well, okay then.

 whew.

 

today was A DAY.

 

yesterday morning, my boss was let go with no notice.

 

this morning the owner let me know they were eliminating my position, effective immediately.

 

so. 

 

holy fuck.

 

that sucks.

i cried all the way home, got a big pity party size latte, took a hot shower to wash all the snot off, and updated my resume.

onward.

the universe wasn't fucking around during my last card pull when EVERY. SINGLE. THING. SAID. CHANGE.

so. let's talk about some of that change.

a year ago when i was fired, i knew it was coming. i had a little time to prepare. it was still terrifying.

this time?

no notice. none. and yet? i'm ok.

this too shall pass.

i have enough to cover october rent and car payment, i'll find a job by the next one. everyone is hiring, so, i got this.

i know i have friends. i know i have support. i know i can land on my feet. again. is that a job? landing on your feet when life fucks you up? i'd be a fucking pro at that.

i know things are different now. my first thought was: well, this sucks. time to go home and meditate and clear my mind and make a plan.

no panic. no chaos. maybe that will hit on monday when i don't have anywhere to go.

but for now? i'm ok. my bills are caught up. stella has a full food container. my car is fixed. my license is renewed. i have enough weed to get through. priorities.

that's two huge things right there: my license, and my car is fixed.

have you been to the DMV lately? it's FANTASTIC. they only let a few people in at a time and it's by appointment, so you're in and out in under 20 minutes. it was so easy. covid may have fucked up...well, 99% of things, but it fixed the DMV!

i'm proud of myself. it sounds like a dumb or trivial thing, but i did it. i remembered to put it into the budget, i went literally from the bank to the DMV on payday on my lunch break and got my license renewed. i had a good hair day, a cute sweater, clear skin, a fresh paycheck, and a weight 30 lbs less than 10 years ago. the stars were only aligned for a nanosecond and i caught it!

also, my cooper is fixed! poor ginger broke her butt. rear taillight went out, turns out it wasn't *just* the bulbs (of course, she's a mini, it's never *just anything for her) it was the whole tail light assembly and plug.

FUCK MY LIFE.

however, the mechanic is an absolute good guy and found the part numbers for me to order off amazon and popped by after work one night to swap it out for me after the parts got here. absolutely saved me hundreds in parts/shop fees.

let me tell you the ANXIETY i had for days when my license was expired AND my tail light was out. good lord. if i had been pulled over, they would have taken one look at my tattoos and given me every citation possible. WHEW. both taken care of.

and the mechanic asked me to join him for a burger and a beer. so. win win.

other good things: my eyebrow appointment tomorrow is the *last* one in my pack. WOOT! brows will be ON FLEEK for interviews. don't tell them i still use "on fleek" if someone calls for a reference.

and i was able to get my lease signed for another 6 months at a less-than-it-started-at increase price. that's amazing. really got sketchy there for a minute. i did find out the "fire inspection" also included ALL of the management team. so, instead of two people in my apartment it was a GROUP of people, AND it was the people i've been fighting with for the last several months. all up in my space. with shady/not fully notified notice. but. i'm tired of fighting. i'm terrified ALREADY of being homeless, now today...

BUT. i have a 6 month lease. i have this month's rent. i have time to find a new job. i got this.

this too shall pass. i might not stick the landing, there may be a stutter step or two ahead. but i got this.

i've worked so hard on maintaining my mental health, my physical health, my financial health and it's paying off.

this time i skipped the shame spiral (mostly). i skipped the self loathing and the unending list of every mistake i've made ever and why i'm the most terrible employee of all time. meh. just makes my eyes puffy and gives me a gnarly headache. who needs either of those?

SO.

it's friday. it's 5:00 somewhere.

the sun is out, the windows are wide open. tonight i will meditate and recenter and refresh and get everything sorted out.

onward!

work from home: week 1

well.

i promised myself when i started this project i would write about it all.

the good, the bad, the ugly.

this was a bad week.

this was a period hormones, world pandemic, social distancing, work from home notice, struggling to find a reason to stay alive week.

we'll start easy.

last week people started shifting to working from home. the first wave was 25% on friday the 13th. by tuesday it was up to 90%. there were a few of us hold outs at the office.

i prefer to work from an office. i NEED human contact. even if it's just the people walking by on the way to get coffee, IT'S PEOPLE.

i'm not a social person. this is not shocking news.

work is 87.2% of ALL my social interactions.

friday they gave us the official boot and i packed up all my shit and set up my tiny little desk to be my new office.

the work part doesn't bother me. all i need is my computer and a phone.  working from home will be nice in a LOT of ways. no warm toilet seats in the bathroom. no annoying coworker leaving passive aggressive notes on an EMPTY desk claiming it in the middle of everyone being sent home. no assholes leaving both coffee pots in the kitchen empty.

i'll have art to look at all day. plenty of light and windows to see outside. proper meals whenever i'm hungry.

i'll miss the cafe. the baristas were so incredibly nice.

i'll miss seeing my cube-neighbor every morning.

i'll miss the people whose names i don't know but i talked to in the kitchen every morning.

i'm so, so, so immensely grateful to have the opportunity to work from home.

i'm just really struggling with the corporate overlords hyper focus on numbers and productivity and not leaving ANY room for work flow shift as we all adjust to this new normal. i'm struggling giving even the tiniest rats ass about an auto dealership in texas getting fiber internet installed right now. which is...what i do. so.  you know. gotta figure that part out.

