than my '02 Kia), so the Hubby's going to bring the tag up to date and get insurance for it and drive it until the money falls from the sky to fix the Tahoe. Oh and it needs a power steering pump and a radio (the latter stolen at Ouail Springs Mall). But, I guess, those are quibbles.
I just don't know what to say about the hubby. He's in pain. He's suicidal. To me, he's done more in his life than I've even thought about. To him, it's all failure in the past, and pain in the future. I'm at my wit's end. I wish money would fall out of the sky. I wish we would win the powerball.
Oh, and I'm behind on my car payment by $905.
I guess I could use some of that money falling out of the sky.
My husband's car needs a new engine. Of course, I'd 've thought a, like, 3-year-old, Jasper engine with less that 25,000 miles on it would still be pretty new. I'd never consider the noise his '95 Tahoe was making was his NEW engine going out! Unfortately, the warranty (only for a year or 16,000 miles) expired last year. but, again, I'd 've thought that the company would stand behind it's product and would want to know why an engine went out so soon when it was babied (hell, the Hubby now drives like an old man), but no. And that's on top of needing his four-wheel-drive fixed.
I just got 2 of the 4 new tires I need. Of course, they're just going to go bad as fast as the previous tires (none orginal), since I need struts, and possibly another alignment.
Since I just got paid, we got a tire for Jimmy's old Honda (an '86 or so Accord that runs better than my '02 Kia), so the Hubby's going to bring the tag up to date and get insurance for it and drive it until the money falls from the sky to fix the Tahoe. Oh and it needs a power steering pump and a radio (the latter stolen at Ouail Springs Mall). But, I guess, those are quibbles.
I just don't know what to say about the hubby. He's in pain. He's suicidal. To me, he's done more in his life than I've even thought about. To him, it's all failure in the past, and pain in the future. I'm at my wit's end. I wish money would fall out of the sky. I wish we would win the powerball.
Oh, and I'm behind on my car payment by $905.
I guess I could use some of that money falling out of the sky.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Today is a down day. In a month, I'll turn 48 (ik), and don't feel like I've accomplished anything. There are things I wanted to do and things I wanted to see and it seems all of it costs money. I'd like slightly more hours than they're giving me at work, but lack the nerve (resolve?) to ask for it.
Politics seems to be rearing it's ugly head at home. Me and the Hubby are 180 degrees apart.
sigh.
Politics seems to be rearing it's ugly head at home. Me and the Hubby are 180 degrees apart.
sigh.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
SCREAM!! And Scream Again
My stepson got fired today from the Cingular job he's had for a few years. This sent Randy down the pipes, since he had phone service on his son's employee plan. Then, of course, he goes over EVERY concievable wrong EVER in his life. God is against him... He ought to die....
He needs to be in the hospital. And NOT because of his bones! I'm tired of it. It's not my fault. There's nothing I can do about it. I just have to endure it, because nobody listens to me. I'm the moron of the family. Granted, Medicare pays jacks**t on mental health, but then what healthcare plan, insurance, etc. DOES?!
Things have to change for the better.
PLEASE?!
Oh, and in an open letter to Owen Wilson:
Dear Mr. Wilson,
Heard about your hospital stay (who hasn't). But I think you should have been in the Psych Ward with the rest of the public, instead of locked away in a cushy, private room. Please, hear me out. In September, 2005, I had my own "suicidal gesture", and spent 4-5 days in St. Anthony's Hospital, downtown OKC. It was an eye opener. Of course at first my thought was, "These guys are CRAZY!" Then, as I got to know them, I realized their problems weren't that different from mine. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel alone.
Your family certainly cares for you, but if they've never had any type of mental illness, they just don't know how to react. Then you may end up feeling bad for feeling bad. Been there, done that - not good. Also not good - illicit drugs to make you feel better. Take the meds your doctor prescribes, if it doesn't work, try another one. I've been on lots of different anti-depressants. I'm not on one right now (and probably should be), but I won't be eligible for health insurance until the end of next month.
You need to know you're not alone.
You are not alone.
Take Care,
Ms. Not Together
He needs to be in the hospital. And NOT because of his bones! I'm tired of it. It's not my fault. There's nothing I can do about it. I just have to endure it, because nobody listens to me. I'm the moron of the family. Granted, Medicare pays jacks**t on mental health, but then what healthcare plan, insurance, etc. DOES?!
Things have to change for the better.
PLEASE?!
Oh, and in an open letter to Owen Wilson:
Dear Mr. Wilson,
Heard about your hospital stay (who hasn't). But I think you should have been in the Psych Ward with the rest of the public, instead of locked away in a cushy, private room. Please, hear me out. In September, 2005, I had my own "suicidal gesture", and spent 4-5 days in St. Anthony's Hospital, downtown OKC. It was an eye opener. Of course at first my thought was, "These guys are CRAZY!" Then, as I got to know them, I realized their problems weren't that different from mine. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel alone.
Your family certainly cares for you, but if they've never had any type of mental illness, they just don't know how to react. Then you may end up feeling bad for feeling bad. Been there, done that - not good. Also not good - illicit drugs to make you feel better. Take the meds your doctor prescribes, if it doesn't work, try another one. I've been on lots of different anti-depressants. I'm not on one right now (and probably should be), but I won't be eligible for health insurance until the end of next month.
You need to know you're not alone.
You are not alone.
Take Care,
Ms. Not Together
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
I want to MOVE
Away. From. Here.
I'm tired of MethLab Estates. I'm tired of dogs running loose.
Why? The proverbial straw?
Monday Morning. Of course Bubba starts moaning (mooing?) to go potty. I get up at around 5:30 am and take the dogs, Bubba, Cletus and Ziva out to potty and let out the cat, Whiskers (stupid name, but I got him about 10 years ago a year old and already named). Whiskers stays outside.
Sometime around or after 6:00 am I hear Whiskers screaming. I run outside but I don't see him right away. I DO see a medium sized dog, and I'm pretty sure it was the brindle pit bull from across the street running away. All of a sudden, Whiskers falls out of a tree. Not bleeding, but spitty and with obvious internal injuries. It looks like it's just a back leg. I think (hope) he'll recover. I'm sure he'll be ok.
But damn! My beloved Wickers!! Attacked in his own yard! MY OWN YARD!! And if I had gotten out there sooner, it could've been me! I called the sheriff (at the Hubby's insistence), but was told since we live outside of town and there's no law against loose dogs, and no county animal control there was nothing he could do. He did advise if we were threaten by any animal in our own yard -- shoot it.
So this is your warning. Your stupid-ass loose dog, the one you have no control over, the one not spade or neutered, the one without any vaccinations - comes into my yard again, threatening me and mine - it's DEAD!! YOU HEAR ME!!
Another reason I'm sick of not having money.
I'm tired of MethLab Estates. I'm tired of dogs running loose.
Why? The proverbial straw?
