Hello, my dears. It’s been a while again and it’s entirely my fault per usual. Last time we spoke, I jinxed it by saying, “I’m hoping I won’t miss anymore weekend posts now that the car thing is all sorted.”
Well, guess what I didn’t do last weekend? If you said “post,” you win a prize! And by “prize” I mean, “nothing!”
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I feel adrift at the moment. Someone has untied me from the dock and I keep drifting farther out to sea. The more I drift, the harder it seems to get back, so I’m forcing myself to write every damn weekend now, no matter what.
Here’s hoping I didn’t just jinx myself again. Buy me a Coke.
The sentences have been percolating in my brain at a slower rate than normal. It’s less of a waterfall than Chinese water torture. Drip drip drip.
Perhaps it’s a chicken and egg scenario: because I’m not writing much these days, I can’t find much to write about. A lot of my previous posts were inspired by you, but since I can’t find time to read you anymore, I’m missing out on a lot of inspiration.
I miss the glowy orange notification, which meant contact with the outside world. Sure, there’s been contact with people in the real world–I’m not a shut-in yet–but it’s just not the same. You know what I mean.
Out there in the real world, I don’t talk about things the way I talk about things with you. I’m not as open out there. It’s just my nature. I tend to play my cards close to the vest, even with my closest friends. My best friends know where I am, but I don’t talk about the deep darkies as much with them as I do with you; just a sentence here or there. That’s why this place has always meant so much to me and I miss it.
I’ve tried writing and reading on my phone, but aside from the fact that WordPress has the worst mobile app ever, I hate reading, and especially writing, on my phone. I’m so not a millennial. I need a full keyboard in front of me to write. Sigh.
Anyway, my friends, I’m not in an exceptionally good place. I’m not in an exceptionally bad place either–I know bad places and this place doesn’t even crack the top 100 of bad places–but where I am is not good.
As to my mental state, the depression has waned a bit, or at least it’s taken a sneakier form, but the indent that depression left has been filled with anxiety. I honestly think I’d rather have depression than anxiety. Actually, I’d rather have toenail removal surgery without anesthesia than either of those. At least that will heal. There’s no real healing with mental illness. There’s only mildly better or way worse. Frankly, I’m tired of it.
As to the rest of my life, I’ve been drowning in paperwork. This much:
The picture below is what the pile should look like. See how the paperweight in this picture from last November is not sitting on a mountain of paper? You can’t even see the pink kitty organizer in the picture from today. It’s three inches high. I just measured.
What I have now is a ridiculous amount of paperwork. Contained within are car insurance documents, car payment documents, info on setting up the tracking device on the new car which I still need to do, credit card stuff, a renewal for my AAA service, information on my new health, dental and vision insurance (my company randomly switched providers), and various papers I just need to file related to my tax returns, my old car, my new car, and everything in between.
I’m still loving the new car, but the amount of paperwork involved is monumentally cockamamie. I will say, it’s so nice driving a car where absolutely everything works exactly as the manufacturer intended.
For three years, I drove a car where I was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop and there was an astounding array of other shoes, so I still haven’t entirely shaken that back-of-mind worry about breakdowns. Then I remind myself that not only do I not have the old, broken-down car anymore, but I have a car that’s fresh off the assembly line. Even if it does break down, it’s under warranty anyway. Phew.
Oh, and in that stack, there’s also this:
Yup. I need to vote. Since I’m not a registered Republican, I’m not even allowed to vote in their primary. How rude is that? I kind of wish I could vote in the Republican primary so I could vote for literally anyone but Trump. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I would vote for almost anyone over Trump including both Bushes. When Adolph Hitler looks more or less like a bigoted misogynist intent on world destruction than your candidate depending on the day, your party has a problem. But, since I’m not a registered Republican shudder I can’t vote in their primary anyway.
I always used to vote in person, because I liked the process. It foolishly made me feel more like part of a democracy than just filling out a form and dropping it in the mail. Plus, I liked getting the sticker. But, since I moved and lost the backyard, I have to go to the dog park after work, so I find it’s easier to vote by mail. That way, I never miss an election. Plus, they now include a sticker in vote by mail ballots. Yay democracy!
Other paperwork involves leveling up my dork character to level 6. In fact, when I un-slept my computer this morning, this was staring me in the face:I know. You don’t care. Leveling up characters is a lot of work though. I’m just glad I’m not a magic user. Only two of you will even remotely understand that last sentence (I’m looking at you, Alex P and Sirius Bizinus).
So, that’s me. Not good, not terrible. Just eh. What’s up with you? I miss your face. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a mountain of paperwork to whittle down.