i'm nervous about 2x daily group team chats. my new "office" is in my bedroom. because...studio apartment. the potential awkward is off the charts.

i'm nervous about disconnecting at the end of the day. about remember what day it is. i'm already struggling wanting to spend "just a little bit of extra off the clock time" going through file names and cleaning up how things are saved in files i know other people access. now that we're all working from home i have this (virgo) need to organize everything since people won't be able to pop by my cubicle real quick to ask a question.

i worry that i'll be the weak link that will make everyone else not be able to get things done remotely.

i worry that i've only been at this job 4 1/2 months and still barely know my ass from my elbow.

i'm pretty mad at myself right now for never figuring out how to be a stay at home mom or a stay at home partner.

i would give anything right now for my biggest problem to be worrying about how to get acrylic nails off at home since salons are closed and it would be mortifying for anyone to see my nails grown out (real post from a fb group).

OH THE HORROR.

but, alas, i am not a stay at home wife or partner.


i'm still the same, single, social pariah i was last week.

which leads into some of the really bad stuff in my head this week.

my oldest son had to be on a nebulizer for years.  twice a day breathing treatments. we'd put the little drops in the machine and he would wear the darth vader mask while watching a veggie tales video.

the doctors were never able to tell us WHY we had to do that. he didn't have allergies. he didn't have asthma. we found out later, during a growth spurt, that he has sunken chest syndrome where the cartilage on his ribs on one side curves IN instead of OUT. did that cause it? there's one corrective treatment for it...they basically cut you in half and strap a metal rib cage to the cartilage and hope it corrects itself. that's it. we chose not to do that treatment.

does it still affect his breathing? does it make him more at risk for things like corona? i don't know.

last i knew he was living in the bellingham area.

ground zero for the united states.

would anyone even tell me if he got sick?

i doubt it.

my youngest son had early onset puberty at 6 months old. we started seeing pediatric endocrinologists. a few years later he had a reaction to an MMR shot and i discontinued immunizations for years because of how it affected him. this is why i keep my mouth shut about anti-vaxxer stuff. i don't know about for EVERYONE, but i watched it directly and extremely markedly affect my son.

we had *just* moved out of a domestic violence situation. he had JUST started interacting with people. talking. walking. engaging. social. happy. bubbly. got his mmr shot and that all went away.

so we stopped vaccines. instead we did speech therapy, reading therapy, behavior therapy. mentors and tutors and intervention programs at school. we started them again when he was 13 and the local school district stopped allowing medical exemptions for school records.

as he was 13 and in charge of all his medical decisions, i explained why i had stopped the shots, explained what i saw were the risks and the benefits and he made the decision to get caught up on his shots.

within a few months his behaviors had completely changed. his attitude was different. his reasoning, his discussions, his interactions. his behaviors at school started to fall apart. he started running away, getting into drugs, getting into fights, arguing with police officers.

regular teenage hormones + high school + friend influence? or some form of an allergic reaction that altered him again, the same way it did when he was a baby?

I DON'T KNOW.

does it affect his health now? does his pattern of high risk behavior put him more at risk for contracting/spreading this virus?

again, would anyone tell me if he got sick?

my mother is somewhere in alabama. she'll be 65 this year. she has ankylosing spondylitis in conjunction with iritis. the lifetime of medications from controlling those started causing pancreas issues years ago.

if she got sick would anyone tell me?

i have a brother who is a king county deputy.

a cop. in the middle of a pandemic. that started in his county.

and he goes to work every day. then goes home to his wife and 2 kids.

king county sent out a work-from-home notice a while ago. strangely enough his boss didn't agree to allow him to catch bad guys from his recliner. so it's a daily hi-ho and off to work for him.

luckily everyone else is dead.

grandparents all kicked off a long time ago.

i don't have to worry about my dad (also a cop) out in this.

i don't have to worry about my little brother living in seattle without insurance during this.


it's a weird feeling when you're glad people are dead.

and then there's me.

i'm the fucking worthless lump of nothing sitting in my apartment, 99% unaffected by any of what's happening and 100% unable to help with any of it.


i'm still fucking broke.

as much as i want to, i have zero ability to support local businesses trying to get through this.

I WISH i could order food from local restaurants. i fucking LOATHE cooking, even in the best of times.

I WISH i could sign up for online yoga and zumba and work out classes. even if i could afford it, i live on the third floor and we're ALL stuck at home and i really don't think my neighbors want to listen to elephant on parade every day.

i don't know how to sew OR own a sewing machine. even if i did, you really, REALLY wouldn't want a mask made by me.

i could run errands for neighbors but that would include A) talking to my neighbors (the meth heads can fend for themselves), B) going out where all the fucking assholes that AREN'T taking precautions are, and C) doing shopping. something i can barely force myself to do, for myself, unless i am completely out of everything.

i'm not a musician. i'm not an artist. i'm not a comedienne. i don't have anything in particular to contribute to the online community.

my skill set is this:
-sitting completely still reading (the same books over and over) for hours on end.

-professional level social distancing. i've been getting stood up by dates for 21 years. i was social distancing before it was even a thing.

- subsiding on a diet of trash panda food

-hiding my emotions and feelings behind carefully crafted jokes and half stories.



so. yeah. i'm struggling right now.

there's nothing like a global pandemic to show you how completely useless you are.

so.

yeah. 

i'm struggling.

i don't have a particularly positive note to end this on.

and that annoys me.

complain as much as you want AS LONG AS YOU PROVIDE A SOLUTION.

fuck.

ok.

well. i'm still hunting for silver linings.

i'm still trying.

