Annie Jump Cannon
I had a bad dream that scared me awake yesterday morning. I was still working at my old job, the one I spent almost 10 years at doing things I didn't care about at all. One day, the Big Boss' daughter comes in with him. She's a little girl of around nine or so. He introduces me and she seems nice, then they head back to his office with her bounding down the hall all the way.
The next part of the dream is a bit fuzzy, but as I remember it, I start a vacation the next day and am gone for about a week. Normal vacation time. When I get back in to work everyone's asking me about my time off and I see a new face. We're introduced and when she walks away I ask someone about her. What do they say? Oh, her? She's Big Boss' daughter, remember? She works here now.
The woman is clearly mid-twenties. Meaning, 15 years have passed with me doing the same job I hate and I hadn't even noticed.
I cannot fully describe the cold dread that woke me up Tuesday morning. I was sick to my stomach, sweaty and something else...Suddenly aware, maybe? After my initial shock I didn't think about the dream any more. Until this morning when I had a work-related flash of insight:
When I left my job four years and six months ago, I wasn't stepping out on faith. I was being stupid.
There's a saying about faith without works being dead. I hadn't done any of the work to be able to leave my job and have things turn out alright. But it didn't occur to me at the time. When they made me the offer, all I could think about was being free. Of course, I likely would have been fired had I not taken the deal, but I didn't think about that either. The idea of being happy with some job somewhere was all I could see.
And yet, now that I know this, and truly feel in my bones that I made a huge mistake, there's nothing I can do about it. Now, I feel more fear about the future than I do on an average day. I feel dumber, even less prepared to live and thrive in the real world. More useless. Less able to cope with my failings.
And I don't (really, really don't) know what to do about it.
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Ahh, fuck. I need some music to pep me up.
Showing posts with label oh my. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oh my. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Monday, June 06, 2011
Are You There God? It's Me, Citygirl...

Dear Almighty,
I'm writing this as an open prayer. To get it all out and force myself to stop.
We cannot worry anymore. HUBS and I cannot sleep at night. We're snappy and bitchy and twitchy and irritable. Even when we're happy we're sad. It all feels like too much; like a dreary dead end that we can't turn around from.
And we're trying. Trying to stop the worry, the ruminating, the wallowing, the stressing, the fear. We are: breathing deeply, counting to 10, praying, pleading, meditating, yoga-ing, stretching and discussing. It helps for a bit, and then feels meaningless.
So, I'm now (actively and publicly) giving it all to you. Surrendering every fear, stress, worry, anxiety and its ilk.
About...
Luanne's health issues
My joblessness
My depression
My restlessness
My inactivity
My indecision
My procrastination
HUBS' exhaustion
Our money problems
Our anger
Our anxiety
Our fear of our own futures
Our lack of hope
Our lack of complete faith
Our entitlement
Our reckless desires...
And all the other negative, scary stuff.
I ask that you take these things and help us figure out a way through, up, over, around or under them. And if we can't figure out a way, please help us somehow be ok anyway.
Many thanks,
XO
Citygirl
Thursday, April 21, 2011
A Lot...And Yet, Not So Much

Luanne: our little Elizabethan poet.
Well, my holy fucking Lord. This has been quite a couple of weeks. I'm gonna break things down into bullet points so my weary mind can process the info as easily as possible.
-Kitten Update: They opened their eyes last week on the same day I took Luanne to the vet specialist. Today I noticed that one of them was cleaning a paw, so they're starting to pick up good kitty habits. Also last week? Miller's kitty mama instincts kicked into high gear and she moved the kittens from the safe, clean, padded box we made for her.
I heard kitty yelping and went downstairs to find that Miller had somehow moved the box a good 15 feet. The box was upside down and her BlackKitten was half trapped underneath. I moved the box and she ran off with BlackKitten. Where did she move them, you're wondering? To my 20 year old base drum that can best be described as a dusty bug graveyard. Oh, well. At least they're all safe.

