Sunday night - 12/26/99 - 10:48PM
Had a pretty good Christmas-- quiet. Visited over at my aunt's house on Christmas Eve. My sister had a wonderful turkey dinner on Christmas Day. Afterwards, my daughter and granddaughter came over to our house and we exchanged gifts. Today another aunt stopped by for a visit then tonight a friend had a party. I didn't think I'd have enough energy for any of this socializing but isn't this what it's all about, being with friends and family and loved ones?
Everyone seems to get so emotional at Christmas... especially me, lots of laughing and crying... missing people who aren't here... trying to capture time with the ones who are with me... writing cards to old friends I haven't seen in a long time... not hearing from some people I'd like to hear from. It's all very heavy isn't it?
The new job seems to be going well. I'm making every mistake there is in the book (and some that weren't in there at all) but everyone has been very friendly and supportive. I have to work tomorrow but it's not real work because I'm just going to orientation. I took a gazillion notes last week. Tried to decipher and rewrite them over the weekend. Hoping I haven't bitten off more than I can chew. It's all stuff I've done before but on such a bigger scale. The other places I worked, the administrative stuff was all up to me or me and my friend Debbie. Now I'm supposed to supervise and delegate. Thank god I have those other two-- I'd be up shit creek if I didn't. It will get very interesting once my boss starts. The only thing I know about him is he's from Connecticut, in his forties, married with one child, and headed up a huge nationwide employee assistance program. I'm wondering if he'll be cool or he'll want me to get him coffee and shit. He starts January 4, so I guess I'll find out soon.
Majorly pissed off the writing friend I wrote about in my last entry... so much so that she won't even accept the Christmas gift I got for her. We had been working on a project together, with four other people, writing a novel. Anyway, things seemed to be getting out of control so I resigned from the group tonight. Guess it's back to my own book, if I can ever find it in that dark, spidery attic I call my mind.
I wanted to put some sort of quote in here but I'm too tired to think of one. I'd better go to bed. Even if it is just for orientation, I still have to get up at 4:30 tomorrow morning. Hope everyone had a great Christmas. Thanks for reading. Catch you later... definitely before the New Year.
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Tuesday - 12/21/99 - 8:42PM EST
A short entry.... Two days at the new job, driving in & out of Oakland, I'm tired. Things at home are not cooperating. Our bathroom is leaking into our first floor hall and dining room so I'm getting ready for work in the powder room on the landing, approximately 3 feet by 4 feet in size. Fun, fun, fun. We had a new axle put on my car last week. Drove it to work Monday and it sounded like millions of metal fingernails running down a blackboard. Thought the whole car must be leaving its frame or something. Drove Joe's truck this morning-- Merle said I probably looked like Ellie May Clampett. You should have seen the faces on the other drivers as I tried manuevering in and out of rush hour traffic on the parkway. Then I had to park it in the parking garage... felt like I was driving a train.
Someone told the other secretaries at this place that I was a real hot shot, knew everything there was to know. Of course I've done nothing but make mistakes. I was the first to arrive this morning, 7:30. The security guard had to let me in because I don't have a key. I remembered to shut off the audix. But then the phone started ringing-- someone wanting to be connected to so-and-so's voice mail. Do I remember how to do this? No. Took me 15 minutes to read the directions and I'm pretty sure I ended up cutting her off anyway. Then I locked the glass window between the reception and the waiting areas. A counselor came in and told me there's no key. An hour later I ended up picking the lock with a paper clip (maybe I can add breaking and entering to my resume?)
I did manage to find a place to smoke, down in the parking garage under the building I'm working in. Not sure if I'm allowed to be doing that there but I'm going to continue until someone tells me otherwise. I've been eating my lunch at Wendy's, across the street. Unlike most fast food restaurants around here, they still have a smoking area. It's full of street people and winos-- I fit right in.
