Awkwardly Social

I miss writing here.  I’m thankful that I’m starting to unfreeze writing wise.  It’s not showing up here yet, but eventually the ripples will reach here.

I did some cooking today.  It was nice.  I had music on in the kitchen and the knives seemed sharp and the oven worked.

I have done a ton of shopping in the past week.  For myself.  This is twofold.  My clothes are all tattered and worn because I don’t go shopping for myself.  I lost some weight.  I only like to buy clothes when I’m around this weight.  I realize this all kinds of fucked up.  I am in therapy for many reasons.

I am moments away from Thanksgiving dinner.  With relatives of Seth’s I’ve never met.  I feel no anxiety.  My therapy is working in some ways.  Meeting new people?  Not as anxious making anymore.  Except for the impending ex-wife meeting.  I will be meeting her at Seth’s daughter’s graduation from pastry school.  There is maybe a pie in the face joke in there somewhere, not sure where.

I’m off for four days.  It feels glorious.  Then after next Friday, I’ll be on the dole again.  That doesn’t feel so glorious.

Happy Thanksgiving.  I’m thankful for many things this year, but mostly I’m thankful that Seth and I are still completely in love.  It’s a feeling I hope never goes away.

So, after my barfing Monday morning, there was some groaning and leaving work early and lying about, all accompanied by what I assumed was a raging UTI.  After some calls to various doctors, an antibiotic was prescribed and I took to my bed.  With your niggling thoughts of pregnancy dancing in my head.

I remembered that my sister once had a UTI whilst* pregnant, and that of course, made me think that, oh-ho, I MUST be pregnant.  Because UTI’s are a symptom of pregnancy.  Because my sister once had one concurrently.  This is how retarded I am.

Two days later I was still in agony, so much so I wasn’t able to go running for two days straight.  Some might think that was a convenient way for me to puss out of running, but those people are only partly right.  See, if I don’t run, I don’t sleep.  And guess who gets crazy if she doesn’t sleep!  Ding, ding, ding.  That’s right, this girl.  So after some haranguing by Seth, I called Callie (at her new office, which, I assumed would be a logistical nightmare which is why I didn’t want to call her, which is because I’m extra phone averse when I’ve got a double dose of the no-sleep-crazies) and she fit me in today.

First of all, this is a woman I’ve only seen twice now.  But she’s so extremely huggable-looking, I wanted to cuddle up with her and take a little nap in her lap.  Don’t mind me that’s just the crazy talking.  Sort of.  But I resisted and just undressed below the waist for her.  (She asked me to!  And I left my socks on.)   They tested my urine, and it was totally clear, Also, I’m a clean catch champion.  The nurse started to explain what clean catch was and I was all, stop right there, sister, save your breath, I know how to clean catch!  She smiled.  Weakly.  So, Callie rooted around in there and see if there was something else going on, like, I don’t know A BABY and took a slide from the baby making region and it too, was totally clear.  There was nary a baby or bacteria to be found.

Basically, I have nothing.  Except phantom pain that keeps me from running which keeps me from sleeping which keeps me from being a normal human being.

I have a shrink appointment on Saturday.

*Who was it that hates it when people use whilst, was it you Schmutzie?  If it was you, I’m kind of sorry, but I have an excuse!  I’m tired!  And while seems so boring when one is tired.

Lula’s worriedly sitting on my lap.  I just spent last night huddled in bed after the walk from the car to the house ended up in me clutching my mouth and heaving over a dirty pile of tangled ivy in our neighbors front yard.  (I started crying,  I don’t want to throw up here, when it all came up.) This morning I got up and as soon as I stood, my stomach jumped to my mouth and I crouched in front of the much more suitable toilet.

I’m now counting my blessings that I threw up last night because if I just had a barf session in the morning that would be morning sickness.  And that would be unacceptable.

I might have to crawl back into bed, now.

Between my regular job, my (almost done, thank the lord of weekends) freelance job, and my therapy I’m low on words.

I wake up in the middle of the night babbling about how it’s never going to work or that I’ve lost my pills and Seth, jostled out of sleep by my despair tries to figure out what I’m talking about until we finally both actually wake up and realized I was just sleep talking and by then I’m WIDE awake and in full panic mode about getting back to sleep, sometimes I turn on the TV and try to watch something, but most of the time I just flip back and forth from one side to the other wishing I could turn my brain off.  And then I start thinking I should just get up and work, and then I feel guilty when I can’t make myself get out of bed.

And wow, I just looked at the time and this little paragraph has taken me too long to write and I have to get to work.

Show biz, baby.