Realizations

 Today I am thankful for those rare moments when I actually think....

 especially when the thoughts lead to decisions. 

I'm about to enroll in school. 

School was the only thing that kept me from having nightmares about people I really shouldn't worry about. 

I'm thinking that the dreams are the Divine's way of pushing me to get that doctorate I promised my mom I'd get when I was fourteen. 

So....

I'd better brush up on my CPR.....

because it'll be embarrassing in just a few years when someone screams out 

"is there a doctor in the house?" 

and all eyes move to me and I'll have to say 

"I'm not that kind of doctor." 

CPR....that was the only thing I ever did in which I was thankful for all those hours I spent playing bass. 

Seriously....the only help I can be in a medical emergency right now is to dial 911 and say something stupid like "Tell me what this is like for you?" 

Yeah.....I just want the psych doctorate because I want one of those octagon shaped hats. 

Wish I were joking.  That's probably the most honest thing I've ever written in this thing. 

Some of us do crazy stuff for fashion. 

So - well, see what happens. 

*****

The dreams are driving me insane. 

I'm not sleeping. 

The lack of sleep is making me cranky and clumsy. 

Yep, I'm still in pain -but- the dresses are helping. 

******
I'm not sure if I should continue writing this chapter of the blog.  This is the one in which I write the gossip as though it is true. 

It's kinda hard to stay in character. 

Weirdly, though, when one writes about bullshit in the first person....it's bizarre how some of those traits can come through in real life.  The shadow crap somehow, on a very small level, can become a part of you. 

Maybe I shouldn't give life to it any more. 

I'll think about it. 

I only wish the chemical burn was fictional. 

Thankfully, no one will ever have to see it. 

*****

Now that the gossip is drying up and people realize I'm crazier than any crap they could make up about me, it's pretty hard to get material to write about. 

It's probably a good thing. 

I'm at the point in my life where all my hard work is finally starting to bear fruit. I am getting so busy that I'll think up funny one liners and then log in to write about them

only to find that they escape me when I log in. 

So - 

Don't know when I'll write again. 

The lesson I'm trying to impart today is that the Creator, Great Spirit, Divine, Giant Spaghetti Monster, or Great Void of Nothingness will do nutty things to get your attention if you ignore it. 

Please trust your inner self and find your path so you don't live your life avoiding sleep (or even life itself). 

I'm thinking that's what those dreams are about.  They are a way to get me off of my lazy ass and keep my promise to my mother (albeit thirty five years too late).  

If the only way to keep the dreams at bay is to go back to school, 

I'm in. 

If my ex-husband was messing around with my education and career prospects, I can see why the Divine would give me nightmares about the one person my ex-husband was afraid I still cared about. 

Of course, I care.  I'm not a monster.  

Might look like one....but I don't want to see people in pain. 

My ex-husband just didn't expect to hear me blurt out that name in holy terror at 3:33 a.m.  It freaked him out to the point he started stalking me to the extent it messed with his career. 

The dreams were one way to end a horrible marriage to a controlling man. 

Score one for the Omnipotent Presence! 

*****

Right now, I'm trying to figure how to juggle all the things in my life.

Please don't take on sooo much that you forget to live your life.  If I had to do it all over again, I'd making having pleasant experiences with people I care about more of a priority. 

People don't keep.  We are not immortal. 

Now, I spend more time visiting my loved ones at the cemetery than I ever did at my home. 

Don't make that mistake. 

Love ya lots, 

S. 

There is a 98% Chance I'll Meet the Love of My Life Today!

 Today I am thankful that 97.98% of statistics are made up on the spot. 

I'm a mess. 

I have no skin on a very private part of my body.  Thankfully, I can barely see it.  The part I see gives me panic attacks. 

With the panic attacks, I am also thankful for a new Buspirone prescription.  Apparently, it is not uncommon for people with significant burns to have panic attacks. 

I have long, red marks running down my behind and thighs.  I am missing skin on my thumb and parts of the muscle are still open.  I have to decide if I want to wear silicone to keep me from scaring or ignore it and be an ugly woman of character. 

It's disgusting to look at.  It's painful to think about. 

There was a thought - this would be the day someone would proposition me for the horizontal polka. 

