Thursday, October 4, 2012
interesting lunch
I worked at a local government location and one of the clients was drunk. There might be other issues, but the alcohol certainly did not help.
I am always conflicted when this happens. I certainly want to help, and I most certainly want to keep the person off of the road, but I can never be certain what the client is able to take from our work together, although, if I am doing my best for that person, maybe that is enough.
Calling the police is often not reasonable because the intoxicated person is gone before the officers arrive.
At this agency today, one of their employees was conducting a seminar and had a drunk attendee, as well.
This is happening often enough that I am thinking that when someone is actively behaving as though intoxicated and smells strongly of booze that I should just ask him/her to reschedule. Geez, I hate even thinking about having to do this. Man.
Maybe it is time to submit another article to the newspaper.
Lunch, following that interesting morning was even more so. I met two friends at the favorite restaurant of one of them. One of the many interests we hold in common is poetry. We all write it, publish, and they perform. One facilities poetry, musical and performance art events, and I guess it is my turn to host one, something that he likes to do for particular types of, styles of performers.
I am slightly concerned about having a house full of complete strangers, though. Huh.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
life altering ideas
Dear Diary,
I am a kind of pain in the ass about this stuff, even to myself.
First of all, it is the judgmental part of me that keeps poking her nosy, opinionated, assholish self into all sorts of places. Most of the time I can hold my peace, bite my tongue, get the hell over myself. Sometimes I cannot.
Oh, like when I hear someone being judgmental about someone else, particularly when that person being judged is simply different in whatever, life practices, beliefs, how she/he does things or does not do things, even things like how someone dresses or shops or the things she/he has that the other person does not believe she/he should have (maybe no one should have) if she/he were as dedicated to whatever the judger thinks should have some kind of dedication. Like being green, or living simply, or technology, or how she/he raises their children/chickens/goats/vegetables.
I have to be honest and say that I cannot think of an example right now, but I am certain that my inner judge is going to rear her ugly opinions any moment now.
So, that is my first life altering idea. I will work, like seriously and with fullness of intention and heart, work on not being so judgmental. About anything.
I pretty much can do that at work, even though some of the front desk people are driven to distraction by some of the weird stuff my clients do. I can laugh it off because I have been doing this for a long time, and they have not. All they see is how disruptive these people can be, and I am in complete agreement about that. People, no matter their disability or whatever it is that compromises their ability to behave well in public, still have to behave well in public.
I might have mentioned this already, but I had a client last week who was very difficult. She lied to several people and caused trouble, plain and simple. When she and I were finishing, she commented that she would be making a complaint report the following day about one of them. I told her that if she behaved only half as scattered and rude with them as she did in my office (well, sort of an office, more of a bat cave), that she owed them a huge apology.
She gave two of them little apologies, but it was probably more than anyone had asked of her in a long time. She and I have lots of work in our future, and I have to say that I was, still am, proud that she did at least try. Frankly, that is all we should be expecting from other people, that they just try their best. Maybe that is what we should be expecting from ourselves, as well.
So, no more, or at least a dramatic reduction in the judging that I do, even the judging thoughts in my head, which is where they mostly are, but they should not be there either.
I want to give this a few weeks, see how I do and if I can sustain being a nicer person, before I move on to one of the several dozen life altering ideas I want to incorporate into my life. One of them has to do with chocolate, but I am planning on deliberately failing that one. Sort of sweet, dark, melty, bitter, soul-supporting lovliness. Not gonna do it. Really, who can blame me. Really.
I am a kind of pain in the ass about this stuff, even to myself.
First of all, it is the judgmental part of me that keeps poking her nosy, opinionated, assholish self into all sorts of places. Most of the time I can hold my peace, bite my tongue, get the hell over myself. Sometimes I cannot.
Oh, like when I hear someone being judgmental about someone else, particularly when that person being judged is simply different in whatever, life practices, beliefs, how she/he does things or does not do things, even things like how someone dresses or shops or the things she/he has that the other person does not believe she/he should have (maybe no one should have) if she/he were as dedicated to whatever the judger thinks should have some kind of dedication. Like being green, or living simply, or technology, or how she/he raises their children/chickens/goats/vegetables.