I'M WRITING EVEN WHEN IT'S BAD.

that's something.

i'm being honest.

i'm still putting this out there even though there's a REALLY, REALLY, REALLY loud voice in my head screaming with all it's might FUCK OFF YOU TWAT. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE IT REALLY BAD RIGHT NOW? cry a little more you pathetic useless piece of shit from your comfy, colorful, safe apartment. you still have a job. you have plenty of food. you have puppy snuggles. suck it up buttercup.

but i've listened to that voice for years.

i've done the suck it up buttercup thing.

i've spent way too long keeping silent just because someone else has it worse.

there will ALWAYS be someone who has it worse.

growing up in the 80's taught me that.

DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY STARVING CHILDREN THERE ARE IN AFRICA?

so.

things are bad.

but i'm still here.

i made myself write this.

that's a start.

i knew starting this project there would be a LOT of changes. i knew anything could happen in a years time.

i did NOT expect this.

but.

i mean.

i'll get through it.

it's ok to be a quitter

"you're like a frog with a lighter under you ass."

that's what my brother told me 6 years ago when i left my corporate job.

i'm sure he'd say the same thing to me today if i told him i left my non-corporate job too.

because i did.

i turned in my resignation today. tomorrow will be my last day at work.

this is a hard one. i've been with the company five years. i'm good at what i do. i like half the people i work with. i appreciate that it's a small woman owned business. i appreciate that it's a recession proof job. i appreciate that they paid me well, i had 401k, benefits.

i did not appreciate the hatred and bigotry and prejudice.

i've listened to it for years.

i've tolerated it. i've complained to friends about it. but i didn't stand up against it.

i dismissed it as just how the industry is. it's blue collar. it's old school small town white men. they have their opinions. me saying anything to them is just going to cause a rift in the office, i can take it. i'm tough. water off a ducks back. be the bigger person. it's not like they're directly attacking me. they don't even know i'm bi. they must have forgotten i'm a single mom. they must not realize. they don't know that what they're saying is offensive to someone they work with and sit next to every day.

i ignored the inappropriate jokes. i brushed off the sexual harassment. what was i going to do? that guys are the guys. most of them have been there forever, skilled workers are scarce, nothing is going to change, so just get over it.

i've looked for other jobs in the past. i've thought about leaving. i always just decided i could deal with it. you know. it's fine. i'm just being too sensitive. that's just the way the industrial field is. i'm not going to make waves. i'm not going to be "that" person.

but then last week, a brand new co-worker, someone who's only been with the company part time for a very short while, felt comfortable enough, in the office, in front of the owner to say "i'm prejudice. i'm not afraid to say it."

just bold faced out there.

and i hit my wall. 

it wasn't directed at me. it was a shotgun blast at whatever situation she was frustrated about. but the bigger issue is that she felt comfortable to say it. just bold faced drop it.

THAT got to me.

that means that the whole environment is that way. even still being new, she felt comfortable enough, felt like she was in a group of people where she could just drop something like that. flat out, bold faced, I'M PREJUDICE.

and i can't be a part of that. i can't be in an environment like that. i don't want to be associated with that mindset. i don't want to be around it, and i shouldn't have to listen to it, even if they don't know I'M the one they're talking about.

people are so emboldened lately, they don't care WHO is listening. they don't care if they offend someone. HOW COULD THEY? everyone else HAS to share their opinion.

i shouldn't have to hear about how they would never, ever allow their family to be around someone gay.

SORRY ABOUT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY. HOPE I DIDN'T GET MY BI COOTIES ON YOU.

i shouldn't have to hear about how single moms are single handedly destroying the government by milking the system and cheating to get more money than a hard working regular person.

oh really. i'm just ROLLING in all my single mom/government wealth. LOOK AT ME SCROOGE MCDUCK INTO MY PILE OF SINGLE MOM MONEY. make it rain food stamps bitches!!

oh wait. i put myself through college. i worked since i was 17. i only took assistance for a very short time after leaving an abusive marriage. AND IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER ANYWAY BECAUSE BEING A SINGLE PARENT IS FUCKING HARD AND MAYBE A LITTLE HELP ISN'T THE WORST THING ON EARTH.

it's really fucking hard for me to say. really fucking hard. but i deserve better.

fuck i hate even saying that. i feel like an elitist whiny little bitch saying that.

but really. is it too much to ask for coworkers that respect me and don't talk shit about the core of me? is it too much to want to be in a work environment where i know my coworkers have respect for other people? ESPECIALLY IN THE SERVICE INDUSTRY? do i want to worry about sending a worker to a clients house because they might say something? and i know that's not on me, it's not my company, but it is, because i work there. and i want to be able to tell people where i work without having to apologize.

i don't expect my coworkers to share all my opinions. i don't expect them to agree with me on every topic. or really, considering the group, any topic. but i do expect respect. i do expect to not have to listen to hate all the time. i won't shove my ideas down your throat if you don't loudly proclaim yours across the office, agreed?

and so i meditated on it this week. i wrote about it. i sorted all the different sides. i asked what would happen if i left? what would happen if i stayed? what fears went with it? were they rational? were they reasonable? was it something i could overcome? 

and you know what? i already did once. i already jumped. and it was rough. and i didn't handle it in the most responsible way. but i made it here.

and isn't that part of growing up? learning from what you did before and doing it better the second time?

and isn't this the year of the reboot anyway?
 
i'm so endlessly fortunate to have this opportunity. i have the safety net to be able to step away again. seven years later and my dad is still taking care of me. helping made hard decisions just a little easier. allowing me a way to learn and grow and be a better person.

i can hear him you know.

i can hear my dad talking to me.