The woman who is supposed to be training me spent all day yesterday packing her boss's stuff (they're leaving Thursday for their new jobs, new digs.) Today she called in sick. That leaves two days to learn everything before she's gone. Are we starting to freak out yet? No, we'll save that for another day. I'm too tired to freak out tonight.
Christmas is four days away and I just received an email that one of my online orders is out-of-stock. Joe's sister, and my cousins, and a friend of ours are all having Christmas Eve festivities. Another friend is having a night-after-Christmas party. Oh yeah, I'm really going to want to go to a party Sunday night knowing I have to get up at 4:30 Monday morning. Marilyn, bless her heart, is cooking a turkey on Christmas day. I don't know how to tell all these good people I'm probably going to go to bed Thursday night and sleep until Monday morning.
I missed a chat with my writing friends on Saturday. Slept right through it. At least one of them is mad at me. Sorry.... but I'm just so tired.
What if I can't handle this job? Why did they think I could? I could have told them better at the interviews but I just smiled and nodded my head, "Oh sure, I can do that, no problem." One of the first clients in the door yesterday turned out to be a really good friend. How am I supposed to handle that? He kept holding a finger up to his lips, telling me to shut up before I blew it. All I wanted to do was run out into that waiting room and grab him and go out a smoke a gazillion cigs and drink some beers.
Enough of this. I'm going to bed. I'm not bothering to proof read this (not that it does me any good anyway.) Who knows what it's going to end up sounding like. See ya.
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"The best things
Happen when you're dancing
Things that you could not do at home come naturally on the floor
Wednesday - December 15, 1999 (Heather's payday, yeah!) - 10:42AM EST
Some sage left me some great advice in my guestbook. Please accept my apologies for the last few day's worth, or few week's worth, or okay, the last eight month's worth of WHINY DRIVIL. I'm really going to try to behave differently from now on. And since I'm writing this for all to see, (you're reading it, right?), I better not let myself down.
Nobody's asked what Growlf wants for Christmas but it might be the ribs we ate last night at the Texas Roadhouse, a new restaurant in a new shopping center here. (Washington PA has become the queen of strip malls of late. Only good thing is there are a lot more choices for eating out.) Anyway, this Texas place was pretty good but how can a restaurant/bar close at 10 PM and still call itself a restaurant/bar? The ribs were spectacular and the 22 oz. draft Coors Light weren't bad. Wonder if Joe would mind going there again, like maybe tonight, or how about three times a week or so?
Or I could come up with a more varied schedule:
Monday could be Beechies for sandwiches and fries, Tuesday the Texas Roadhouse for tasty ribs, Wednesday the Union Grill for fried zucchini, Thursday the wild animal place Pat keeps telling me about for anything but wild animals, Friday Maggie's Pub for potatoes with your potatoes, Saturday the "New" Tower for the best shrimp in the world, and Sunday we can stay home and eat Osso's pizza. This might be the best idea I've had in a long time but I've run out of days so maybe it should be a two-week schedule? After all, we still have Bob's, and don't forget Steve's Chinese, and we must have Shorty's hot dogs, and...
"
And dancing
Soon becomes romancing
When you hold a girl in your arms that you've never held before
Considered going to Majorsville today, maybe staying down there until Saturday. I'd have to come back for a couple of things (my lunch with Deb and the TB test tomorrow, and Lauren's tree trimming at the church on Friday) but it would be a nice place to hang out and not think too much about starting that new job next week. Still might have to do that; I don't know. If I could just get my damn Christmas shopping done. (Gee, isn't that a nice way to talk about our Lord's birthday? Who put that thought in my mind? Hmmm. Could it be Satan?) I know what Heather wants but I haven't bought it yet. And Joe is the hardest person to buy for. He needs everything in the way of clothes, etc. but those are so boring to play with on Christmas day. I could tell you all what I'm thinking about buying, Joe never reads this. But since I haven't decided for sure, I'd better keep my mouth shut.