Here is the checklist of stuff that tends to occur when I meet guys interested in me. 

I'm bloated  - check 

I've got a zit on my nose - check 

When naked I look like a sat on a bunch of sharp shards of glass (because of the burns) - check 

It's a bad hair day - check 

My allergies are acting up so my eyes are red - check 

My waterproof mascara has dyed my face because it won't wash off so now I look like a racoon - check

I'm sad and want to be alone (got some bad news about a dear friend....praying he'll pull through) - check

Yep, this is gonna be the day someone is gonna be interested. 

Sigh - 

Lets see if I can survive the next 24 without running into a guy. 

Yep.  I am actually at my least attractive.  

It's actually painful to walk or sit down so this would probably be the day someone asks me out. 

Hmmmm. 

The only time that typically happens is when my three decade old car breaks down.  I'd better make sure she's okay on oil, coolant, tranny fluid, brake fluid and blinker fluid. 

Just kidding about the last one. 

****
I broke down and bought a new computer because my computer keeps freezing on Zoom.  My new laptop has 12GB of RAM.  That sucker is fast!! 

I should have bought two - it'll be great for recording stuff. 

Maybe soon I can back to doing the work I actually love! 

Life is good. 

Especially now. 

I am not dreaming of old flames anymore. 

I'm not sleeping much due to the pain of the burns -  

with less than four hours of sleep a night, it minimizes the odds of having creepy dreams. 

Maybe the dreams are the Universe's way of getting me off my lazy ass! 

May all your good dreams come true and the bad dreams never return. 

Love ya lots, 

S. 

Next Day Edit: 

Whew!  No one asked me out.  

I did, however, manage to fall in love. 

I almost brought another male puppy home, though. 

Just didn't want to cheat on Houston. 

Hugs, 

S.m 

-

Forced To Get Over My Anxiety About Wearing Dresses

This song was inspired by a severe water burn.  I feel lucky, at least I didn't burn my nasal passages.  

Today I am thankful for the lesson to stop making wishes in my house. 

 So - 

the burns in a certain area of my body got worse over the past three days. 

I wanted to resume cleaning out my closet so I could donate the nice clothes to the center where I work. 

I sat on the floor of the closet, tears falling down my face and consumed by the pain. 

I feel like I've had a running anxiety attack since I received the burns.  My face and extremities will go numb.  I can't hear anything.  My heart races. 

The only thing that helps is sleep. 

At this point, I decided to ask my boss for another day off and schedule an appointment with my doctor. 

My doctor is Nigerian.  He has one of those beautiful, hearty laughs and soothing voices. 

The hardest part about visiting his office is hearing other patients yell at him because he won't participate in doctor shopping and refill prescriptions for opiods. 

I heard that again today. 

The voice on the other side of the wall screamed "I've taken 108 Ibuprofen today!! All those drugs will kill my liver!!!" 

"Kidneys" I say under my breath.  The CNA looked at me in shock.  Ibuprofen harms the kidneys. 

My doctor's voice never raised.  He gave the man some time before he tried to reason with him again. 

This is why I want my addiction counseling license. 

Too many people are taking too many drugs and not understanding the risks involved. 

It's even happened to me (not with anything addictive, though).  Thankfully, I'm allergic to most opioids.  That allergy was a gift from the creator. 

I think he's giving me another gift. 

*****

Embarrassed....

I explain my nail glue accident.  I bought the glue off of Amazon.  Although it was marketed as nail glue, that is not what it is.  It's a watery epoxy resin known for causing severe chemical burns. 

I show him my hand.  I jerry-rigged a bunion guard to guard my thumb so that air hits it and the antibacterial ointment doesn't rub off.   I've lost a few layers of skin but it is looking a lot better.  The palm of my hand is almost healed. 

He wants to see the other burns. 

I decline because of the location.  I ask him what is the worse that can happen. 

Infection.....

pain.....

his nurse goads me into undressing. 

So I find myself suffering through the world's most embarrassing doctor's visit. 

Seriously - 

After nearly a decade, I have never seen this doctor cringe.  

He cringed. 

Apparently, my pants have scraped most of the skin off of my private parts and a big chunk of skin near my thigh and behind. 

