Could Be Worse

My coffee maker broke this morning. Nice eh? Why didn't it break on Sunday when I had plenty of time to go get a new one? I ended up dragging myself out of the house early so I could stop at Starbucks on my way in, which added to my grinchiness. Oh yeah and Starbucks was magically out of peppermint stuff, so no peppermint latte for me. I tend to not really go to Starbucks anymore, so I figured while I was there and it was the season, but no, the peppermint gods deny me. Getting my caffeine fix later than usual kind of threw my day off and I really haven't felt really awake.

Then I got into work, and my stupid mouse stopped working. Well, it would move, but it wouldn't click on stuff. And since it's a fancy ergonomic mouse, well luckily my boss had gotten one for herself as well and had no problems handing it off to me. So yeah, could have been worse.

My ailing coworker is now back in the office and has not talked to me face to face all day. If you'll remember, I had to work until five the day before the holiday because his sick ass couldn't come into work all week. Honestly, I could think of a bunch of ways in which he could at the very least, be apologetic or even just neutrally ask about the day or my holiday, but he's done none of those. Fuck him. I hate having to deal with someone else's shit and such a large part of my work week is dealing with his shit.

Oh, go check out Kailyn's blog entry about our dinner on Saturday because it was awesome.

Thankful

I have been thinking a lot about Thanksgivings past this week. I think because I'm not going away (unless you call going down to see C today away, and it's really only 30 miles) and because I've had a lot to think about anyway, in regards to family. So much of my life in the last few years has been re-examination of my life, without looking through the lens of depression. Being depressed, off and on, for years, was this sort of blurry glass in which I didn't look at things as closely as I should have. Now, so many memories are under a microscope, so many assumptions are being discarded. I feel sometimes like I was in a chrysalis most of my life, waiting to be born and realize whom I am. And sometimes, I really feel like I'm still there, not sure what sort of butterfly I shall become.

Anyway, I was thinking about those Thanksgivings at home, back when I was a kid and a teenager, and how we'd always do a big shindig with my mom's mom, and there would be "the stuffing" that is the only stuffing that tastes "right" to me (and I know everyone has their favorite stuffing, but this was the right one to me), along with all kinds of food. It was interesting reading a lot of fat-acceptance blogs this year, about how people felt food issues as a kid. There was a "are you going to eat that?" and "you should eat this, that" going on, to be sure. But I did feel like at Thanksgiving, it was okay to try everything anyway despite these messages.

I remember one year, when I was in high school, I told my mom that I wanted to skip out on Thanksgiving, and she said that was okay, and dropped me off in Westwood Village. I went to see a movie, then walked home. I remember feeling very alone, and wishing I had stayed and done the Thanksgiving meal, as annoying as it was to sit there and listen to adults carp on about stupid crap. I missed the food, but also that feeling of having a tradition, of having this particular day. But it was only this week where I realized how awesome it was that my mom gave me a choice there, and that I was able to cut out from the festivities without having to pressured into doing something I just wasn't into.

This week, I was even sort of missing the Thanksgivings with my ex. We started dating around Labor Day 2002 and he was already inviting me to his family's Thanksgiving within the first few weeks we started dating. We spent five Thanksgivings together, one with his family in Tahoe, one with my mom back east, one with some friends of his in Arizona, one in Las Vegas, and then the last one at his sister's house (which was probably the worst, I was so annoyed with those people by then, particularly his sister-in-law that kept telling the same dumbass stupid story over and over). It wasn't like I missed him or his family, but I missed that sense of having a concrete thing to do that day.

And that all brings me to today, thinking about Thanksgiving. Later, I'm heading down to C's and we have a Thanksgiving event with his family tomorrow. Not really sure what we are doing tonight. I'm not really sure where things with C are going, but in a way, he feels like family to me. I was talking to Jen yesterday who was also talking to her friend about it, and I said, yes, things are going well and yes, it's nice to be dating someone who isn't emotionally abusive. I am most thankful now to realize that I deserve to be treated well by those I choose to surround myself with. I deserve to sit down at a table and not have every morsel of food judged, not be picked on for what I'm doing or not doing, or put down because I'm not measuring up to someone's idea of what I should be like. I really think we all do. If your Thanksgiving is the big family meal, the small family meal, or just hanging out on your own, I hope you are with those you love and who love you back.

