stuck

i've been wandering around in this land of nothing for the last few weeks- only working one day a week, working on the house as i'm able (or help is available), just...drifting. there's been plenty of wasted time thanks to netflix and...honestly, i'm not sure what else.

i have worked on thinning out the crap that's stacked up around the house- furniture, clothes, STUFF, endless piles of STUFF that's accumulated over the last two years despite best efforts to routinely clean out and donate to arc or value village or give it away to people that might have a need. good god...SO MUCH STUFF. stupid consumer mindset.

anyway. i'm a fan of the drifting. it's nice to not HAVE to do things, but at the same time...i have no idea what i want to do. i have no idea what i want from a LOT of things.

but drifting only gets you so far. and it gets old QUICK.

i've never been a 10 year plan kinda gal. i've never been a corporate climber or one of those people with nine billion business ideas but no time to do them. hell, all i have lately is time and no ideas.

i still don't really know what i want to be when i grow up- i know what i'm good at, i know what i enjoy doing, but none of those things are what i could see myself doing day after day until the time social security (if it still exists then) kicks in.

i love writing- but do i want to do it every day under deadline and with other people editing/critiquing constantly? i honestly don't know.

i love making jewelry. doesn't exactly pay the bills.

i'm a damn good secretary but i tend to get bored sitting at the same desk pushing the same papers day after day.

so today i'm sitting here thinking about what i want.

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ok. so i started this blog a few weeks ago and circled back to it again today. i did not change ONE. SINGLE. THING. all the feelings are the same, everything is the same.

WHICH ISN'T GOOD.

i means i haven't pulled myself out of my funk yet.

it means i'm wallowing.

pigs wallow.

in mud.

and poop.

ew.

so. if nothing else, the funk has gotten worse over the last few weeks which makes me want to haul my ass out even more.

the last week has been especially hard- everything around me is changing.

friends are starting school or finishing school or off to start new careers. new babies are arriving. relationships are changing. friends are reaching their AMAZING career goals (side note: sitting with a great friend when they get the job offer of a life time is an amazing moment).

it sounds strange, but my #wednesdaynightshenannigans coming to an end this week hit particularly hard. see, if you haven't been properly stalking me for the last 2.5 years then what you don't know is that every wednesday i have MY bar, MY band, MY night out. it's been the same place and time and band every wednesday (as much as possible anyway) for TWO AND A HALF years. that ended this week. the band is going through some changes and it this week was the last performance in this bar on wednesdays.

YES, the bar will still be there. YES, they'll still have music. YES, my band is still playing (in different locations with a new guitar player). so the world isn't ENDING, but pretty damn close.

it was just...this moment. the end of an era. one more in a series of changes while i'm stuck sitting still.

and i feel STUCK.

i'm waiting...

waiting to hear back from resumes sent out. waiting for the house to sell. waiting for the teenage spawn to decide where he wants to live. waiting...waiting...waiting.

and i'm TRYING to do things. i've got the house as finished as possible to sell. i'm sending out applications and kicking buckets. i'm talking to the spawn and helping him reason through things.

but NOTHING is happening.

and i'm just.

STUCK.

and everything around me is changing and growing and taking shape.

and here i am.

and it sucks.

and i think the hardest thing is that i still DON'T KNOW what exactly i'm looking for. i don't know where i want to be. i don't know.

i don't know if i want to stay in spokane.

i don't know if i still want to be a secretary.

i don't know if it's better for the teenager to be with me or his dad at this point.

i just...don't know.

and it's hard to get traction to do anything when you do know what the thing is you want to do.

and i feel like i'm SO CLOSE to something. i feel like there's this huge moment just around the corner, but i can't quite round it yet.

i'm just.

frustrated.

and i know that when i'm frustrated is when i need to write the most. and i haven't even been doing that. and i say i will. and i have a million ideas of things to write about. but by the time i sit down to do it i'd rather browse hours of nothingness on netflix instead.

yes, i realize how lame that is.

i need some kind of a kick in the ass. i need something to connect. and i know when it does it will be excellent. hell, my fortune cookie told me so, see:

i just need to unstuckify myself.

so. if you need me, i'll be over here with the proverbial crow bar.

in the mean time...any writing suggestions? questions about anything that i can answer in long vomitous rambling form?

what doesn't kill you still hurts like fuck

i've been trying to sit down and write this for well over a week now.

i've been through a full season of friends while procrastinating, worked on the house, mowed the lawn, sat starting at nothing for a good many hours, talked to friends, gone to work...hell, i even went on a small shopping spree trying to avoid this.

yet here we are.

i've started, restarted, hand written, cussed and discussed with friends, i can't seem to make this one come out the way it needs to. or maybe the way i think i need it to.

so. if i can't make it come out the way i think it needs to, then how does it REALLY need to come out?


two weeks ago i was quietly minding my own business when a voicemail came in:

"hi there, we're on our way to town and wanted to know if we could stop and say goodbye to the boys. (insert tragic crying here). we're moving to alabama and wanted a chance to say hello and goodbye."

thanks. MOM.

yeah. my mom calls and gives me an hour notice she's moving across the country. spiffy.
 
so i called back. told her she could stop by but her husband still isn't allowed near my house. i have this funny rule about not letting pedophiles near my kids. strange, i know. overprotective bitch of a mom i guess.

