Sleepy

Am cranky ... But I think it was worth it. I seriously can't tell if it is straight up exhaustion, or I'm still drunk, or I'm hungover ... At any rate I don't feel so hot .. Though my coworker says I look good. I need someone to talk to me so I don't pass out at my too loud keyboard. I am certain Lee is dead to the world by now ... I wonder if I could go home sick? ... No, that would be wrong. It s my own damn fault I feel like shit. I need to stick out the work day. There is many another thing that exhaustion is prompting me to write ... But for now I shall resist and if I have the urge to write them when I am sober and rested I shall write them ... Though I doubt I will write them then. By then they will most likely seem silly or stupid. I can not repeat enough how loud my keyboard is. God, I want to go home ... But not on Carlton's last day. My eyes sting and I feel like crap. I moved and did a little heavy lifting ... Now I feel a bit better.. I plan to do nothing today. Especially since to fill out the rest of this survey report I would need to get out the Plat book and look up the STR. I ain't doing that today. I wish Lee would wake up so he can entertain me. I realize he has only been asleep 2 hours ... But still. I want him to get up and keep me awake. Ghost pain. Bugger. Lee was awake and talking to me ... But I think he went to sleep again. Yuck. I found the STR. Moving on. I'm really cold. and sleepy. I'm starting to feel ill again Found a new scar today ... It is on my forehead above my left eye. Talking on the phone for so long threw my jaw out of whack. It is doing that metallic clicking thing every time I open my mouth and it hurts.

Dead girl sleep walking

Might vomit from too much coffee... At this point it is just making me twitchy ... Not awake. Someday I should sleep. And FOR the love of GOD will someone make my keyboard quieter?

Lordy, I love this song

I love the chorus ... the idea of "nearly almost always" doing "nearly almost anything" for someone.
Dawn looked through the wall
Where she saw the end
Then someone shuffled papers
And she returned again
She covered her ears in anger
And stomped out of the door
She later made her way to the elevator
Afraid to step on the first floor
She said “let me have my way
And let me hold you tight
I will not let you go
I will not let you fight
“You, you know I'd do for you again
You, you know I'd do for you again
Nearly almost always nearly almost anything”
Midnight peeped through the window
And crept through the keyhole
Like a fog, like a memory
And into the bedroom it stole
She waited and waited the sun had faded
“Just great” she said “face it I need to relax”
So she closed her eyes
She took a deep breath
She crawled off into the bath
“Let me have my way
And let me hold you tight
I will not let you go
I will not let you fight
“You, you know I'd do for you again
You, you know I'd do for you again
Nearly almost always nearly almost anything”
She knew inside a heart is a complicated thing
You cannot treat it like a baby
You cannot treat it like a king
What in the hell do you treat it like
Defeated like you see it like you don't understand
You feed it and leave it and hope someone will need it
And be the best you can
“Let me have my way
And let me hold you tight
I will not let you goI will not let you fight
“You, you know I'd do for you again
You, you know I'd do for you again
"Nearly almost always nearly almost anything

Fucking Christ! (I bet he is a divine lay)

Feeling a little abandoned. Some of it is my fault ... some is totally out of my control.

"I hate you! Don't leave me."

Am I being punished? I think I might be. Unless I mellow out soon ... I think I'll stick to soda tonight.

I am sure some of it is paranoia ... you aren't leaving me too, are you? If you were ... you wouldn't be cruel about it, right? You would let me beg you to stay and maybe even consider it, before telling me 'No I have to go.' And when I screamed 'Fine! You fucker, leave' You would know I'm not angry, I'm hurt. I know I can be taxing. I know I can be mean. I know I don't always treat people the way they need to be treated ... And I stir up trouble. Knowing me can be a liability and a curse. Clean breaks are easier ... You can pretend that it all never happened. Purge your life of all the scraps and remnants of me. Tuck all memories of me in a dusty little attic corner or smoke them out with chemicals, or drown them in alcohol. None of it ever happened. You were tripping, you were confused. 'Amber? The name sounds familiar ... But I don't think I know her.'

Secrets don't make friends

Everyone is crying and an era is ending ... Can you believe I came back here for some fucking stability? I hate enigmatic 'blog posts (Mr. Nunn) ... But in this case I'm bonded and legally liable if I talk too soon.

