Mopey Dopey Friday

There truly are things about this holiday I am not liking much.

For one, I am actively dreading taking out the decorations. Why? Because everything this year has been a total SHOVE unless I want to tackle the task alone. And I am shoving on a lot of fronts right now, because I'm certain doing everything myself is a Bad Plan.

And I don't want to open the time capsule that is my Christmas decorations. I really don't need to be reminded that I've been collecting them over twenty years now...and a lot of the people and places I've been that they came from? Are gone. Like they never were - until I open that box at Christmas.

And I get hit with it all over again. The losses are one thing...the lack of any real sense of getting anywhere since then? Crippling.

We are at the same place we were in 2003, essentially. Going backwards, if you really look at it because the house we moved into is now showing the signs of time passing...and we're going to have to do Something about it. Soon.

Welcome to the realization that this has been another wasted year, with little to show for it. Writing the Christmas letter was an exercise in 'try to make this sound interesting, because clearly it's NOT.'

Whole lotta nothing going on.

I'm not going to anymore adoption classes. I've done them three times over already. I don't want to keep visiting websites that never change - or just keep changing as they should, daily updates for other people who get to see things change and grow and mature. Things...develop. Things...change. Up, down or sideways.

Me, I'm pretty certain I'm getting screwed.

Take for instance, losing that 35/40 pounds. I lost a lot of it in my face - which makes me look gaunt...and ancient. I have creases in places there were none this time last year. Yay! (What, plastic surgery? With WHAT.) There's my reward for doing the Right Thing.

The pictures taken at Thanksgiving and so on? I might as well be 65. I'd ignore it except people get kind of pissy when you don't act your age. Go buy clothes? Why - I'm too old for the things I like. (I went and bought some nice, warm sweaters at the thrift store so I could stop wearing the same five outfits Monday through Friday. Sweatshirts with t-shirts underneath, jeans and sneakers. That's it. How sexy is THAT.)

I haven't gotten my hair done in at least six months. Probably longer. Clean and out of my eyes, that's it.

I feel as sexy as a stick of unchewed Wrigley's - and as motivated. Nothing feels good, and thinking about it only frustrates me because when I try it? Nothing. No, wait. Worse than that. Other people get to have fun - when I try it? Nothing.

Yeah, I want to be reminded that I had hopes once. Let's go open that box and find all the decorations when I was getting ready to start a family, was working in the industry and thought I'd actually write something with an intention to get it published. Silly me!

I'm spending my days working where I am constantly reminded I did not get an education in the field I'm working in, and it shows. I have a title that implies a high school education and two years experience, and when I've mentioned it, I've been told to shut up and be proud of it.

Younger brother has decided that my niece (who has worked the last three Thanksgivings) is going to throw Thanksgiving out at my mother's house next year. He's told this to both my niece and Sis - knowing I'd eviscerate him for being a total TWAT. That's my thanks for this year's Thanksgiving. *rolls eyes* Not happening, BTW. That would land it squarely on my mother and that isn't going to happen, either. SHOVE.

I have a very good memory. It's not my friend in cases like this.

I work full time, I go home and go back to work full time. I'm waking up wondering what I forgot to do.

I don't have the energy to be angry. If something bad was actually going on, I'd have at least an excuse.

I'd claim duck nibbling, except they're ignoring me too.

Mopey Dopey Friday

There truly are things about this holiday I am not liking much.

For one, I am actively dreading taking out the decorations. Why? Because everything this year has been a total SHOVE unless I want to tackle the task alone. And I am shoving on a lot of fronts right now, because I'm certain doing everything myself is a Bad Plan.

And I don't want to open the time capsule that is my Christmas decorations. I really don't need to be reminded that I've been collecting them over twenty years now...and a lot of the people and places I've been that they came from? Are gone. Like they never were - until I open that box at Christmas.

And I get hit with it all over again. The losses are one thing...the lack of any real sense of getting anywhere since then? Crippling.

We are at the same place we were in 2003, essentially. Going backwards, if you really look at it because the house we moved into is now showing the signs of time passing...and we're going to have to do Something about it. Soon.

Welcome to the realization that this has been another wasted year, with little to show for it. Writing the Christmas letter was an exercise in 'try to make this sound interesting, because clearly it's NOT.'

Whole lotta nothing going on.

I'm not going to anymore adoption classes. I've done them three times over already. I don't want to keep visiting websites that never change - or just keep changing as they should, daily updates for other people who get to see things change and grow and mature. Things...develop. Things...change. Up, down or sideways.

Me, I'm pretty certain I'm getting screwed.

Take for instance, losing that 35/40 pounds. I lost a lot of it in my face - which makes me look gaunt...and ancient. I have creases in places there were none this time last year. Yay! (What, plastic surgery? With WHAT.) There's my reward for doing the Right Thing.