I have to be honest and say that I cannot think of an example right now, but I am certain that my inner judge is going to rear her ugly opinions any moment now.
So, that is my first life altering idea. I will work, like seriously and with fullness of intention and heart, work on not being so judgmental. About anything.
I pretty much can do that at work, even though some of the front desk people are driven to distraction by some of the weird stuff my clients do. I can laugh it off because I have been doing this for a long time, and they have not. All they see is how disruptive these people can be, and I am in complete agreement about that. People, no matter their disability or whatever it is that compromises their ability to behave well in public, still have to behave well in public.
I might have mentioned this already, but I had a client last week who was very difficult. She lied to several people and caused trouble, plain and simple. When she and I were finishing, she commented that she would be making a complaint report the following day about one of them. I told her that if she behaved only half as scattered and rude with them as she did in my office (well, sort of an office, more of a bat cave), that she owed them a huge apology.
She gave two of them little apologies, but it was probably more than anyone had asked of her in a long time. She and I have lots of work in our future, and I have to say that I was, still am, proud that she did at least try. Frankly, that is all we should be expecting from other people, that they just try their best. Maybe that is what we should be expecting from ourselves, as well.
So, no more, or at least a dramatic reduction in the judging that I do, even the judging thoughts in my head, which is where they mostly are, but they should not be there either.
I want to give this a few weeks, see how I do and if I can sustain being a nicer person, before I move on to one of the several dozen life altering ideas I want to incorporate into my life. One of them has to do with chocolate, but I am planning on deliberately failing that one. Sort of sweet, dark, melty, bitter, soul-supporting lovliness. Not gonna do it. Really, who can blame me. Really.
better
Dear Diary,
I like the whole better thing. I know that it is unsustainable for every day, but it is high on my oh-please-just-let-me-grow-the-hell-up list.
So, the birthday party was fine. M loved her gifts and cake (cheesecake, dark chocolate cakey bottom layer, raspberry something on top, covered with a very nice two-layer ganache and good buttercream all around) and her sister was there and, gosh, after yesterday's day stuff, it was just nice. Dinner was great, too. Did not have to cook or clean up. Nice.
Being social on just about any level is still difficult and I am wondering why. My brain says, quite confidently, that the worst is over and that I should (not can or might or it could be a good idea, but should) be moving forward more quickly. And, yes, I know that the residue of decades of all of that crap is not going to just pick up its filthy, disgusting sacks and go somewhere else. It just seems that I should be having more forward movement in so many parts of my life and it simply is not happening.
So, I go back into therapy this week. Not like backward-back, just a return. I left because, well, because talking about anything was more than I could handle with all of the other stuff. So, I quit. I am a quitter, or maybe I was a quitter or maybe just about therapy. During the bad times, when it was bad, I used to tell myself, sometimes out loud, just to make sure that I was listening, that I was not a quitter. I stuck there through the good times and it seemed as though it was only right or fair or decent to stay through the bad times, the dangerous ones.
I used to say, "J, you are not a quitter. You can stay here and figure out a way to fix this. If you just did the right things at the right times, none of this would be happening". It was easy to believe that, that if I could only figure out what to do and how to act, that nothing bad would happen. It, that whole construct, was what someone who is not me would tell me. Afterwards. If I would just do what I was supposed to do, then everything would be fine and I would not get into trouble all the time.
Except, no one could tell me what that was. You know, the right things. I could not figure it out myself, and someone who is not me would tell me that if I were not so stupid that I could figure it out and that I needed to try harder. I did try harder. I tried harder all the time. I really did.
Now, with the perspective of being out of there for the past several months, a bit more than seven months now-can I even believe that, I can see that I never had a chance, that no matter what I did it would never be right because I never knew what the rules were and whatever I did would be in violation of rules that were fluid, changing to make sure that I always violated whatever the hell they were.
Or, it occurs to me right this moment, maybe there never were any rules, just opportunities, excuses, to do whatever he wanted.
Anyway, I am safe now and healing as best I can and making great decisions and enjoying this new life of mine. None of this happened in an instant and I guess the residue does not disappear in an instant, either.
