Saturday morning: Wake up, start laundry, eat leftover pasta, cut coupons, go back to bed, have sex, nap, wake up, switch laundry, 4 shots, 2 cheese bisquits, Bruce Hornsby video on TV, internet wasting.
Waiting for him to wake up. Knowing he wants to sleep in.
It’s just that I’m awful at being alone.
/\ And I suppose that was the highlight of the day. My mood kept deteriorating, my mind kept running and it climaxed in a fit in the shower. I’d much rather not be writing any of this but I’ll never be able to keep track of the timing if I don’t note it somewhere.
So I will spare myself the details.
Now it is Monday morning and I’m already anxious and upset. Last night was filled with nightmares and I woke up never wanting to let him go. But I made it to work and although my internet-clicks haven’t been terribly work related, sometimes just showing up is a feat. I’ve got 4 meetings to get through today and two crews working on stage. I don’t want to see another human being and I’d rather sit on a couch in a daze all day.
➢ And by 9a I want to be in tears. Responsible for cleaning up my job and not being given the respect of talking to me about it.
This can’t go well
Monday, August 22, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
I'm a fat 13 yr old
And on a mostly day off… I’m 6 shots of whiskey in, getting emotional at a tween movie haven eaten pasta and cookie dough. And depression makes you convince your fiancé to grab fast food on the way home.
I’ve got two hours to get to work.
Time for another shot.
I’ve got two hours to get to work.
Time for another shot.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Come Here to Wallow With Me
I've got some new internet style stuff going on in my life. I've got a website. And a facebook page for that website. And a vimeo page for my videos. And I post and blog about that stuff and it's all really exciting.
So I sat down to write a little on this blog, but all I could think about to write was how work is stressful beyond belief, my feet are achy and my lips are getting chapped.
Is this blog going to be a negative blog? Is this the only place I'm going to feel comfortable letting out all those frustrations with my life?
Think about Facebook. People are always posting happy stuff about how much fun their having or how they checked in somewhere awesome with their hot girlfriend or some nonsense. It's not real at all. It's what they want people to see. They want people to think they are happy and awesome and cool and busy and successful and hot. It's why they post those facebook pictures taken with their hand held over their head. It makes their fat face look skinnier.
But don't worry, here on this blog. My face is still fat.
So I sat down to write a little on this blog, but all I could think about to write was how work is stressful beyond belief, my feet are achy and my lips are getting chapped.
Is this blog going to be a negative blog? Is this the only place I'm going to feel comfortable letting out all those frustrations with my life?
Think about Facebook. People are always posting happy stuff about how much fun their having or how they checked in somewhere awesome with their hot girlfriend or some nonsense. It's not real at all. It's what they want people to see. They want people to think they are happy and awesome and cool and busy and successful and hot. It's why they post those facebook pictures taken with their hand held over their head. It makes their fat face look skinnier.
But don't worry, here on this blog. My face is still fat.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Symptoms
Loud angry music
Ripping off all my nails
Drinking slowly and constantly
Junk food
Insecurity
Thinking about tattoo
Can't sleep
Awful sleep
Ripping off all my nails
Drinking slowly and constantly
Junk food
Insecurity
Thinking about tattoo
Can't sleep
Awful sleep
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Where did I put those nice clothes?
I just gave my patient fiancé a speech about how and when I lost my passion for theater. You see the show just started and I don’t care. When I was first a PM I was making it up as I went along. Each day was a different adventure and no matter what bs I was spouting from my mouth, I was confident about it. I look back at those times and I am amazed I even got through it. I look at that small stage that’s only 25’ deep and wonder how I did 3 full stage trusses with moving lights.
One thing I pointed out was something my dad taught me. You should dress up for every show. If the audience will ever see you, you must look put together. He would wear a nice black t-shirt and a suit jacket for every show. I would wear heels and a skirt if I was running spotlight. I was 100% invested in the show, no matter who or what it was. I would superman change backstage at the last minute and turn heads as I walked out of the dressing room. I was accessible and forward. I was in charge.
Somewhere along the line I lost that. I lost the meaning that each show held for me. I lost the feeling of accomplishment that the applause gave me.
This week is a long week for me, somewhere between 70-80 hours. I’m going to work to try to find some meaning in those hours. I’m going to be available all the time. And for opening night, I’m going to dress up. And the second show. And the third and last show. I’m going to meet everyone in the cast and let them know who I am. I’m going to be a part of something.
One thing I pointed out was something my dad taught me. You should dress up for every show. If the audience will ever see you, you must look put together. He would wear a nice black t-shirt and a suit jacket for every show. I would wear heels and a skirt if I was running spotlight. I was 100% invested in the show, no matter who or what it was. I would superman change backstage at the last minute and turn heads as I walked out of the dressing room. I was accessible and forward. I was in charge.
Somewhere along the line I lost that. I lost the meaning that each show held for me. I lost the feeling of accomplishment that the applause gave me.
This week is a long week for me, somewhere between 70-80 hours. I’m going to work to try to find some meaning in those hours. I’m going to be available all the time. And for opening night, I’m going to dress up. And the second show. And the third and last show. I’m going to meet everyone in the cast and let them know who I am. I’m going to be a part of something.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Pity Party on the 3rd floor
Feeling kind of down tonight. My day off wasn’t as distracting as I wish it’d been and I’ll be back at work sooner than I’d like. I got a few things done but it didn’t seem to upset the stack of insecurities. Tonight is also a busy night in Pittsburgh, Death Cab for Cutie, Wiz Kahlifia, Skyblast with the Pirates, Batman filming with the Steelers, and dozens of other small activities. And I’m on the couch. Because I don’t like going out but I wish I did. And I’ll be able to see the fireworks from our third story window but I really wish I was feeling them burst in my chest, maybe listening to a band.