Monday Morning. Of course Bubba starts moaning (mooing?) to go potty. I get up at around 5:30 am and take the dogs, Bubba, Cletus and Ziva out to potty and let out the cat, Whiskers (stupid name, but I got him about 10 years ago a year old and already named). Whiskers stays outside.
Sometime around or after 6:00 am I hear Whiskers screaming. I run outside but I don't see him right away. I DO see a medium sized dog, and I'm pretty sure it was the brindle pit bull from across the street running away. All of a sudden, Whiskers falls out of a tree. Not bleeding, but spitty and with obvious internal injuries. It looks like it's just a back leg. I think (hope) he'll recover. I'm sure he'll be ok.
But damn! My beloved Wickers!! Attacked in his own yard! MY OWN YARD!! And if I had gotten out there sooner, it could've been me! I called the sheriff (at the Hubby's insistence), but was told since we live outside of town and there's no law against loose dogs, and no county animal control there was nothing he could do. He did advise if we were threaten by any animal in our own yard -- shoot it.
So this is your warning. Your stupid-ass loose dog, the one you have no control over, the one not spade or neutered, the one without any vaccinations - comes into my yard again, threatening me and mine - it's DEAD!! YOU HEAR ME!!
Another reason I'm sick of not having money.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Life Lessons You Never Think You Have to Say
Don't go out without pants or shoes. Picking up the paper in your underwear is (well, gross enough) one thing, but getting groceries at the store is another. If someone needs to tell you to put on clothes before you go out, maybe you shouldn't go out.
Checking out customers on Monday, close to the end of my day. I get an older dude (my age or older), reminding me roughly of David Crosby. Wearing a long, dirty, white t-shirt. First I notice he's not wearing shoes (disgusting!), then (scanning up, I guess) I notice he's NOT WEARING PANTS!! This is one of those times where being quiet and introverted comes in handy. I finish checking him out, I give him his bags, I may have told him to have a good day.
Then I (quietly) freaked out. A Supervisor tried to tell me they were bike shorts. No Way!!! I know the difference. Thank God my day was almost over.
Checking out customers on Monday, close to the end of my day. I get an older dude (my age or older), reminding me roughly of David Crosby. Wearing a long, dirty, white t-shirt. First I notice he's not wearing shoes (disgusting!), then (scanning up, I guess) I notice he's NOT WEARING PANTS!! This is one of those times where being quiet and introverted comes in handy. I finish checking him out, I give him his bags, I may have told him to have a good day.
Then I (quietly) freaked out. A Supervisor tried to tell me they were bike shorts. No Way!!! I know the difference. Thank God my day was almost over.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Needed to Vent
Today I feel kind of down. I know, it's kind of a same ol', same ol' sort of thing. It gets me thinking about the books I'd like to write, but probably won't because I'm not talented enough. Having the stories in your head just isn't enough.
I'd like to be able to pay off my car (hell, make a car payment even!). I'd like me and the Hubby to travel while he can still move (his orthopedic doctors say he needs both hips replaced and bone spurs scraped off his shoulders). I'd just like not to worry all the time. But the main things I worry about are the Hubby and Money. I keep thinking if we could just do things together, travel, whatever, then maybe that'll take his mind off his pain and his future. That requires money. I think I'll be able to make a car payment this week (I get paid), but I'm about 2 months behind and (possibly irrationally) freak out with every truck noise that passes.
It's like all I do is work. Work, go home, work, go home, work, go home, maybe get on the internet (which, also, isn't as much fun as it used to be), watch tv (no cable, no dish), sleep, repeat. It's killing me. This just doesn't feel like a life.
Thank you for letting me vent. Oh, who am I kidding?! Nobody reads this!
I'd like to be able to pay off my car (hell, make a car payment even!). I'd like me and the Hubby to travel while he can still move (his orthopedic doctors say he needs both hips replaced and bone spurs scraped off his shoulders). I'd just like not to worry all the time. But the main things I worry about are the Hubby and Money. I keep thinking if we could just do things together, travel, whatever, then maybe that'll take his mind off his pain and his future. That requires money. I think I'll be able to make a car payment this week (I get paid), but I'm about 2 months behind and (possibly irrationally) freak out with every truck noise that passes.
It's like all I do is work. Work, go home, work, go home, work, go home, maybe get on the internet (which, also, isn't as much fun as it used to be), watch tv (no cable, no dish), sleep, repeat. It's killing me. This just doesn't feel like a life.
Thank you for letting me vent. Oh, who am I kidding?! Nobody reads this!
Monday, July 23, 2007
I Just Finished...
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
I cried.
I cried and cried and cried.
OMG, what a GREAT book!!!
I cried.
I cried and cried and cried.
OMG, what a GREAT book!!!
Friday, July 20, 2007
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Once again, I'm at the point where I feel competent, alive and ready at work, but worthless and useless at home.
Geez, how I hate myself! I know, it's all I write about, but it kind of consumes me. I guess that's the way depression is.
You know depression is treatable?
Well, duh! You know I don't have either available money or health insurance?!
Right now, I don't feel there is really, REALLY a point to me being alive!!
Geez, how I hate myself! I know, it's all I write about, but it kind of consumes me. I guess that's the way depression is.
You know depression is treatable?
Well, duh! You know I don't have either available money or health insurance?!
Right now, I don't feel there is really, REALLY a point to me being alive!!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
First, Things You Shouldn't Have to Say to Your Dog:
Ziva! Put down that rabbit rearend!! (and yes, it was JUST the back half of the dearly departed bunny)
Second, I'd call it an update, but nothing's really changed:
I'm still working at Wally World, actually kind of like it (weird!), not looking for anything better, higher paying, more fulfilling, etc. I'm done.
Maybe someday I'll actually write one of my 5 or so stories.
The shot's Randy had in his shoulders are no longer working - though he can't have any more for another two months. They're suggesting, well I don't know what it's called, but it amounts to scraping the bone spurs off his shoulders. Oh, and now they've seen xrays of his hips, and are suggesting replacements (for both! but not at the same time). To stave off replacements he went to Mercy today and got steroid shots in both hips. We'll see if that does anything. He's still really down, feeling there's not much life to live. I don't blame him - constant pain, arthritis in every part of his skeleton. And not enough money to do things that might take his mind off of his pain.
My son is now on his ship, or at least at the base where his ship is. We had a good time while he was here. Although, I did learn he smokes. IKK!! Right now just very occasionally. But my mother smoked like a chimney and it eventually killed her, so NO, I don't like it. My wanting my son to be his own man, and not beholding to me or his dad, has come back to bite me on the rear. Oh well, hopefully he'll come to his senses soon enough. Other than that, he's a great guy! Took me out several times! Bought me stuff! Wow! just Wow!
Anyway, I think animals want to potty, so I'll be off. I can't be here often, but I'm not giving up.
Ziva! Put down that rabbit rearend!! (and yes, it was JUST the back half of the dearly departed bunny)
Second, I'd call it an update, but nothing's really changed:
I'm still working at Wally World, actually kind of like it (weird!), not looking for anything better, higher paying, more fulfilling, etc. I'm done.