I really do have a good Poker face. Years of keeping secrets ... Secrets so secret that no one is even supposed to know that there is anything to know ... This time it is not that bad. The really bad stuff, the stuff no one is supposed to know ... Ever ... Somehow that stuff is easier to keep. That stuff I will take to my grave. The 'not-so-bad' stuff is harder to keep ... I don't know why. And of course keeping everyone else's secrets makes me a bit chatty about my own stuff. It is like I only have room for so many secrets ... And I know I can't tell OTHER people's secrets so I share my own because I couldn't possibly hold on to it all.

Every type of work has its own language.

Sometimes the things that I say freak me out. My boss came wandering out of his office and asked me if there had just been someone in the office ... To which I responded "Yeah, a surveyor. He had an old copy of what looked like an MSA CSM from ROD but there was no CSM number and we checked the unrecorded file but it wasn't there and it wasn't misfiled with the plats so I sent them down 33 to MSA. Weird thing is the guy said there were irons and it is a '78."

Huh?

Le silence eternel de ces espaces infinis m'effraie.

Ah, the silence as the under grads sleep off last nights bender ... And the post grads study/ take exams ... And the rest of us work. (a little)

I approve this message

I just went to the bathroom (the gallons of Diet Coke I drink make me have to pee a lot, but I digress) I looked at myself in the mirror as I was washing my hands and realized that I am dressed like a Senator's wife. (O.K. Maybe my skirt should be a LITTLE longer for a Senator's wife ... But its pretty close!) Chocolate brown Ann Taylor loafers, a chocolate brown Ann Taylor skirt, a baby pink cable knit sweater ... (I forget where I got it ... Might be Gap...so that might spoil the illusion a bit) To top it all off? A pale pink and dark brown paisley print silk scarf draped over one shoulder and tied around my neck. ... I probably wouldn't have thought much of the whole look but as I was washing my hands I thought "Hmm, my scarf just isn't staying in place how I want ... I'll have to pin on a brooch when I go home at lunch." A WHAT?!? WTF?!? A Fucking Brooch? Have I lost my FREAKING mind? Probably ... But I'm sure it will return ... Until then I will secure my scarf with a brooch. (Which is Amber to match my ring and earrings ... NOOOOOOOOOOOO!)

Hurts so good...

So last night while I was lying around like a big, fat, slug I became suddenly inspired and started doing my old yoga routine (Corpse into cobra into cow into child into downward-facing-dog into plank into side plank ... Lotus into inverted lotus (a couple of other positions I forget the names of and I am not about to look up images of Tantric yoga at work) into your favorite and mine! (really, it is my favorite) CLOUD! Mountain to re-center then three variations on Warrior pose (yes, I am a Strong Warrior, a Fierce Warrior, and a Quiet Warrior) with Triangle mixed in and some Bow to continue the whole hunter war theme. I was feeling so good at that point that I did 20 min of Pilates and cooled down with some more CLOUD! (good LORD I love me some Cloud!*)

So anyway, the reason I'm telling everyone about my Yoga routine is ... I had forgotten how great Yoga is, how quickly it improves your mood, energy level, and posture. Now, I can't move like I did in my Yoga heyday and I can't hold my postures for the lengths of time I once did (Di may remember me watching TV at AZD in inverted lotus pose.) But I still feel great (I got up today and did an easy 20 min routine to prevent stiffness after last nights free-for-all.) My glutes and quads and even my abs (a little) hurt in that Oh-So-Good workout way. (Not stiff and painful ... But I can feel it) That is what I love about Yoga. 12 hours later my posture is better, because my posture is better my clothes fit better and I am more focused.

I started doing Yoga a LONG ass time ago to help with my "little episodes" (ease depression, anxiety, and anger) I have long believed that if you are a little ... *ahem* unbalanced you can do wonders for your mental well-being with diet, exorcise and meditation (to maintain self-awareness so you can tell when diet and exorcise aren't enough). Lately I have been eating crap and sitting around like a lump. I have been "meditating" ... But in an obsessive unhealthy way. Yesterday's 3 fun filled hours of panic attack were a hard slap in the face. My body was screaming "Wake up stupid! Do something about this NOW while you still can." So when I cleaned yesterday into the trash went the crap foods while veggies and lean meats remained, treats (while fatty) are better options than processed sugar (such as cashew butter ... Mmm cashew butter) and I did my Yoga! Hurrah!

