Firstly, Mr. Cranky the Canker Sore is mostly healed up. I can give head again (oh yeah, and eat and talk and some other junk)!

I haven't been feeling all that well this week. I'm thinking I'm just having a depressive cycle that won't go away quickly. If the option to avoid humanity for a little bit ever opens, I'd be all over it right now.

Tuesday I got into a verbal altercation with a smart assed co-worker. I had basically had enough of her crap. I got to tell my side of the story first yesterday to our supervisor, and after I was done giving her example after example of this woman's constant bullshit thrown at my direction, she wasn't pleased. The normally talkative woman was strangly subdued for the rest of the day, and actually gave me straight answers in the afternoon when I had to close her out.

Right as morning break began yesterday, we had a fire drill. I had volunteered months ago to be the point person for our section (hold a sign showing were we should commune, etc.) We couldn't find the sign...so I wrote "MOS" (for Mail Open Sort) on a sheet of paper and walked out with that. The sight of everyone else with their signs and me with this ghetto-ass piece of paper was too much, and we were all laughing. It perked me up for a bit.

We have black latex gloves at work now. Now, they are quite pratical for mail handling (you can see light colored powders much easier), but I couldn't help but feel a little....funny...walking by them. I mean, it's not every day that one of your fetishes (it's black and latex!) suddenly pops up at your place of employment...

Why yes, a pair did follow me home yesterday...

And Lastly, you know what would really make my week really super? If someone were to appear at my apartment door with a carton of Chinese take out rice, a backrub (particually the shoulders) and a trip to my bed for a nice long....cuddle. Yeah, this is how bad it is, I simply want to cuddle, maybe make out, but mostly just feel good in someone's arms.

Yeah, asking for too much doesn't help my current mood...

Why did you fuckers insist that things would work about again, and why in the fucking hell did I believe you?

"Sorry, budget cuts...won't be able to hire a full staff this week...maybe we'll call you next week...."

"Sorry, Ms. Massey, but we've already mailed out your unemployment check..."

"This job requires some physical labor, lifting things up to 90 pounds, blah, blah, other crap you're not physical capable of doing...can you do it?"

Part of me wants to go home and hide in the shower, part of me wants to run outside and see which bus hurts the worst, but I don't trust myself alone right now...time to slap on a happy grin and make nice with the rushees and newbies!

...so, i'm here at dt feeling rather...out of place. I could go back to Psi U, but thanks to a certain unnamed jackhole, I feel...useless and unwelcome..there. I don't know why. Haven't I helped out enough? Is there more I can do? I mean, I"m not doing any of this for thank yous or recognation or anything... I just care about a group of folk I consider my family, so duh, I"m gonna be there when I can, doing what I can. So yeah, it kinda hurts when I get the impression that what little I can do doesn't matter or that I"m not welcome...


So, what am I doing wrong?

So, I'm sitting here, late for improv as usual, comtemplating this stupid application for the new apartment i'm sharing. My hands are still shaking, and I've procrastinated up to this point. What if I'm rejected again? Where will I go then? What will I do then? Is there nowhere for me, just because I'm a horrible person of awful credit? I'm so fucking scared right now.

oh well, time to bite the bullet....

*starts writing*

So yeah...the coffee helped with the whole not sleeping thing...I'm thinking about heading back to Disco Diner for more later on tonight. Hey, I wasn't exactly planning on sleeping this weekend anyway...more thinking to be done...

apparently I got a babysitter sent here, lucky me. send some poor soul to talk down the crazy lady...again...that'll make me feel better..

luckily, I had coffee, and out lasted him....

now, maybe, MAYBE! I can get some fucking thinking done...getting some fucking peace finally takes planning, doncha know?