The Grinch that Stole My Leaving Early Before the Holiday

I hate working until five the day before holidays. I absolutely hate it. Particularly when most of the people in the company will be leaving early. Most of the people? At least ninety-nine percent. A lot of departments close at noon. I'm pretty sure us at Information Technology are going to end up closing down at two pm. That is, other than a skeleton crew. So when my boss offered me and my coworker a bargain, that one of us could leave early last Friday, and the other this Wednesday, I was pleased when I got rolled to leave early on Wednesday. Which would be great and fantastic, leaving tomorrow at two.

Except, oh I can't. Because my coworker, the one who got to leave early last Friday, is conveniently out sick this week. He was out yesterday and today, and by all past accounts of him, he'll be out tomorrow. And I'll be stuck working until five on Wednesday and also resenting this asshat who seems to use up more than his share of taking time off on his supposed illness. Because when he is not here, I have to work at least twice as hard. And I would way prefer to be napping. In fact, some of my idea of leaving work early tomorrow was that I could go home and take a real nap, in my bed, with my cats.

I am really trying hard not to feel bitter. I have a job. A good paying job. With steady work. And I am getting holiday pay for Thursday and Friday. And I'm taking off two weeks at Christmas. And I can fiddle with Facebook while I'm at work. And it's not like someone is whipping me to work harder or something. But I still feel a bit bitter.

Brrrr

It's not really that cold. Okay, it is California cold. Up until a week or so ago, it was a high of seventy during the day. Just lately, it seems a little chilly. I tried to turn on my heat for the first time this weekend, and it won't turn on. The guy that my landlady used as a handyman for years and years just passed away, so she's kind of working to find someone new. Hopefully sooner rather than later because I'm cold.

Though it seems to not bother the cats very much. Right now Kiki is sitting on her tower, which is near my desk, but she's not hanging off randomly like in the photo. She's actually sitting in that curled up position trying to stay warm. This is making me wonder if my ancient space heater is in a closet somewhere. I've been really thinking of getting one for work, maybe I should just break down and get a space heater that I can use at work and at home too. Or maybe, my landlady will find someone to fix the heater.

I just feel kind of tired and cranky today. I am glad there are only two more work days left of this week.

The Funniest Part

The funniest part isn't that my maternal grandmother joined Facebook. The funniest part also isn't that she friend-requested my mom. The funniest part was that my mom forwarded me the friend-request with the message, "OMG." I haven't figured back if I should write back with LOL or what. I'm just relieved that my mean, judgmental, paternal grandmother is so afraid of technology and would never even look at a website, much less own a computer or join a social networking website. Because that would not be amusing. Though if she did join, for some reason, she'd start posting things like "wow you look fat" in comments of my photos, and also say something mean about my cats (her great-grandkittens!) and possibly realize that my boyfriend isn't Jewish and I am not married and don't have any children and any millions of other negative things. Then she'd have problems with the site, and call my dad to ask for help, and he'd complain to me about it.

Sometimes, the fear of technology is a good thing.

Proceed With Caution

I was contemplating of writing a post about my overly emotional weekend, but I don't know if I need to repeat that. Suffice to say, everything is fine. And hormones suck. I really do think that I should be able to wear a hat that says "proceed with caution" and then people could be nicer to me. Though I know from years of therapy that it's not that people are just doing what they are going to do, and it's really all about my reaction to them. But seriously, would it kill some of the mean people to take a day or two off?

One week until Thanksgiving. And I finally convinced C that I'm spending it with him. Not sure what is going to happen, possibly hanging out with his "family" which is really friends of his family, and that is fine with me. They like me. Middle-aged people love me. Families love me. It's one of those things, I cut back on the swearing and tell enough jokes, and there you go.

Falling Down

It amuses me to title this after the Michael Douglas movie in the early 90s, you know the one where he somehow makes it from what looks like east LA but seems more like the south areas by the airport to Venice in one day. Um yeah. I'm sure if you've never been in LA, that all seems perfectly logical.

I've been feeling kind of blah and blue lately. And I am pretty sure that it's just a seasonal issue, mostly with daylight savings time and how it is dark when I leave work. I freaking hate that. It's probably coupled with the fact that my neighbors keep parking their trucks too close to my spot and I feel once I get home, I just don't want to leave. Ever. I remember feeling like this last year, and we still have a month to go until the days keep getting longer again. I was meant to live closer to the equator, I think.

The tights that I was wearing today were falling down. I'm not really sure what the problem was, perhaps the elastic at the top, because they went from staying on my hips to somehow having the crotch around my knees. I tend to have a problem with pantyhose type things fitting me because my legs are disproportionately short compared to the rest of my torso, and maybe if I were a size 2 that wouldn't matter, but since I'm not I either have pantyhose that are too tight or too long in the crotch or I need to pull them right up under my bra strap like old man pants. I don't know what I expect from tights that were only four dollars at Target, maybe a little more use before they started falling down.