"but you'll be there the whole time..."

no. not sorry at all. WILL NOT let a pedophile around my kids. PERIOD. end of sentence.

"oh. well then i'll be in contact."

oh rejection. we meet again.

my mother is moving across the country, gives an hour notice, and AGAIN (still) decides a pedophile is more important to her than her own blood.

*sigh*

at least i've learned that it's not ME. i've done nothing wrong. her choices are HER choices. i'll never know why. i'll never be able to change it. all i can do is stand my ground, protect my kids, and let the rest roll off.

if you know me at all, you know how hard it is to write that small paragraph. let it roll off.  it's not me.

so. i call my brother to find out what's going on. long story short- job changes.

BUT. my brother happens to mention that he came up on memorial day for a goodbye party at mums house.

i'm sorry.

WHAT?

he drove through town with his family TWICE. there and back. TWICE. and didn't bother to call, stop by, give me a heads up or anything.

so. yeah. that rejection thing. twice in under an hour.

ouch.

oh, and remember that whole break up thing just a few days before?

how many hits can an ego take in three days?

so. there it is. three strikes. fucking ow.

surprisingly, that all didn't rattle me as much as i thought it would. at least not in the way i thought it would. i didn't go through the rejection feelings i normally would. i didn't feel wrong or broken. i didn't feel at fault, or damaged. i know it's their decisions. i know i'm still ok. i know i can't answer things for them or change their minds. i know that it will only drive me bat shit crazy trying to answer the why. i know that i just have to say THAT SUCKS. that really fucking sucks ass. it hurts like a mother fucker. it isn't the way it should (yes, i understand that should's are a problem in themselves) be. IT FUCKING HURTS. even if i'm ok not knowing why. even if i'm ok knowing it's not me. even if i'm ok still loving who i am- IT STILL FUCKING SUCKS.

so i say that. i recognize that. i own that.

and i move on.

or i sit still in one place it turns out.

i'm not hurt, but i'm also not moving forward.

here it is a few weeks later and i'm drifting. i've got my head up my ass making some shit decisions, letting myself get lost in a few strange/unexpected ways.

and then another blow to the good old ego.

my mom stopped by today completely out of the blue. just pulled up to my house at noon on a friday.

a) why the fuck isn't she in alabama?
b) why the fuck is she stopping by without calling?
c) what the fuck could she possibly want?

no answers to a or b, but the answer to c was apparently to prove to me again why i'm better off without her in my life.

she had a bunch of shit for me. while cleaning out the house she "found" a bunch of stuff from my dad. his john denver records, some necklaces he'd given her WAY back in the day (30ish years ago), and some other random shit.

best way to start off a conversation?

"i have some stuff from your dad for you."

ummm- my dad's been dead THREE YEARS.

any stuff you "have from him" should have been handed over a fuck of a long time ago or left alone.

but of course it can't just be a one two punch of her showing up and finally turning over my dad's stuff. good things come in threes after all, don't they?

what other great parting shots/gifts does she have for me?

how about a giant fucking poster board from my WEDDING RECEPTION.

yeah. that domestic violence marriage i fought like hell to get out of 10 years ago?

OF COURSE i would love a giant reminder of that.

couldn't have just taken the pictures off and passed those along? had to pass on the whole fucking poster board too?

obviously the effort went in at some point to remove his photos. couldn't just pop out the other ones and trash the board? literally took about 15 seconds to do this afternoon. but...you know...why NOT pass along the whole reminder of the marriage and just rip open that scar too?


*SIGH*

so here i sit tonight. i've done a LOT of writing the last few days and more this afternoon. the actual physical writing stuff. pen to paper, empty the brain, work through all the shit that's been back piling and distracting me.

i don't know if i have any answers. i do know that i recognize things aren't going where they need to be, my head isn't where it needs to be, and my decision making sure as fuck isn't where it needs to be.

i know that my issues are bullshit at the end of the day; there's people with real shit going on. more than someone stopping by with a poster board. more than a few hurt feelings over a break up or a brother not visiting while driving through town. i realize that i need to keep perspective- there's people dealing with cancer and death and unemployment, people losing their homes, PTSD, REAL SHIT.

i didn't know how to start this and i don't know how to end this. this week is a "mommy vacation" week- the spawns will both be gone for a few days so i'm going to take this time to get my shit together, get a plan, get back on a track at least and start making some movement forward again. i'll finish up the house, get it listed again, start considering work again, get some sense of purpose and, hell, maybe even a plan.

i know. crazy talk. me with a plan. next thing i'm going to have a 5 year goal.

oh lordy. i crack me up.

anyway.