...to living life out loud is you can lose your anonymity. It's not like I'm famous or anything, though I confess to being a legend in my own mind. But people do read the blog. Most don't... but folks do check on me.
Hey, I just realized my blog is now two years old, as of yesterday. I actually meant to write yesterday, but it kind of gets back to what I was just saying.
I started writing to give the Voices a place to vent. They were making me nuts. I had a job back then... was making some money in my career and bills were pretty much paid and pretty much on time, I was at war with SD (then known as IFKALP) and life was OK. Well except for the love life.
So since then I've made peace with SD, have had no job for over a year, NOTHING.... and I do mean NOTHING is paid (except for the Internet and the lights cuz those things I refuse to live without) and I gotta say... generally I'm happier. And I've actually developed some semblance of a love life. Well... a sex life. The love thing I'm working on. Last spring I though I'd found love but Black August proved otherwise, and since then I've been EXTREMELY cautious.
But then I had a strange realization the other day and that is that the Fabulous and I have been in fairly constant contact of some sort since the end of August. And ick but I've come to depend on it... like in a huge way. In my head I've re-named him "JiminyCricket"cuz of the fairly regular buzzing in my pocket that accompanies text messages. Ideas feel better when I run them past him. And the occasional time spent with him is always time well spent and goes by way too fast... but I have lost all confidence in my ability to build or maintain any kind of a relationship with anybody, I realize. And my life is such a shambles right now that I would feel horribly guilty trying to make a relationship with anybody... but with him most of all. Early on, we had talked about the pain of caring for someone... of bringing someone to flower only to have them discover inner strength and leave you. I had promised myself then and there that whatever major issues I had--and there are a few--I would resolve them before I got involved with him because it didn't seem fair to do it that to him again... and I'm a needy bitch right now. Not that I would heal and then leave... but he might think so. So I've tried to keep my needs under wraps and take care of them myself. But everyone needs someone...
And resolving issues takes time... especially financial ones and I'm beginning to stress about time passing. I think the idea of "time passing" is generally something that stresses women out way more than it stresses men... as BigBear once pointed out, women posses a clock that is fairly regular at marking time--our menstrual cycles. At some point, somewhere in the neighborhood of 28-35 days you will realize another month has gone by.
It could very well be that my need for him is one-sided. It could be that I'm only used to him being around. I dunno. But I'm not digging the idea of taking too much time to resolve my shit and look up to find him otherwise occupied.
So then I wonder about others I have met recently, come into contact with. And enjoy a friendship with. But it's getting to the point where--as rare as my free time is and as hard as it is to come by--I'd rather spend it with JiminyCricket than with anyone else. And this really distresses me cuz I'm not sure what this means. I find myself wanting to do the chick thing and "talk" but knowing guys like I do...ugh. It's not something guys do well at all. Or want to.
Occasionally I write him to let him know where I'm at, and I don't ask that he answer, and generally I feel better doing it and generally his response is pretty reassuring... simply that he read it, and he understands. And usually I'm good with that. But then I start to wonder again...
I think what I like about him is he isn't floored by me. He gets me... he follows my reasoning and he can spot where I get stuck, but he just kind of makes note of it and rolls along. This works for me. And the thought of not having that, well... it's stressing me. But at the moment it's not really something I feel comfortable pushing. My brain tells me "let it be... let it rest". But my heart tends to the histrionic.
So I haven't wanted to write cuz now people know but whatever. It's beginning to make me a little nuts and it's got to come out.
Though there are MUCH larger and more important issues I need to address... like bills. And a job. Or at least the ability to bring in income. I quit the factory job the other day. I couldn't take it anymore. In a conversation with JiminyCricket we were weighing the pros and cons of doing part time or full time jobs that help you while you get your own creative thing going. But his two part time jobs actually relate to his artistic talent. Mine... the pros to the factory gig were that I remembered that I knew how to sew, I got introduced to the concept of stress factors in fabric, I got introduced to modern fabrics that are designed to withstand stress, and I learned my way around a power machine.
But the factory mentality I just couldn't get into. The worker bees work... but they also practice time-shaving techniques and are prone to gossip. The supervisor bees work, but they also tend to want to keep track of and correct the worker bees and monitor the time-shaving. And they are also prone to gossip. If you hang out with the worker bees you come under scrutiny by the supervisor bees (which pisses me the hell off) and if you fraternize with the supervisor bees the worker bees--with whom you spend more time--regard you with suspicion. My answer was just to put on my headphones and not talk to anybody. But that gets a little lonely. Added to the fact that every hour I spent sewing, my mind was beating me up about the time I could have spent doing something else making twice as much money and it severely depressed me.
I'd been out the last two weeks while Poppy's health issues manifested themselves. I couldn't deal with that that AND the factory. And last Monday I found it was way too easy--despite desperately needing some chump change--to call in sick in favor of spending time with JiminyCricket. So Tuesday I quit. But I left it open... maybe when it's warmer and things settle down I can tolerate the thought of going back. But I doubt it.
So speaking of Poppy... health-wise he's 1,000 times better. They're working him with physical and occupational therapy, and generally he's done extraordinarily well. But I'm kind worried about the percoset dependence. I don't like it. At all. I don't think he's in as much physical pain as he was before... matter of fact I know he's not cuz even with one leg he's moving around a lot better than he was moving around with two. And I'm glad he's not in pain but the stuff makes him a little loopy at times and that distresses me. But... I guess he deserves it. What the hell do I know. I have two legs. I suppose it's me wanting things to be somewhat normal.
We're all still in la-la land really, because he's still in rehab. The real test will be when they kick him out, maybe in a week or so... and that's when we'll realize how very different things are.
SD is coming next week to spend time with the Sun. We had discussed a deal where he pays me a lump sum in advance, in exchange for reducing his weekly payments. It will help pay rent. It will also be money I don't have to pay back. Who would have ever thought that SD would be the one to bail me out. And while I'm grateful.... I just don't want him to think we're gonna get back together. Though I don't think he does. He had said to me way early in our relationship that he never wanted to marry.... and I wonder if our situation worked out for the best for both of us...