That actually helps me to feel better, somehow. Or, perhaps not 'somehow' but because I earned it, this right to feel better and not worry so much. I keep saying everything in its time, and I mean it when I tell myself that; it is just, oh, I do not know, I am impatient. As though I waited all of this time, knowing that I would die there and never have any kind of peace or safety, and here it is and, fuck, I do not know where any of this is going.
Clearly, therapy is a serious need right now. I just really do not want to start all of that damn crying again. Tissues are expensive, hankies are gross and I already get enough weird looks without walking around with a roll of toilet paper hung on a ribbon around my neck. So, not going to do that again. :)
I am having lunch tomorrow with a friend, maybe two if the other guy does not have plans. I do not have many friends in this new town and the few people I know have all-day jobs and do things at night, which I do not have or do. Being out after dark does not make me weirder or totally freak out or anything, but it feels uncomfortable, so I do not do it. Lunch should be fine. At least until Daylight Savings ends. Then, I might be able to do only breakfast.
What else.
I guess that is that, then. Fiber club tonight. I have begun one of those knit hats with the ear flaps for one of my grandsons. I have yarn to make one for the other sweet baby, and am hoping that I can follow that pattern and finish them before their heads are too big to fit the hats. I am looking for time to knit at home, but that might be compromised when I finally get the Internet next Monday. Yippee!! Typing with a keyboard. Being able to format paragraphs, and insert pictures and share stuff. Totally cool.
I think I will bake bread tonight as an apology present for one of tomorrow's potential lunch people. Nah. I will get home...after dark...hungry and tired from a long day and I will make popcorn, have a soda and watch television whilst I play on my phone.
Maybe I am not a quitter, but I am a slacker. Of sorts. I like it, this being a slacker. It is nice to not have to do anything. I like it a lot, and so does CoolCat. Maybe we will have hot dogs. He likes those.
I like the whole better thing. I know that it is unsustainable for every day, but it is high on my oh-please-just-let-me-grow-the-hell-up list.
So, the birthday party was fine. M loved her gifts and cake (cheesecake, dark chocolate cakey bottom layer, raspberry something on top, covered with a very nice two-layer ganache and good buttercream all around) and her sister was there and, gosh, after yesterday's day stuff, it was just nice. Dinner was great, too. Did not have to cook or clean up. Nice.
Being social on just about any level is still difficult and I am wondering why. My brain says, quite confidently, that the worst is over and that I should (not can or might or it could be a good idea, but should) be moving forward more quickly. And, yes, I know that the residue of decades of all of that crap is not going to just pick up its filthy, disgusting sacks and go somewhere else. It just seems that I should be having more forward movement in so many parts of my life and it simply is not happening.
So, I go back into therapy this week. Not like backward-back, just a return. I left because, well, because talking about anything was more than I could handle with all of the other stuff. So, I quit. I am a quitter, or maybe I was a quitter or maybe just about therapy. During the bad times, when it was bad, I used to tell myself, sometimes out loud, just to make sure that I was listening, that I was not a quitter. I stuck there through the good times and it seemed as though it was only right or fair or decent to stay through the bad times, the dangerous ones.
I used to say, "J, you are not a quitter. You can stay here and figure out a way to fix this. If you just did the right things at the right times, none of this would be happening". It was easy to believe that, that if I could only figure out what to do and how to act, that nothing bad would happen. It, that whole construct, was what someone who is not me would tell me. Afterwards. If I would just do what I was supposed to do, then everything would be fine and I would not get into trouble all the time.
Except, no one could tell me what that was. You know, the right things. I could not figure it out myself, and someone who is not me would tell me that if I were not so stupid that I could figure it out and that I needed to try harder. I did try harder. I tried harder all the time. I really did.
Now, with the perspective of being out of there for the past several months, a bit more than seven months now-can I even believe that, I can see that I never had a chance, that no matter what I did it would never be right because I never knew what the rules were and whatever I did would be in violation of rules that were fluid, changing to make sure that I always violated whatever the hell they were.
Or, it occurs to me right this moment, maybe there never were any rules, just opportunities, excuses, to do whatever he wanted.