The pictures taken at Thanksgiving and so on? I might as well be 65. I'd ignore it except people get kind of pissy when you don't act your age. Go buy clothes? Why - I'm too old for the things I like. (I went and bought some nice, warm sweaters at the thrift store so I could stop wearing the same five outfits Monday through Friday. Sweatshirts with t-shirts underneath, jeans and sneakers. That's it. How sexy is THAT.)

I haven't gotten my hair done in at least six months. Probably longer. Clean and out of my eyes, that's it.

I feel as sexy as a stick of unchewed Wrigley's - and as motivated. Nothing feels good, and thinking about it only frustrates me because when I try it? Nothing. No, wait. Worse than that. Other people get to have fun - when I try it? Nothing.

Yeah, I want to be reminded that I had hopes once. Let's go open that box and find all the decorations when I was getting ready to start a family, was working in the industry and thought I'd actually write something with an intention to get it published. Silly me!

I'm spending my days working where I am constantly reminded I did not get an education in the field I'm working in, and it shows. I have a title that implies a high school education and two years experience, and when I've mentioned it, I've been told to shut up and be proud of it.

Younger brother has decided that my niece (who has worked the last three Thanksgivings) is going to throw Thanksgiving out at my mother's house next year. He's told this to both my niece and Sis - knowing I'd eviscerate him for being a total TWAT. That's my thanks for this year's Thanksgiving. *rolls eyes* Not happening, BTW. That would land it squarely on my mother and that isn't going to happen, either. SHOVE.

I have a very good memory. It's not my friend in cases like this.

I work full time, I go home and go back to work full time. I'm waking up wondering what I forgot to do.

I don't have the energy to be angry. If something bad was actually going on, I'd have at least an excuse.

I'd claim duck nibbling, except they're ignoring me too.

Mopey Dopey Friday

There truly are things about this holiday I am not liking much.

For one, I am actively dreading taking out the decorations. Why? Because everything this year has been a total SHOVE unless I want to tackle the task alone. And I am shoving on a lot of fronts right now, because I'm certain doing everything myself is a Bad Plan.

And I don't want to open the time capsule that is my Christmas decorations. I really don't need to be reminded that I've been collecting them over twenty years now...and a lot of the people and places I've been that they came from? Are gone. Like they never were - until I open that box at Christmas.

And I get hit with it all over again. The losses are one thing...the lack of any real sense of getting anywhere since then? Crippling.

We are at the same place we were in 2003, essentially. Going backwards, if you really look at it because the house we moved into is now showing the signs of time passing...and we're going to have to do Something about it. Soon.

Welcome to the realization that this has been another wasted year, with little to show for it. Writing the Christmas letter was an exercise in 'try to make this sound interesting, because clearly it's NOT.'

Whole lotta nothing going on.

I'm not going to anymore adoption classes. I've done them three times over already. I don't want to keep visiting websites that never change - or just keep changing as they should, daily updates for other people who get to see things change and grow and mature. Things...develop. Things...change. Up, down or sideways.

Me, I'm pretty certain I'm getting screwed.

Take for instance, losing that 35/40 pounds. I lost a lot of it in my face - which makes me look gaunt...and ancient. I have creases in places there were none this time last year. Yay! (What, plastic surgery? With WHAT.) There's my reward for doing the Right Thing.

The pictures taken at Thanksgiving and so on? I might as well be 65. I'd ignore it except people get kind of pissy when you don't act your age. Go buy clothes? Why - I'm too old for the things I like. (I went and bought some nice, warm sweaters at the thrift store so I could stop wearing the same five outfits Monday through Friday. Sweatshirts with t-shirts underneath, jeans and sneakers. That's it. How sexy is THAT.)

I haven't gotten my hair done in at least six months. Probably longer. Clean and out of my eyes, that's it.

I feel as sexy as a stick of unchewed Wrigley's - and as motivated. Nothing feels good, and thinking about it only frustrates me because when I try it? Nothing. No, wait. Worse than that. Other people get to have fun - when I try it? Nothing.

Yeah, I want to be reminded that I had hopes once. Let's go open that box and find all the decorations when I was getting ready to start a family, was working in the industry and thought I'd actually write something with an intention to get it published. Silly me!

I'm spending my days working where I am constantly reminded I did not get an education in the field I'm working in, and it shows. I have a title that implies a high school education and two years experience, and when I've mentioned it, I've been told to shut up and be proud of it.

Younger brother has decided that my niece (who has worked the last three Thanksgivings) is going to throw Thanksgiving out at my mother's house next year. He's told this to both my niece and Sis - knowing I'd eviscerate him for being a total TWAT. That's my thanks for this year's Thanksgiving. *rolls eyes* Not happening, BTW. That would land it squarely on my mother and that isn't going to happen, either. SHOVE.

I have a very good memory. It's not my friend in cases like this.

I work full time, I go home and go back to work full time. I'm waking up wondering what I forgot to do.

I don't have the energy to be angry. If something bad was actually going on, I'd have at least an excuse.

I'd claim duck nibbling, except they're ignoring me too.