"well, that didn't work out so well, did it. what are you going to do now?"

he's been watching me the last 7 years. i've made decisions. i've made mistakes. he's watched it.

and now he's nudging me to try again. it's what parents do. even parents who are gone apparently. they let you try. they let you make mistakes. they watch you plant your ass in the dirt a few times. then they help you get back up, brush the dust off, and come up with a new plan.

so what am i going to do now?

i don't know. i don't even remember what i used to want to be when i grew up. i gave all that up at 17 when i became a mom. taking care of that little person became more important than whatever it used to be i talked about. and then a second little person, and then 19 years later, here we are.

but i think it's about damn time to remember. i think it's time to figure out what i want to be when i grow up.

third time's the charm

well, here it is almost february and i'm still trying to recover from the holidays.

i've been in hiding since november-ish and after recently peeking my head out a bit i'm starting to think long term hiding has some serious perks.

the election, of course, was...well...a shit show. i made the choice to step away from several of my core groups as a result. i'm not a political person. i am not nearly educated enough to know the nitty gritty of the actual policies and practices, and i'm not nearly hard line enough one side or the other to be completely unsettled by the results. as the election and the results have continued (and will for some time) to be the primary focus for the world at large, from both directions, i will be hiding in my corner trying to understand the best i can and rewatching old seasons of friends and roseanne and trying to sort out the inner workings of my personal bubble.

but one event alone was not enough to derail the trainwreck of the holiday season. good old fashioned family shit decided to add to the merriment, as is usual for the holidays.

it's been a hard few months. a really hard few months. there's been a hard learning curve, some pretty heavy introspection, and, as a result, some major life changes are happening.

a brief overview: 13 year olds are very impressionable and not equipped with the best communication tools, 18 year olds are angry and use every tool at their disposal to wreak as much havoc and pain as possible, and 60+ year olds are delusional, destructive, and need to just disappear already.

BUT, even in the worst of times, there's an opportunity to learn and grow. and i'm trying. i know it sounds cliche, but damn, weed makes you have some deep thoughts.

i've been attending meditation classes since...i think around september, working through a book learning how to have better compassion for myself and others. between some great strains of 420, some good meditation/teaching, and actually allowing myself (forcing myself) to look at things instead of just stuffing them down inside to stay in survivor mode there's been some really key things that have opened up for me:

teen parenting SUCKS. i did it. i survived. but DAAAAAMN. all the things they prepare you for: being broke, being a statistic, higher probability of minimum wage jobs, higher probability of being on government assistance, higher probability of...fill in the blank. they give you all the statistics. they tell you how hard it will be. they prepare you for dealing with a crying baby and a toddler.

what they DON'T tell you is how to learn how to make mistakes with someone ALWAYS watching. i didn't get my 20's to screw up financially and figure out how to bail myself out without it affecting anyone. if i screwed up financially (which i did, repeatedly) it affected 2 other people. if i miscalculated my checkbook ledger i had to worry about feeding 2 other people until it could get straightened out. if i wanted a night out, i had to budget how it would affect daycare and buying shoes. my kids have had to hear "we can't afford..." more times than any kid should. they've been with me in grocery stores and restaurants when my card didn't go through. they've learned to check your balance before you grocery shop. granted, not all BAD lessons, but not something that kids need to be worrying about.

i didn't get the crappy roommate time in college to learn how to live with someone. i didn't get the wandering from job to job time. i didn't get the crappy relationships, watching friends settle down, wedding season chaos, ANY of the crap you've seen a million times in a million different sitcoms. i had to consider the repercussions of everything. I had to watch for the ripple effect. i made PLENTY of 20-something mistakes. PLENTY of them. but, for me, they weren't just mistakes. they were memories for my kids. they were moments emblazoned into little minds and cemented as mistakes and flaws. my oldest son has a devastatingly low opinion of me, i think partly because he remembers it ALL. he remembers my marriage and divorce. he remembers moving all the time. he remembers all my mistakes and hates me for them. and i know part of that will assuage with time as he grows and makes his own mistakes, but for right now they're weapons. sharp, heavy, devastating weapons.

the hardest part for me is that i'm still making mistakes. i'm still learning. i'm still trying like fuck to figure out this parenting thing. but i don't have anyone to look to for how they did it. i don't have anyone to ask how they handled situations. i don't have parents or grandparents or friends with older kids. the friends i have with similar aged kids are in the same boat trying to figure things out too. and i know there aren't "ANSWERS" to parenting. but there's people that have been through it before. there's people that remember better what it was like for them (i've blocked out probably 75% of my childhood).

and in my learning, and in my mistakes, i'm doing what i can to correct what's happened and prevent what i can going forward.

one of the biggest things that came out of the disaster that was this holiday season was some GREAT (hard) conversations with my 13 year old. we've come up with several things that need worked on. we're learning better ways to talk to each other and be heard. we're working on sorting through actual memories vs things people have told him/are telling him.