...I don't know why people consider suicide the coward's way out...it takes a lot of guts...heh, I should know...I haven't had the guts all those other times....some kind soul stops me..."It'll get better, Kiki. Don't worry, everything's going to be alright. Here's some pills, Ms. Massey, to make you feel better. Come on sit on my couch, and I'll listen to your problems for an amount you could never pay back, thus driving you further into debt and despair...all to make you feel better about life"

and they lie, every time...

how many chances do we get to fuck up our lives? To begin anew? I dunno. I don't really care anymore...and you know what? It's very calming to acknowledge that. To admit to the fact that you are a fuckup...and maybe you can do this one little thing in your life right...and then, everything will finally be better, it's very soothing.

I'll admit....i'm a little scared...but hey, this doesn't nearly scare me anymore than facing reality does...and reality bites.

but anyway..i have a couple of more days to think...

Note to God, or whatever the fuck the fucking higher power is naming itself these days:

Stop it. Stop kicking me around. I'm sick of it. I'm tired of it. I'm sick and tired of it. If my lot in life is supposed to be this shitty forever, then kill me now or at least give me the guts to do it myself. If my life is what I make of it, like everyone says it is, then cut it out with the rug-pulling shit once things get good. I'm discouraged...I'm very very tired. Getting up in the morning is starting to not be worth it anymore, because I don't know what shit will get dumped on me today. Are you happy now? Here's what's left of my broken spirit. You win.

I'm going out today, to try and make something out this fucked up hand I got dealt, but I'm sure that you have a few things up your sleeve to trip me up, don't you, you sick fucking bastard? Fuck you, fuck hope, fuck everything.

fuck you very much

me

so, things have turned from sugar to shit real quick. I feel so trapped right now...like there's no way out for me....like I can't catch a break with a break-catching glove....whine, whine, moan, moan...wail and bitch some more.


pity I found the wrong scissors...

....i want to scream....

Note: I'm not criticizing anyone. If it looks like I'm speaking of you, rest assured that I'm not.

I've been working on my social skills a bit since I've moved back into La Casa de Psi U. Trying to relearn the basics of going out and talking to people, to remember to ask around before just walking out the door to eat or run errands, prying myself from the computer and wandering downstairs or to another's room every so often. My usual attitude plus my depression makes isolating myself instinctive, and I don't think that will help at all.

But a few instances that I've noticed now that I'm around people have made me rethink my change in attitude a bit. Sometimes, it is good to do shit on your own. I like the fact that I can entertain myself, even if it just surfing the web or playing a video game our of sheer boredom. And if I want to go somewhere cool, like the movies or what have you, I can go alone. I only say this because I know of people who won't go to a flick they want to see without a group and it makes my scratch my head in confusion. Or people who look so lost without their core friend group or their honey or their laptop or whatever. It's so weird.

In conclusion, I think I'm going to have to work on a good sense of balance here.

well, I had this one sitting on my head for a couple of days now, but too much funny shit happened that kept interupting. Which is a good thing, i guess.

( feel free to skip )

So, last night I cried myself to sleep...it wasn't one of those loud bawly type things, just a quiet little sniffle and snot so that a) I didn't disturb anyone and b) no one would ask questions. There wasn't any other place to do something like this...without arousing suspscion or getting caught, and then I would have had to deal with someone finding me and asking what was wrong and then I would just cry harder and blab out every rotten feeling I've been having for the last couple of weeks and they would have to feel just awful and sorry for me and the next day I wouldn't be able to look them in the face because they've seen me at my weakest point and I'm sure they'll never look at me in the same way again and I just couldn't deal with that. Not to mention that I look fucking hideous when I cry.

(yes, grammar nazi...that was quite a run-on sentance. Bite me)

and now my eyes feel crusty and I feel dumb. and weak. oh well, time for breakfast.

( I knew that shit was too good )

Time to shower the glitter off. I've got a date with Dekalb Farmer's Market.

sometimes, I hate being bipolar...

last week was the first downward episode I've had in months. And, of course, to combat the down, my body decides to take itself full swing for this week, so i'm manic to the manic power, which is good. I like being manic, it's tiring at times but better than the alternative.

The downside, the manic has manifested itself into insatiable lust...big time. So, until the manic fades away, sex is on my mind and on my lj more than usual.

My apologies.