Who Put This Monday Here?

I stole that title from my friends blog.  It seems so appropriate.  It's Monday, the one child has gone back to school, the other one is "homeschooling" this week, and that man has gone back to work.  Even though he went to work yesterday, too.

And, I'm tired.  I had explained to the homeschooler that he had to help me with chores this week.  And, now, when I say, do it, I'm getting some serious sighing and eye rolling.  I could just slap him.  I'm talking using the machines to do laundry here, folks, not painting the dining room.  Of course, all the homeschooling he was supposed to do last week?  Didn't happen, because I wasn't here to prod him along.  So he has twice as much to do this week, so he thinks he shouldn't have to help with the laundry.  I hate teenagers.  I may have to call and apologize to my mother again, for ever being one.

Also, that man had forgotten that he had to do school delivery this week.  I'm lucky I mentioned it last night, or I might have woken up pretty much abandoned.  And he doesn't have the brownie points banked to cover *that*. 

Basically, I'm dealing with the usual shit, with a much smaller amount than my regularly recommended amount of "cope" available.  I keep reminding myself of that.  Besides, I'm too damn tired to pack up and leave.  Do they count on that?  Of course not, they're aspies.  They are too thoughtless to think that far.

Right, Then

So, I had the surgery.  I'm told it went really well and I got out of the hospital in the time expected.  I'm sore and I'm not supposed to do a large variety of things for a while, while my core recovers, but mostly I'm okay.  I noticed yesterday that as the day progresses, I get more sore as I tire.  All to be expected.

I had some interesting thoughts and then questions about hospital care while I was in there.  It seemed that at the beginning, there was lots of care, but by the end, there was a passive-aggressive "go away" vibe going on.  I don't know if that's just how hospitals work, or if it was a product of how I was doing or what, but I know I didn't like it. 

Also, I had all these thoughts about getting into shape.  Because if getting older is going to include trips to hospitals, I should be in better shape for it.  It may have been the drugs talking.  I *think* about getting into better shape every day.  But it hasn't actually  happened, so I don't know that I should go counting on it just yet.

The house, as expected, was a pit when I got back.  The dishwasher had broken a day or two before surgery, and apparently the people I live with are incapable of doing dishes by hand.  Since I got back, that man has ripped out the dishwasher, fixed it, but not re-installed it.  That last bit should happen in a day or two, I think.  I went out to the kitchen a while a go and all the dirty dishes are gone and dishwasher is running.  So, progress, of a sort.

I will say that major surgery is at least distracting from all the emo shit.  Maybe I'll come down somewhere different when I'm all over the physical stuff.  That was hope that just happened right there, in public, wasn't it?  Remarkable.

I've been reading lots of pagan blogs and seeing some predictions for 2011 and one I read is particularly distressing, predicting *martial law* for around August.  Bleah.  I suppose I will start doing the stocking up/prepping thing again.

Nervous and Crabby

I have surgery tomorrow.  I will be doing laxatives today.  Oh joy.  I'm irritable.  That man is trying to 'be here' for me, and that is very annoying.  He's got the right idea, but it feels like too little, too late.  I've braced myself to do this without any emotional support, and his attempts are only illustrating that usually I have to do without.

Fuck Nice

Today, I got fed up.  I'm tired of being sad and depressed and frightened.  I got mad.

And that's not a bad thing, right now.  I say, Fuck Nice.  I keep waiting for the world to be nice back to me, to somehow reward me for my niceness.  It ain't working, I'm noticing.  I'm a timid old lady.  And I'm changing that, right now.

Focus

I am aware that I "should" focus on good things.  For my mental health and any desire to helpfully use the Law of Attraction / magick theory to my benefit.  What I don't know is how to go about this.  So many unpleasant things have happened, I'm just braced against any more.  And, of course, I get to feel guilty/responsible for those things, BECAUSE of the LoA / magick theory.  Thanks so much, over-developed responsibility gland.  I get to blame myself for the ugly bits, but don't get to change the future.  Bleah.  Talk about learned helplessness.

Currently choosing numb, because anything else involves crying.

Maybe I should do what that cancer guy did a couple of decades ago and just rent a huge amount of comedies and watch them repeatedly, just to practise laughing.

Wrote This Elsewhere Today, Saving Here

During the recent economic unpleasantness, my favorite hubby got laid off up in Portland and could not find anything else there. He found a job in Silicon Valley, though. So, here we are. I had lived in Portland for 18 years, considered it my home and was quite reluctant to leave.

It has been a hell of a couple years for me, with various and diverse alarums, disappointments and personal setbacks. I want desperately to not be sad or depressed or frightened anymore, so I've only just started seeing a counselor. (second appointment tomorrow...) While I really should meet people and make some new friends, I worry that I'm currently too crabby and self-absorbed to actually do so.

Historically, I would say that I'm poly, that I just up and fall in love and see no problem with loves overlapping. Pretty damn quick, too. However, it's been years since I've done that. Probably because I had not met many new men in those years, either. Also, I've developed a certain cautious diffidence, as I try to be an actual grown-up and pay attention to the realities, rather than the fantasy. I'm willing to indulge in hope, yet I don't want to be completely naive, as I have done so often in the past.

So much for consistency

I spent so much time reading other blogs yesterday, I "forgot" to post. 

I will say, there are a lot of interesting people saying stuff out here.  I seriously doubt that I will be one of them anytime soon.  This is more a private thing, I wonder why I'm putting it out for anyone in the world to peer at?

I've spent several days doing nothing.  And that's exhausting.  So I'm doing piles of laundry today, and running a few necessary errands.  Today is the last day of winter break, school starts up again for the boys tomorrow, and I've got a busy week of health related activities, including a hysterectomy on Wednesday, that will sort of fill of the following several days.  There's an appointment with the nice counselor lady tomorrow, too.  I never can see what the point of counseling is in advance, but I keep going back.  Hope springs eternal and all that.

I'm tired.  And lonely.  And bored.  And bored of being depressed, if that makes any sense.  But sad seems to be taking the cake these days. 

I just don't see the point anymore.  I can't tell you want I want to do/be/have, all I can do is point to most of the things surrounding me and say, "Not THIS.  Not this.  Oh dear Goddess, no more of this."  <sniff>

I'm tired of crying, too.