Apologies and updates

I have no personality. I lost it when my job because too much to handle. And I'm not talking about the scratching or the shit. The data entry has gotten ridiculous. There just isn't enough time and everyone is getting behind. Plus they've divided my department and now it's one therapist to two or three kids at various times during the day (kids that have less behavior problems). But I'm still exhausted at the end of the day and always feel like there was something I forgot to enter.

I am not the same girl my boyfriend met over two months ago. I have no sex drive. I dream about work every night.

Last week a cubical wall fell on my leg. I have a huge bruise and my knee cap is killing me but luckily nothing was broken.

Seems like everyone hates their job. There was a time when people got stressed because of working with a particular kid but now I think most just detest the data entry. Severe behavior looks kinda good at this point...

I'm trying to find myself again. At this time of year I'm reminded how much I detest money yet want an abundance of wealth. Some days I want to move to Africa and rebuild villiages.

I feel the worst for my boyfriend and friends. I am not the same person. I am constantly tired. The first person I talk to afer work gets an ear full. I'm mad at myself because I compartmentalize all my feelings about relationships and everything else but I can't seem to do it for work and I'm not even working with the really aggressive children.

I know it will get better but I feel like I owe everyone an apology for being so distant. Maybe I just feel like I want to explain. Some days I don't remember my own name.

Going home for the holidays. Here is who will be staying in our three bedroom house: Mom, Stepfather, myself, Aunt, Uncle, cousin one, cousin two, grandfather. Aunt and Uncle want was all to "be under one roof for the holidays." I said we should rent out a hotel because I am not giving up my bedroom and luckily my stepfather agrees with me. I am also not sharing my bed with my fifteen year old cousin. Maybe I'm a bitch but I know I am going to need a place to retreat. Our house is not that big.

I'm really trying to practice gratitute and be thankful my family is together.There have been so many years were someone wasn't talking to some else and oh-by-the-way mhy dad is coming but he IS staying in a hotel thank you Jesus.

Years ago when we lived in Hawaii, my parent's were great friends with another couple, J and L who had two daughters at least ten years older than me. The husband was my dad's best friend from the Marine's but during my parent's divorce he sided with my mother and then my dad and he didn't speak, until this week. J and L's daughter, son-in-law, and two grandchildren died in a small plane crash about a month ago out west. My dad called me and we had a long talk about how important it was to put their differences aside becuase of this terrible tragedy. How the value lies in the core of their friendship, not the misunderstandings of what happened during the divorce. I thought about that for a while and realized how I don't really talk to my stepmother... but I'm not going to take my own advice. Fuck that. We weren't ever best friends.

Anyway. So that happened. Then my mom's friend R died. She was a nurse with my mom in the ER. My mom gets a call from C (also a nurse). C is the only nurse in the country to remove donated eyeballs and guess who donated their eyeballs: R. So I get a call at 10:00 at night from mom at the morgue. She and C are taking out R's eyeballs. Where the fuck do you find the resilliance to do that? I have no idea. I can't even process it. I also can't even process going to your deceased daughters's house and going through her things as well as your grandchildrens'.

So I am very lucky I have family members to spend the holidays with and at some point my job will get better or I will find another job.

There is your update. Sorry for the long wind.

Sorry I haven't called anyone back. Please be patient.

The Omen II

He has bitten me multiple times. Most memorable: On the upper thigh near my cool-oo. Figure it out. Second, today on the tummy. I say tummy because my stomach is soft and Goddamn it hurt.

His teeth are small but pinch.

He drew blood both times.

He doen't aggress towards the other therapists. Just me and a clinical specialist that comes around every now and then.

Later this afternoon he bit me on the knee while I was teaching his sister. Of course I had to ignore it but he did NOT let go. Luckily he did not bite hard enough to draw blood. Praise Jesus.

He's scratched my face, arms, legs, etc. He screams. He kicks. I hate working with him. He's a challenge which is nice but the blood draw on the more sensitive areas of my body is not happy. It is mostly my fault. I should avoid even getting those areas remotely near his little fangs.

