Gloom-be-Gone

I got past the gloom of last week and am feeling far more optimistic and sunny.  Which, really, is not necessarily my natural state.  For many years I bordered on pessimism and trawled the waters of negativity.  Things slowly began to change for me when I hit 40 and promptly had a stroke (which I detailed in my first post).  Now almost 4 years removed from the “event” (doctors like to use that word rather than say “that time you had a stroke that triggered the seizure?  Remember?”  I guess “event” sounds less terrible) I feel less likely to fall into a funk.   I wake up, nothing has fallen off in the night, I am not disoriented or having any event, everyone important to me is in pretty good shape, I have my friends, I have my family and, much to my delight, I have my boyfriend.   Everything else is gravy.   For someone who took anti-depressants at one time this is huge.

Now some would say I live in a fool’s paradise.  That eventually I will work again.  And be back to commuting and dealing with all the ridiculousness corporate America dishes up.  And get back to being bummed.  But after a year of not having work define any part of me, I feel like I know who I am much better, like who I am and can really cope with the rest.  Relish what I enjoy about any given job, do it all to the best of my ability, and label the rest as just the annoyance you put up with for a steady paycheck and health insurance.  

Just the same I bought tickets for tomorrow night’s megamillions drawing.

I am amazed at myself.  I have killed a cactus.  How?  How can you kill a cactus?  I don’t know.  I followed the watering directions (few and far between).  Maybe I left it in the wrong kind of light.   I have never been good with plants.  Maybe it is a good thing I don’t have kids.  If I can kill a cactus for God’s sake! 

Well it is time for Jeopardy!  I get lots of answers right.  I would try out but KNOW that the day I was on every category would have to do with math and science, my buzzer would stick and I would get all sweaty on TV.   Not with all those people watching, thank you!

Later gator.

 

 

 

Rambling On… It’s what I do

Edit:  This should have appeared before “I Could Swear…” which I wrote today, may 6.  I did this one April 25 and it somehow ended up in drafts.  

It has been a shocking 10 days since my last post.  When I started this project I had hoped to post daily or at least every other day.  But either I have been really busy or so un-busy that a thought has not crept through my brain.

But today I have thoughts.   Not major ones.  My brain is not doing “major” thinking lately.

Is anyone besides me afraid that by the time November comes around we will be so sick of these people that we will just write in our own names?  I am tempted.  As each day passes, I like all three of them less and less.   I really wonder why we just don’t have a national primary/caucus day and be done with it.  If any of you know, I would be interested to hear it.  Is the reasoning now outdated?  

I am annoyed with myself for never having done the cleaning I had so blithely and optimistically described several weeks ago.  And it has to get done because even I — the least domestic of all the goddesses — am depressed just looking at the place.

The much anticipated interview never happened.  So I am still unemployed.  And still liking it.  Is it un-American to say that work blows and except for a paycheck there does not seem to be much merit in it?  Maybe it is just the work I do. 

I helped my mother clean out her attic.  Hahaha.  The stuff that was up there!  I found my copy of “Are You There God?  It’s Me, Margaret”.  Any girl who was a pre-teen/early teen in the 1970s (and probably beyond) has read this one.  How we couldn’t wait to get our periods!  (and how stupid that wish was when they finally came).  How our boobs were not coming in fast enough (We Must, We Must, We Must Increase Our Bust!  Admit it ladies, we all tried that little exercise!)   I re-read it the other day and was surprised by how much I remembered.  I also found a classic Nancy Drew (which I re-read as well).   The unlikelihood of things happening as they did was lost on me all those years ago, but, geez, she was more lucky than smart.  But how I loved her.   I also found — and mercilessly teased my sister afterwards– a half written letter she wrote to the boy she was dating at 15.  She called him a “Greek god.”  I remember him well.  A scrawny, pimply 15 year old boy with some sort of fuzz on his face.  How we women (at any age!) can spin reality into fantasy and believe it.   It was a lot of work but we found some things that really made us laugh.  Dad’s leisure suits.  Mom’s polyester orange flowered long dress.  Pictures.  Memories of some pretty good times.   I also found a ticket stub for “A Chorus Line” from 1983.  Balcony seat:  $8.50.  That same seat probably goes for at least $75 today.  I also found ticket stubs for a Shaun Cassidy concert.  LOL.  Attic cleaning is good for the soul…not so much for the back.

Spent some yummy time with the boyfriend this week.  This week’s comic relief?  A bee was buzzing loudly between the window and his blinds.  He decided to do something about it.  I, recalling what I learned at the Bee Movie, said to spray some water on him as they cannot fly with wet wings.  (I was not for killing it because of the bee population problem.  But I was not for getting stung either.)   So as he is busily acting like Bee Sprayer General he suddenly realized he was naked in front of his window, flailing about.  The way the blinds were I doubt you could get a good look.  I suggested to him that he may have made some bored housewife’s day.   He certainly made mine.  But then, he always does.  Some time ago I was fretting because we never argue, even when we disagree.  How can this be a real relationship when there is little conflict and very little pain inflicted by one on the other?   That might tell you something about my history.  That this good stuff would cause me worry.  But it is good and I am happy.  And trying not to mumble about waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Next weekend I am off to Boston for my baby cousin’s graduation.  She is getting a master’s in finance.  She is bright.  She is cute.  And I worry about her because she lacks  the ability to compromise.  Everything with her is black and white.  I fear this will cause her unnecessary pain.  I think it already has.  But it will be a good time.  And a welcome change of scene.  And maybe we can have a little talk.

And these ramblings are all for today.

 

I Could Swear…

I had posted more recently than April 15 but then again.   The days do fly by and it hardly seems possible that we are a week into May already.

I spent this past weekend in Boston where I went to see my young cousin receive her MA in Economics.  I really envy her.  Twenty four,  a cute apartment in the most charming neighborhood, a job she has just started but really likes in a company that is clearly not stuffy and soul-crushing and a whole world of possibilities out there.  

When I was 24 I was working for the nuttiest woman I had ever met (to that point), in a stimulating atmosphere where 2 hour lunches and 10% raises were the norm.  (Yes, the 80’s were a good time!)  I was dating a much older man who was charming, smart, accomodating, hot and who taught me a lot.  (Minds out of the gutter please! Yes, I learned a few things in that area but he also taught me a lot about life in general — many things I use to this day).   I felt that I had the world at my feet back then.

Now, 20 years later, I wonder what happened.  How did I end up with essentially nothing?   It never occurred to me back then that I would single and childless in my 40s.  That I would be looking for work that I knew was meaningless.  That work would become about a paycheck and nothing else.   i guess I am just a little depressed today.  I just feel old and tired and unenthusiastic.

I just remembered.  I DID do another post!  It entailed the details of cleaning out my mother’s attic!   It was good!  It never appeared! 

And I don’t have the energy to rewrite it.  Maybe it is in the draft pile.

This is certainly not a cheerful post.  Maybe I will feel better tomorrow.  Maybe things will seem less dreary.