Maybe someday I'll actually write one of my 5 or so stories.
The shot's Randy had in his shoulders are no longer working - though he can't have any more for another two months. They're suggesting, well I don't know what it's called, but it amounts to scraping the bone spurs off his shoulders. Oh, and now they've seen xrays of his hips, and are suggesting replacements (for both! but not at the same time). To stave off replacements he went to Mercy today and got steroid shots in both hips. We'll see if that does anything. He's still really down, feeling there's not much life to live. I don't blame him - constant pain, arthritis in every part of his skeleton. And not enough money to do things that might take his mind off of his pain.
My son is now on his ship, or at least at the base where his ship is. We had a good time while he was here. Although, I did learn he smokes. IKK!! Right now just very occasionally. But my mother smoked like a chimney and it eventually killed her, so NO, I don't like it. My wanting my son to be his own man, and not beholding to me or his dad, has come back to bite me on the rear. Oh well, hopefully he'll come to his senses soon enough. Other than that, he's a great guy! Took me out several times! Bought me stuff! Wow! just Wow!
Anyway, I think animals want to potty, so I'll be off. I can't be here often, but I'm not giving up.
Friday, June 08, 2007
I tanked at yet another interview, for a job that paid more money, but I wasn't sure I wanted anyway. But see, whether I wanted it or not isn't the point. The point is I suck at interviews. The point is I wanted to be the one to tell them "no".
I'm going to be at WalMart forever. And, yeah, I know that's not necessarily a bad thing. But I'm not going to have time or money to travel. My son's out on leave now, before going to his ship in Norfolk, VA. But it's actual duty station is in Japan. So, unless things change for the better, the month I have with him now, is going to be it for a long, long time.
Oh, the M-in-L took over the checkbook when I boogered it up (again). Sigh. That's me. An incompetent moron.
How did I get such a great son?
I'm going to be at WalMart forever. And, yeah, I know that's not necessarily a bad thing. But I'm not going to have time or money to travel. My son's out on leave now, before going to his ship in Norfolk, VA. But it's actual duty station is in Japan. So, unless things change for the better, the month I have with him now, is going to be it for a long, long time.
Oh, the M-in-L took over the checkbook when I boogered it up (again). Sigh. That's me. An incompetent moron.
How did I get such a great son?
Monday, May 28, 2007
Cashiering at WalMart hasn't been that bad. I've almost gotten used to standing all day. I've got another interview coming up, also.
So I should be happy. So why aren't I? I'm so anxious I feel like I could explode. And sad, too. Not a suicidal depression, just a sort-of life-is-worthless-I-am-worthless kind of thing.
I think it's money. I still can't bring my utilities and car payment up to date. Well, no reason to rehash old problems.
So I should be happy. So why aren't I? I'm so anxious I feel like I could explode. And sad, too. Not a suicidal depression, just a sort-of life-is-worthless-I-am-worthless kind of thing.
I think it's money. I still can't bring my utilities and car payment up to date. Well, no reason to rehash old problems.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Gainfully, If Not Meaningfully, Employed
Yes, I am now in the ranks of the employed. I am a cashier-in-training at a Wal-mart. Hopefully I can get my bills caught up. I'd still rather win the lottery.
It seems odd to me that in my entire life, I've either gone sideways or backwards job-wise (I can't say I've ever had a career). I get to $12.75 an hour, and somehow my life needs a correction (divorce, depression, getting canned), and I have to start over. All those job interviews I went on, and all I had to do was go to walmart.com. Freaky.
In other news, my son has a really great post on religion over at his myspace space, but this computer at the library is stupid, and I couldn't copy the link - so go check out jimtheplatypus at myspace.
Also, my husband's arthritis has turned his shoulder into (what?!) crap. He's gotten yet another pain pill, and a referral to an orthopedic doctor. SIGH. I wish there was something I could do. I wish it wasn't his entire body. At this point, it seems like only death will ease his pain. That's just not fair.
It seems odd to me that in my entire life, I've either gone sideways or backwards job-wise (I can't say I've ever had a career). I get to $12.75 an hour, and somehow my life needs a correction (divorce, depression, getting canned), and I have to start over. All those job interviews I went on, and all I had to do was go to walmart.com. Freaky.
In other news, my son has a really great post on religion over at his myspace space, but this computer at the library is stupid, and I couldn't copy the link - so go check out jimtheplatypus at myspace.
Also, my husband's arthritis has turned his shoulder into (what?!) crap. He's gotten yet another pain pill, and a referral to an orthopedic doctor. SIGH. I wish there was something I could do. I wish it wasn't his entire body. At this point, it seems like only death will ease his pain. That's just not fair.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Kinda Anticlimatic
I would like to do so much with this blog, but right now I'm so wrapped up in myself, it's hard to think straight. I'm still unemployed. I keep going on interviews that lead to nothing. It seems like the Hubby hates me now. He says suicide would be stupid, but then critizes what I do, or don't do. I can't change who I am. I tell him I can't change. He doesn't really give me an answer how it can be stupid when I'm pretty useless as is.
Whether I'm suicidal or not kind of depends on the hour. I don't feel like I'm worthwhile. Nobody needs me. Right now it seems like I could win the lottery just as easily as get a job.
Right now I'm writing because I need to write, not because I have anything to say (has that ever stopped me?). I've got so much in my head, but I can't seem to get much out of it.
I think alot about it (suicide, that is). How to do it. Where to do it. What kind of impact it would make (not much). Even down to funeral expenses (donate my body to science, and there won't be any). But even without suicide, I would prefer to leave my body to science. Funerals are creepy.
Right now, money-wise, I'm ok, my son has both sent me some money and brought my car payment up to date. He's a great kid. I'm taking credit for that.
Well, at the library, so off for now
Whether I'm suicidal or not kind of depends on the hour. I don't feel like I'm worthwhile. Nobody needs me. Right now it seems like I could win the lottery just as easily as get a job.
Right now I'm writing because I need to write, not because I have anything to say (has that ever stopped me?). I've got so much in my head, but I can't seem to get much out of it.
I think alot about it (suicide, that is). How to do it. Where to do it. What kind of impact it would make (not much). Even down to funeral expenses (donate my body to science, and there won't be any). But even without suicide, I would prefer to leave my body to science. Funerals are creepy.
Right now, money-wise, I'm ok, my son has both sent me some money and brought my car payment up to date. He's a great kid. I'm taking credit for that.
Well, at the library, so off for now
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
...And Back Down, Again
No, I did not get the position that made me so incredibly happy. But, instead of just being turned down, they didn't fill the position. Yes, I crashed. Life is not worth living, wish I was dead, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I am back up to a not nearly happy, but not technically sad point of view.
Go to Cingular tomorrow. Since I've interviewed with them twice in the past, it doesn't bode well. They tend to ask inane questions I just can't answer. Oh well, one more (maybe two) iron in the fire before I give completely up.