Tomorrow I am off to my parents' for turkey day. Luckily I will be coming back on Saturday! I think that is just enough time to receive the appropriate dose of dysfunctional family behavior and return to all my unpaid bills.

I've been sick for about a week and a half. Congestion, runny nose, sneezing, sore throat. The works. DayQuil gives me migraines. JewCube has taken me to the doctor TWICE and has been privy to vomit sounds echoing from his bathroom.

I have next to zero water pressure in my shower because my apartment complex claims there WAS a leak in a pipe. They have not filled in the three foot deep hole filled with water coming from an unkown source and claim my water pressure complaint is unfounded. Bitches.

I smell and need a shower.

This is what it is supposed to feel like.

Two crazy kids who spend all their time together and can't keep their hands off each other.

It has reminded me how I am supposed to be treated. How I am supposed to feel.

He is genuine, caring, and truly makes me want to be a better human being.

The few men who have made me feel like this before have a) either turned out to be total dirt bags or b) lived too far away.

Right now I'm taking things one day at a time. I should be studying for the GRE. Work is still exhausting. The cat has ring worm but North Korea hasn't nuked us yet.

Barf-Factor

So I've mentioned this before: when it comes to dating, I am like Stan from South Park.

I have been sick to my stomach for days. Today my before-work cocktail consisted of Immodium, Tums, and Advil. Luckily it did the trick for most of the day.

This is how it goes. Guys I really like make me sick to my stomach. I have literally gotten sick before dates.

Apparently it runs in my family. My mom says she felt the same way.

There are a million things going through my head but truly I do not feel like I trust people's intentions (and by people, I mean men). I don't want to feel this way but after the Scumbag I can't help but second guess the motives and genuineness of people. Luckily I have some wonderful guy friends to remind me that the entire gender is not lost and there is hope.

This week has gone by so fast and I'm grateful. On Monday I never thought Thursday would get here and I'm so excited and nervous about everything. What do I wear? How do I let him know I'm getting wearing a silk hot-dress so that he doesn't show up in a KISS t-shirt and jeans with holes (even though normally that would be uber-sexy).

Mark my words: I will do something ridiculous on this date, whether it is tripping and showing my ass to the world or breaking dishes, only time will tell.

I'm going to watch Project Runway and wait for him to call me.

Trouble

I have a six foot, two inch problem.

Just when I said I was through dating and wanted to take some time for "me" and be "independent," I meet someone.

I got invited to the usual hangout on Friday and I really didn't feel like going. I tried to be gung-ho about it in order to convince myself it was the social thing to do and I need to not be such a recluse.

All I will say about Friday is that I ended up giving a friend of a friend my number with the notion he would never call but at least I would be ballsy for once. Oh-and he's 1/2 Jewish. My Jew-dar was spot on.

We went out Saturday.

I have so many feelings I don't even know where to begin-so I won't. I will affectionately refer to him as JewCube (1/2 Jewish and Cuban), that is, if I refer to him at all. I'll keep my fingers crossed that this won't turn into another scumbag situation.

It's been a while since I actually had a crush on someone who lived in my metropolitan area.

Damn.

Today I got peed on.

All I have to say is thank God it did not go in my mouth or face area.

Today's cutie pie is S. He's adorable. He's three and doesn't talk at all but he "oo-oos" Mozart he learns from Baby Einstein. Guess it really does work.

Anyway. He threw QUITE a tantrum for the last oh-two-hours of the day. He was really upset in the bathroom but was very compliant. My boss happened to be outside the bathroom door as the kid screams bloody murder. He comes in and asks me if I'm okay and I say yes but that I need another pair of underwear for the kid because he just peed on the fresh pair I was going to put him in. I took him off the pot and all of a sudden I felt warm droplets upon my arm.

My clothes were splattered with warm hellos from yours truly.

He also snotted on me about an hour later.

He is adorable though.

But...

I don't normally talk about things like this (and if you know me you know this is true) but I have had to deal with more shit than I ever thought I would be capable of handling. Luckily nothing has been too major but it got to a point where I actually resented having a BM.

