Sick as a dog. A puppy? 6 kittens?

In spite of my denial and then my pleading, the sky has started to show the signs of the forthcoming Thursday. It’s quarter after 7 and I’ve been up for almost 2 and a half hours sick on the couch. My nose is raw from the boxes of tissues, my head is throbbing from the pressure and sleep eluded me all night. A small consolation is that I’ve stopped shivering.

I can’t help but sit here and think about all the work that didn’t get done yesterday and the mounting pile that I will not get to today. I wonder if there’s a connection to anxiety and recovery time? If so, I may be doomed to be sick forever.

Even the internet seems boring to me. Normally I would be looking at the daily news but that’s all I’ve been watching for hours. Although it’s endlessly entertaining to watch a video clip of Jimmy Buffet falling off a stage in Australia, most of the news is uninteresting and it’s repetition is starting to bother me.

I wish I had some sleeping pills.

Regurgitating isn't writing

This would be the time that I should be drinking my Red Bull to keep me going for the rest of the night. Last night it worked perfectly. I got home from work and with some pressure off I shoveled the many inches of snow in front of my apartment. Then I shoveled the neighbors steps which is only fair because it’s been at least 6 months since we’ve had a front staircase of our own and they’ve never hollered at us for using theirs. Then I shoveled in front of their house, then the house on the other side, then a path to my car, then little paths to the street for people to cross. I was going to shovel the whole Mexican War Streets!

When that started to hurt my back, I put down my shovel and tried to make a snowman from the big pile of snow I’d made. It was not the right kind of snow and just crumbled in my gloves. Not to be deterred I set off on a walk down the street. I’d worked up enough heat that I wasn’t cold and I took off walking and kicking the snow as I went. It was great kicking snow! I’d crossed the street and was walking towards the theater when I heard the recognizable call of “Kaaate!” Hmm… I think this is the first time I ever mentioned my name. Anyway, I looked down the street I’d just been on and saw Blake stumbling towards me. He was pretty drunk and on his way to the store for cigarettes. I asked him how he knew it was me. Simple. He said “You’re the only one out late at night kicking around snow like a kid.”

Dumb

There isn’t much to blog about tonight. It’s a cold snowy night in Pittsburgh and I am constantly refreshing my web browser set to the school closings page. I’m waiting to see if the schools scheduled to be at the 12:30 matinee performance will be cancelled. I am anxious to get out of this building and I’m hoping for the cancellation that will allow me a few more minutes in bed in the morning. I also need a drink of whisky.

Haiku - January 20

I search for reasons

Why my heart sinks suddenly

They are never found

Haiku - January 19

When I move too fast

The motion light detects me

And I am starled

It's lonely in the basement office

I’m feeling better now. I drank the remainder of the liquor in the apartment and fell asleep before it took hold. The morning came early but without the familiar pain in my head that last night’s drinking usually invites. These days I would fall into the category of “morning person” and as much as I hate falling into categories, this is one that wouldn’t bother me so much.

The night allows all the sediments of anxiety, anger and frustration, fear to sink to the bottom and in the morning it all feels clean and new. I could make anything of today that I want. I am usually eager and aware quickly as to not miss a moment. During the day I will inevitably stumble and kick up some of the dirt from the days before. It will start lightly and I try to tread carefully. At some point though, when the day before me is short and I start to see my plans becoming impossible I stop caring about all the mud in the water because it doesn’t seem like I could fix it if I tried. Then I quietly fall asleep, scared that I may not wake up.

Checking the clock it is 8:05p and I am sitting in my dark office alone where I have been for most of the day. 12 hours now in fact. I turned off the overhead fluorescent lights to give my eyes a break and a change of scenery. My desk is still a mess and it’s the time of day when I see my to-do list stall. I’ve got 2 more hours in front of me to try to make something of my time here and I’m not feeling very optimistic. My lack of exercise and poor diet choices make me feel worse and I’m worried about slipping into another mood.

Haiku - January 18

I wrote some haikus for the missing days, but I don't know where they are.

Shining in the sun

Dangerous ice before me

Nothing can save me

Thanks for splitting the check

Tonight my mind is dizzy with whiskey and my ears are filled with the new Social Distortion album. My apartment is tidy for everyone but me and I’m not sure where to start.

The disappointment of now is very small in comparison to the progress and happiness of the overall. But I’ve chosen to write at the moment when being let down is hitting me hardest, that moment right after the punch to the gut. Why do I write now? Why do I only write when I’m upset? Right now it’s because my options are punching the wall and breaking my fingers or pounding out my frustration on these keys.