one of the biggest things that came out of this is that he doesn't feel safe in our home. there was a litany of reasons, some reasonable, some irrational, but at the end of the day, he doesn't feel safe and that is a HUGE concern. part of it is basic neurosis (which he gets 100% from me): worrying about if there's a fire- there's only one way out: down the stairs. it's like he crawled inside my mind (or maybe i said something once that he heard and hung onto). one of the few things i DO remember from my childhood is laying in bed at night counting the time between the blinks on the smoke detectors. i used to count the flashes and plan over and over and over what i would do if there were a fire, what i would grab, how i would get out. this is, to this day, the reason i will never, ever, no matter what, sleep naked. i am 100% convinced that the ONE TIME i sleep naked the house will burn and i'll be in the streets naked AND homeless. i still lay awake at night and think of how much time i would have to wake up the teenager, how many things i could grab, what's important enough or not to risk grabbing, and how to get outside.

let's not even go into how much of a living nightmare it was to have my dad die in a house fire.

so, i get it. i worry about if someone breaks into the house how would we get away, how would i stop them and protect the kiddo. i worry about...fuck...you name it, i've worried about it.

so, I GET IT. and i thought it was just me. and i can deal with things when it's just me. but when it's my kid? game changer.

so, he finally tells me he feels unsafe in out house.

game changer.

so. time to find a solution: we're selling the house and finding a better, safer feeling place to live.

we've picked out a VERY nice apartment in the valley- closer to work for me, better high school for the kid, all the amenities that you could want, and SAFER. one floor, better exits, better security, newer construction...the list goes on.

we list the house in a week, the last month has been a process of cleaning/purging/repairing/getting ready.

third time's the charm, right?

and, for those playing along at home, yes, i've attempted this before and failed MISERABLY. i've taken that into heavy consideration, and, with the great help of some good 420 and a few quiet evening, have figured out a few things: last time we weren't ready. we didn't have a reason. we didn't have a plan. i didn't get the idea that i don't need to be friends with the realtor, it's a professional relationship. i wanted an ally, someone that was on my side. sure, that would be GREAT, but this is their JOB. this isn't coffee time with a BFF, this is a business transaction. also, they don't need to like my house AS IT IS. sure, it's hard when people look around and criticize paint colors, when they tell me my taste is too eclectic (weird) to sell the house, when they nitpick all the flaws that trust, i'm WELL aware of. they're job is to make it as appealing to as many people as possible. whomever buys it isn't going to live with me. they're not going to keep the same decor. they're not going to get why i think a shower curtain works in a livingroom. and it doesn't matter.

i don't know if the realtor didn't explain it well to me before or if i just didn't listen, but I GET IT NOW. i'm not showing MY house to people, i'm showing A house to people. yeah, a few things up on the walls to make it feel like a HOME are nice, all my knick-knacks and clutter? not so much.

also? this is probably the first time i've really had the time to fully consider a move. we're not moving because we HAVE to. any deadlines are completely mine. i don't have a landlord going into default kicking me out. i don't have a lease expiring, i don't have any of the reasons that we've moved before.

this time WE CHOOSE. we were able to take time, decide what we want in a new place, research, and really, really be picky. i didn't have to take the first thing i found in our price range and make it work. i didn't have to find the only thing affordable in a college town on a single budget. i didn't have to settle in any way. and i'll tell you what, really getting to pick, with no limits on it? WHOLE DIFFERENT EXPERIENCE. also? apartments now are WAY nicer than the last time we looked. the new concept of "communities" is actually really amazing. common spaces, shared gardens, places you can have guests over, allowing painting and decorating and making it your own home...things have really changed. it's pretty amazing.

this is also the first time we haven't been just shoving things in boxes. i'm taking my time really thinning out, deciding what goes and what goes away. i know the floor plan of the new place, the measurements, so i'm able to decorate in my brain and know what will fit and what will make clutter. i'm able to go through cabinets, get rid of things we haven't touched since we moved into this house. i'm able to catalog (dude, there's some AMAZING smart phone apps for cataloging movies and books- do it, even if you're not moving!).

we have been in control of this move from the very first minute. that's a whole new experience for me. deciding IF we wanted to move, picking out where, picking out when...it's been really healthy and therapeutic in so many ways.

i realized the other night that i never really took buying the house and moving seriously before. to me, buying a house was exactly the same as renting an apartment. i looked around, found one that would work that we could afford, signed a few papers, and moved in. i didn't have to do the mortgage, the inspections, the closing issues. i just handed over a check and they handed me keys. that was literally it. and as i've said before, i didn't go into buying a house for the right reasons. i bought it because i was "supposed" to. this time i'm doing the process because we WANT to. that's a whole different ball of wax.

i feel prepared this time. i know this is for sure. this is happening. this is intentional, thought out, planned.

it's a big change. something good is coming out of a LOT of bad. i'm kind of getting to hit the reset button on losing my dad. and i am eternally grateful for the opportunity. i'm getting the chance to make better decisions with what his death entrusted to me. i have better tools for processing all the emotions and experiences. i have a little more distance from the initial ground zero, better perspective.

so.

here we go.

third time's the charm.

*pushing button*

a change will do you good?

you know those people that do something, every. single. day. for their whole adult life?

the guy that orders a pepperoni pizza every day at 5 (and then the pizza place employee saves the customers life after he notices the order didn't come in. true story).

the old man that has coffee at the same cafe every morning for 30 years.

the person that takes a picture every day for a full year.

the parents that plan ahead and have teachers write letters for their kids starting at kindergarten all the way through high school.

the people that have routine and structure and foresight.