-Luanne Update: I took Luanne to the specialist last Tuesday and was told that she simply wasn't getting enough food or water via forced syringe. We had to have a feeding tube installed. It made feeding and giving her water a lot easier. Luckily she hasn't had any complications from the surgery.
As I was in the waiting room, I noticed that her left eye was cloudy. I started to panic, and, naturally, my mind went straight to cancer: What the fuck! God, please don't let her have retinoblastoma! What if that's really why she stopped eating! Please don't let her go blind!
Guess what else happened? After we spent almost $2,000 getting her a feeding tube and fancy diagnostic tests she decided to start eating again. The. Very. Next. DAY. That's our little Luanne cat. Perfect fuckin' timing.
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad she's doing a bit of eating on her own. But, that procedure took up a huge chunk of living expenses. And! Feeding her via tube, while easier, is still no picnic. For a few days I was doing 4 feedings a day, plus cleaning the opening in her belly twice a day. There's a whole specific procedure that goes along with this thing. It's time consuming and tiring.
The specialist had given her a new antibiotic and after one dose of that fucker she could smell her food and was basically back to breathing normally. Obviously, if she ever gets sick again, we're going right for the Zeniquin. We're now down to two feedings a day, thank God. Hopefully, within the next week or so, we can get her tube taken out.
-Me Update: I'm not sure what exact parameters are used when people say "I threw my back out," but I do know that last Thursday, Friday and Saturday I was in an awesome amount of pain. Until the incident I was doing pretty good. I'd done some stretching and yoga Thursday morning and was feeling sort of strong and capable and less tired. Then I took a couch nap. When I tried to get up a couple of hours later I moved funny or twisted wrong or somehow angered God Almighty and the Devil, because I was suddenly fucked.
Every position hurt: sitting, standing, bending, laying on my stomach, back or either side, moving or being still. I took two Excedrin, which did precisely N.O.T.H.I.N.G. and went to bed in semi-agony. I returned to my old standby, Advil, Friday morning and was hoping to have a relatively easy day of feedings and nappings to rest my back. Especially since I had to get up at the ass fucking crack of dawn ( I've said fuck a lot in this post, haven't I? Indeed, and it's completely appropriate in every instance. Word.) to take Julia in to get fixed. (By the way, that surgery went fine. Except for the tapeworm they had to call me about that afternoon. Yay! Additional expenses!)
Not so fast, Jackson! I was almost done with Luanne's first feeding when the food stopped going through the tube and the syringe kept popping out and spewing food all over the place. I tried massaging the tube where it met her skin, like her nurse suggested if the tube got blocked. But, it didn't work. They also suggest forcing 5 to 10 cc's of carbonated beverage into the tube to help clear it. Guess who didn't have any soda in the house? Can you also guess who had to get her hurtin' ass to Walmart and looked like a crack head while doing so? Ooh, you guys ah wicked smaaaaat.
I also had to rush Luanne back to the specialist when her tube got blocked again on Monday. This time I really couldn't fix it. They had to loosen the flange that keeps the tube from slipping too far in. Luckily, her weight was good, her eyes were mostly cleared and her nurse gave me an A for keeping things clean. That's all amazingly good news, but we all know that sudden doctor's appointments are stressful, right? I will be so, so glad when everyone is totally healthy again.
Speaking of which, I was also constipated for about a week. I know, I know! Y'all just love to hear about constipation. It fills your hearts and makes your lives sing! My point is that I think stress and back pain caused it. Isn't it horrible how stress and pain fuck with all kinds of things that aren't directly related to the stressor, or the area of pain?
On the up side, A couple of days ago I started feeling like a real person again. I even exercised for over a half hour yesterday. EEee!
-HUBS Update: We haven't had sex in over a month. I feel really bad about it, but I also feel too tired and bothered with other stuff to give sex any effort. A therapist might help, but that shit ain't free, unfortunately.
God, I'm tired just going over it all. Enjoy your Thursday night TV folks! And, as always, thanks for listening.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Stud Pants and Princess Panties: Two Phrases You Need To Know
Cats in maxi pads...I am embarrassed for all involved...Especially the cats.
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