I just finished a beer and dinner with someone I’d considered one of my closest friends for a year now. Yeah, last year started off with some whiskey and nights spent in my bed but they were followed by bright mornings of optimism and long days of conversation. It was the sharing of our fears and dreams that brought us close to each other. Of course I knew that we’d never progress past friends. He’s a musician and they are notorious for leaving broken hearts behind them. I wasn’t going to fall for any dreams of a future with him. Still, we shared deep personal thoughts and frequently cried on each other’s shoulders or watched muppet movies.

Tonight we sat there speechless. After I told him that we were not going to end up drunk and in bed with each other he became cold and distant. He hardly said another word and ate his 8 wings like he was hunting and killing the chicken with his own hands. He says he wish he’d known before coming out. Implying not so subtly that he would not be wasting his time if there wasn’t a chance of him sticking it in me tonight.

One of my first thoughts was that my ex was right. My friends who are guys just want to fuck me. No one has proved that as much as the guy tonight.

He walked me home. He apologized for being an asshole. He’s an asshole but I’m a fool.

I thought that Don wanted to marry me. I thought Tony was my friend. How many more of my beliefs are just smoke in my eyes?

My mind is stuck in cement

My work flow is now stagnant. It’s 4:00p and I look behind me at all of the work I haven’t done today. How have I possibly sat at this big desk for all of these hours and have nothing to show for it? And what bad timing!

Work is busy. I’ve got schedules to get out and settlements to finish and invoices to sort through, not to mention the 2011-2012 season and budget looming over my head. Some of these to-dos are already in the red category. I’d also feel better if I could work ahead and be better prepared for the rest of the spring season.

I’ve been drinking Pepsi Max all day and it’s not helping. I’ve gotten up and walked around. Nothing is helping right now. My mind feels cloudy and tired. I think I might have overdosed on emotions recently. This feels like an emotional hangover. The highs and lows simultaneously just intensify the whole experience and I’m more aware than ever of an impending explosion. You’d think I wouldn’t be bogged down with everything after how much I sobbed last night. Maybe I’m just still internally processing it all.

This writing certainly isn’t helping me. I think I’m going to give up.

Haiku - January 13

My mind is tired

Thoughts easily wander off

And my day drags on

Haiku - January 12

Empty of my tears
I arrive with open heart
We will be ready

Haiku - January 11

My thought yesterday:

Remember to write haiku

Then I went to sleep

Haiku - January 10

Did you notice that?

My bathroom has a secret

It's stealing my time

Pour it down my throat please.

I was invited to a fetish masquerade today via friend on Facebook. She’ll be modeling some stunning chain mail lingerie. I’ve never expressed to this friend that I’d like to be tied up and thrown around a bit but maybe I’ve given off that vibe or she’s just being friendly and inviting me. It’s in Cleveland. I don’t know anyone in Cleveland. It’s on Saturday night and I don’t have anything going on Saturday night.

So… despite the inappropriateness of it, I looked at the website and went through some of the galleries. Then I remembered internet histories and how close this comes to looking at porn at work. I closed the windows. But it did get my mind started… and other things…

Haiku - January 9

This world is a dream

I never want to wake up

Always remember

What the hell are we doing here!!!

This is my first prompt blog post so forgive me if it doesn’t make much sense. If I think about it, nothing really makes sense right now. I had imagined a straight course for myself, saw it clearly in front of me. I made present decisions with an eye focused on the future. It was the first time for me. I dreamed and believed. Then quite suddenly my chance for my ideal future was removed. I didn’t see it at first. When it started to come clearly into my view I was in denial. I could not possibly have been wrong again. I resisted. I fought back violently. I drank.

Then, almost as suddenly, I realized that it was going to be ok. Not only am I going to be ok, I believe, whole heartedly that I am going to be happy. Everything I’ve wanted is right within my grasp, quite literally at times. And each day that goes by I am less and less frightened of moving in that different direction.

Do not mistake my current optimism for an unbridled charge towards the future. Quite the contrary, I intend to take every step slowly, calculated, and with the all the thought and care that will make each decision one that is certain to last.

So maybe everything makes sense right now.

Haiku - January 8

Nerves a tight bundle

My future is next to me

I reel lightheaded

Haiku - January 7

A sword swallower

Disappearing magic wand

Because work be damned

Haiku - January 6

To love a snowflake

A relationship so short

You must jump wildly

Haiku - January 5

We held each other

Like the whole world was ending

And we will survive

This is unlike you.