He wants me to start wearing dresses and thigh high stockings to work because there is really nothing they can do for the place I burned. 

Thank goodness those bottles of supposed nail glue are small!!! 

So - 

now I have to face my fear of wearing dresses. 

It's a darn good thing I ordered several of them a few weeks back from designers overseas!! 

I also got a new prescription for an anxiety medication to quell the panic attacks. 

*****

Back in 2012 or 2013, 

a man who shall go unnamed 

pleasured himself and some of his ejaculate got on my leg. 

I was in my favorite dress from Hawaii. 

It felt disgusting. 

I felt traumatized. 

Believe it or not, I had a welt grow in that exact spot. 

I've rarely worn dresses since that day. 

I love, love, love dresses.....

I  love, love, love thigh high boots and tights. 

There are so many dresses my closet that I could wear one per day and not have to do laundry for six months. 

This was why I was trying to clean out my closet.  Someone else would get clothes I was too afraid to wear. 

Before that - 

in the spring of 1987, 

my sister engaged in a game of strip poker with a bunch of guys from high school in my apartment. 

My landlord had let them in my apartment without my consent. 

I walked in. 

She was fourteen.  

I took her spot. 

It led to a sexual assault. 

The rapist went to high school with me.  

He got the worst of it. 

I told his wife! 

It ruined his life. 

After that day, I rarely wore dresses until I found myself in the public eye.  I wore them a lot in 2011 but stopped when the gross dude thought his behavior was cute. 

It's sad to note that both assaults happened in my home.  This is probably why I don't have company over too much any more. 

Back then, I closed my closet and never looked at the clothes.  Most of them are designer clothes that don't go out of style. 

So - 

I have to wonder if this is how the universe has decided to get me over my fear of wearing dresses? 

There has to be a less painful way!!! 

Oh, there is a lesson from all this crap - don't buy nail glue from AliExpress (or even Amazon) unless you are familiar with the brand. 

I shouldn't have wished to overcome my fear of dresses - maybe some of those creepy artifacts I own with alleged djinn on them are real....

maybe??? 

Djinn twist wishes.  I mean this seems like the absolute worst way to force myself to wear skirts. 

It can't be. 

No....truth be told, 

I'm just a klutz. 

Love ya, 

S. 

INXX?

 

Today I'm thankful I made it home before the blizzard struck. 

Yes, every single time I have a dream about a person from my past. I pray for him. 

My thought process is that I'll give the worry up to my higher power and divinity can do whatever needs to be done. 

He's lucky the gossips are wrong about my religion. I don't worship Satan. 

Satin?  Maybe.....

Not Satan. 

(Just teasing....

about the satin thingy.....)

Every time I pray for him.  

It snows. 

Last time we got 15" of snow and I nearly met the reaper getting on to the highway.  I still have to get the car fixed from that.  I must've scraped the radiator on some ice because my car is leaking orange fluid. 

Sigh....

This is probably what happened during that freak snowstorm in May of 2014. 

This time, all I know is that the windows in the basement are blacked out.  Snow is covering the windows of the main floor and the windows from the second floor look like our six foot fences are half covered with snow.  I'd estimate we've received between 2 - 3 feet of snow.  

I could be wrong.  It's still snowing.  It's a bit windy so those could be snow drifts. 

My boss wanted me to prepare to spend the night at work.  I packed my car full of clothes, art projects to do with the patients (which my boss hates because she doesn't want them to expect us to entertain them but the patients love making gratitude jars and shrines to their higher powers so....), battery operated candles,  boots I've never worn for the patient donation room, books, Siegfred food (rice milk, rice cakes, cottage cheese, kale, low sodium V8, kombucha, sparking tea and baked pretzels for when I'm naughty) and all sorts of medical supplies for my wounds. 

People must have thought I lived in my car.  That sucker was packed up! 

Thankfully it didn't start snowing too hard until after I left. 

Whew! 

*****

That morning, I had forgotten to take the elevator key out of my pocket.  When I work, I work.  It doesn't matter if I'm in pain.  I'll work through it.  My colleague is studying for a test and likes to keep the amount of work done to a minimum.  I run around alot. 