Go to Cingular tomorrow. Since I've interviewed with them twice in the past, it doesn't bode well. They tend to ask inane questions I just can't answer. Oh well, one more (maybe two) iron in the fire before I give completely up.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Shout Out!
I had a really great interview today at the Physician Manpower Training Commision! I went in almost (ALMOST? right) panicking, and came out confident the job was mine. So, I have to give a SHOUT OUT to my interviewers, Michelle and Charlotte!! YOU GO, GIRLS!!!
God willing, I will either have won the lottery or be gainfully employed within the next 2 weeks!
See? This is me trying to turn my back on my giant-ass negative side.
God willing, I will either have won the lottery or be gainfully employed within the next 2 weeks!
See? This is me trying to turn my back on my giant-ass negative side.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Still Alive...
Oh, yeah, post number 397.
Haven't heard anything from the interview last week. Yeah, like I am. I've heard from some insurance benefits call center that may have a temporary Customer Svc position opening in June or July.
Sigh.
I think I need to talk to somebody. Because I don't want to work. No, no, no that's not quite true. I want to work on my own terms. Something that fits just me. Something where I can take off and travel (money willing). Something where I can be by the Hubby's side anytime he needs me, or I can go to doctors or therapists anytime I need to. Something fulfilling. Something I won't get sick of in six months, or make my skin crawl in a year, or do anything to disconnect (oh, like surfing the web at work when you're not supposed to, although everybody did it), no matter the cost. Kind of o-t, I've noticed my total cholesterol (God Bless the OBI!!) has gone down, still elevated though, since I got fired.
I'd still like to be someone like Erma Bombeck, newspaper columnist, used to be on Good Morning America - how cool would that be?! I could do it, too!! I know I can. I still say I could be the fat chick on the View. I could be a beacon for the fat, the depressed, the shy and the social phobics, the people without a voice who, on there own volition, fade into the background terrified of the outside world and the thought of interacting in it. Definately not easy, but I could do it. I ought to do it!
Sigh.
I just don't know how. You know, Good morning America or Dr. Phil could just come here, or call me, or email me and say, "Hey! How would you like to be on TV?!" (not unlike the ancient commercial: "Hey! How would you like a nice Hawaiian Punch?") SURE!!
I'd like to go back to college (though, geez, can we leave the math stuff alone?), but again, lack of money rears its ugly head. No, I won't do loans I can't pay off.
I mean, I don't necessarily want a degree (though, yeah, cool), I want to learn for the sake of learning. I want to look back and say, "Well, duh, I already knew that!" Because, sometimes, we have to be shown just what we're capable of.
Haven't heard anything from the interview last week. Yeah, like I am. I've heard from some insurance benefits call center that may have a temporary Customer Svc position opening in June or July.
Sigh.
I think I need to talk to somebody. Because I don't want to work. No, no, no that's not quite true. I want to work on my own terms. Something that fits just me. Something where I can take off and travel (money willing). Something where I can be by the Hubby's side anytime he needs me, or I can go to doctors or therapists anytime I need to. Something fulfilling. Something I won't get sick of in six months, or make my skin crawl in a year, or do anything to disconnect (oh, like surfing the web at work when you're not supposed to, although everybody did it), no matter the cost. Kind of o-t, I've noticed my total cholesterol (God Bless the OBI!!) has gone down, still elevated though, since I got fired.
I'd still like to be someone like Erma Bombeck, newspaper columnist, used to be on Good Morning America - how cool would that be?! I could do it, too!! I know I can. I still say I could be the fat chick on the View. I could be a beacon for the fat, the depressed, the shy and the social phobics, the people without a voice who, on there own volition, fade into the background terrified of the outside world and the thought of interacting in it. Definately not easy, but I could do it. I ought to do it!
Sigh.
I just don't know how. You know, Good morning America or Dr. Phil could just come here, or call me, or email me and say, "Hey! How would you like to be on TV?!" (not unlike the ancient commercial: "Hey! How would you like a nice Hawaiian Punch?") SURE!!
I'd like to go back to college (though, geez, can we leave the math stuff alone?), but again, lack of money rears its ugly head. No, I won't do loans I can't pay off.
I mean, I don't necessarily want a degree (though, yeah, cool), I want to learn for the sake of learning. I want to look back and say, "Well, duh, I already knew that!" Because, sometimes, we have to be shown just what we're capable of.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
No. 396 or Call Me a Melodramatist
Yeah, I'm still here. I still don't see a point to living. I still think I'm unemployable, and would rather win the lottery. But, for now at least, I have stepped back just a little from the brink of suicide.
I'm not going to apologize for what I wrote. It's what I felt at the time. No, sometimes this blog is all that's keeping me here. I don't have many friends, those I do have I don't want to bother with my problems. And even though they loom large in me, my problems are pretty minor in the scheme of things. So I write, well, spew it all out here. And I appreciate those who come back and read my drivel time after time.
I read this in yesterday's NY Times:
Washington
Proposals for Mental Health Parity Pit a Father’s Pragmatism Against a Son’s Passion
By ROBERT PEAR
Published: March 19, 2007
Two Kennedys are facing off over competing versions of legislation that would provide more generous benefits to people with mental illness.
I've been hospitalized once (an interesting 4 - maybe 5 - days back in the fall of 2005), and have been in outpatient programs twice (I prefer the ST Anthony's Share program to the Integris program - even though I prefered Integris' Dr. Chakraburty to the psychiatrists of ST Anthony's) and each time I've had to battle my insurance. Every time I've had to change my insurance, I've had to make sure I got the plan with the best mental health coverage, which still tended to be a joke. How many times I can see a therapist? Is the therapist/psychiatrist I'm already seeing covered? Are the meds they're giving me covered? Or what do I have to settle for? Will the med I had to settle for DO any damn thing for me? And why can't the copay be the same as my PCP?
So YAY!! YAY to the Kennedys!! I would prefer Kennedy fils plan to Kennedy pere's, but I'll accept either. But what am I saying?! I'm unemployed, uninsured, and SOL right now. What I wouldn't do for some Lexapro. And a job. But I'd prefer to win the lottery and not have to worry about any of that.
I'm not going to apologize for what I wrote. It's what I felt at the time. No, sometimes this blog is all that's keeping me here. I don't have many friends, those I do have I don't want to bother with my problems. And even though they loom large in me, my problems are pretty minor in the scheme of things. So I write, well, spew it all out here. And I appreciate those who come back and read my drivel time after time.
I read this in yesterday's NY Times:
Washington
Proposals for Mental Health Parity Pit a Father’s Pragmatism Against a Son’s Passion
By ROBERT PEAR
Published: March 19, 2007
Two Kennedys are facing off over competing versions of legislation that would provide more generous benefits to people with mental illness.
I've been hospitalized once (an interesting 4 - maybe 5 - days back in the fall of 2005), and have been in outpatient programs twice (I prefer the ST Anthony's Share program to the Integris program - even though I prefered Integris' Dr. Chakraburty to the psychiatrists of ST Anthony's) and each time I've had to battle my insurance. Every time I've had to change my insurance, I've had to make sure I got the plan with the best mental health coverage, which still tended to be a joke. How many times I can see a therapist? Is the therapist/psychiatrist I'm already seeing covered? Are the meds they're giving me covered? Or what do I have to settle for? Will the med I had to settle for DO any damn thing for me? And why can't the copay be the same as my PCP?