So in general I’m just feeling bad for myself.
So in general I’m just feeling bad for myself.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Disconnected
Yesterday my fingernails defeated me. And I ripped them all off. I hadn’t ripped them off since May. That’s 3 months and I’m amazed it lasted that long. And saddened because they’re not there anymore.
And I’ve been sitting at work since 8:30 and all I’ve done was go to the bagel place and eat a lot of food. And s………
And now it’s 6:45p and I’m still at work although I mentally checked out a while ago.
I’m sitting here watching the huge sparkly diamond on my finger, slightly thinking about a wedding. There’s so many decisions and they all cost money.
And I’ve been sitting at work since 8:30 and all I’ve done was go to the bagel place and eat a lot of food. And s………
And now it’s 6:45p and I’m still at work although I mentally checked out a while ago.
I’m sitting here watching the huge sparkly diamond on my finger, slightly thinking about a wedding. There’s so many decisions and they all cost money.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Wedding Planning
What I want out of a wedding:
All our family and friends in one place
A pretty dress
A delicious cake
A good meal
What I don’t want out of a wedding:
An ulcer
Years of debt
A conga line
Forced smiles
All our family and friends in one place
A pretty dress
A delicious cake
A good meal
What I don’t want out of a wedding:
An ulcer
Years of debt
A conga line
Forced smiles
No Hope
I took Monday off this week. I tried to relax and renew at my future in-laws house. But seeing as it wasn’t an official day off and no one really knew where I was or if I was going to be in the building, I had a hard time relaxing. Tuesday I was back at work. Got in a bit later than I wanted and was floored by a disrespectful e-mail from a co-worker. It set the tone for the day and it never got better. I felt defeated and not appreciated. I didn’t love this job anymore and it upset me to no end. How am I supposed to be an inspiring leader when I hate coming in every day? The obvious solution was to waste most of my day doing nothing at work, brooding, and then come home and drink myself shitfaced and weepy. This was the direct cause of yesterday’s disaster which was my throwing up continuously for 8 hours. The only brightness of yesterday was my amazing fiancé bringing me grape propel and velveeta shells and cheese. He took care of me like I was legitimately sick, not hungover from my self-punishment the night before.
So now it’s Thursday morning. I got to work at 7:30 and I’ve got 4 days of work to do today. It’s insurmountable. The feeling of deadlines on my shoulders, disrespect in co-workers glances, and my own feel of self-worth makes this day seem impossible. It’s a horrible cycle that can only end badly.
So now it’s Thursday morning. I got to work at 7:30 and I’ve got 4 days of work to do today. It’s insurmountable. The feeling of deadlines on my shoulders, disrespect in co-workers glances, and my own feel of self-worth makes this day seem impossible. It’s a horrible cycle that can only end badly.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
I'm not as still as the water
“It’s all happening.” I can here him typing numbers and letters and now they’re in color and at the end of it all the website looks different. And I sit here and my heart is getting closer and closer to spilling out of my chest. For the brief second that I was a rockstars girlfriend, it was everything they say it was. Traveling, booz, music, and that feeling when you’re at the place where so many people dream about being.
And it all seems fitting as I sip a bottle of vodka from the top.
And I wouldn’t change where I am for the world. Because now it’s a new adventure and I’m terribly exciting to begin and to keep going.
You see, I’ve got big adventures coming. Getting married to my true love! Having a baby! But I still like to remember the time that a parking spot was drawn out behind Keith Urban’s tour bus that said “DJ’s Girlfriend” in it. And the acceptance to the fact the I was the girlfriend of a married man.
And sometimes I feel stupid and that I can’t do enough. I’m sitting here fucking around with a picture and he’s still juggling number and letters. And I don’t understand it. And so maybe I’m just not going to understand.
And… sometimes I get an idea and I stand up quickly and I move to the left and I trip over my backpack; So I throw it. But then I realize it might have been my bra that tripped me so I violently throw it towards the discarded backpack.
And then I realize how dizzy I am. And it registers as a mix of guilt and nostalgia. And I totally acknowledge the headache and nausea that tomorrow brings. And if I could I would start driving now and stop when I found nice people and a nice place for us to live.
And my selfishness is amplified.
So my guilt is amplified.
And I become aware of my surroundings……
Tomorrow is a full day of work, and the laundry I didn’t do, and the cleaning I didn’t do.. and the future…. And he’s stilling typing letters and numbers…
And “It’s all happening.”
And it all seems fitting as I sip a bottle of vodka from the top.
And I wouldn’t change where I am for the world. Because now it’s a new adventure and I’m terribly exciting to begin and to keep going.
You see, I’ve got big adventures coming. Getting married to my true love! Having a baby! But I still like to remember the time that a parking spot was drawn out behind Keith Urban’s tour bus that said “DJ’s Girlfriend” in it. And the acceptance to the fact the I was the girlfriend of a married man.
And sometimes I feel stupid and that I can’t do enough. I’m sitting here fucking around with a picture and he’s still juggling number and letters. And I don’t understand it. And so maybe I’m just not going to understand.
And… sometimes I get an idea and I stand up quickly and I move to the left and I trip over my backpack; So I throw it. But then I realize it might have been my bra that tripped me so I violently throw it towards the discarded backpack.
And then I realize how dizzy I am. And it registers as a mix of guilt and nostalgia. And I totally acknowledge the headache and nausea that tomorrow brings. And if I could I would start driving now and stop when I found nice people and a nice place for us to live.
And my selfishness is amplified.
So my guilt is amplified.
And I become aware of my surroundings……
Tomorrow is a full day of work, and the laundry I didn’t do, and the cleaning I didn’t do.. and the future…. And he’s stilling typing letters and numbers…
And “It’s all happening.”
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)