"
Even guys with two left feet
Turn out all right if the girl is sweet
If by chance their cheeks should meet while dancing
Proving that the best things happen on the floor "
Irving Berlin
Our bathroom drain problem is B-A-C-K. It's so bad that Joe shaved over the sink this morning and when he let out the water, some horrible stuff came up in the bathtub. Scary what lives in your drains (or, at least, what lives in mine.) We ask our plumber friend (who's dating Joe's best friend's wife) to come over three or four weeks ago, knowing this was coming. Unfortunately, he didn't make it in time. (Probably too busy having fun with Joe's best friend's wife. Ha, ha) Anyway, he has promised to come tonight. Bless you Jeff. If you ever move away, we're going to have to move with you. I HATE plumbing problems and they follow us around to every house we've ever lived in or owned. Maybe we should be like Frood Fry down at Majorsville who used to save his bathing for the creek. Might be a wee bit chilly this time of year.
I'm half afraid to admit it has occurred to me that maybe many of my problems are a result of a misdiagnosis... maybe I need to try lithium. I certainly do have abrupt mood swings. I'll have to ask Gledi about it the next time I have an appointment. Only thing is I've heard it's hard to accept no more manic episodes, no more highs. I can appreciate this. As a wise man once wrote, "I don't want to be an angel but I'm nothing if I'm not this high." Oh well, I'll have to think about this later (tomorrow at Tara, or Majorsville, or where ever I happen to find myself.) Thanks for reading.
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"I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men
Peace on earth, good will to men
Tuesday - 12/14/99 - 4:39 PM EST
Guess I passed the physical. Well I know I did except I have to have the TB patch checked on Thursday. Assume they'd tell me if I flunked the drug test. By the by, that's the first time I've ever had to have a drug test. Not pleasant... lots of rules to follow: don't flush or wash your hands or run any water or you have to do it again. Pretty strange in a "free" country if you ask me.
Stopped to buy shoes and clothes on the way home. Almost ran into my friend Deb, literally. Pulled my car right in front of hers at the last minute. Sorry Deb.
Talked to my old boss. He wanted me to do some work for him next week but was very understanding once I told him I was starting the new job. I must have conveyed my normal enthusiasm. He said, "Gee, hope your attitude changes by then." Me too, Darryl, me too.
My friend Chet from Malaysia sent me a Christmas gift-- two Cd's. How sweet she is. I asked her what she wanted and she said just a card with a picture of me & Lauren. That's easy enough; I'll go have a print made and send it this week.
It never ceases to amaze me how many people care about me. I'm not sure why-- I certainly don't deserve it. Sometimes-- a lot of the times, I worry about letting them down. I can't seem to be what anyone needs me to be. I'm so wrapped up in my own delusions, leaving very little time for me to think about anyone else and how hard they might have it. All my friends and relatives and people I see on the street, everyone's carrying around these heavy loads. I don't know how they get through it. I wish I had that strength and the compassion they show me.
Had a bit too much to drink at Marilyn's party the other night. (So what else is new?) Sometimes (most of the time) it's not a good idea for me to be mixing alcohol with my moods and drugs. I get crazy or morose. That night I slid down into the hole. Ended up arguing with some friends and relatives about the value of my life. Obviously, I don't value it much these days. I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking how I would like to just get out. Anyway, that night people kept grabbing hold of my shoulders and telling me how much they love me. I know they do. I'm thankful they do. I'm just not very fond of myself.
In despair I bowed my head
There is no peace on earth I said
For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men
Peace on earth, good will to men
I also discussed my faith and/or lack of it that night. It's something I use to have and not even think about. Then for awhile it sort of slipped away. When my parents got sick, I found it again. But this last time it left was different. I can't seem to touch it anymore no matter what. It's not that I don't believe in something good out there. It's just that I can't find any in here. Does that make sense? I see Lauren and have no doubt at all what goodness and love mean. I watch a sunset or look at the trees and there's no question in my mind that "God" exists. But God doesn't appear to be part of me anymore. God appears to be all around me but not in me.