When I'm in pain, I'm forgetful.  I found the key around 3:12 in the morning.  I called asking if I could come drop it off.  I was told no. So I cleaned my wounds and tried to fall a sleep despite the pain. 

I was awoken by frantic phone calls and texts starting at 8:45 or so demanding that I make it to the office with the key in 30 minutes.  I left without dressing my wounds and sped to to the office.  I was only 2 minutes late. 

There is another key.  

I honestly think the old Arapahoe House crew is trying to get rid of me to get the former employees back (at least that's what I hear).  I shouldn't have left without dressing my wounds. 

I came back home and tried to get some rest before returning to work the evening/night shift. 

I couldn't sleep.  

I am still finding blood on my clothes from the friction against my wounds. 

*****

It's exhausting having wounds.  

All I want to do is sleep.  

I slept twelve hours.  I had a few dreams of the blast from the past. 

In the dreams, we are in the high school cafeteria (toured it last year) and he's trying to tell me about some gossip he heard from a relative of mine and I can't hear him. 

All I want to do is eat.  I have an eating disorder so dreaming of that in and of itself is weird. 

Must've been hungry. 

Still, I woke up.....prayed that he'd get whatever makes him happy....and fell asleep again.  

I woke up to the blizzard!!! 

*****

The adult kiddos shoveled a path for my white toy poodle besingi mix. It's funny watching him go outside and skip around in the snow.  

He loves the snow.  

It takes forever to find him outside to get him come in.  Once he's in, he'll warm up for awhile and then yodel until I let him go back outside. 

Yeah, the doggo who loves Reggae yodels.  He's just recently learned to bark. 

Can't get him to howl, though.....

*****. 

As I type this with my heavily bandaged hand, the lights are blinking on and off. 

I may have to go light some candles. 

Good thing I am an INXJ.....and do a lot of planning.  I'm stocked up on everything. 

Heck, I could possibly live like this for a couple of months if I set up the grow light and plant my veggie and sprouting seeds. 

I probably should get back to sprouting.  Good stuff. 

I had this bizarre thought today. 

I'm acting like an INFP.  

I'm a forgetful klutz who appears to get the feels out of nowhere....seriously. 

Since November I've actually talked to men and had to get myself out of a few bizarre interactions. 

Typically, I never notice those kind of things. 

Yep, this has been going on for the past four months or so. 

On Tuesday, I spilled a resin on my mid section and grabbed the bottle with my right hand resulting in 2nd and 3rd degree chemical burns in lots of horrible places.   I'm getting some feeling back in my right thumb...it's pain...but that's a good sign, right? 

Um.....

Two weeks ago, I bought something that looked like tuna but turned out to be soy (to which I'm highly allergic).  I didn't realize it until I fell asleep and woke up with swollen legs and hives.  Yeah, I was talking to a beautiful black guy about hair products while I grabbed the tuna off of the shelf.  

Three weeks ago, the janitor forgot to squeeze the water from her mop and I slipped and fell on my backside and smacking my only good knee into a wall.  Still hurting from that. 

I've had at least two car issues resulting from nearly avoiding a few accidents. 

Yeah, hate to admit it....I even gave one speech in which I brought the wrong set of notes and had to wing it. 

In the past, if any boss would so much as insinuate that I needed to find someone to cover my shift before going to the ER because my private parts and writing hand had bad burns, I would have quit and called an employment lawyer.  This time I sucked it up only to be reprimanded by an ER doctor later. 

I think I'll survive.  I'm sure I'll scar but I don't think I'll die from it (although walking is still horribly painful). 

Thank goodness for the blizzard, I'll have a couple of days to rest and try to heal. 

I haven't even begun to look for a new job.  Typically an emotionally abusive interaction with a boss would either have me saying something that will hurt his or her feelings when they figure out what I meant -or- I'd be papering the town with my resume. 

The last time a bully boss happened to me was in 1992.  That boss gave me an ambush meeting in which he questioned my sexuality and faith.  Afterwards, he quit his managerial job and took a job on a boat.  He was never seen or heard from again.  That guy got his jollies harassing women.  How do I know?  Well, I got to talk to my predecessors and the woman who took my place. 

My current boss just seems to be stressed out and overworked. 

That said, INFJs can be evil. I've learned to tame my nastiness because not everyone deserves it. 

