My motorcycling has gone very well. My Photography has gone okay although lately I have mostly been taking pics of the dogs with the iphone. I just started two fish tanks. Freshwater tanks with guppies, mollies, and neon tetras. In one tank I have 3 guppy fry and 2 molly fry.
I would like to start a nano reef tank. Maybe over the winter. The tanks make nice decorative additions to my home. One in the living room and one in the bedroom.
Web design is not going so well. I can’t seem to get it together to do the things that I want to do. I’m scared to start because I’m scared that it won’t be any good. And if I never do it, I can continue to think I’m good at it. which is really kinda twisted and I hate the lie of it. anyway. was just sitting here browsing the internet information on nano reefs and thought I’d stop by.
I’m not so talkative. This blog is not yet everything I had hoped it would be. Although clearly, once a month, i am reminded that it exists and I have the urge to post…something, anything, though it may not be all that interesting.
things I’ve remembered that I know:
1. the internet is not the hypochondriac’s friend.
2. envy is a very uncomfortable feeling.
3. I miss my motorcycle.
4. ignoring a problem does not make it go away or get better
5. knowing what the problem is gives one information even if one still has no clue how to solve it.
6. a smile from a woman one is infatuated with is twitterpatting.
7. i’m not as stupid as I think or as smart as I hoped.
8. hugs are priceless
9. dog spit is not tasty but it won’t kill you.
10. good mothers are special.
We’re into the third month of the year. I’m still loving the Cs. Back to work. Back to thinking that it won’t be me who will hold me up but my manager; and I know that he feels he is doing his best. Unfortunately, it just doesn’t meet my needs and leaves me frustrated more often than not.
I don’t trust that he does what he says or even tries to get the things that we ask for. I’m pretty sure he feels he knows best or that he has important information that cannot be shared with us but upon which he bases his decisions on what to tell us. I just don’t see how that is helpful. But I’m tired of fighting. tired of feeling like I’m being a nag to ask for what will help me do my job better or help improve moral. I can see how before I fell into complacency. I can see how it could happen again. I am not sure how to resolve this yet.
So, the first month of 2011 is 2 days away from being done. I am finally done with smoking. The only thing I think I might have trouble with is when other people are around. Smoking was my prop that let me not care what they might or might not think of me. With a smoke, I could concentrate on thinking about that smoke, I could maintain my confidence because with a smoke, on the edge of my tongue is a fuck you readily implied, even if I don’t have to or want to say it. And so I felt okay with myself and wouldn’t worry about the rest. It let me not be self involved in the face of my anxiety.
And I had it done. Years of thinking, waiting, wanting and thinking. And now it’s done and I swear I’m so pleased. I look different. I’m me but different. Onward to the next thing.
I want to know who I am now and who I’m going to be next. The thought excites me and I am grateful.
The thing about quitting smoking is that avoiding the immediate real discomfort of quitting bum rushes the potential long term benefits of having quit. I find it much harder to not smoke when there are no cigarettes in my pocket than I do when I have them.
As soon as I don’t have any, even though I don’t want to smoke, I find myself wanting to smoke and having to buy more. However, once I’ve bought them, the immediate urge to smoke diminishes. For instance, I had smoked my last hours before I was to let the dogs out for the final break. I wasn’t concerned about it. I even had a thought or too about having a smoke but I didn’t follow through. Yet the moment it stuck me that I didn’t actually HAVE any smokes, I NEEDED to smoke.
A new year is on it’s way; a new year is always on its way.
It’s cold outside. The temperature is below freezing and it’s beginning to rain a bit.
Panic ensues in Georgia.
I manage a depression and anxiety. I have managed it, at times successfully and at other times not quite so successfully. There are times when it impacts my day to day. and there are times when my day to day is the only thing that keeps me from shooting air bubbles into my veins.
When I am in the Pit, I know that if I can just hold on, sometimes second to second, that it will get better. Sometimes it’s not even holding on that does it, it’s scrambling to slow the slide into the abyss.
I had the thought the other day that it’s a good thing that I was born in the 20th century when they have drugs that have been improving every year. Otherwise, I’d have a hole drilled in my head and have to walk around with leeches.
Pills are better.
Sometimes I wonder about myself. I was just looking online at information about going to film school. Specifically, taking a course in screenwriting. I want to tell stories. Anyway, I was thinking about how long it would take and whether or not it would be worth it to rack up the debt and spend the time if the world is going to end in 2012 anyway.
I mean if the world ends, then screw the debt. But then who is really going to be interested in my screenwriting? From what I can tell, zombies don’t watch TV.
i call my mother once or twice a week
just to say hey
i love you, did you eat dinner
i am as old now as she was when i was young
and thought she was old
so how old she is now
continues to be a surprise
because she seems so young
I see my mother 4 or 5 times a month
she has a busy schedule
works, volunteers, goes to church
the other women she’s met along the way
and of course her children
my brothers and sister and I
are old enough that she doesn’t
Have to see us everyday
she knows we’ll call and catch her
as catch can.
my mother calls me
once or twice a week
just to say hey
i love you, are you getting any exercise?
I don’t eat
sleep too much
sleep too little
spend too much time alone
she knows all my telephone smiles
and that some are just for show
even if she doesn’t know why
I call my mother once or twice
a week to remind myself that
she had a life, like me
becoming a mother