So that's where my head is at this Tuesday evening. I'm profoundly sad. Besides the wonderful good around me, I see so much suffering. I wonder if it's my fault for not believing. I wonder if it's who or what I've become. I can't find the energy to fight this off. I just want to find a way out. I know it's not the "right" way to think. I know it's selfish and self-indulgent. But I'm so tired of worrying about it. People tell me I have to think of those around me. I couldn't possibly leave them-- think of how bad it would make them feel. I know this is true. I live for my daughter and for my sister, my husband, my brother and my granddaughter, for my friends, for all those who love me. Is that a good reason for living? I don't know. But right now it's the only one I can think of. It'll have to do.
I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play
And wild and sweet the words repeat
of peach on earth, good will to men
Peace on earth, good will to men"
John Gorka
I don't tell you often enough how much you mean to me. Thanks for reading and listening and loving me. Talk to you soon.
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"In all this time,
The bottom line's you don't know how much I feel
You say you see but I don't agree
You don't know how I feel...
Monday - December 13, 1999 - 5:08PM EST
Today is Marilyn's birthday. Hope it was a good one, Merle.
Maggie threw a surprise party for her Saturday night. We all arrived while Maggie & Scott were taking her out to dinner. Had a few drinks before the car pulled in. Everyone was snickering, hiding in the hall beside the kitchen. Mike whispered, "What's the plan, what are we gonna do?" Nobody knew. The front door opened and Marilyn said, "What is all this stuff?" Maggie said, "I don't know but where is everyone?"
Marilyn looked as if she had swallowed a goldfish. Her hand was clutching her throat for the first hour or two. She had never had a surprise party before. Good food, drinks, and company. Rumor has it Marilyn and Annabelle were still groovin at 5am.
I ran away for awhile Sunday. Drove down to Maryland. Tried to sort out some stuff but guess I was too tired from the night before.
UPMC called last week. They want me to start the job next Monday, the 20th. Have to go have a physical and drug screen tomorrow. That should be interesting. Maybe they'll refuse to hire me because I'm on too many antidepressants. (Wishful thinking.) It's a good job; I just don't want it. Maybe I'll change my mind (or what's left of it) once I start?
Dreamed I found a black monkey hanging on the screen of my back door. Didn't really want to take him in but Growlf sort of liked him. Sheba didn't. Anyway, had to bring him in because otherwise he might starve. I was walking around the house carrying him and hoping he didn't pee on me. As dreams go, guess it was okay. The symbolism is pretty straight forward.
Trying to get all my Christmas shit out of the way before I have to go to work. Sent half my Christmas cards Friday and hoping to get the rest out by tomorrow. Doing a lot of shopping online... so far so good. Of course none of the bills have come in yet.
My old boss called and left a message today. I haven't called him back. Know he's going to ask me to work a day or two this week but I don't think I can do it.... when would I have time to freak out??
I'd better stop. It's pitch black out and I still have to wash the dishes and turn on all the Christmas lights before Joe comes home. Check in with you later this week. Thanks for reading.
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"Well I dreamt that I saw you walking
Up a hillside in the snow
Casting shadows way up on that winter sky
As you stood there counting crows"
Wednesday - 12/8/99 - It's late afternoon. This is from my real journal, a few weeks ago.
I'm finally starting to realize I can't pick and choose what is significant in my life. Hell, most of the time I can't even recognize it when it happens let alone understand it. Some things I think will be so inconsequential end up changing everything. Sometimes it sneaks up behind me and hits me like a fuckin' two by four. Other times its just a faint, very faint whisper in my ear, like an eyelash fluttering against my face. I can't choose these things. I think I'm in control but it's all just an illusion, smoke and mirrors.
I had this thing happen in my life awhile back that should have been nothing. But instead it's become everything. It won't leave me alone no matter what I do. I wake up thinking about it. At night it's the last thing I remember before I fall asleep. I dream about it. Sometimes I'm in the middle of something totally unrelated and I feel this little tap on my back. It's here. I pretend I don't think about it. I know I shouldn't. I pray I won't. It's one of those things that is never going to happen.
