Ah... zee life. She is so fickle this mistress. How kind! How cruel! How often unsettling. And yet, we brave on through the blasts and the pats on the head and the kicks in the teeth and the elbows to the ribcage and the warm, friendly smiles and the embraces of friends and loved ones and the wicked knocks on the noggin. Yes, how we brave on each day. Laughing in the face of idiocy. Standing at the top of our mountains, surveying all the beauty and destruction that surrounds us.
It's been a rough couple of weeks, kids. Like serious. I really wasn't sure how I was going to come out on the other side but here I am. Still standing. My soul's a little battle-worn. My heart's a little achy today but that's more my own fault than anyone else's. I drank a lot last night. *shrug*
I won't go into the details of the work sitchy that caused the battle scars. There's simply too much. But, through it all... through a massive screw-up on my part, through the WORST project of my professional life ever (which is not over and nor shall it be for a loooong while), I still somehow have retained the confidence of my boss and the confidence of the high-est up I have contact with (which is pretty high). I'm still not sure I want to stay where I am and may yet begin preparations for taking my leave of that joint - I'm not sure but this would be the battle that broke the camel's back.
Thanksgiving was... strange this year. I was someplace else all day long. I was bored. I was sullen. I wasn't really there the whole time. I sort of enjoyed myself, mostly in those moments I escaped from my brain. But, ultimately, the evening would end badly. I hadn't cried in months. I had been totally unable. Even when Jerome died. Even when Mr. Houdini left again. I didn't shed a single tear. During the worst stress at work, not a droplet. I'd tried. Laurel and I had had a couple of wine nights and boy o boy if there's anything just behind the dam, usually that'll do the trick but no, nothing. Well, last night the dam broke. I cried my little heart out. I sobbed into my pillow. All the stress and angst and fear and failure and cruelty and professional vendetta leveled against me at work came pouring out. All the fear and happiness and feeling like I'm maybe out on a limb where my "romantic" life is concerned came pouring out too. Baby-bathwater kind of situation. All the annoyance and family grievance. All the feeling like I'm not in control lately. All the everything. Oh, the everything of it all has stained my pillowcases. It felt really, really good. I started laughing in the middle of it. Laughing and crying at the same time. It seems like your head should explode in that situation. Kind of like sneezing and hiccuping at the same time but it was really wonderful. If you can ever manage it, I highly recommend it. Highly cathartic.
I woke up out of sorts, terribly early, brain churning. Alcohol and melatonin seems not to be the most intelligent combination. I'll have to remember that next time I'm drunk and haven't been sleeping. Big red letters: FTN! This is when I chose to send a couple of emails. Not the smartest thing but my brain was up-ending itself and I just HAD to communicate with someone in particular. *shakes head* Silly girl. Silly, silly, tweaky girl. And I wondered this morning, in the throes of it, if I was being tweaky and thought to myself, "No!No, you just have something you want sorted out rightnow so you just neeeeeeed to speak to this person who has a shared interest in the perspective." Perhaps. Yes, perhaps that is so but looking again at the messages... which I am about to do... just now, in fact... and okay, maybe it's not as bad as I thought. I was tweaking, though. Totally, totally tweaking. Rapturous of my emotions. Needed to evangelize. Puh. To quote myself: "...sometimes the universe does not accomodate my emotional schedule." It'll keep. Hopefully he will.