2005-06-09
Good Times
I just sealed off the exits and locked everyone in the house for the afternoon.
I'm back at work and actually, I think I'd rather be in the 7th circle of hell or worse, at home with the uncomfortable creatures.
My plan is that they all stay in the house for the ntire weekend but I am not going to put it past Grace to McGuyver her way out of the house with a plastic fork and some crochet yarn.
She's wily.
In my head, they freak out for 10 minutes and then everybody calms down and falls asleep on my bed, snuggled up together, napping until they hear my Bitchin' Honda in the driveway.
The reality could be very different.
I guess I'll see in about 3 hours.
It can't be that bad.
If only pets could understand that having to spend an afternoon together is so much better than what I have to go through this afternoon: Ambush criticism for something I did before I had all the info (Hello? You could have copied me on your emails...), Co-workers excited for a happy hour tomorrow that I have no business attending, and Sweaty armpits. If they could understand that being a human being and having to employ higher functioning logic and reason and filters for emotions then all three of the bitches might consider me before they freak the fuck out.
I'm feeling all kinds of selfish today. I'm a little bit sick with a summer cold and I haven't been sleeping so well. It's too hot to fall asleep without the fan but then I wake up at 3:30 or 4 and am absolutely frozen; the kind of cold-in-bed where I'm not sure if having to uncover myself long enough to hop up and turn off the fan is worth it because I am juuuuust warm enough to not be shivering.
Here's my list of complaints:
1. Could someone say "You didn't know that part - I should have told you."
2. Call me, goddammit.
3. It's not fair that I have to pay rent.
4. My throat hurts.
5. My stomach hurts.
6. I can't stand listening to people who don't know how to walk quietly in flip flops. Dude! Your shoes are not a party favor. There is no need for that slapslapslap noise all damn day.
7. My head hurts.
8. I feel smothered, like I can't breath right. It's emotional. When are these days going to go away? It's not like you can go to your employer and say, "Hi, I'm having a meltdown that's related to my general instability. Can I go home so that the chemicals my body produced with the express purpose of terrorizing my ID can do their thing and nobody has to feel like they've run over my dog when they ask me, "Do you know where the Jones file is?" and I jump noticibly and tears spring to my eyes.
"I'll take that as a no."
"Oh."
"Oh God."
"I'm sorry - I just; it's been a ... ummmm... hold on... longish day."
See?
Now I'm crying and there's no reason! Even the Bette Midler song playing on the Lite Rock station doesn't move me to tears. But today, something has moved me to a steady stream of sad, silent tears and it seems that there's nothing I did to bring it and nothing I can do but to let it pass through me.
I have a date with God this weekend, too. While my animals are duking it out and jockying for position in my own little Puppet Master game of Big Brother, I have loaded a shit-ton of yoga onto my calendar. I've got Friday, Saturday, and Sunday - all ansana, all the time.
I haven't been in the studio due to a little funding issue but that seems to be cleared up for the moment so I thought I'd do a little immersion therapy. Sort of like when your mom leaves you and your sister alone for the first time ever and you have to sort out for yourselves How It's Gonna Be while she is praying to the gods of retail. I'll go all bendy/twisty/stretchy while the three of them (hopefully there are three when I get home tonight) make decisions about who sleeps where and what noise means "FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING CUNT! I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!"
Good times.
I found out this morning that my boss is going to move her office directly across from my cubicle.
I don't think I can talk about that yet.
I'm not ready.
arizonasarah at 1:20 p.m.