Scared Bunny

Fridays suck.

I know you all read that and said, “What the fuck!” but they really do suck.

The thing is work on Friday goes on forever. It seems like everything is moving in slow motion. I feel like it’s been a full workday and its only 2PM. I just got up to stretch my legs and they felt like I had been sitting for hours, even though it had been maybe an hour.

And people are different on Friday. Nobody wants to get anything done, so if you need someone to do something forget about it. Everyone here was fucking rowdy as hell this morning. I got reprimanded and complained about for a fraction of what was going on. Granted they don’t have to deal with “Use your inside voice” lady, but still…

And I’m still pissed about that. I’m not your fucking toddler lady. I do not have an “inside” voice. You can ask me to speak more quietly, but I just have the one voice which I use in a variety of volumes depending on the situation. Sometimes it will actually be a little loud. At the time it was slightly above normal. Maybe she was nursing a hangover or something, but the rest of us weren’t exactly impressed.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that “It Was a Good Day” comes in at exactly four minutes, twenty seconds.

Getting anything done on a Friday is impossible. And if the weather is good, you are royally screwed. Then everyone who has any time off saved up will be out, and people with no accountability will follow them. Here all the managers are gone so the whole floor is like an empty maze of cubicles waiting for a giant hamster to come through. Giant hamsters would be fucking scary. I used to have hamsters. They bite hard and they can be mean little fuckers. One bit my brother’s finger and held on as my brother tried to get his finger out of the cage. He took a serious beating before he finally let go. Gerbils are nicer.

Someone gave me fake flowers at work with a card saying :

CONGRATULATIONS

You are the new recipient of the award recognizing you are the

VERY BEST

______________________________________
Insert accomplishment here

AGAIN

CONGRATULATIONS

Nobody knows or will admit to giving it to me, and nobody seems to know why I got it. I almost feel like I’m supposed to pass it on to someone else without them knowing who sent it. Maybe it was part of making me feel part of the team. It could also be part of making me feel insane and paranoid. That makes a lot of sense too. Just because I’m paranoid does not mean they are not out to get me.

Well, I am out of random topics for the day, so this is all you get. No sex. Get over it.

Labels: 4:20, awards, confusion, Friday, Ice Cube, life, work

Sometimes I wonder who I am writing for. I have mentioned in the past that it seemed my writing belonged to others. Now I am taking it back. I don’t do this out of anger, but because I need to return my writing to the healthy outlet it used to be. It is like reclaiming a part of my life, or almost like reclaiming part of my body. If you lost an arm, and had to choose whether or not to attach it, you would choose to have the arm. That is what I am choosing. The very first entry was titled “Sometimes you have to tell someone” because what was going on in my life was beyond belief and I needed to vent. Now I once again need something that is mine but that is shared with the world, regardless how small the audience may be.

I fell in to a pattern of depression and I am fighting my way out of it. I would eat when I needed comforting, and my metabolism isn’t exactly designed for that. Now I have a large goal of weight loss I am working on. I go to a gym almost every day just for cardio because I need that built up just to be able to do the other exercises. This has taken a toll on my already fragile ego. I used to know that I was at least semi-good looking. Now I am fat. It’s what I see in the mirror when I get ready to shower. I even had to buy some fat pants.

Consider how this comes at a time when I am single. I used to use personal ads and besides the crazy women I also found a bunch of women who had serious misperception of what an average build is. Now, I know I do not have an average build, but if I tried to date them now we’d be a match. I am superficial, and I admit that. Tricia was and is very attractive, so I was drawn to her. I can’t get the level of woman I desire right now so I wouldn’t try even if I wanted to.

I’m not even happy getting down to the weight I was though. I am mostly looking at what size I want to be. I want a 32 inch waist (If I can without looking bony). I want the smallest waist I can have and be healthy. I am dedicated to diet and exercise like never before. I want to look at myself and be proud of how I look, and I have never felt that way before. I also want to set a good example for my son so he doesn’t follow my bad example.

This, of course, means lots of things like Special K, Slimfast, V-8 and Gatorade (during exercising). I don’t mind the Special K, and the rest are not bad, I guess, but I am a big country cooking kind of guy, so it’s rough right now. It’s not easy to avoid the all you can eat buffets and high fat Chinese food. I know, though, that not avoiding them would be a huge mistake because it’s easier to stay on that balance beam than try to jump off it and land right back in place. If it weren’t gymnasts wouldn’t all be skinny little pixies. They don’t eat a 20 oz. Rib Eye with fries or a baked potato. I could do that every day.

I wish I could get my heart rate up when I’m at work. Imagine if typing kept it at 146 (a good aerobic level). I’d be down to a 32 inch waist in 2 months.

I guess I need to set a realistic goal. If I can lose 3 pounds a week I can be down to the weight I was when we split by New Years, and my target around February. Those are realistic goals if I just stick to it. Thanksgiving may be tough because I have my son, but he hates turkey, so if we don’t have family he and I can do chicken and nothing else special.

God… this just became a Dating, Relationships, Humor, Bipolar, Parenting, Weight loss blog. Now all I need is to learn to knit and to move to Asia and lie about my age.

Labels: fat, life, weight loss, writing

I have finally found a cure to my anxiety. Well, not a cure, but a control. If I keep myself productive at work, I stay calm. I am not sure if writing will work or not, but I am going to try. What I do know is that working means making more money and more money means less stress. I am paid on a commission so, needless to say, I get worried some months. It's a curse. We have people here making millions, so there is an incentive to work. Others barely make enough to cover their base.

What is real funny is how I can make all that money. The key is sitting on the phone all day. So I'm at my desk with the Bluetooth headset just like the Time/Life operators from those old commercials selling books about plumbing. The difference is I am selling millions of dollars to people who own more than I will ever imagine owning. That and we don’t use those odd pictures of strangely blank white guys in our reading materials.

