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Monday night - 4/3

Don't have a lot of time so I'm going to write this off the top of my head. Sorry if it doesn't make any sense. Late to work this morning-- I HATE BEING LATE TO WORK. Set me up for a rotten Monday but it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be so never mind.

Merle rescued me Saturday evening. I was sliding down into the abyss when she called and insisted we come down and have dinner with her. Joe was already cooking grilled vege french bread pizza, so we took it and a bag of salad with us. Merle had bought white pizza with bacon & cheese off somebody's kid at work (some kind of fund raiser) and started a salad of her own. Turned out to be a great combination. The Movie Channel was playing Three Stooges. We watched one where Curly went nuts everytime he saw a mouse and started beating up everyone in sight and screaming, "Moe, Larry, the cheese." Laughing releases some sort of neat chemicals in your bod-- I should watch the stooges every day.

Lauren spent the night here Friday. She talked us into taking her down to the playground before we went out to eat. Ended up at Cracker Barrel which wasn't too smart because it was a thirty minute wait. Bought her a Fuzzy Willy-- with the magnet and iron shavings you drag around to create whiskers and such. Only this was a girl, Hair Do Harriet. Pretty silly. Lauren crashed right after we got served. She was catching a cold and could hardly keep her eyes open.

Growlf dog had his annual bath this past weekend. Man was he a mess. I brushed and brushed and brushed him before giving him the bath but I had to brush and brush and brush him afterwards too. Then the next day he got all these little matted things on his back. Joe brushed so much fur off of him-- the fur pile was bigger than our cat. Finally he is fluffy again.

We're having roofs put on over our 2 upstairs porches. Hoping this will take care of our leaky sunroom below. It's looking pretty nice but we haven't been able to decide whether to buy ready-made spindles or have the contractor make ones himself out of 2x2's. I keep wanting to get excited about this project. But I'm afraid to because it seems like inside the house we're still coming apart at the seams.

A horrible thing is happening next door. One of the trees the borough planted a year ago has been uprooted (wasn't planted right.) The borough won't do anything about it because they maintain once they plant them on your land, you're responsible. And the neighbors don't seem to care that one of their trees is dying. It's making me sick to my stomach because it's a really beautiful Bradford Pear-- 15 feet high or so-- blooming, starting to get little green leaves, trying really hard to live. It's like watching some little animal being tortured. I don't know what to do. It's too big for me to go over and pick it up and drag it down to our yard but I can't stand watching it die this slow death for no fucking reason.

I guess I should go to bed. It's almost 11. I'm glad we changed the clocks because it's staying light out later but I'm missing that hour of sleep big time. Hope everyone out there is okay. Thanks for reading.

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Saturday - 3/25 - 5:25PM

Joe's asleep on the couch. We had a late night at Marilyn's last night. She invited us over for dinner-- a scrumptious turkey/vegetable stir fry with rice. Marilyn and I had a bit of vino and a bit more, and some Bailey's with coffee, and some Bailey's without coffee. Good music-- danced for a couple of hours to Steely Dan, The Police, Stevie Wonder, Counting Crows. Merle had bottles of bubbles so we stood out on her front porch and blew bubbles into the night. Merle's the hostest with the mostest. One thing we didn't do. We didn't hear our cousin, walking down the street, saying "Here dogie, dogie, dogie" as Merle swore he did one night last week. Oh well, maybe next time. By the way, I had to look up "dogie" to make sure I was spelling it right. It's not one of those words you use in everyday conversation unless maybe you're a cowboy. The dictionary gave the definition-- "motherless calf". Our cousin always called doggies, dogies. Motherless calf just about made me want to start crying but I didn't.

Incredibly nice day for March--- 70's and sunny. Joe took a ride to Majorsville this morning to meet a furnace guy. I stopped down last weekend and discovered the furnace wasn't running. He fixed whatever caused the thing to not stay lit. Then found a crack in the heat exchanger. Said we could probably get by for a while as long as we buy a couple of carbon monoxide detectors. Carbon monoxide made me want to start laughing but I didn't.