Me? Don't know if I care enough to engage in poetic justice right now. 

See? 

I have no clue who I am any more. 

Maybe my personality is changing. 

Maybe I'm less of an asshole and more of a stupid romantic. 

*****

When I was in college, I tested as an INTJ.  When I left and started counseling other people, I got my INFJ mojo back.  I still test as 51% F and 49% T. 

According to Jung, the goal of personal growth is to integrate the conflicting parts of our personalities.  So, perhaps, I'm now growing more judgmental and hiding it better. 

Could be..... 

Or maybe....just maybe....the klutziness is due to a lack of sleep. 

Dreams of an ex I shouldn't think about leads to the loss of sleep.  

I don't know. 

If I were a betting woman, I'd bet that I'm probably going to die in a freak accident of my own making due to a lack of paying attention. 

At least I won't live long enough to endure the shame of being laughed at. 

Wherever you are, stay safe. 

Love ya, 

S. 

P.S.  If you want to read more about the Myers Briggs personality types, here's a short synopsis. 

Personality Types | 16Personalities

If Idiocy Were An Olympic Sport, I'd Have A Go At The Gold (with edit and more stupidity)

 

Actually, don't.  Stupidity isn't worth it.  Wait....wait.....is that a toaster bass?  Maybe a single mom needs one of those.  I can make breakfast and practice....at the same time....until I stick my hand inside and fry myself.....sigh....at least my hair will stay curly..... Nevermind....watched the video again, it's just a guitar....sigh...

Today I am thankful for the possibility of never having to wax again. 

So - 

I did a stupid thing this afternoon. 

Yeah - 

I sat on my mattress with my legs extended outward. 

I had heavy duty nail glue in my lap as my boss likes us to look polished.  I hate nail polish (takes too long to dry and chips too much).  Little plastic nail shields only take a few minutes to glue on and take off. 

So, I found these boring, short, nude fake plastic nails and industrial strength nail glue that I bought from AlliExpress. 

As I'm sitting my bed, the 1 ounce bottle tips towards my belly spilling out most of the contents of the bottle on my pants.  Like a dummy, I try to grab the bottle with my right hand. At this point, my right hand is stuck to my pants which is stuck to my underwear which is stuck to my body. 

My pants literally smoked!! 

Seriously - that's the most heat that part of me has experienced in a long, long time. 

Nail glue is supposedly water soluble, so I wound up hopping in the tub fully clothed trying not to cry due to the pain. 

It took about an hour to get my clothes cut off of me. 

I'm thankful that I don't have a boyfriend.  If I did, well - there wouldn't have been anything to protect my skin from the chemical burn. 

The damage? 

Well.....

I have a third degree burn on the palm and thumb of my bass slapping hand. 

I have another in a very delicate place.  There is also a second degree burn there, too. 

I also have two second degree burns; one on each of my inner thighs. 

My new mattress is probably ruined, too.  Only on one side.  I could probably flip it when my hand heals. 

At least my nails look perfectly fake. 

***** 

It helps to think of the positives. 

I didn't lose the hair on my head. 

No one will probably ever see the scars.  There is a chance that the damage to my skin is so severe that hair may never grow there again. 

Perhaps I can find a funny retort for that annoying question about the carpet matching the drapes.  Maybe something like - "well, not after the chemical burn incident of 2021."

If it scars, I wonder what people are going to think I'm into. 

It's bad enough with the acoustic foam glued to my bedroom walls and my leather dominatrix coat. That's not to mention the bruises I get when I fall asleep on hard cover textbooks. 

This is just going to cause more guys to slink away from me. 

Don't laugh.  I've literally had guys see bruises and say they're not into rough stuff before running off. 

Being clumsy is bad for the ol' love life. 

***** 

So - there is a lesson here - 

don't buy industrial strength glue from China to put on plastic fingernails. 

If people don't like my ultra-short bass playing natural nails, they can kiss my chemically burned arse. 

Some people are dumb enough to put their extremities into fast drying glue - can't believe I did that. 

If using this type of super glue, use a table - not a bed where a dog can jump on it and cause caustic chemicals to spill. 