Just Another Tuesday

I was just thinking about how it's been two months since I've had group therapy. I would find myself on Tuesday afternoons trying to think of a good story for therapy, generally something related to my therapeutic process or my life. But not having thought that way for a few months, instead I was thinking of something random my walking partner said about her son looking kind of like that guy from Twilight and all these girls in his school having a crush on him. Which is no way related to anything I'd do in therapy. But it's funny.

Had an unpleasant blast from the past yesterday. Back when I was doing a massive dating thing, what, soon after I broke up with my ex, I ended up going on all kinds of dates and meeting all kinds of people for coffee. Most of them, I honestly barely remember. I am much better at remembering faces than names anyway, and I could probably break it down into "that weird looking guy with facial hair" and "the weird looking guy without facial hair." If that. I consider myself functional if I remember to wear undergarments on a daily basis, so remember stuff that happened a few years ago is just gravy.

So, when I got a random email from OKCupid supposedly from some guy I had gone out with for coffee, with no photo attached or no name, I was really perplexed. All that this guy included in the message was his phone number. Which I called from my desk at work, thinking that our PBX system blocked caller ID. I called, heard his voicemail with his name, remembered whom it was and that I wanted NOTHING to do with him, and proceeded to hang. Well, with the magic of caller ID he phoned me right back. So I picked up the phone and hung up. Then he called me again, and I let it go to my voicemail where he left a business-like sounding message, "I got a call from this number, call me back at my number." And then, when I didn't call him back, he tried me one more time and didn't leave a voicemail message.

I always wonder when someone falls out of the blue like that, what exactly is going on. I'm pretty sure it is just something to do with the person being horny. I could be flattered in the "oh he remembers me" but quite frankly I could care less. I barely remembered him, and what I did remember was somewhat creepy and inappropriate.

My Bike-Muscles Hurt

I'm currently exhausted. It was definitely one of those days where everything seems to take longer. I met a friend of mine from college for a bike riding lesson in Santa Cruz. I am sad to say that I never learned how to ride a bike. Well, I did some balancing and gliding and whatnot, and I feel like some of my fear of cracking my head open like a bunch of eggs is somewhat gone. It's definitely not one of those things that comes easy to me. It's funny, Heather said that if I should be able to do step aerobics, it can't be any harder than that. Well, hard in a different way. I think me feeling out of shape and lazy didn't help matters.

Then I came home, earlier than usual, from over the hill, and figured I'd stop and do some errands. And well, my ATM card wasn't working. Thanks Bank of America, for looking out for me, by randomly canceling my old card and sending me a new card in an unmarked envelope so I couldn't tell it was from you. And thanks for having me wait on hold for almost thirty minutes (well, to be fair, they did have to transfer me two times for some reason) to get what the answer was with that, and then find that random unmarked envelope and find my brand new card. Joy. I pretty much am sick of BofA's random "customer disservice" however, they seem to be one of the few stable banks left in this country, so we'll see.

I feel myself clinging to the last few hours of the weekend. The past few weeks at work have been far too long and few of the weekends have felt long enough. I have no concrete plans for Thanksgiving and some part of me just wants to vegetate for the four day weekend at home. I'm sure I'd get some feline assistance with day-long naps.

Breath of Fresh Air

I have been cold at work for a year and a half, since we moved into this building. I was cold in the other building, sure, but when we moved over here, we were told that we couldn't use space heaters anymore. And I had been running a space heater every day. Once we moved here, I couldn't turn mine on. And thanks to my boss, I couldn't even plug it in. The one or two times I tried to plug it in, she'd come into my cube and unplug it.

So I complained. I complained to my boss. I complained to our admins. I complained to Facilities. In this process, people would ask if other people in the area also felt cold. The answer was always no. What was the problem with me? I mean, it must be me, right? Though I noticed that the only time I was ever feeling cold was when I was at work, and at home, in the car, at other people's homes, at restaurants, I never felt that bone-chilling cold that I feel at work.

A few weeks ago, I finally ascertained where the cold was coming from. And was able to point directionally to the A/C guy who came out from Facilities. And he discovered there was a big hole in the floor. Yes, a hole, where the cords came up, and a spout of cold air was hitting me directly. Every day. For a year and a half. And then as soon as he found it, he went out and found something to plug up the hole.

I felt somewhat vindicated.