I had a loverly morning. Lauren came over and she and Growlf and I had a picnic on the front porch. She packed a pretty nice picnic basket: apples, peanut butter, crackers, cream cheese and diet coke. Heather and a friend were out at the big bird, standing in line to buy tickets so Lauren & her friend can see In Sync in concert. It was a mob scene but they drew numbers. Heather's friend drew 423 (which, by the way, was my dad's birthday and still is Kathy Klick's birthday). The first number called was 423. So those kids will be going to their first rock concert in July. I think the mothers were more excited about it than the kids. I also think 7 is a little young to be going to rock concerts but nobody asked me.

A couple guys I work with went to the Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young concert here last weekend. Said it was awesome. Told me they paid over $75 a ticket. I said I wouldn't pay $75 a ticket to see the Beatles (with Lennon back from the grave.) But that isn't true. I probably would pay $75 to see the Beatles. My cousin Marty also saw CSN&Y but if you know Marty, you knew he'd go because he is the biggest Neil Young fan there is, bar none. He might have liked the review a local yokel wrote in our local (yokel) paper. Said the concert might as well have been entitled Neil Young and Three Old Men.

Damn Growlf dog was outside eating baby bunnies this afternoon. Did you ever hear a bunny scream? It's not a nice sound at all. I know it's natural that dogs kill rabbits. The stupid rabbits build these warrens in our yard every year and every year one of my animals manages to eat the babies. Maybe the dingo ate your baby.

I have to tell you about the temp at work. She is obnoxious as hell, has a face that looks like someone took a shovel to it, and refuses to do what I need her to do. The stupid part is I'm letting her do what she wants which is work on her resume', read her paperback novel, and complain about her life. Then there's my old assistant who keeps coming back to visit and telling me how everything is wonderful at her new job, and how she's earning way more than me at her new job, and how she's practically designing databases at her new job, blah, blah, blah... It's been not so great a week.

Yesterday afternoon I was majorly stressed. Joe called and ask me to lunch, said we could eat outside the Atwood Deli. The Atwood Deli is this really sleazy looking dive across the street from where Joe works. It's old-- I figured they had to have pretty good food to have been around this long. They have this really neat old fashioned stainless steel loudspeaker mounted on the store front and they play music like Frank Sinatra, Peggy Lee and Ray Charles. For weeks now, in the early evening, when I'm waiting for Joe, I've been thinking about going over to the Atwood Deli. They have a few cheap plastic tables & chairs set out on the sidewalk. At that time of the evening everything else is starting to quiet down and the music from that big loud speaker echoes up and down Atwood Street (it's been calling me.) So yesterday, when Joe said we could eat there, I envisioned us stepping back in time when things weren't so hectic and people weren't so crude. On my way there, I walked around the skinny guy who resembles the artist-formerly-known-as-Prince except he's such a crack head that there's hardly anything left of him, so he's more like the skeleton-formerly-known-as-Prince. He wears a red cowboy shirt and red pants, and cowboy boots with worn down heels. He walks around Oakland babbling about something. The table I picked was wobbly and I was staring directly into the sun. The bar next door, owned by the same guy who runs the Deli, had its windows open wide and there were college kids literally hanging out, spilling warm beer on the sidewalk beside me. Joe came out with our lunches in paper bags and asked me how my day was going. A Mack truck came around the corner and parked next to the curb beside us. The driver jumped out leaving the engine running. I couldn't hear the deli's loudspeaker or the kids in the bar anymore. I looked over at Joe and his lips were moving but all I could hear was that truck's engine. Twenty-five minutes or so went by. We ate, we smoked, we moved our lips at each other. Then it was time to go back to the office.

Well, it's after 7 now so I better quit. I hear noises from downstairs so Joe must be awake. Thanks for reading. Hope everything is good with everyone.

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Sunday (or Sudnay if you can't type), March 12, 2000, 1:00PM

All my friends got flowers in their eyes
But I got none this season
All of last years blooms have gone and died
Time doesn't give a reason

It's Sunday again. Lauren's roller-skating birthday party is tonight. I hope I'm okay to go, I have to be.

I was invited to a St. Patrick's Day party last night-- some guy at work. I was supposed to RSVP by Friday but hadn't and when I was leaving that day, he asked me if I was coming. I told him we'd really like to but weren't sure. Truth was I hated being the only one from work who didn't show up (didn't want to be rude) but I couldn't picture me partying with the people I work with-- it's not like I can be myself or anything. Anyway, ended up having a huge panic attack that started yesterday early evening and lasted all through the night. It was all I could do to stay in my skin let alone go out to a party. So much for that.