This whole debacle made me ten minutes late to work.  Thankfully my boss didn't understand what I meant by, spilled super glue on my legs and will be in once I dress the wound. 

A colleague saw my hand.  She thinks I should get myself medically treated. 

The burns downtown are far worse, there is no way in hell a doctor or nurse is going to see those. 

Sigh, 

If you read this dumb thing, don't do the dumb shit I do. 

Learn from my mistakes, don't live them.  

Thank goodness I've got numbing aloe vera gel.  I'm gonna need that. 

Love ya lots, 

S.  

I'm bandaged up and mummified. 

Next Day Edit: 

My boss has a rule that I cannot miss work unless I can find someone to cover for me.  I couldn't find anyone.  We're short staffed.  People are exhausted. 

Well, long story short - 

I had to go to the Emergency Room.  My doctor told me so.  The nurse at work told me so.  The nurse at the urgent care told me to get to a hospital. 

I waited 36 hours so I could go after my shift.  I just got home from the hospital. 

They called me by a name I hadn't heard in 32 years.  Apparently, I was there when I was attacked with a hammer and sustained a subdural hematoma.  Luckily, all my information was on file. They even reminded me that I was allergic to hydrocodone.  Lucky me! 

My right hand is infected and there is a possibility of nerve damage.  I didn't get medical care in time. 

So, if you are chemically burned 

MAKE SURE TO GET MEDICAL ATTENTION WITHIN 24 HOURS! 

The all caps is for your benefit. 

Maybe that urge to buy a left handed bass was a good one.  I'll probably have to relearn to play.  I can't feel the wound on my right palm and thumb, that is what scared the nurse I work with. 

The other wounds hurt pretty badly.  They are much worse than I thought.  I won't be bike riding anytime soon. 

Sniff - 

No, I didn't let the adorable young EMT who looked like my nephew clean those wounds.  I told him I'm Red Cross certified, so I can fix those wounds myself. 

It can fall off for all I care.  

Still, I'm in pain.  I probably won't sleep very much tonight. 

It's kinda funny.  I'm wrapped up like a mummy. 

I fell asleep around 10:00 this morning because of the pain.  I woke up at 1:00 p.m. 

Wouldn't you know it? 

I had one of those dreams that keep me from sleeping. 

Sigh - 

An old friend was hugging me and apologizing for hurting me. 

Thankfully, the dream was so shocking, I woke up numb (at least for a bit). 

Well, I'm going to try to sleep so I can wake up early to get some antibiotics for my infected right hand. 

It would have to be my drawing, bass slapping hand, wouldn't it? 

Sometimes I have really amazing good luck 

or really amazing sour luck. 

Originally, I was left handed until my religious grandma got to me.  Maybe learning to play bass with my left hand will be easier than I think. 

I mean, I shoot with my left hand....

My dad always made me write with my left hand....

Maybe it's all good. 

Take care of you - 

if you don't take care of your body, where are you gonna live? 

Am I right? 

Hugs, 

S. 

Overwhelm (with edit)

Today I am thankful I'm breathing....

at least barely. 

It has been a crazy 36 hours....

Yesterday afternoon, I received a letter that may or may not mess up my career.  In order to get my counseling license, I have to get a letter stating what I need to do to have the same education as someone who recently graduated from a CACREP accredited school. 

My degree is soooo old, I earned it before the university was CACREP approved. 

All I should need is a practicum. 

The person at the credentialing organization did not review my level of education for licensure (even thought that's what I asked in the letter).  They reviewed it for a minor certificate. 

Right now, I don't know if I need more than a practicum to get licensed....

maybe I'll need a doctorate? 

Or if I should take an expensive test to get the certificate? 

That's a little stressful.  I'll be a little peeved if I spent the last two years in a low-paying job being abused for no reason.  

It's weird working where I work.  The patients are cool but I've dealt with insane stuff by some of the staff. I've had people throw papers at me, scream at me, break down in tears due to something the boss said, mock my hair and ridicule me in staff meetings*.  

I still can't figure out what my boss means by "energy." I think she's trying to diagnose me with some type of disorder.  She's not qualified to do that, by the way.  I'm wondering if she thinks I'm bipolar or something.  I only say that because one day she insinuated that I was depressed, the next day while in a staff meeting, it was insinuated that I was anxious and overly energetic.  

