5:52 p.m. | 2004-11-21
My Decisions, My Consequences
For some reason fate has put her little mary jane covered foot down in front of me. She's holding her wand in one hand and waving her finger no on the the other. She's got her own little way of playing with me. Bringing back boys just days after I was truly done with them. Making me remember good times and making me note the bad.
And she's practically given me a week off.
In general I work about 65 hours a week. With a break of about 3 hours in the middle of the day between jobs that leaves for a pretty filled day. I get up and am at work by 6:30 usually and out of work by 9:30. I then go home, collapse, and start the next day.
But now one of my jobs is closing earlier, 7 instead of 9. And I only got 20 hours from my other job. And the one job is closed on thanksgiving. That means that compared to the usual 65 hours I'm working about 35. That's 30 more hours that I have to do something else.
Living such a busy life you'd think that would give me extra time to get things done. But in all reality all I have to do is fold a load of laundry. My bills are paid. Most of my Christmas shopping done. I have nothing but going to the gym to get accomplished each day. And that, at absolute most, takes up two hours of my time.
I could take up hobbies again, like painting and taking pictures, but I fear they'd make me obsessed once more and would make life difficult later on. I could busy myself with baking and the like, but that's not really a distraction.
What I've found is that I'm alone. I got off of work last night, and totally exausted from the 3 hours of sleep I had, I was in bed by midnight. And I slept until noon (quite unusual). Now, napping can't be my exuse because I've had 12 hours of rest. And I'm left to deal with myself for all of today. And tomorrow morning. And for several days this week I'll have the entire day off.
And that human connection that I was missing oh so much is no becoming so apparant. Because I realized today, as I was wiping tears from my cheek, that I'm truly self-loathing. And that the reason I never notice it is because I'm too busy to make note of it.
So fate brought down her foot and had me reading through entries, and clicking through comments, and seeing things that people thought. And for days now I've wanted to run to the art store and pick up a canvas (I haven't allowed myself to have any in the house for fear of obsession) and just paint my little heart out...but I can't bring myself to do that. I have to deal with me and who I am and where I'm going.
Because I've made baby steps towards knowing me. I've made a lot of baby steps, but I still look up and see miles of road in front of me. And then there's fate with her little fucking foot and those cute fucking little shoes and she's got this look of disdain in her face. Like I have to do something to satisfy her first. Like she's dissapointed in me.
And I don't know what she wants. And I don't know what would make her happy. I'll get my to-do list done today and we'll see where that takes me. What road that walks me down and what path I'll follow after that.
It's just that I miss people so much. And I miss those people who were always there, just a phone call away, and available at 2 am. But those people are 1,000 miles away now. Sleeping and dreaming and doing their jobs.
And I've got some phone calls to make.
