It’s later

Ok, so it’s later than the last time I posted here.  Four years later, to be precise.
Or would that be "to be accurate"?   I’m trying to remember my Physics rules to determine which applies.  Not that it matters.
What the hell have I done with my time?  Besides get my Bachelor’s, gain weight, buy more shoes, spend more money, lose weight, buy more shoes, gain weight, and spend money? Not much, I suppose.
I said I would write again when I needed to get stuff of my mind and, since my last post, I have done exactly not that.  Recently, due to some really strange behaviours I have displayed, I think it’s time to empty the garbage again.  See, I tend to internalize things to the point that they all begin to run together and I start becoming the "weird lady" that people avoid when they see on the street.  Even when I look them in the eye as they pass and say "Hello".  Especially if I smile when I do that.  I don’t know why, it’s not like I go out undressed or looking like an escapee from Hotel California.  And I almost always have my hair combed.  It’s pretty disconcerting.  At least for me.
So…here goes
It’s Valenine’s day, again.  Again, I am unattached.  Again, I don’t care.  Considering I have been in a relationship that lasted through the 14th exactly once in my entire life, I think not giving a damn about the day is pretty okay.  It’s not as though I have had time for a serious relationship anyway.  I have not bothered to make any changes to my life or lifestyle that woud put me in a position to change that situation.  It would be unhealthy to keep lamenting my lack of a partner in light of the fact that I have not actively looked for one in my opinion.  And mine is the only opinion that matters here.
I’m in school again.  I am officially a Graduate Student.  As strange as it sounds when I say the words in reference to myself, it is what I am.  When I reflect on the seven years it took me to get my BA, it seemed as though I would never get here.  What with spending three unnecessary semesters in junior college, having to retake classes I failed once I made it into University (so much for that resolution), changing majors (Pre-Med to Bio-Psych), psychosis, depression, meds, dead dog (I really miss her), screwed-up relationship (never should have happened, should have stayed friends), dead other mother (I really miss her, too), moving, moving again, then moving again, it seemed as though I was never going to get my degree.
I still work.  Still with the same employer.  It’s been 12 years now.  As much as I had anticipated being ready for the cut to part-time work, life was pretty uncomfortable once I did it.  I made it through, though, if by the skin of my teeth and the early distribution from my retirement fund (taxes, yechh).  I gotta tell ya…the first opportunity to go back to full-time work I jumped on like a cockroach (thank God for 10% raises).
Speaking of money, I have more of it lately.  That has always posed a problem for me.  See, when I have money, I start thinking of all the bills I could pay ahead, and all the impulse purchases I put off because I was too close to broke to justify them even to myself.  I can balance a checkbook with the best of them, but I’m too lazy to write every purchase down, so my money gets away from me.  Soon enough, I’m whining about being broke again because I bought stuff I shouldn’t have, even when I DID manage to pay all the bills like I should have.  I need to work on not thinking about what the money I have could get, and how that sale was timed perfectly, or how nice that fill-in-the-blank would look on me or in my house.  Or how long I can hold onto it, because that is when I get into the most trouble.  I obsess about saving money, and when I obsess about something I get restless, which makes me flee my (usually empty) home and head out to someplace, anyplace that is not indoors, alone with my thoughts and afraid of my feelings.  Since I am out without an agenda, and the I-was-taught-better-than-to-waste-gas part of me has begun to scream in my head that driving around aimlessly wastes gas, I have to find somewhere to go.  Usually, that’s the mall.  Damn.
Speaking of being alone at home with my obsessive thoughts, I am not anymore.  Now I have someone to cohabitate with who: cooks and cleans; listens and gives great advice; cooks; laughs at my jokes; isn’t afraid to tell me when I am wrong or being stupid; cooks; makes me laugh until my sides hurt, and cooks.  If only she were my type.  Damn.
There.  That’s better.

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