and I warn you, this is a spaghetti post. There's no way to really tell the story otherwise.
The sleepless thing has really been worse than usual. Normally I keep myself up for the quiet, but then by the time I fall into bed, I just go "black". But there are times when I know I'm in trouble; I get in bed at 3, 4am, and every little noise aggravates me; the cat snoring (yes, he snores poor thing), the water from the dehydrated fish tank trickling (that damn goldfish just won't die no matter how much I neglect it), the ghost/stereo hissing... or the buses starting to run. When I hear the buses I know I'm in trouble cuz that means it's going on 5:30AM. And I have to get up at 6:30--latest--to get the Sun up for school, so Shoefly can take him in to the city for school. That works because when there's no karate I bring the boys home.
I like writing or working at night because I don't get interrupted by phones, or people, or hungry children or cats but the problem is that I fall asleep doing it. Several times. So by the time I'm done doing whatever I've started, it's 3 or 4A, but I probably have slept an hour or two. Last night was pretty bad... I was really aggravated by several things (including the elections) so I didn't get to bed till 4:30A. Got up, got the Sun out by 7:10A, back in the house by 7:20A. Re-set my alarm so that I'd wake up at 9A. But I woke up at noon. Shit! So then I had to hustle because today is ViolinDay, and I needed to get the Sun to his lesson 15 minutes early because some renowned cellist was coming to play for the kids and watch them rehearse. So I shower and get the coffee going. But since the coffee intake was late, the migraine had already begun to creep in around the edges.
Dressed, it's now 2:30P (I've accomplished nothing useful other than noticing my unemployment hadn't been deposited), and I decide to put the coffee in my thermos so I can drink on it as I get ready to leave. I need to be on that 2:30 bus to get to the school by 3:30P so I can get the kid to violin. Only I realize that TF has sent the Sun a package that needs to be picked up... and because I neglected to sign the slip, the mailperson wouldn't deliver it for another two days. I decide to skip the 2:30 bus and walk up to the post office, get the package and get on the bus there. Thermos in hand, I grab the P.O. slip and my bag, and head out the door. Neighbor had brought up the mail; there was a letter to me telling me that my Unemployment Benefits were temporarily suspended because I'd missed a mandatory interview with them. Fuckers. I didn't know it was MANDATORY... and I'd missed both days, the first time cuz I fucked up but the second time the Sun was sick. I'd even called to find out what to do, and they never called back. Whatever. I just have to go tomorrow. So I bring the notice in the house and then leave the apartment.
Get a block down and realize maybe I need better ID to pick up the package. Check my bag... no wallet. Shit. So I walk back to the house, only to realize, shit. No keys either. Neighbor happened to be home from work today cuz I saw her in the morning when I was coming back from taking the Sun to the bus stop... but she wasn't home. Luckily, I always keep my Metrocard either in my jacket or my bag, I know Neighbor will be home by the time I get home so no worries. I'll just go get the Sun. Sucks not to have money, but I vaguely remember slipping $20 into the little wallet on my keychain. But oh yeah... no keys.
Fuck it. Get on the bus that comes just before 3P. The bus and train made good time, so I look up at 3:30P and realize that we're already at 'Two Five.
Except the train stops cold, right outside the 'Two-Five station. And sits. By now, I realize I'm not going to be able to get the Sun to violin early. We sit some more, no announcements or anything until the conductor suddenly announces the train will be ending at Two-Five and everyone must exit the train. At the front. I was in the back... second-to-last car. So me and the rest of the train walk ALL THE WAY from the back of the train to the very front... the very first door of the whole train that had just barely made it into the station. And was barely one train-car length from the back of the train in front of it. And lots and lots and lots of steamy-looking smoke at the far end of the station. It didn't smell acrid, like fire-smoke... it looked like a steampipe burst or something.
So, most people, especially me, exit the subway station. Knowing that the buses, which aren't that frequent, would be slow and overcrowded, I start to walk down Lexington avenue. At about 118th, a very crowded bus stops in front of me, so me and about 5 other people get on through the back door. Hell... my Metrocard would have given me a free transfer so I felt no guilt. It was unbelievably hot and steamy... I thought I was going to pass out. My head hurts but the coffee that's still hot has kept it from getting much worse, but it's adding to the bodytemperature. I get to the street where the Sun's school is, and walk towards his school, and as I go in I see the bus we need to go uptown to Violin passing. Which means it'll be another half hour before the next one. It was 4:15P.
Get the Sun and the Moon, who lately has been a most annoying child, and wait until like 4:45 for the next bus, getting to violin too late for the Sun's regular lesson.
But the visiting cellist turned out to be Alban Gerhardt--who in my musically uneducated way I'd never heard of before. But he was fabulous. Engaging, warm, funny and sorta hot! But supremely talented. He watched the kids in an "open rehearsal" type forum, and it was funny to see their concern at being interrupted and corrected by Roberta during a "performance". Once Roberta explained that it was OK, they went with the flow and did very well. The Moon at first wanted no parts of watching, but he snuck in later and actually enjoyed himself. After the kids played, Mr. Gerhardt played (eyes shut... no music, some very complicated pieces) and then there was a question-and-answer period. A kid asked why he chose the cello (he said the cello chose him) and another kid asked how long did he practice (usually every day on specific pieces or short amounts of time. Today he practiced 3 hours). Someone else asked why the cello was so big. He was playing a cello that was 300 years old (the kids marveled at that) and that it was rumored to have once been owned by Mussolini (the parents gasped at that). The Moon asked him if he ever played in the subway (no, he was too afraid of getting the cello hurt or stolen). His answers were humorous and straightforward, and not at all condescending or snotty. Looking him up later, I saw he has a kid of his own, so I guess he's used to kids. Which just made him all the more likable. He definitely gained some new fans today.