I have set up my camp in the main lobby of Magee Women’s Hospital. There’s a padded bench built into a fountain in an out of the way corner. The fountain has a small waterfall and a bronze statue of a young girl holding a vessel and walking stick. My backpack is providing the support so that I may recline and be comfortable. The large book I’m attempting to read, The Fountainhead, rests at my feet for a moment and my trusty Blackberry balances on my leg. Below it, there is a restaurant style paging device that will tell me when it is my turn to go strip out of my clothing and put on a piece of paper and wait some more for my pelvis to be slathered in goo and the device pressed around looking for my IUD. I’m starting to think this isn’t worth it.

All around me are people in various stages of what this hospital is known for, making babies or the people that assist in the process. I used to not like pregnant women because they weirded me out. They were pods for a tiny growing being inside of them. It all sounded so alien, so gross. I’ve always hated people in love because if I noticed them, it meant I wasn’t one of them. The idea of getting married and having a baby just wasn’t a story that I needed to be mine. It didn’t sound like it had enough adventure and risk and passion for life.

Yet, here I am, months away from my 30^th birthday, looking forward to an open field. The whole world is still I front of me for the taking but now my eyes see down the street at the house for sale. The simple truth is that a year ago I decided I wanted to find my partner and settle down and yes, have a baby. It seems ridicules that the fingers that are typing this are the same ones that have written over and over how this life wasn’t for me.

Now this view is what I want and it seems more unlikely than ever before. It feels like life is punching me in my face repeatedly and laughing. I could have had this life, I could have had it all, but I was stubborn and head strong and I screwed it all up. Did I miss my chance?

And if I seem to have another chance, will I evaluate that objectively or will I rush towards it because that must surely be last chance?

These are the things that worry me these days. My age. My future. What I really want.

Yes, sitting in a waiting room ruined my day. But it’s only because I’m thinking and thinking ruins my day.

Hey you! Are you reading?

This is my first blog since giving him the address to this page. I’d thought about it from the moment I wrote down the first word. I wanted him to want to know what was going on in my mind. I wanted to let him know when he was hurting me and why. I didn’t though. My reasoning was probably two fold. I am writing here solely for myself and I didn’t want this to be a place where I had a specific audience. The other reason was simpler. I thought he’d be mad. He’d be mad that I was so sad and lonely and angry and that I hadn’t really cut back on my drinking.

His response was a straightforward question: “Why are they all bad? – But you never write about happy stuff.” He was right. I try sometimes. I write about the projects that are unwittingly pulling me through my depression but that’s far from happy stuff. The truth is that my situation, the fear, the embarrassment, and the unknown cloud even the happy times that I’ve been having.

Today I could write about how the nightmares are starting to get worse again, how they’ve started me talking in my sleep again, the way my back aches, the way I want a drink right now. I could write about the chill in the air that numbs my face and the dark clouds that refuse the sun entry today.

Instead I’ll ponder the direction of this blog now that I know he might read it. I’ve decided it will stay on the solemn course that has been set. I’ve never censored myself for any other reason and I’m not going to start now.

But maybe, just maybe, I’ll try to start writing about the bits of happiness in my life.

Haiku - January 4

Our slumber upset

Morning arrived uneasy

No resolution

Haiku - January 3

Dark nightmares detroy

My day never gets started

Mind is so clouded

Haiku - January 2

Vodka Gatorade

To wash down my vitamins

Good morning, Sunday.

Haiku - January 1

The year has begun

Words do not come easily

Heavy hearts and minds

Bleed me

I believe I pushed my happiness a bit too far. I let it control my life for a moment and I’m now suffering the consequences. Main consequence today: guilt. In order to try to fulfill my own New Years fantasy, I let a good friend wait for me at midnight and never showed. I also got too intoxicated while at work. This is unlike me. I am selfish but I’m not that selfish. I can be relaxed at work but not irresponsible. Maybe I can blame the liquor but it really all comes back to me and my decisions.

I’m not sure how to reconcile this to myself. Everyone that knows me knows that I am harder on myself than anyone else. And my friend said it was ok but it’s not ok. How do I punish myself?

I suppose this sour mood that is ruining my day is my reaction. I’m sitting in front of the tv watching the beginning of the Winter Classic that is taking place at Heinz Field right now. I really wanted to be there. I really wanted to go or be a part of it. I wanted to see the alumni game, I wanted to go ice skating on the temporary rink. He’s there right now with Kara. I’ve been getting updates all day but not a single “I wish you were here.” I’ve never gotten one and now I never will from him. Now we’re “just friends.”

I not so secretly hope that his seats are horrible and it rains and we lose. I want him to be miserable. I want everyone to share in my misery for a moment.

I’m being selfish and horrible again. I feel like I want to hook myself up to a machine that pulls all my blood out, cleans out the negativity, and puts it back in. Yes, I need new blood. Or something…