FUCK THOSE PEOPLE.

no. seriously. how do you remember to call your sister every. single. day. at 8 pm? how do you have the money to stop at the same cafe every morning for years? how do you have the endurance to eat the same exact pizza every single day?

outside of the basics of hygeine, there is NOTHING that i can claim to do every day. and let's be really honest, there's some weekends even showering is optional. DON'T JUDGE. but things like exercise? ha ha ha ha ha. meditation. nope. reading the news? when i remember. visiting the same coffee shop? my budget is too...ahem...temperamental for that.

i do like routine, i do like familiar places, but i think i'm still pretty far from what would be deemed predictable or regular.

as inconsistent as i am though, i expect the rest of the world to pause and wait for me to pick up where i left off. AND THAT'S TOTALLY NOT UNREASONABLE. SHUT UP.

one of my favorite bar tenders packed up and moved out of town. BUT HE DIDN'T ASK ME FIRST. sure, i only manage to go out for a drink *maybe* once a month, BUT HE NEEDS TO ALWAYS BE THERE. how dare he have a life and goals and things outside being there for my comfort and familiarity? and now what do _I_ do (insert appropriate whining cry baby noises here). now i have to get used to a new bar tender, or, *gasp* find a new bar?? OH THE HUMANITY!

i don't deal well with things like this. i'm a creature of habit, as infrequent and scattered as those habits are. i'm the asshole that laments a store closed YEARS ago because i liked it and went to it a few times and always meant to go back. WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY ONE STOP THREE YEARS AGO WASN'T ENOUGH TO SUSTAIN THE BUSINESS??

one of the things i admire most in other people is their willingness to change and their ability to step out into new things. good friends packing up and selling their house in idaho to move to seattle with nothing more than an idea that there has to be something better. a bartender packing up his whole family to start a new business in a new town. people moving across states or countries for relationships. WHAT?? how is that even a thing? do you KNOW the risks involved?

i keep going back and forth about whether or not it's time for me to make some changes. maybe pack up everything and head to a new town? it's way too easy to talk myself out of it and into staying where i'm at in the comfortable and familiar, even if it is feeling like a favorite shirt i outgrew a few sizes ago (aka: my entire wardrobe). change jobs? but i have my order of things down here and i'm good at it and it's fluid and familiar.

just when i have myself convinced there's a whole wide world out there, a few things come together at home and i realize i like my little corner of the world and can't imagine leaving it behind. spring time is an especially persuasive sneaky bitch about this. why would you want to leave?? look how pretty and green the yard is! look how lovely the fruit trees are when they're in bloom! look how the house lights up when you open the curtains! why would you ever want to leave?? change jobs? but look how well those three things all worked out and how smoothly all that paperwork went through. and the stupid was at a moderate to low level this week. i can tolerate moderate to low.

one of the worst areas for me when it comes to change is people. i tend to have a nasty habit of dealing with change by disconnecting. one of my worst traits is not reaching out to people. i have forever wanted to be a better person about calling or sending cards or visiting. i buy stacks of cards that collect dust in bins. i intend to call but what do you SAY? i was not a chat-on-the-phone-for-hours teenager. traveling/visiting takes planning and budgeting and vacation time and i'm so worn out from all the excuse making that the actual traveling is just too much.

the last few weeks have been a lot of small changes happening and the idea of a few big ones lingering in the background. it's been stressful. one look at my face will tell you just how stressful. the teenager has been growing up and learning how to stand up for himself. he's been venturing a little further from the house at longer intervals. baseball at the school is now a standard instead of an occasional. "home by dark" shifts by a few minutes each day. he's not letting bullies push him around anymore, he talking back (and occasionally even fighting back). it's been cool to watch. i'm excited to see him grow and become. i don't remember the older one necessarily going through this...at least this pronounced. he started taking the city bus to school and started wanting to spend time "out" with friends but never quite showed the...growing up part of that. maybe i just missed it in the middle of all the fighting and anger and chaos that was happening.

today i had a job interview. i think it went well. but HOLY FUCK that would be a HUGE change. and i don't know if i'm ready for that. i mean...i like my job. i like my work. i'm good at what i do. i like my boss. i like the owner. not a fan of a chunk of my coworkers. but is that chunk enough to leave the comfortable, familiar that i'm GOOD at? it's hard! the ability to make the change is without question. talking to them today i know i could step in blindfolded and do the work they need done. but is that what i want?
how do you make that choice? how do you know when it's right to shake up the status quo and do something new or when you're just running away from problems?

change is good. a chance for a different perspective, growth, all that bullshit. but FUCK is it hard. i don't know what point i'm trying to make besides just plain old fashioned bitching and whining.  i don't have the answers. i don't have any answers. do smurfs have toes? I DON'T KNOW. is the communist party congress in north korea going to start world war 3? it's possible?? what's for dinner? STOP INTERROGATING ME.

i think the only good change is the kind i keep in my car for parking meters. and even that sucks when you forget to lock your doors and random people decide they need it more than you do. or when all the silver bits are gone and you're left with nothing but stupid pennies that don't work in parking meters.

nope. change of all kinds sucks. it is decided.

should i stay or should i go

i used to have a gypsy soul.