My one assistant's last day was Friday. We took her out to lunch Tuesday and Friday we had a cake for her. This coming week there's a dinner planned, Tuesday or Wednesday night. I just want to say, "Leave already. Get outta here. No really, get outta here."

I talked for a couple of minutes to the temp they're giving me. She seemed capable (from all I could gather in a three minute conversation.) But in that brief time, she also gave me the impression that she was going to be bored with the things I need for her to do. She already started putting the guilt trip on me about how these tasks wouldn't be using her many skills. (Hey, shut up. It's a temp position for crying out loud.) It didn't help that she had a voice like a woman I used to work with whom I despised. Hoping when she comes in on Tuesday, it goes a little smoother.

Work is starting to get more complicated than ever. The database wars continue. This past week, they started to get ugly when the database guy told my boss (a Vice President) he couldn't have both a laptop and a desk top computer-- it was against "the rules." Then my boss found out about all the shit this little weasle has been putting me through. Like the fact that I have no documentation and he was erasing all the queries I wrote and won't give me access to write reports. I didn't even have to say anything about the guy's attitude problem-- once my boss read a couple of the emails he had sent me, it was all too evident. Nice to have someone supporting me but the weasel has me intimidated enough that I don't want to piss him off. What if he leaves, then what will we do? I certainly don't know enough about it to do it all myself. My boss has promised to get me enough education, which is really great but I'm not sure when I'm supposed to have the time to do this.

Besides having to deal with my one assistant gone and the other one moving up front, the whole health care systems' accounting system has changed. We've switched software and have all new codes and forms. Later this month the health care system is switching to PTO (paid time off) which will take the place of our vacation, personal, and sick days. All of the timesheets have changed and and they way they have to be entered into the system will be changing too.

To further complicate things, the boss is changing the whole structure of our department. He's had me working on a new policy and procedures and organizational charts. He's in the process of developing a "Central Service Center" that will take care of all the incoming client calls, questions, intakes and scheduling for all our other sites and affiliates. Eventually (at least in theory,) this should make my job easier but I'm having a hard time seeing anything but the chaos it's causing in the interim.

He's very sales oriented, my boss-- we've been sending out proposals, sometimes two a day. Again, no one is really sure how we're going to handle all these new clients once contracts are signed since everybody is pretty much maxed out and operating over capacity as it is.

”Waiting for the trains that just never come
Beginning to believe in
the disappearing nature of the people we have been
We have begun to change into the worst kind of people
So unkind
Oh apologies, no apologies, this apology
Doesn't describe the way it feels to feel for you"

The thing that's really driving me crazy is it's all a bunch of crap but it takes up all my time. I have so many other things in my life that need to be attended to-- my marriage is disintegrating. Heather continues to have major problems. Our house would be condemned if the health department came around-- there's just never any time. I don't have a clue what's up at Majorsville. I never get to think about writing or playing my guitar and I'm lucky if I get a chance to log on to the Internet once a week. Why is it like this? The most important things in my life get the least time & attention devoted to them. This can't be how it's supposed to be.

And why am I still so screwed up when I've been in treatment for so long?? Shouldn't I at least feel okay? Joe got my prescriptions filled Friday and they cost over $1100.00. Granted they were for three months and thank God, I have insurance to help pay. Otherwise I couldn't be taking these meds. If I couldn't take these meds, I'm afraid I wouldn't be here. But the point it, I am taking them but still freaking out way too often for comfort.

Then there's the dreams. Every night. A succession of them, always the same themes. Taking care of my sick parents and knowing I'm going to have to watch them die again. The three ocean ones... being there on vacation and it's the last day and I realize I never went down to the beach. Or it's the last day and past time to check out and I haven't even started packing. Or the big wave comes and washes everything off the island. Then there are the little animal dreams where I find animals I forgot I had, and I haven't been feeding or caring for them. And finally the dreams about someone who nearly destroyed me with his rejection but with whom I continue to be obsessed. These go on and on and on like bad reruns on TV. I'm never able to resolve them. Half the time I wake up more exhausted then when I went to sleep.