So YAY!! YAY to the Kennedys!! I would prefer Kennedy fils plan to Kennedy pere's, but I'll accept either. But what am I saying?! I'm unemployed, uninsured, and SOL right now. What I wouldn't do for some Lexapro. And a job. But I'd prefer to win the lottery and not have to worry about any of that.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
No. 395
I've been thinking about what to write for post no. 400. I've been thinking it should be a "State of My State" message. But I'm not sure I'm going to be around for it.
I have a handsome, wonderful husband, with a crappy, debilitating illness. He blames himself for our problems. You know, Man Stuff. Please.
I don't blame him. I put the blame squarely where it belongs: ME. I'm the one who got fired last year. I'm the one who can get to an interview, but not past it. I'm the one who either considers herself too good for a McJob, or more likely, so shy the thought of being around people makes her physically ill.
I just want to crawl into the ground and die. I may be missed but things would be better off without me. Without me the Hubby could get the cheap electric, phone and gas. Or his son could move in with him. I know the M-in-L wouldn't cry much. The only bad thing is my son would probably be devistated.
I want to feel like I make a difference in this world, but I don't. I am NOTHING! And all of our money woes are my fault. I have a job interview this week, one next week, but you know I won't get the job. I'm tired. I'm just sooo tired. I think I need to squirrel away some of the Hubby's generic Xanax. He shouldn't miss it. One ought to be prepared.
And for anybody suggesting that this is just my depression: Yeah, So What?!! Getting help for my depression is just another thing that costs money! Me being a leech!
God! I'm disgusting!
I have a handsome, wonderful husband, with a crappy, debilitating illness. He blames himself for our problems. You know, Man Stuff. Please.
I don't blame him. I put the blame squarely where it belongs: ME. I'm the one who got fired last year. I'm the one who can get to an interview, but not past it. I'm the one who either considers herself too good for a McJob, or more likely, so shy the thought of being around people makes her physically ill.
I just want to crawl into the ground and die. I may be missed but things would be better off without me. Without me the Hubby could get the cheap electric, phone and gas. Or his son could move in with him. I know the M-in-L wouldn't cry much. The only bad thing is my son would probably be devistated.
I want to feel like I make a difference in this world, but I don't. I am NOTHING! And all of our money woes are my fault. I have a job interview this week, one next week, but you know I won't get the job. I'm tired. I'm just sooo tired. I think I need to squirrel away some of the Hubby's generic Xanax. He shouldn't miss it. One ought to be prepared.
And for anybody suggesting that this is just my depression: Yeah, So What?!! Getting help for my depression is just another thing that costs money! Me being a leech!
God! I'm disgusting!
Monday, March 12, 2007
No. 394 or Waiting for 24
Two more state job interviews coming up. Two more chances to booger up the interviews.
Have seen no jobs in the paper that trip my trigger. I don't want a call center job anymore, they stress me out too much. I want a job that has actual sick leave - and the taking of which doesn't count as an absence. I'd prefer a job that I like, but I don't see that happening. I don't want to work at Wal-Mart, or any fast food place, or Magic Bait (down the road from me - makes stinky bait for fish). I know that sounds kind of stuck up. Shouldn't I be taking anything to be bringing in money, even if it breaks my will to live? Am I being selfish? Does that matter? People tell me I need to take care of myself. Shouldn't I have a job that reflects who I am? But what the hell is it?!
Anyway, need to shut off, 24's about to come on. Will Jack get out of the Russian Consulate? Is everybody in the consulate involved somehow? Will President Palmer wake up and tell his Veep to shove it? How is the ex-president guy's wife going to be involved? Will the arab dude with the nukes learn he's really just a patsy for the Russian dude? And how are they going to find the Arab dude and the Russian dude? And will it be before his drones take off?
Let's go see......
Have seen no jobs in the paper that trip my trigger. I don't want a call center job anymore, they stress me out too much. I want a job that has actual sick leave - and the taking of which doesn't count as an absence. I'd prefer a job that I like, but I don't see that happening. I don't want to work at Wal-Mart, or any fast food place, or Magic Bait (down the road from me - makes stinky bait for fish). I know that sounds kind of stuck up. Shouldn't I be taking anything to be bringing in money, even if it breaks my will to live? Am I being selfish? Does that matter? People tell me I need to take care of myself. Shouldn't I have a job that reflects who I am? But what the hell is it?!
Anyway, need to shut off, 24's about to come on. Will Jack get out of the Russian Consulate? Is everybody in the consulate involved somehow? Will President Palmer wake up and tell his Veep to shove it? How is the ex-president guy's wife going to be involved? Will the arab dude with the nukes learn he's really just a patsy for the Russian dude? And how are they going to find the Arab dude and the Russian dude? And will it be before his drones take off?
Let's go see......
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Post No. 393 - AKA Trying Not to Cry
Didn't get the OSBI job. But, curiously, I am getting a 2nd interview at the place I didn't think I was qualified. They mentioned software they use that I don't even know what it is!
Damn! I said I wouldn't cry!
What the hell is wrong with me?! Why can't I get a job?
No, no, no, no, no! Why can't I just go ahead and win the Powerball, so I don't have to worry about money. So I don't have to worry about the Hubby taking the ultimate pain relief. So I can be with him instead of being 40 miles away at some job I'll just get sick of within 6 months.
Money is just sooo worthless, and yet it's all I need.
Maybe I should just lay down and die, too. But, no I don't want to die. Like I've always told my son, Life is an adventure. Not always fun, not always easy, but always an adventure.
My adventure is just starting.
Damn! I said I wouldn't cry!
What the hell is wrong with me?! Why can't I get a job?
No, no, no, no, no! Why can't I just go ahead and win the Powerball, so I don't have to worry about money. So I don't have to worry about the Hubby taking the ultimate pain relief. So I can be with him instead of being 40 miles away at some job I'll just get sick of within 6 months.
Money is just sooo worthless, and yet it's all I need.
Maybe I should just lay down and die, too. But, no I don't want to die. Like I've always told my son, Life is an adventure. Not always fun, not always easy, but always an adventure.
My adventure is just starting.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
The Hubby and I went to a pain management guy off of May Ave. and 63rd St. yesterday. What a freakin' waste of time. 2 freakin' hours there! Making the Hubby move in ways he doesn't really move anymore, telling me to be quiet, only to be told he needs to see a rheumatologist and needs to do stretching exercises (for parts that don't move anymore)! Muscle pain and arthitis, now go away! Who the hell does he deal with?! Addicts?!! Now he feels even more suicidal than before! And as much as I hate to say it, I don't blame him. A pain guy tells him he can't help his pain?! Christ!