i used to not necessarily look forward to moving, but i did enjoy the process of settling into a new place; decorating, making it mine, making all my odd bits and pieces fit into as many different configurations as possible. like a never ending tetris of furniture and stuff: level up: two bedroom apartment: complete. next challenge: three bedroom house. three bedroom house: complete: back to a two bedroom apartment with no dining room: GO!

on and on it went. 13 moves in 13 years. i had boxes labeled in storage that listed exactly what went in each one. at one point i packed and moved a 2 bedroom townhouse while 3 months pregnant in less than 8 hours. BAM. bonus points (well, with help, so maybe not ALL the bonus points.)

i've lost my gypsy soul. i've become lazy or scared or both.

considering different prospects right now is terrifying and exhausting instead of challenging and energizing. as much as i hate/love my house, the thought of leaving it makes my gut twist more than i would expect. i sat in my kitchen the other night contemplating what moving would mean and with a clear view of floors that need repair, walls that are crooked, mouse traps set because 115 year old rock foundations are a neon invitation to the dirty bastards, knowing the carpet upstairs needs replaced because dog, thinking that eventually the roof will need redone, how much work the yard needs, how badly the whole garage needs to burn to the ground and start over...even with the never ending home owners list running through my head, IT'S MINE. warts and all, i can do whatever i want and answer to only me.

aside from the physical logistics of more crap than any two people need, there's STUFF. there's kid sports and friends. there's favorite bars and music venues. i don't go out much, but when i do i know my safe places. I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO FIND NEW ONES. there's familiar restaurants, stores that i know exactly how to find what i need. i don't have a close circle of people, but i do have fringe people that let me hover. i don't want to have to find new hovering people.

and i KNOW. a new city, a new place would be new people, new sports, new school for the kid, away from these assholes i have to fight with constantly. different city would have different music. different beer. i would get to know the stores, i would get to know the restaurants.there would be new and different opportunities. new things to explore and see.

BUT I'M COMFORTABLE HERE.

and i'm really, REALLY fighting with the core issue: am i going to let a few assholes chase me away? i feel like it would be giving up. it's not terrible ALL THE TIME. it's just particularly terrible when it is. but do i just let them win? do i just let them keep being assholes and not stand up for myself and defend all the shit they rail against?

i'm only bi. i'm passable. i have kids. i can blend. obviously. since they run their mouths. it's not like i'm trapped in a closet completely denying who i am or having to hide everything about my life away from this desk. so, SO many people have had to endure much worse. how many people in the military had to live their whole career in fear of being found out? how many people in every day jobs had to go along with jokes and rants because no one could find out. i'm not in danger. they wouldn't hurt me if i flat out said I'M BI AND WHEN YOU SAY YOU WOULD NEVER LET A GAY PERSON AROUND YOUR FAMILY, YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME ASSHOLE. AND GUESS WHO TALKED TO YOUR WIFE AT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY ALREADY? I ALREADY GOT BY BI COOTIES ON HER. HA HA HA. JUST A MATTER OF TIME NOW. i'm not a professional athlete that would lose millions in contracts or promotions. i'm not a public figure that could lose an acting career or appearances. i'm just a secretary, sitting at a desk, with a few assholes that like to rant every now and again. am i really going to let that disrupt my whole life?

am i so scared of change that i'm making excuses and convincing myself i can stick it out? i mean- I LIKE MY JOB. i'm good at it. i have my routine down. i'm comfortable. i have my groove. i have my schedule set, i can take time off when i need for kid appointments. i have retirement, insurance. my tattoos are ok here. i can change my hair and no one even notices. i KNOW the stupidity i'm surrounded by. another place could have a whole new unknown, worse breed of stupidity.

bucket kicking is happening. i just don't know what i'd do if i actually found a bucket with something in it.

happy new year?

well. it's a new year and all that.

as with the last...too many...years, there's really not a great spin I can put on 2014.

january my kiddo moved out, june there was a slight melt down of mental status, november was perhaps the shittiest month on the books of all time, and here we are starting over again. i honestly can't remember any big hi-lights for the year- no major accomplishments, no major life changes, no major decisions or turning points. i dreadfully neglected reading and writing- my two core touchstones. i've been unusually snappy and grumpy (some is normal, more days than not is a bit much). i'm stuck in this angry cloud of depression and desire to change but inability to kick my own ass into gear which leads to more depression- you get the cycle.

and, perhaps, in true 2014 bland bullshit fashion, the final blow was reading my 2015 horoscope (you know those are NEVER wrong, ever) which said i'll be stuck in this funk and my "new year" won't start til august. blah blah blah healing and releasing a grudge bullshit mixed in, but my new year won't start until august 11.

THANKS 2014.

an extended 8 months of bland bullshit.

AWESOME.

what a great fucking start to the year.

SO.

this is where my rebel side starts to kick in.

FUCK YOU 2014. and FUCK YOU 2015 HOROSCOPE.

i don't want to be stuck this way for another 8 months. the last 12 almost did me in. more than once.

more than that: I REFUSE to be stuck this way another day.

i'm not one for resolutions. if i were, this list would be where i'd start.

i AM a person of lists though. and plans of action. i work best with an end goal and a map.