There's a night life falling down on me
I just feel like a change
Beneath the sun in the summer,
a sea of flowers won't bloom without the rain
But oh, this desert life, this high life
Here at the dying end of the day
I wasn't made for this scene baby
But I was made in this scene
And baby it's just my way

But I have to stop thinking about all of this right now. That's what throws me into a panic attack. I can't let that happen today or I'll miss Lauren's party. I'm sorry for venting, writing all of this crap. I hope everything is okay with all of you. Thanks for reading.

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March 5- 2000, Sunday afternoon

It's been a long time since I've written in here. Things are strange.

Work itself isn’t bad—not what I’d choose if I could but then who gets to choose. I’m so busy, the days are flying by in a smear… it can’t be March already… Lauren can’t be seven already… Heather can’t be almost thirty…

Have a few stories about my boss to pass along. A couple of weeks ago, one of my assistants announced she was leaving to take a position with another department. More money, better job, who can blame her? I can but that’s another story. My boss has been having visions (or delusions) of how he wants to change/improve things. He told me rather than filling her position he wants to hire someone for a new position he’s creating. This wasn’t a thrilling vision to me. Even with both assistants, I've been working too much overtime just to keep my head above water. I decided to be straight with him, tell him about my concerns, why I think it’s imperative we hire a replacement, blah, blah, blah. I didn’t tell him how flipped out I was but I told him I was anxious. He said my other assistant would move to the front office, take over the receptionist responsibilities. I knew this woman didn't want to do that; she already told me. I can’t blame her. It isn’t what she was hired to do. I told him, “I’m worried she'll leave if she's moved out front.” He said, “Then she’ll leave. She shouldn’t be working here if she’s not flexible.” I said, “Look, now you're really making me nervous.” He said, “I’m not here to make you feel comfortable.” End of that conversation.

As you probably know, we had a horrendous thing happen in Pittsburgh this past week. A guy went nuts and gunned down five people in McDonalds and Burger King. Then he held wheelchair-bound hostages in a building that also houses a nursery/daycare. Three people died including an elderly former priest and a 20 year old Pitt student. A couple of our counselors got called in to do “CISD’s” (Critical Incident Stress Debriefings) for people who were having a hard time dealing with the trauma. We had a staff meeting between 2 of the debriefings when the boss told us we should listen to the wire services because he had talked with the Associate Press about our involvement. Someone asked him how the AP found out and he said he had called them. He said this would bring us a lot of free publicity, it was a golden opportunity, letting companies out there know what valuable services we offer.

A couple days ago I was up in the front office looking for a file. It was in the bottom drawer so I was kneeling on the floor in front of the file cabinet, looking for it. My boss walked by and said something to the effect, “That’s what we like to see-- you on your knees.”

I know I’m naïve but it never ceases to amaze me how crude some people are.

I’m glad it’s the weekend and I have some time to write here. I miss writing in here. I miss a lot of things.

” I have dreamed of a black car that shimmers and drives
Down the length of the evening to the carnival side
In a house where regret is a carousel ride
We are spinning and spinning and spinning and now...

I haven’t wanted to deal with some of the other stuff that’s been happening in my life. You all know how good Joe is to me... I mean, he’s my best friend… always will be. Our relationship is sacred. He loves without condition. But things here haven’t been what they used to be for awhile now. We’ve been together long enough to know that relationships go through lots of ups and downs. This is different. We’ve admitted to each other that we both feel it—and it’s not for any particular reason. I know both of us being depressed for so long hasn’t helped. It’s really hard to live with a depressed person. And when both of you are depressed, things almost always seem down. So that's part of it but mostly (it’s such a cliché I hate to write it) we’re just growing in different directions. I know I only want the best for him. And I know he’d do anything for me. But sometimes, it’s not just a question of wanting to give each other the best. It’s more like finally coming to grips with what is and what isn’t, even though if you could choose, you’d choose to be another way. Anyway, I probably shouldn’t be writing about this. It’s not like we’ve decided to divorce… in some ways, we’re closer than ever before. I guess it's just that things are different now.

”Oh” she says, “Hey, you’re changing”
But we’re always changing

The afternoon has turned into evening. I talked on the phone with a couple of friends. Heather came over. Barry stopped by, scared Growlf because he showed up at the front door in the dark. Guess I should be thinking about what I'm going to wear to work tomorrow. And what we can have for dinner tonight. Guess I should quit writing in here for now.

Love you. Thanks for reading.