Anyway, I am safe now and healing as best I can and making great decisions and enjoying this new life of mine. None of this happened in an instant and I guess the residue does not disappear in an instant, either.
That actually helps me to feel better, somehow. Or, perhaps not 'somehow' but because I earned it, this right to feel better and not worry so much. I keep saying everything in its time, and I mean it when I tell myself that; it is just, oh, I do not know, I am impatient. As though I waited all of this time, knowing that I would die there and never have any kind of peace or safety, and here it is and, fuck, I do not know where any of this is going.
Clearly, therapy is a serious need right now. I just really do not want to start all of that damn crying again. Tissues are expensive, hankies are gross and I already get enough weird looks without walking around with a roll of toilet paper hung on a ribbon around my neck. So, not going to do that again. :)
I am having lunch tomorrow with a friend, maybe two if the other guy does not have plans. I do not have many friends in this new town and the few people I know have all-day jobs and do things at night, which I do not have or do. Being out after dark does not make me weirder or totally freak out or anything, but it feels uncomfortable, so I do not do it. Lunch should be fine. At least until Daylight Savings ends. Then, I might be able to do only breakfast.
What else.
I guess that is that, then. Fiber club tonight. I have begun one of those knit hats with the ear flaps for one of my grandsons. I have yarn to make one for the other sweet baby, and am hoping that I can follow that pattern and finish them before their heads are too big to fit the hats. I am looking for time to knit at home, but that might be compromised when I finally get the Internet next Monday. Yippee!! Typing with a keyboard. Being able to format paragraphs, and insert pictures and share stuff. Totally cool.
I think I will bake bread tonight as an apology present for one of tomorrow's potential lunch people. Nah. I will get home...after dark...hungry and tired from a long day and I will make popcorn, have a soda and watch television whilst I play on my phone.
Maybe I am not a quitter, but I am a slacker. Of sorts. I like it, this being a slacker. It is nice to not have to do anything. I like it a lot, and so does CoolCat. Maybe we will have hot dogs. He likes those.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
long day
And, it is not even half over. No Internet equals no paragraphs, but I carry on...oh, what a valiant, little chap I am! :) Lordy . Anyway, I was fine, really, when this morning's installation went ass over teakettle. Then the other stuff came calling. Car repair woes plus a licensing issue (maybe random weirdness, maybe facilitated by someone who is not me) . Then the notification that my supplementary insurance plan went belly up. Sweet lordy, I can handle, like totally and completely, like a genius, take charge and do all of this. Like totally. But, it must have been just enough to bring on an aftershock. Fuck. So, anyway, I did some breathing and put things into perspective meditative crap, and I am feeling more myself. But, I am supposed to be at a birthday party, several counties away in an hour and a half, and I am sitting here, poking this out on this teeniest of keyboards, and the television is on, sound off, and Rick Bayless is on, and I never noticed how excited, riled angry he looks when you cannot hear what he is saying and how enthused he is about what he does. Seriously, he looks like the crazy person I might be inside. Interesting. Even I get it. You know. :)
i can
I can handle the complicated installation next week, without my usual incessant verbal spewing . How's that for positive thinking!
**********
I can manage to find another supplemental insurance plan that will serve my health and budget.
**********
I can figure out how to keep the whole car thing going until I establish routines and behaviors that allow me to comfortably and safely use the bus.
**********
I have the patience to rework my budget.
**********
I can do whatever needs doing without losing my mind, my fairly tenuous (and most likely undermedicated) sanity without completely freaking out or eating every, single, last sweet and/or salty thing in the tri-state area.
**********
I am the weird, ugly, old, fat babe who can. I got the scars to prove it.
patience
It seems that the cable company is unable to keep their information in a way that makes it available to their service representatives who are doing their best to help potential customers.
So, no Internet service for me. The installers arrived, but were unable to do anything because the equipment already installed here is obsolete and, despite my previous inquiry regarding possible access to the basement (which requires the presence of the landlord, and assurances that he was not needed here, I had to cancel the appointment send the men on their way and spend an hour on the phone straightening and arranging everything with everyone.
Not really complaining, but this is costinting money and time that I cannot afford, and a week of inconvenience.
All things in their time, yes?
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