I'm still unemployed, haven't heard NO from the OSBI, but I think it's still too early in their hiring process (kind of a long, drawn out thing). And aside from that, I don't even want to look for a job! And I can't tell you why. Just a lazy bum I guess.
Still worried about losing my car, though I don't really know why.
Still riding the kiddie roller coaster of depression (and still envying the manic phase of Bi-Polar disorder). I really would like to be on Lexapro, or so. But that's not going to happen.
And this will make post no. 392. Eight more posts to #400!
I'm still unemployed, haven't heard NO from the OSBI, but I think it's still too early in their hiring process (kind of a long, drawn out thing). And aside from that, I don't even want to look for a job! And I can't tell you why. Just a lazy bum I guess.
Still worried about losing my car, though I don't really know why.
Still riding the kiddie roller coaster of depression (and still envying the manic phase of Bi-Polar disorder). I really would like to be on Lexapro, or so. But that's not going to happen.
And this will make post no. 392. Eight more posts to #400!
Monday, February 26, 2007
Blogging the Library
Well my 3 job interviews are now past. One I think I did real well, One I think I did ok, One - I'm just not qualified. And that was ok, I didn't like the looks of the place anyway. I think I did well at the OSBI, but I've said that about other interviews, too. They said it was a pretty long and drawn out process. There was only one opening available, and, it seemed, boatloads of interviewees. Hopefully I made an impression. I liked the place, I liked the people, but now it's down to fate.
I'm trying to stay optimistic, but that is excruciatingly hard for me. I just don't automatically come that way.
And my anxiety level has been skyrocketing lately. I keep imagining my car being reposessed. I am a month behind. I've had that happen before, and still had to pay off the car loan. The Hubby stresses over medical bills. I don't. If I can't pay them, I don't worry about it. I'll worry about other bills. Thank God I don't have a credit card!
I'm trying to stay optimistic, but that is excruciatingly hard for me. I just don't automatically come that way.
And my anxiety level has been skyrocketing lately. I keep imagining my car being reposessed. I am a month behind. I've had that happen before, and still had to pay off the car loan. The Hubby stresses over medical bills. I don't. If I can't pay them, I don't worry about it. I'll worry about other bills. Thank God I don't have a credit card!
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Sorry about the absense, I guess I need to bring my 2 or 3 readers up to speed.
My dreams of being not unlike Jed Clampett have been dashed upon the rocks of reality. My royalties are not what I had hoped, but better than nothing. There goes my dream of being an old, fat Paris Hilton (though more well read)!
I had a temp job at Teleflora for 2 weeks, and discovered I DON'T WANT TO WORK AT A CALL CENTER EVER, EVER, EVER AGAIN!!! I'm just too burned out. Flowers this time. Flowers did me in, orders and complaints. I may have burned my bridges there, but I don't care.
3 job interviews this week! One was Wednesday at the Payne County Health Department, the other two are tomorrow. One at the OSBI, the other I know the address, but that's about all. The one on Wednesday went well, I think, but I've said that before without getting the job. The Hubby swears this time is it! That's what his psychic powers are telling him. How come psychic powers never give you the lottery numbers? Hopefully next week tells a different, better, story.
And, I got my hair cut for the first time in a year, year 1/2. It's looks good, I think. My self-esteem is too poor to be sure. About 3 inches are gone - in long layers (fine hair), face framed. I'm considering color. Not to color my gray, being dark blond, my grays don't stand out that much.
So, I'm having fair days and bad days. There was a day last week (or early this week) when I was ready to kill myself because I burned the Hubby's toast!
And about other things:
I really couldn't care less about Anna Nichole Smith. Her death may be natural, but it looks suspicious. She should be next to her son, and not pawned off to a mother she hadn't talked to in years. I really feel for the baby, Danilynn. Noone seems to care for her. It's all about money. That's sad.
Now there are two presidential candidates I will not vote for: Hilliary Clinton, and (big surprise) John McCain. Actually there's more than two, I won't vote for any Republican. And does the election REALLY have to start a year early. Can't it be about the issues, and not how much money a certain candidate has? Am I naive? To me, the money just corrupts everybody, it does no good.
Jimmy, in the Navy, is in the last portion of his training, he'll be assigned to a ship around June. He called me the day before Valentine's day. It's like pulling teeth to get either of us to talk, so it was a short conversation. He says he in "the bottom of the top". He's doing well, he's just driven enough not to think so.
My stepson has gotten a tattoo. A black and red star, nice, but kind of plain. he say's he's going to add to it later.
I guess that's about it for now. I appreciate everyone who has hung with me. These rants are my only outlet for my depression. I appreciate you staying to listen. Thank you.
My dreams of being not unlike Jed Clampett have been dashed upon the rocks of reality. My royalties are not what I had hoped, but better than nothing. There goes my dream of being an old, fat Paris Hilton (though more well read)!
I had a temp job at Teleflora for 2 weeks, and discovered I DON'T WANT TO WORK AT A CALL CENTER EVER, EVER, EVER AGAIN!!! I'm just too burned out. Flowers this time. Flowers did me in, orders and complaints. I may have burned my bridges there, but I don't care.
3 job interviews this week! One was Wednesday at the Payne County Health Department, the other two are tomorrow. One at the OSBI, the other I know the address, but that's about all. The one on Wednesday went well, I think, but I've said that before without getting the job. The Hubby swears this time is it! That's what his psychic powers are telling him. How come psychic powers never give you the lottery numbers? Hopefully next week tells a different, better, story.
And, I got my hair cut for the first time in a year, year 1/2. It's looks good, I think. My self-esteem is too poor to be sure. About 3 inches are gone - in long layers (fine hair), face framed. I'm considering color. Not to color my gray, being dark blond, my grays don't stand out that much.
So, I'm having fair days and bad days. There was a day last week (or early this week) when I was ready to kill myself because I burned the Hubby's toast!
And about other things:
I really couldn't care less about Anna Nichole Smith. Her death may be natural, but it looks suspicious. She should be next to her son, and not pawned off to a mother she hadn't talked to in years. I really feel for the baby, Danilynn. Noone seems to care for her. It's all about money. That's sad.
Now there are two presidential candidates I will not vote for: Hilliary Clinton, and (big surprise) John McCain. Actually there's more than two, I won't vote for any Republican. And does the election REALLY have to start a year early. Can't it be about the issues, and not how much money a certain candidate has? Am I naive? To me, the money just corrupts everybody, it does no good.
Jimmy, in the Navy, is in the last portion of his training, he'll be assigned to a ship around June. He called me the day before Valentine's day. It's like pulling teeth to get either of us to talk, so it was a short conversation. He says he in "the bottom of the top". He's doing well, he's just driven enough not to think so.
My stepson has gotten a tattoo. A black and red star, nice, but kind of plain. he say's he's going to add to it later.
I guess that's about it for now. I appreciate everyone who has hung with me. These rants are my only outlet for my depression. I appreciate you staying to listen. Thank you.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Well, I have a two-week temp assignment (floral call-center's Valentine's Day overflow) coming up. But still no real desire to even LOOK for a job. Especially since, you know, I can't pass an interview to save my life.
