Monday, March 7, 2011

Scrambled eggs

Not what I'm eating (though I luuuv scrambled eggs...and also poached eggs. And omelets and hard-boiled eggs. Okay, this post is not really about eggs.), rather what my brain has been feeling like lately. SCA-rambled.

WORK. My god, I hate that place. Today I'm home "sick." Seriously, I have never called in "sick" so much at a job as I have at this place. It's not really my nature to do this but I just cannot CANNOT stand it much longer. I am so fucking miserable there. So get out already, right?? Oh okay, because there is a line of super-fun, interesting, inspiring jobs BANGING AT MY DOOR (and offering to pay me a boatload of money). And my dear J. is terribly underemployed. And we have a mortgage and a car payment and credit cards and student loans, et cetera, et fucking cetera. Just like everyone else, nothing unique in this situation I know, but this is my current reality and it is not so easy.

PHYSICAL. I just don't FEEL that great these days. I'm overweight, yes, and so that has its own issues (high BP, high cholesterol) and I've been having headaches off and on and my neck is sore, and my hip is bothering me...STRESS MUCH?? Would exercise and less stress help? Oh, I do believe they would. Do I engage in increasing the one and lessening the other? Oh hellllll no. Too gd much work.

MENTAL. I went to my therapist Saturday morning after having taken a little sabbatical from her. Well, not from her so much as from IT - the therapy. I sat down and she said, swear to God, "Do you want to just start crying now to get it out of the way?" She has got my number. I think my $45 co-pay just covers the cost of the tissues I use. I talked with her about coming on a monthly basis, as maintenance, because I find that what happens is I start feeling like a scuzzy bathtub where the mildew and soap scum start building up and the longer I go without a good cleaning, the harder it is to get rid of that stuff and the more cruddy I feel. I left her office feeling clean(er) and lighter. (This analogy came to because J. scrubbed the shit out of our tub this week and it took him a solid hour to get it back to its original color because of all the build-up. How the fuck does a tub get so dirty? We're bathing for pete's sake...I just don't get it.)

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