So that experience helped defray the overall fuckery of the day, but I still have a headache.
And there's still shit going on. I've been quiet because when I'm the throes of whatever, I hate bitching about it. I usually can't vent until it's over and/or I feel better. One of the malfunctions I've been suffering with is Nene-withdrawal. I hadn't been able to talk to him since his phone was reclaimed, and it sucked way more than I anticipated. It actually sucked really bad. I tell him that whenever two people have any sort of regular dealings with each other, it's a "relationship" but the question is--what kind. Well, I dunno what kind. It is what it is what it's not what it may or may not be. Huge age difference notwithstanding, he amuses the hell out of me, and plus I just like talking to him. In certain ways we see things very much alike... which is unusual because I know I'm insane.
Or maybe not. I watched Law & Order/Criminal Intent tonight, and Vincent Donofrio had gone on a rogue undercover mission at a mental hospital. At one point near the end of the episode he said something about always asking himself if he was insane. The mere fact that he asks himself that question indicates that he's not. That would be me. I ask myself how crazy I really am just about every day. On the train earlier today it suddenly occurred to me (as I was listening to Amy Winehouse) that I am about as fucked up insane outlandish and drugged out as anybody, and totally relate to crazy people like Amy Winehouse and Fiona Apple, only without the drugs and alcohol. The thing is, I don't like being out of control. I need controlled chaos. I think it's why I do things like have clutter and a messy desk or get fired or miss mandatory appointments or am chronically late because it's a chaos I can control. When things get really scary I can USUALLY pull it together and step back from the brink. But I need that feeling of walking the edge. But I don't like drugs because they dull the senses. I used to love weed, but I noticed it made me REALLY antisocial--I hate people most days, but weed made it much, much worse. I love alcohol but at some point it's easy to lose control--and plus the next day/hangover thing really bites. But I was wondering about meds today... suppose I need them? Not necessarily for depression, but maybe ADD. Maybe if I were on Prozac or Welbutrin, maybe I'd function better and people wouldn't annoy me so much. Are there meds for narcissistic tendencies? Should I take them?
At the beginning of TF's and my adventure in Family Court, we had to have a forensic evaluation. While TF basically came out nuts, I came out looking OK except for my "narcissistic tendencies". The report said I tended to have an over-inflated view of myself, and that I had an unrealistic view of what I would do in certain situations. At first I bristled... then I thought "What's wrong with a little self-esteem?" And as time goes on, I've had to admit to my over-inflated view of myself and what I would do in certain situations. The Professor had said "well, he needed to say something a little negative about you, otherwise the report may seem biased." At first I thought that might be true... but no, I think I agree with it. I know it's right because I had no problem accepting it. I think it's right because I can sit and say that I hate people and the things they do... but I could never say I hate myself. Despite the fact that I do very many of the same annoying things most people do... miss mandatory appointments, have inappropriate relationships (that's what Bigbear called my relationship with Nene), focus only on myself and my own problems--many of them of my own making. You know, stuff like that. I annoy myself but I don't hate myself. In fact, I like myself very much, which is a problem when I've nothing to show for it.
But Nene seems to get me... at least it seems that way, and I get a kick out of the fact that he also likes himself very much, and like me doesn't have a lot to show for it. So I was missing him very much, and being very mad at myself for missing him. Then he called Monday, basically to tell me that he and I and babymama will have an occasion to all be in the same room together sometime soon. And I was so glad to hear from him I didn't have time to second-guess myself or the fact that he never said he missed me or anything like that. By today, the second-thoughts were kicking in and I was getting annoyed with myself again and ready to throw in the towel and just forget him, but then I talked to him. He was vaguely threatening to go into the military. The last time he said that, I told him he couldn't... I loved him and needed him to stay. That I know I'm not the one he loves, but I'm the one that loves him and he needs to stay. Today, I only told him that he wouldn't be happy. That unfortunately, he's got to follow his own path and stay true to his heart or he'll never be happy. Like me--I can't be anything other than what I am.
So yeah. It's been a fuckery of a day... a fuckery of the past few weeks. Much of it my own making, I know. It's always amusing to me that I was so buttoned-up as a younger woman. Everyone thought I was business-like and smart and had it all together. I always wore pantyhose and my scarves matched my suits. I had good jobs and made good money. They all worried about the Professor... she sort of zig-zagged through life without a plan. Now she has two jobs and a degree and teaches and has pithy thoughts, and I stay up late and spew my narcissistic tendencies into the universe and have inappropriate (but mostly sexless) relationships with much younger men. If I took meds it could all change but then what fun would I have?
I still have other things to write... why I think men my age are full of shit (a MySpace friend asked why I thought that... I told him I'd write about it) and why I hate Black History Month and then update those who care about TF and his ongoing madness but I still have a migraine and I've taken 4 Exedrin today, so I think I should just go to bed. Cuz I have to go to Unemployment tomorrow to get my benefits reinstated...