I haven't seen any oil money. Have learned that my share may only add up to about $500 a month. Hell, I don't know if it's going to come to my house! Who knows? Maybe it won't come at all.
I'm hoping Friday (and my husband's Social Security), comes before my money runs out. I don't know how I'm going to make: my car payment, utilities, car insurance, phone. The mortgage will be taken care of though.
I'm not quite as depressed as I was (but without antidepressants, thats kind of a meaningless phrase), but hysteria (panic?) out the yin-yang.
I've been trying to think of something I could do for a living that I would enjoy. I'm kind of coming up blank. I can't imagine knitting for a living, I do that for fun (when I have money, and antidepressants - it's the first to go). Reading for a living would be cool, but is there really anything like that (in Oklahoma)? Selling my coloring as art would be cool (and no, I can't really discribe it - it's drawing a line that never crosses to make a design and finally connect the ends and color), but who am I kidding - it's coloring, not art.
oh, hell, maybe I should just go to Carl's Jr. or McD's - at least I'd get a meal.
I haven't seen any oil money. Have learned that my share may only add up to about $500 a month. Hell, I don't know if it's going to come to my house! Who knows? Maybe it won't come at all.
I'm hoping Friday (and my husband's Social Security), comes before my money runs out. I don't know how I'm going to make: my car payment, utilities, car insurance, phone. The mortgage will be taken care of though.
I'm not quite as depressed as I was (but without antidepressants, thats kind of a meaningless phrase), but hysteria (panic?) out the yin-yang.
I've been trying to think of something I could do for a living that I would enjoy. I'm kind of coming up blank. I can't imagine knitting for a living, I do that for fun (when I have money, and antidepressants - it's the first to go). Reading for a living would be cool, but is there really anything like that (in Oklahoma)? Selling my coloring as art would be cool (and no, I can't really discribe it - it's drawing a line that never crosses to make a design and finally connect the ends and color), but who am I kidding - it's coloring, not art.
oh, hell, maybe I should just go to Carl's Jr. or McD's - at least I'd get a meal.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
If There Is Anybody Who Actually Reads This...
I need help!
I need to know why life is still worth living, because right now, I just don't see it.
I need to know why life is still worth living, because right now, I just don't see it.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Ya talk about your poop-outs! I got a little bit more sleet, but that was it.
And I know I need to be looking for a job, but it's just not there. All I can think of, is even if I get an interview, I'll just booger it up. The only jobs I had last year were temps. And how many jobs did I interview for? It's just too discouraging.
So, for right now at least, I'm going to be a lazy bum. But if it's any consolation, I hate myself.
And I know I need to be looking for a job, but it's just not there. All I can think of, is even if I get an interview, I'll just booger it up. The only jobs I had last year were temps. And how many jobs did I interview for? It's just too discouraging.
So, for right now at least, I'm going to be a lazy bum. But if it's any consolation, I hate myself.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Snow Storm 2007!!!!
The temporary assignment opening mail for the Christian Charity has ended. I could've stretched it out another week, but it would have been 4hr days only, and since I come from Guthrie, and have had to have the Hubby cart me around this week, that just didn't pay. We did part amicably. Even though I hated the job and was ready to go, I cried a little. I'm just not good with the unknown. I'm not exactly an optimist. They were having a blood drive yesterday, I tried but had low iron. Would having no breakfast count? It was just before lunch, and I was starving.
And speaking of having the Hubby cart me around...!!!!
I GOT OUT OF THE YARD ON MY OWN CAR'S POWER, FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS WEEK!!!! Of course, my road's still ice packed, and I had to back up until I found a place I could go forward (15 mph on the speedometer, about 2 in actual forward momentum). Once I was onto Industrial (in Guthrie), it was fine, ice spotty only in places, but fine. It was nice to be out and about today! Of course, it's all supposed to go to shit again today (tonight, tomorrow - whenever). Figures.
So, probably won't get out to the KATT blood drive tomorrow, my Literacy Tutor Training has been postponed for a couple of weeks. So, I'm free.
Now I'm at the point again of needing a job. I've been looking at job openings, but not really seriously. After all, I can't get through an interview to save my life. And there's always some, more competent, person (or a better bs'r) behind me, ready to mop up my mistakes.
I hate the unknown. The only thing wrong with me is depression (well, and high cholesterol). I should be able to look for, and get, a job. Maybe I should do what the M-in-L says and like go to Wal-Mart or McD's or so, don't they hire about anybody? I tried Target last year, 2 of them in fact. but guess what? Yes, I boogered up the interviews and didn't get the job. How am I supposed to get over this feeling of utter worthlessness? Because I'm not. worth. a. damn! So I don't feel good about myself! So what?! What kind of lazy bum am I that I can't get some kind of work (and waaay too shy to do the "Will work for food" scam)?!
I would like to know that life is ok and maybe will get better. But it just doesn't seem that way right now.
I hate the unknown.
And speaking of having the Hubby cart me around...!!!!
I GOT OUT OF THE YARD ON MY OWN CAR'S POWER, FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS WEEK!!!! Of course, my road's still ice packed, and I had to back up until I found a place I could go forward (15 mph on the speedometer, about 2 in actual forward momentum). Once I was onto Industrial (in Guthrie), it was fine, ice spotty only in places, but fine. It was nice to be out and about today! Of course, it's all supposed to go to shit again today (tonight, tomorrow - whenever). Figures.
So, probably won't get out to the KATT blood drive tomorrow, my Literacy Tutor Training has been postponed for a couple of weeks. So, I'm free.
Now I'm at the point again of needing a job. I've been looking at job openings, but not really seriously. After all, I can't get through an interview to save my life. And there's always some, more competent, person (or a better bs'r) behind me, ready to mop up my mistakes.
I hate the unknown. The only thing wrong with me is depression (well, and high cholesterol). I should be able to look for, and get, a job. Maybe I should do what the M-in-L says and like go to Wal-Mart or McD's or so, don't they hire about anybody? I tried Target last year, 2 of them in fact. but guess what? Yes, I boogered up the interviews and didn't get the job. How am I supposed to get over this feeling of utter worthlessness? Because I'm not. worth. a. damn! So I don't feel good about myself! So what?! What kind of lazy bum am I that I can't get some kind of work (and waaay too shy to do the "Will work for food" scam)?!
I would like to know that life is ok and maybe will get better. But it just doesn't seem that way right now.
I hate the unknown.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
ICE STORM 2007!!!!
Can the media just SHUT UP now?! At least here in Guthrie it's not as bad as it could have been, and certainly doesn't warrant 24 hour coverage by the local media. It's assinine! They better not interrupt 24 tonight!!
Well, the KATT blood drive was posponed until next Saturday, when I have the literacy tutoring session. So I have to decide whether I give blood at the charitable organization later this week or just go into the Edmond OBI location and hope to get a KATT t-shirt.