This is what psycho-babblists call "flooding." A similar situation is if you were afraid of snakes and you went into a room (or plane) filled with snakes. There's no baby steps with rubber snakes or pictures. It's thrown at you in hopes you will basically get used to it.

I think I have.

Yesterday I helped someone in the bathroom and another boss of mine says to the kid, "Be still while she wipes your bottom. She loves to wipe bottoms, she works with S."

I nearly fell over laughing and then realized it is true. I have gotten pretty used to it. For now... I'm sure there will be some massive "Big D" as we call it in the office and I will have different thoughts.

So my mom opened my cell-phone bill. I was so mad. I have no idea why it came to her house but it didn't even mattered when she told me her husband was trying to figure out why I am paying so much. I told her my new policy from now on was that if she opened a bill, she paid it. I also told her she was more than welcome to call me and ask if it was okay for her to open a bill but to do it without asking is a federal offense.

Early this morning I received a text message that said something to the extent that aliens were invading the planet and taking all the beautiful sexy women but not to worry, I was safe. Thank you Factory Boy. But the truly funny thing is that at four in the morning I didn't read the text properly because of course I wasn't quite awake yet however, I was awake enough to turn on CNN to see if there were in fact aliens invading.

AH! Now I remember the reason I wanted to blog in the first place: At work there's a kid who has a serious bathroom protocol. He doesn't talk but signs to go to the bathroom about every minute, literally. So there's a complex sheet to keep track of the signing and a green card to let him know that now is the time to go to the bathroom and a red card to inform him he has to wait.

The sheet confuses me because each card has a "time in" and "time out" box to record the time. Thirty minutes later, the cards switch depending on whether he signed to go to the bathroom while the green card was out.

Anyway, it's confusing. So this morning at around 5:30 I was dreaming about being with the kid and having to put out the cards and recording the data. I kept waking up thinking "I took him to the bathroom and forgot to put out the red card when we got back!! He doesn't know he has to wait to go to the bathroom!"

Then I would realize I was dreaming and go back asleep. Repeat scenario three times.

Maybe it's only funny to me and the people I work with. At least I'm not having those nightmares where I get attacked and bitten.

I told the Paper Boy I was going to decline the date but I was flattered and thanked him. He said "anytime."

I'm going to go marinate some chicken.

Mr. Taxi

I had an 8:30 meeting this morning that I forgot about until 7:30am.

Luckily this was just enough time to kick myself and call a cab.

I tried to explain where I thought my office is located and was informed I was incorrect and that other cab drivers would take advantage of me not knowing the correct location. Thank heaven my cab driver was so candid.

His collar was popped and he had an African accent which means if he were wearing loafters I would have proposed to him on the spot.

He asked me if I had a boyfriend and I said I did not. He asked me if I had a car and I said I did not. He told me I needed to get a boyfriend, move in with him, and have him drive me to work.

What advice! Does this really work?

I told him I didn't mind taking the bus and that I was taking a long break from relationships. I told him that I wanted to be independent and actually liked that aspect of my life.

Mr. Taxi asked me why I wanted to be independent. I said it's a hard thing to be independent for so long, date someone, get dependent, and then break up. Can I really have a balance in a relationship? Yes. Is it ever the same as not being in a relationship? Not really.

Friends are great but I have to say there's a difference in my boyfriend and my friend. Aside from the sex.

There are a few truly close friends of mine I would go to for everything and anything but those friends are scare and live elsewhere. Hopefully my boyfriend would live close by and be willing to listen to everything from my day at work to "kill the spider!" requests.

Anyway. Mr. Taxi managed to make me laugh.

Most days when I come home from work I tend to think about my life and how lucky I am to have made it through another day with the people I care about. I look at the trees and am still amazed by how things work and live at the atomic level.

I miss Maine every day. The simplicity and calm I feel when I am there (without my mother). Maybe I should go to grad school in Maine. Who moves there? It's fucking freezing in the winter.