I'm not bipolar.  To be fair to my boss, I was sucking down several energy drinks per day because I thought I was acting like Eeyore! 

If we can't laugh at life then it is no fun.  

Truth be told, overwork can cause anxiety.  This organization has been understaffed since Covid hit.  Given the stuff I've endured from members of the staff, it's a safe bet that other people are feeling anxiety, too. 

As individuals, these people are stellar, amazing and caring souls.  I could see overwhelm, overwork and too little funds causing anxiety and the other stuff. 

I've realized I need out of that job.  When I did some reality checking with other people in the field, I found myself with two job offers pending my license. 

Maybe I should tell the employers to start looking for someone else. 

If I take that test  for the certificate, I have to do it in the next two weeks due to recent changes in the law. 

*Next day edit:  It was a typo, thank goodness.  The license issue is corrected now.  

I'm pretty sure that the whole craziness at work is anxiety over funding and being overworked.  I think I'll start donating more money to the facility.  Maybe it'll help?  We'll find out. 

****.  

My goal for today was to clean out the mess that is my walk-in closet, donate 50% of the clothes and shoes, while listening to psych recordings so I could study for that test.

I didn't get very far. 

Sigh - 

I built a shelf and cleaned about five feet into the closet when I found a drawer on the floor. 

In this drawer was a brown envelope. 

In this envelope was a letter that I thought I had burned years ago. 

It made me cry. 

Damn it - 

It was written by a guy I used to know very well,

who I have nightmares about, 

who was possibly in a drug induced psychosis when he wrote 

a note about me aborting, miscarrying or murdering a child I was never impregnated with. 

The whole thing was weird. 

In my mind I think of this as a math issue. 

In reality, it shouldn't be an issue at all. 

Why in the world would a guy think such a thing? 

Anyway - 

I find myself wondering if this is why I won't date. 

Maybe I don't trust people enough anymore. 

We all live in our own little worlds.  It's hard to find someone whose world melds with yours. 

Even if you think that person knows what you're up to and what is going on, 

his imagination can take him to a place so strange that is incredibly mindboggling.

The first guy thought I was pregnant when I wasn't. 

The second guy thought I was a masochist who wanted to play the role of a cuckhold (I left when he brought me a dude to engage in intimacies with while he watched....eww....this was in the age of AIDS by the way....ick).

The third guy must've thought me a liar with how much he stalked me. 

The fourth guy told everyone I worked for the CIA and sent demons after him.  Is that what government types supposedly do now?  That's taking the whole Satanic Mason conspiracy theory a tad bit too far, wouldn't you say? Wow...

See? 

Those relationships were weird.  

Maybe I'm weird and thus attract weirdness to me. 

*****

There was an epiphany as I sat in that closet with piles of clothes around me, 

maybe I'm avoiding men because I fear this guy is going to come back

in a little world of his own and stir up a mess. 

My ex-husband was very threatened by this figure from my past (because his cousins went to school with us).  When my old friend wanted to talk, I figured it was about the math problem above so I met with him.  I think he just needed his confidence bolstered a bit. 

My ex went into mad stalker mode. 

I don't want this happening again. 

*****

Last night I had two nightmares involving this figure from my past. 

In one dream, we walked into each other on a street.  Demons came out from the shadows, baring their gnarly teeth and raising the heat so much so that we melted together into a black mass of goo. 

Icky, huh? 

The next dream was worse.  

We are sitting together in a house and looking out of a window. The sky darkens, space ships fill the sky, the ground is exploding in the distance.  As we watch, the explosions grow closer until there is nothing left but blackness. 

In both scenarios we die. 

All hell breaks loose if I so much as talk to this person. 

It would be nice if my subconscious mind would stop reminding me of him. 

Maybe I will bury the letter under the raspberry bush I'll plant shortly after frost season is over. 

Raspberry bushes are a symbol of kindness.  

Truth be told, I feel like this dream could be of just about any relationship with any guy. 

 Men come into my life wanting to change it up and -   whoosh - my way of life is over. 

I guess some of us can be too damaged to love. 

Sigh - 

May you find that which you need

and easily let go of that which you don't. 

Love ya, 

S.