I went to the bank Saturday. I told them to give me money. I fucked up my last loan, and my loans officer fucked it up even worse. It was a partial-debt-consolidation loan where the banker didn’t make my overdraft go poof. No sense consolidating debt if you’re continuing to live in your overdraft. Pity this occurred to me too late.
It was badly executed from the get-go.* I was medicated out of my mind for my back injury at the time, I didn’t talk enough with my brilliant friends, I didn’t have a good enough plan, and I didn’t even feel entitled to borrow money from an institution — as if them giving me money was some humanitarian act instead of their BUSINESS.
I’ve been literally paying for my mistakes every day since, and instead of resigning myself to the hell of trying to dig out from under an avalanche of STUPID, I’m finally trying to right those wrongs in a here-and-now way that lets me finally move past the hardest period of my life.
Tomorrow, I find out. Continue reading
Category Archives: Journalling
Choosing Success
I’m having one of those honest-with-myself days. They’re never very much fun, are they?
I’ve been getting increasingly stressed out about several areas of my life, just because it’s coming down to the crunch and probably also because I’m incredibly skilled at making things more difficult than they need to be.
As a result, I’ve had sort of the perfect emotional storm that every recovering fatty wants to avoid. I know, all too well, that I’m an Emotional Eater. I nearly got to 300 pounds because I can be a very emotional girl, apparently. Continue reading
The New Normal
I knew I was PMSing Friday morning. I was prepared for a shitty day. Got what I was expected, with the added bonus at the end — of finding out my father has prostate cancer.
I know, everyone’s sorry, everyone hopes he’ll pull through. Thank you. Let’s not all say it, though. I’ve been to The Cancer Dance before. It ended badly.* I know there have been advances. I know it’s a different time. I know it’s probably an early diagnosis. But I know cancer.
And I know two more things: I know what I’m made of, and I know it’s out of my hands. Continue reading
Tired, Wired, At the End of It All
I’m frustrated as hell today.
I know I’m PMSing. I’m getting pissed off at obligations, frustrated at my lack of time, angry at the day ahead of me, and I have nothing I can do to really change or improve any of it, other than the plans on tap.
It’s chemicals, man. I’d apologize, but I don’t want to. I didn’t ask to feel like this. I don’t want to feel like this. I also know it won’t be around long. But it’s around now, and there’s not much I can do to shake that.
For now, my life’s pretty consumed with obligation. I’ve got a lot on tap in the next week, and it’s frustrating, because what I really want to do is just get back into a routine. Any, really. I’m stretched too goddamned thin. Still. I’m tired. It’s been a very, very long time of feeling this way. Normally it doesn’t bother me much, I’m used to it, but come PMS time, I get resentful as fuck. I’d like to live on Easy Street. That’d be a nice change of address, if even for a while. Continue reading
Why Do I Blog? Some Thoughts.
After editing this, it occurs to me it should be two separate posts, both developed more fully, but that’s a lot of work. I’ll try to expand a bit on the “social” aspect, or even the socio-political aspects I allude to, in another posting, and I’ll post this here & now as-is. That way, you get something to snack on, I have less guilt about underproducing, and we both have a happy Friday. đŸ˜‰
I’m thinking a lot about blogging today, because I’ve been asked to talk to a couple small groups of keeners tomorrow and talk about why I blog, what my process is. I’ve got some thoughts on that, but, I guess I’m ultimately a little unsure what “blogging” has to do with it.
Me, it’s just writing for an audience I have access to. It’s just writing.
We’re lucky these days. We live in an era where having a thought, having a voice, it means something. The world is literally at our fingers.
A thought doesn’t have to die alone in the dark ever again. Continue reading
Phases Come and Phases Go
Two or three years ago I made myself the promise that I was going to stop stopping. No more stagnation. Growth, growth, growth! Think tumour, think– uh, wait a second. Scratch that one. Think… something.
When I was a kid, about 15, I’d gotten a bit more sophisticated than the “George-Michael-over-every-single-fucking-wall!” method of interior design, and now only had George in a few select spots, as I had begun to fill the rest with Johnny Depp and witticisms I’d cut out of my teen magazines. No, I’m not being ironic. I just had to look really hard. Continue reading
It's Raining, It's Pouring
There world outside is awash in the first cold, hard rains of the real autumn season here in Vancouver.
Without my glasses on, I still see the heavy torrents splashing down. I’m not particularly keen to shower, then, well, go out into the shower. Continue reading
Inspiration, you WHORE.
Inspiration is a fickle slut.
My muse, she ain’t faithful at all. Nuh-uh. She out there all friendly and wanderin’. Ain’t never ’round when I needs it.
That dilemma has been two-fold for me of late. You see, I wanna write a book. In fact, I know kinda what I want to write. You, my friends, need not know this beyond the “it’s autobiographical” nutshell. Continue reading
A Moment of Thanksgiving this Thanksgiving
Lucky us! I have half a mug of coffee left! Just enough for us to squeeze in a quickie!
What a FANTASTIC day. Beautiful, sunny. I’m going into work and kissing ass to have a short day. It’s fantastic working for women who understand that the here-and-now is as important as the year-end fiscal, and life is to be lived, not missed. Great bosses! Yet another thing I’m thankful for as Canada’s Thanksgiving weekend rolls into play.
Today is all but guaranteed, they think, to be the last day of unseasonable weather — tomorrow, the temperature drops like the NYSE after a Madoff scandal.
Oh, the difference a year makes. Every coloured leaf I admire makes me appreciate how far this year has taken me.
Last year at this time, it was just sinking in that I had done something horrible to my back. Had you told me then that I would be facing 9 months of rehab, the first three spent crippled, medicated, and in misery, well, the odds are I would have had a total mental breakdown, and come January or so, I pretty much did.
I enjoyed exactly 0% of last year’s autumn, and it broke my heart. I’m making up for it this year! Continue reading
Giving Myself a Headshake
I’m having one of those days.
I’m having a dislike-myself day. Or is it discontent with myself? ‘Cos I like myself way much and feel it’s worth taking action to end some of the feelings I’ve got today.
The content of my internal dialogue today is staying internal, I’m afraid. No nitty-gritty deets for you people.
But this sort of happens every time I approach a new era of change in my life. When I start it, it’s shaky and it’s more failure than it is success. I fall down. A lot. I fuck up. Constantly. And every time I fuck it up, I follow that up with beating myself up. Continue reading