*My love of the Cloud position is 4 fold.
1. It is fantastic for stretching your hamstrings, glutes, back and neck. ... Basically your whole backside.
2. I find it really comfortable ... In my Yoga heyday I actually fell asleep in the Cloud position ... I find it that comfortable.
3. It is the only "purely" Tantric position I do regularly (meaning that there is VERY little crossover of Cloud into other forms of Yoga. You are VERY unlikely to find Cloud on any Yoga tape or in any Yoga book not related to Tantra.) Which leads me to number 4...
4. When people see me doing Cloud they inevitably go "Damn!" (Which amuses me greatly) Doesn't matter if it is a man or woman, gay or straight ... Eyes go wide. (A lot of men ask me to teach them to do it too.)

A mini description of Cloud (for the unfamiliar) I like to start in Lotus then roll up onto my shoulders with my arms supporting my lower back (to prevent back and neck strain). From the inverted Lotus I uncross and straighten my legs I then slowly bend at the knees and hips until my knees are over my forehead. I lower my knees to the floor until they are resting on the floor next to my ears and my shins are lying along the floor. That is Cloud. (Now if you followed all of that you understand why guys want me to teach them how to do it. ... In a very limber person your face is only a few inches away from your crotch.)

Job Hunt

Applying for a position with Sauk County Human Services Dept.. I am totally qualified ... but afraid that my Mother or Michelle, or someone else here at the county might 86 my application in an attempt to better me.

That was a close one!

It occurs to me that I have recently reached the point that my lack of a sex life is no longer a constant irritant. Like any loss mourned there was a few weeks in which I couldn't go 24 hours with out thinking "Damn! I am so not getting laid today!" But with time Over time these thoughts became more and more rare ... Until these past two weekends when I did the unthinkable. I passed up Meaningless, no strings attached sex with two ex's.

Oh God! Panic Attack. I'm going to throw up. My hands are shaking. My heart is racing.
Yes, that was DEFINITELY related to my upcoming job situation. My muscles now feel weak and sore, like I was doing a lot of heavy lifting, because of the adrenaline surge.

Mental clearing house. EVERYTHING MUST GO!

I hate Microsoft Word. Being the strange creature I am I prefer Lotus. (I also type one handed, but with excellent accuracy and decent speed) My parents are eating something that smells exactly like Jelly Belly’s Buttered Popcorn jellybeans taste.

Last night I went to the bar. It was Karaoke Night. Remember kids, when you sing Karaoke you hurt EVERYONE but yourself. (No I did NOT sing) So between trying to kill the pain of listening to other patrons and drink specials I got pretty lit. Poor Lee. I need to let that boy sleep sometimes.

Whenever I sit with a cigarette in the corner of my mouth and my knees apart in my familiar and comfortable slouch I flash back to this summer. I was sitting in just that position … blowing smoke out my nose and the corner of my mouth not occupied by my cigarette … I had a tag on the waistband of my pants that was making me itch so I had my hand in the waist of my pants (being too lazy to get up and change) Jen turned to me and started laughing “It looks so stupid when women do that!” she gestured at me. I shrugged and returned my attention to the episode of Law and Order. She was lying on the couch in her underwear and a t-shirt, and so was in no place to be giving posture and fashion critiques. This summer we lived like college boys … constantly surrounded by a sea of beer bottles and cans, overflowing ashtrays, piles of clothes, plates and bowls of half eaten food, empty food containers, cups of days old coffee, and scattered CDs. Mornings we would get up, make coffee, root through the mess for something to wear to work never speaking. (We knew ourselves and each other well enough to know that morning conversation is an unwelcome intrusion into one’s ‘start of the day rage.’) There comes a point when the filth becomes a source of pride.

I miss Bob. Not soulless, evil, lawyer Bob, but Bob. I am sure he is in the thick of his evil lawyer persona right now with finals coming on … but I want to talk to him after he reclaims his rightful personality because, like I said, I miss him.

My ex-whatever Matt asked me to move away with him, my ex-boyfriend John has done the same. John is upset by the Bush win and wants to move to Canada, Matt is upset because his plan to make everyone hate him, as penance for a life too easily lived, has worked too well.