SO. here's my list and my end goal and my map:

list:
1. STOP HATING LIFE
2. start finding things to love about life.
3. be the obnoxious person that loves live SO MUCH it makes other people want to do that too.

plan of action:
1. stop hating myself: when i think of something negative write it down. dissect it. if it's valid find a fix. if it's invalid toss it.
2. list positive things DAILY: maybe even the trite writing on my mirror or post it notes where i can see them- whatever it takes to start infusing POSITIVE things.
3. get back to the core: reading, writing, creating.
4. to steal from nike: JUST DO IT. i've gotten incredibly lazy. i would rather sit and watch reruns on netflix than do...anything. dishes, laundry, exercise. i say i'll start being positive but never actually do it. i say i'll start writing again...after one more episode of scrubs. time to stop the bullshit, be an adult, and just DO THINGS. don't plan on taking the dog for a walk when the weather gets warmer. put on a fucking hat and gloves and go NOW. don't say i'll cook healthy meals after all the dishes are caught up: do the fucking dishes and cook the fucking healthy meal already. stop waiting for the "perfect writing environment" (like the first time i finished the office, or the second time i rearranged it, or the most recent time i bought a brand new writing desk that has yet to be used for writing). JUST FUCKING WRITE. 

map:
1. get a daily journal WITH WRITING PROMPTS since i use that as my main excuse to not write ("i can't think of anything to write about" BULLSHIT. excuse gone.).
2. look in the mirror every morning (you're there putting on make up anyway) and say things i like about me AND BELIEVE ME. that last part is the bitch of the process. how can i argue with myself and call myself a liar or think of all the exemptions to the statement? i do it all the time. own worst enemy and all that.
3. SELF CARE. vitamins. water. real food. friends. activities. shenannigans (there were far too few of those this year).

this isn't a new years resolution. it just happens to be starting now because i'm- i guess i'm finally fucking tired of waiting for the magic button to appear or the magic day on the calendar to pass or the magic whatever to finally happen.

it isn't magic: it's work.
 

and then?

a friend showed me a book her daughter got for christmas: it's a stack of cards with the beginning of a story that leaves off at a turning point with "...and then..."

that's what life feels like lately.

it's been a hard few years.

really hard.

now granted, i take full responsibility for most of the hard stuff- i made the choice to leave work (several jobs actually) and i've always struggled with keeping a balanced budget (easy on paper, not as much in practice). i made the choice to buy and work on a house which we all know hasn't been the best choice of all time. i've made the choice to stay single. i've made so many choices.

this weekend i made another choice.

and i'm really struggling with it.

it's been a hard few years.

in addition to everything else that's been going on, i've been dealing with escalating tension at home with the teenager. i know teenagers are hard, but i had no idea it would be like this.

i don't have what i think is a "normal" teenager. i have a kid who is wicked smart, has always acted more like an adult than a kid, who has always fought to express himself and stand up for himself.

it's not bad things. within reason. but it's not great either.

it's gotten bad.

there's constant arguments. there's been holes put into walls (okay, just one, but still). there's screaming and stomping out. there's slamming doors. i know. it's not that far out of the realm of teenage angst, but it's been increasingly viscous and increasingly dangerous.

it's been talking a hard toll on me, a hard toll on the younger spawn, and i can't believe the teenager has been exactly happy either.

the hard part is that there's been this disconnect- he's GREAT at school. he's getting good grades, his teachers love him, he's respectful, helpful, a model student. he's in debate, he tutors other kids, he has a GOOD group of friends.

then he comes home.

and it's ALL different.

it's constantly bullying and tearing down his little brother. it's being disrespectful and horrible to me. it's refusing to help around the house. it's emotional and physical warfare. it's a constant battle zone. it's vicious, mean, angry, hurtful. if he doesn't get his way, EVERYONE will know about it and be punished in some way.

simple things like shoving his brother for no reason other than being in reaching distance. telling me he hates seeing the same people every day and he's sick of family when asked to do the dishes. telling me i'm stupid for rearranging furniture. it's hitting his little brother for getting something out of the fridge (he's too fat, he doesn't need more food). getting caught in a lie and telling me i need to "just deal with it."

it's been escalating over the last year. it's dangerous. more than once i've had 911 dialed because i honestly thought he was going to come at me.

so i talked to his dad a few weeks ago and asked about switching houses to see if that would help calm things down.

and we decided it would be the best course of action.

so in 4 weeks my teenager will be leaving my home to live with his father.

and i don't know where i'm at with this.

i know it will be better for everyone. it will calm things here. it will make it better for my small spawn. it will make it better for me. i hope it will make it better for the teenager.

but my son is leaving.

and i know it was going to happen in a few years for college.

and i know i'm not a failure as a parent.

and i know it's not permanent and if it doesn't work he can come home. and there's summer break and long weekends and it's not that far away really.

but.

my son is leaving.

and i worry that he thinks i don't love him or i'm punishing him or giving up. and i worry that the little spawn worries i'll send him away if he becomes challenging. and i worry that it won't be better at his dads house but i won't be able to help (there will still be phone and email, but you know...HELP, right there in the moment).

and i'm heartbroken that i couldn't make this better. i couldn't be a good enough mom to make him not hate living here or not be so angry all the time.

and i worry that i didn't do enough. i didn't try enough things. i didn't research enough to find more solutions. i didn't MOM enough.

and i know that there's a reason there's supposed to be TWO parents. i know that it takes a village to raise kids because one person doesn't have all the answers.

but it still sucks.

it sucks that he's hurt and angry and i couldn't fix it.

it sucks that i'm losing one more part of my core.  there's not much left.

and i'm scared. and i'm sad. and i'm angry. and i'm hopeful. and i don't know.

i'm at this turning point in the story. and i'm waiting to see what happens.

so.

2014: "...and then?"