"
One for sorrow
It's two for joy
And it's three for girls
And four for boys
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven for a secret, never to be told"
I pray it will just go away and leave me alone but it won't. My own head is the traitor. Everything I thought was real and solid and sure is falling apart and that stupid insignificant thing is taking over. I'm the one I can't trust. I'm the one I can't believe anymore 'cause I don't have any goddamn control. Never did. But I'll keep pretending this isn't really bothering me. It can't be; it was so insignificant. There isn't any truth or future in it but it exists whether I deny or embrace it. My world has turned topsy-turvy, inside out, outside in. And I can't get it out of my head. All I know anymore is I don't know anything. I know I can't speak of it. I have to keep it buried deep inside or everyone would be so horrified and disappointed.
"There's a burned out nest inside you
Sleeping underneath your skin
When you open up your wings to speak
I wish you'd let me in"
Did I imagine the whole thing? Maybe. Who is to say I'm not imagining this? Maybe nothing is real. Did it really matter? Probably not. Maybe nothing matters. Will I ever resolve this? I don't know. Maybe I'll get through this and it will turn out okay. Maybe I'll have to settle for learning something. Oh, I think I'm so deep but the way I act sometimes is so shallow and stupid. I wish I could apologize.
Only one other person knows what really happened. And who is to say what they believe is the real truth. I guess I better just stop thinking about this, for now.
I'm just starting to realize I can't pick and choose what's significant in my life.
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"Waiting here for you
Wanting to tell you
How I get my ends and my beginnings mixed-up too
Just the way you do
Thought if I told you
You might want to stay for just another day or two.
Adam Duritz
Monday - December 6, 1999 - 1:50PM EST
People don't understand what Counting Crows mean to me. It's very personal. I wouldn't expect anyone else to feel the way I feel.
First of all, music is incredibly important in my life. It plays continuously. When I'm not listening to it on a stereo, it's playing in my head. It's like the atmosphere my life resides in. I can't think of an important incident in my life that I don't associate with a piece of music. Some of the times are incredibly wonderful; I'd like to relive them over and over. Other times I'd rather not remember but when I do, the music comes also. It works both ways, when I hear a particular piece of music--- BOOM, part of me is back there in that time, feeling those feelings again, be they good or bad. But that's just music in general.
"Hey baby do you ask yourself
Sometimes what you need to be forgiven
Everything that you've ever done wrong
Is the reason that I'm driven
Straight to you"
Counting Crows have this way of capturing more than just my emotions. Adam Duritz is a poet, an artist. His lyrics inspire and comfort me. They express things I'm afraid or unable to say. I'm in awe because I relate to his words so easily though I'm sure the lyrics mean different things to me than they do to him or any of his other fans. The guitars, the drums and accordian, the piano... they make the experience whole. They are the canvas upon which Adam paints his pictures. It's all so very tactile. The lead guitar in one piece makes me salivate. The piano in another grabs hold of something elementary but forgotten, deep inside me.
Adam has this way of improvising. He doesn't just rearrange the music-- he plays with his lyrics. He'll pull bits and pieces out of one song and put them in the middle of another. It's sheer genius. It's not just a variation on a theme, it's a whole different song. Where there used to be two, there are now three.
When I'm listening to Counting Crows, they affect the way I breathe and the way my heart beats. It's not just emotional, it's physical. Their touch can be like silk or like fire burning.
"Beneath the sun in the summer
A sea of flowers won't bloom
Without the rain"
Listening to them allows me to free something inside of me, something that I normally keep buried and hidden. Something that very well might cause me to explode were it not given expression. Counting Crows provide the vent for my pressure cooker brain. They keep me saner than I would be without them, believe it or not. The bottom line is it's not even a choice anymore. I need them. Counting Crows are a drug and I'm addicted.
Does this make any sense? Probably not. Yes, I know I'm too old for this. Hey, what can I say. I'm crazy; it's just who I am. Thanks for reading.