I was kind of hoping that the assignment was over, as it's getting kind of old. but they haven't told me, and I'll stay until they push me out the door. I'll just complain about it alot.
I did have a paragraph complaining about my life (what's new there?), but somehow the palm of my hand rested on buttons and deleted it. That's another thing I dislike about my husband's laptop. Oh well, it wasn't all that original anyway. Just prattling on about my depression. Not crashing like during my PMS week, more like white noise going on all the time.
You know there's nothing going on, when I can't think of anything to write about. Even of my favorite subject - me.
And of the SURGE, what was that old saw? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting a different outcome everytime?
Well, the KATT blood drive was posponed until next Saturday, when I have the literacy tutoring session. So I have to decide whether I give blood at the charitable organization later this week or just go into the Edmond OBI location and hope to get a KATT t-shirt.
I was kind of hoping that the assignment was over, as it's getting kind of old. but they haven't told me, and I'll stay until they push me out the door. I'll just complain about it alot.
I did have a paragraph complaining about my life (what's new there?), but somehow the palm of my hand rested on buttons and deleted it. That's another thing I dislike about my husband's laptop. Oh well, it wasn't all that original anyway. Just prattling on about my depression. Not crashing like during my PMS week, more like white noise going on all the time.
You know there's nothing going on, when I can't think of anything to write about. Even of my favorite subject - me.
And of the SURGE, what was that old saw? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting a different outcome everytime?
Sunday, January 07, 2007
According to my sitemeter stats, I have one reader. But do you realize what that means? I actually have someone who reads me?! Isn't that just so cool?!
Not much going on. My temp service called me on Friday just to see how the assignment was going. Excuse me? Are these the same people who ignored me after the SWA assignment? Are these the people who have given me grief for telling the people whose work I'm doing when I need to be off and not the people who pay my check (mainly because my shift starts 2-3 hours before my temp service opens)? Well, according to them my assignment still ends around mid-January. So, I guess that means I have 1 or 2 weeks to go. And then what?
Well I'm actually kind of ready for the assignment to be over. Even though I haven't a clue as to what to do next. Since I can't get through an interview to save my life, looking for a new job is kind of pointless.
More later, I guess.
Not much going on. My temp service called me on Friday just to see how the assignment was going. Excuse me? Are these the same people who ignored me after the SWA assignment? Are these the people who have given me grief for telling the people whose work I'm doing when I need to be off and not the people who pay my check (mainly because my shift starts 2-3 hours before my temp service opens)? Well, according to them my assignment still ends around mid-January. So, I guess that means I have 1 or 2 weeks to go. And then what?
Well I'm actually kind of ready for the assignment to be over. Even though I haven't a clue as to what to do next. Since I can't get through an interview to save my life, looking for a new job is kind of pointless.
More later, I guess.
Monday, January 01, 2007
And so it's 2007
Not a good time for me to mull over the past year and think about the one upcoming. I've been sad today. It may be PMS (can I STOP having a period now!!!), though. Completely unsure. My 47-year-old body is kinda wacko in that regard.
My son told me not to worry about his car troubles, he's handling it. Of course he is. He's a good kid, a smart kid, and not a kid (and when did THAT happen?). He called me last night, worried about me. Wow! What did I do to deserve a kid like that?!
I don't know.
I wish I had more talent. Then maybe I could get the stories that occupy my mind out. But then, for the two other people who read this, they could read these blogs to my right - they actually have talent.
And I still have no desire to look for a job that I won't get because I can't interview to save my life. So I have no idea what's going to happen when the current temp job ends. Of course it would be nice if I got my oil money by then. Then maybe I could go to the doctor's and get put on an antidepressant that works for me (like lexapro). And go to the eyedoctors and get new glasses, probably bifocals, so I'm not taking off or putting on my glasses constantly (currently on my forehead). And If it's a lot of money, I can pay off last years taxes, the unemployment their making me return, pay off my car, and start making a dent in old medical bills. And if it's an embarrassingly huge amount of money, buy a new truck and a 5th wheel camper and TRAVEL with the hubby and the children (yes, I mean the dogs). That would be nice.
And coming up this month, the KATT blood drive, and I start my literacy tutor training. I'm pretty psyched about that. I'm not real sure how good a teacher I'll be, being incredibly shy. But still.
I think Bubba (the Basset/hound dog mix) needs a puppy, but the Hubby says 3 dogs are enough. Cletus the rescue Basset still jumps on him, but I don't know why (it MAY be that butt-licking thing). And Ziva the dachshund is a princess, and usually too wrapped up in herself (or playing with her cat, Whiskers, if he's in the house). So it's clear (to me at least) Bubba needs a puppy.
Reading up on Bassets, (when we found Bubba) we learned they have a nose second only to a bloodhound. Today, over at the M-in-L's house, Cletus started sniffing around the couch, went behind the couch, and then back in front of me (sitting on the couch). Would have knocked me off it and lifted it up with just his nose if he could have manage it: there was a rawhide piece stuck inbetween sections. Amazing! He loves his rawhides (and pig ears)!
My son told me not to worry about his car troubles, he's handling it. Of course he is. He's a good kid, a smart kid, and not a kid (and when did THAT happen?). He called me last night, worried about me. Wow! What did I do to deserve a kid like that?!
I don't know.
I wish I had more talent. Then maybe I could get the stories that occupy my mind out. But then, for the two other people who read this, they could read these blogs to my right - they actually have talent.
And I still have no desire to look for a job that I won't get because I can't interview to save my life. So I have no idea what's going to happen when the current temp job ends. Of course it would be nice if I got my oil money by then. Then maybe I could go to the doctor's and get put on an antidepressant that works for me (like lexapro). And go to the eyedoctors and get new glasses, probably bifocals, so I'm not taking off or putting on my glasses constantly (currently on my forehead). And If it's a lot of money, I can pay off last years taxes, the unemployment their making me return, pay off my car, and start making a dent in old medical bills. And if it's an embarrassingly huge amount of money, buy a new truck and a 5th wheel camper and TRAVEL with the hubby and the children (yes, I mean the dogs). That would be nice.
And coming up this month, the KATT blood drive, and I start my literacy tutor training. I'm pretty psyched about that. I'm not real sure how good a teacher I'll be, being incredibly shy. But still.
I think Bubba (the Basset/hound dog mix) needs a puppy, but the Hubby says 3 dogs are enough. Cletus the rescue Basset still jumps on him, but I don't know why (it MAY be that butt-licking thing). And Ziva the dachshund is a princess, and usually too wrapped up in herself (or playing with her cat, Whiskers, if he's in the house). So it's clear (to me at least) Bubba needs a puppy.
Reading up on Bassets, (when we found Bubba) we learned they have a nose second only to a bloodhound. Today, over at the M-in-L's house, Cletus started sniffing around the couch, went behind the couch, and then back in front of me (sitting on the couch). Would have knocked me off it and lifted it up with just his nose if he could have manage it: there was a rawhide piece stuck inbetween sections. Amazing! He loves his rawhides (and pig ears)!
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