The funny thing is, sometimes I can be working and really achieving nothing, but it still relaxes me. It's my mind that is the problem. If it's kept busy it doesn't trigger the physical discomfort. It's a tricky thing to master though because I am a master at switching between multiple thoughts very quickly. I used to believe I could actually think of more than one thing at once, but I now realize I am just one of those blessed with a quick mental trigger. In the past it has been a great benefit, but now it is a pain. I flip back and forth from good (or sometimes blank) thoughts to bad ones.

It’s just tough right now for me. I am re-training my mind and I know now that no pill can do it and really no therapist. I have to do it myself. It's just like my getting back in shape. Every day I have to do that cardio whether I feel like it or not. I have to make myself get off the couch and get on the bike. Well, in the car, in the gym and then on the bike. I really think that I understand now why programs have partners and they urge people to join a gym with a buddy. It’s about accountability. Having someone with you going through it would make all the difference. That said, I don’t want some crazy chick as a sponsor. The sane women won’t touch me, and I don’t blame them. A male sponsor in intriguing, but the whole naked in the locker room thing is awkward.

At home it's harder. My house is empty and I can't ignore that. A home for 5 or more has 1, and that makes me depressed and anxious. I swear I want a studio when I move. OK, not that small, but I may even go 1 bedroom just because there is no need for another. My son loves to sleep either on the couch or in my huge bed, so why not (other than where to keep his stuff.). I can just feel the absence of people in that house. Now I understand why a house feels haunted. It's not ghosts. It's that the life that should be there just isn’t. That leaves us as intruders on their turf. No spirits are involved, but we sense spiritual emptiness, and it scares us.

Labels: anxiety, emotions, life, mind control

I am in a weird mood right now.

To be honest I am in neither a good mood nor a bad mood. I have been exchanging emails with someone and knowing they are happy and I’m not doesn’t make me feel better. I know it’s selfish but I kind of felt like it was twisting the knife, even though it was just a statement of fact. I don’t want to be with the person, but I want to be missed. I want them to want to be with me even though they can’t be. I am being a selfish bastard and I know it, but it’s true.

I am not numb. I’ve been there, and that is usually a medication issue. I feel, but I don’t know what I feel. I’m not anxious. I’m not depressed. I want certain things to happen, but that isn’t an emotion. I am, in the truest sense of the word, just being. I am keeping myself busy and have plans to do so over the weekend as well. I have a plan to start my weight loss. I have an idea on my exercise. In short I am doing what I need to do. But it’s not giving me satisfaction, nor is it making me feel weak or helpless.

I am making moves for the future that, if they pay off, will help alleviate so much stress. On the other hand I am aware that much of my fate is beyond my control. I am aware, but only mildly afraid. I can only do so much and the rest is up to the universe. Maybe that book “The Secret” is right. Keep on trying and have the right attitude and it comes back to you. When I was down I got nowhere. We’ll see what this gets me.

I have but one goal. I have to get financially strong enough that my son wants for nothing. When he said he would miss me this weekend it didn’t make me cry. I was happy for once, because he never says that. I can tell he really wants to be with me, which is more than I can say for most people. One day he will be someone great. He may not be famous, but he will be a great man other men will look up to. And I will look on with pride wondering how he ever got there.

Labels: life, medication, relationships, stress

I was reading one of those: How does your birth order impact your personality in relationships pieces, and now I'm confused.

First, understand my dilemma. I was a first born. BUT, there were multiple miscarriages before me. Then my mother remarried and I was a middle child. Then my siblings were kidnapped and I was an only child again. But they were found, so I was back in the middle. Then the younger one was kidnapped again, and I was the youngest.

So where, exactly, do I fit?

My therapist says most of what makes your personality is formed by age 5, so we can eliminate everything starting with the remarriage. But was I a first born, middle child, youngest or only child. Surely the miscarriages affected how I was raised. But does that mean I was pushed more toward an only or a first born. Was a coddled like a last born? I am confused.

Even worse, I meet the criteria for a First, part of a second and most of only. The charm thing for a third is something I have been told, but I feel I have lost that over the last couple of years. In fact, a friend of mine pointed out when we went to watch a fight that I have no charm at all when it comes to women. Frankly I didn't give a shit since I wasn't looking to meet anyone. Maybe they are all just expecting men to push and try too hard and I'm not going to do it.

It's very strange for me because I am not at all interested in dating or a relationship. Everywhere you go, when you meet someone of the opposite sex you are expected to try to impress them. What they get from me is the same thing a casual guy friend would get. I make smart ass remarks and if you make an ass of yourself I laugh at you and make fun of you for the rest of the night over it. In short, I treat everyone like a guy. And, even worse, I am not interested in making these people friends usually because I know I'll never see them again. Why would I? I don't live in a bar, grocery store, restaurant…

I am not looking for a girlfriend, a hook-up, a friend with benefits or anything. That part of me right now is TOTALLY dead. I know the faithful readers, or those who read the real old archives will have a hard time believing this, but I have almost no interest in sex. And I think that if I did develop an interest nothing would come of it. It would be lame to end up in bed with me right now. I'd never make a move on you and spend an hour or more tossing while I tried to fall asleep.

This is a person I don't understand or really like. Neither of those is a change, but the person is a change. I'm told I am making progress, but maybe I just put myself out there less. I don't even really know anymore. I do know that I am not the same person, and whatever defines who we are has me in a spot where I can be multiple people and not like any of them.

I think it's time to take off my shoes and rest my feet. Maybe that will relax me.

Labels: birth order, dating, life, relationships