Platitude Paradise

  I know that I have made so many mistakes. I know this. I openly admit to them... but COME ON! Karla Holmoka didn't serve this much time! I've just gone from being ecstatic on Friday night about a job offer that was to come this week, to crying into my lap today because my prospective employer viewed my credit bureau. I tried to explain what happened. They humoured me... but in the end, they rescinded their offer.  This would have been a good job. A high paying job. A game changer for us. Seriously. Unfortunately, according to a privately owned credit reporting service, I am a certified dirt-bag that can never be trusted again. Ever. It didn't matter why any of it happened, only that it happened. It feels like I will never stop being punished.  I get why I can't obtain credit, but landing a job that would literally change my life? I really don't understand why they even have to know. I've never ever been suspected of anything illegal or untoward. In fact, I h...

We are in uncharted seas these days. Everyone who is obedient is terrified and everyone else is behaving like spoiled children. I have been working mostly from home, with the odd (pretty much weekly) trip into the empty office to deal with mail in and mail out and gather documentation for our accountant. To my knowledge, my job is not currently in jeopardy. I can only hope that continues as we march slowly through the days, weeks and months of social distancing and isolation. Honestly, much of this is no great change for me. I have distanced myself from most everyone quite completely already. If it wasn't for the fear that I experience every time I go to the grocery store, or each time my husband comes home from working out there in 'cootie-ville', I likely wouldn't notice much change at all... except maybe my overall mood. It started many months ago... before Christmas even came. My gumption was absent from my daily routine. It has continued to deterio...

Have you ever rested so much on one thing that, if that one thing doesn't pan out, you're gonna be dusted? I have. I am, in fact. I have a doctor's appointment today from which I need a small miracle... in the form of a pill. To be clear, at this point I do not give a flying fuck what that pill even is... just so long as it brings back my drive... my life force... my will to even be alive.  I have experienced this in the past and gotten relief... even if it wasn't immediate... it still came. I am so lost inside the minutia of life right now, I don't have a clue which end is up and which is down. I'm tumbling through existence at the moment like an asteroid through space... hurtling toward the great expanse of nothingness.  Lately, I can't deal.  Like with anything. My oldest is getting to be quite an expert on sucking every last molecule of oxygen out of a room. I sincerely can't breathe when she is (or I guess to be ...

I am super struggling with the whole "Christmas" thing this year. I mean, I am trying... but I'm dragging myself by the eyelashes.  The house is decorated. The shopping is nearing an end. My house is not overly clean... nor is it going to be... and I just don't care.  I have no baking done, but that part isn't unusual. I am approaching as ready as I'm planning to get... but there is no love in it for me this year.  Zip.  Zero.  Zilch. I'm normally stressed out for one reason or another, but I don't even feel that much excitement this year.  I'm just numb. Work isn't helping. It is so dead in there, I literally would scrub the floor for something to do. I wrapped my boss' Christmas gifts again this year. It further demeans me, but I seriously needed something to do.  It wears me out... not having any purpose.  Drains my spirit. It's likely past time for me to move on... I just...

That's how it sounds in my head tonight. All the thoughts in my head vying for an audience. My ears are literally ringing right now with the sussurus that is going on in there. All of it is negative. Every thought and even the half thoughts - all negative. And mean, too. I should've gone to parent teacher for Stretch tonight. I can easily supply a half dozen reasons why I didn't go, but all that matters is that I didn't. I should've. It's been a challenging time for me of late. My downward trend continues and Mental Health is not falling over itself to bail me out, either. Still no word on a referral back to my psychiatrist. One who has already treated me... one who likely would only need to talk to me on the phone for fifteen minutes and could solve my problem... but it's been three weeks already and still no word. I'm struggling. My energy is zapped. My libido is unconscious. I know this is a chemical thing. I know it can be fixed... ...

Yesterday was my birthday... my forty-seventh birthday. I find myself so depressed today, I just want to sit here and sob. What the hell is the big deal, anyway? Why do I feel this way?  Is it because birthdays are a marker? A measuring stick that we stand up against our lives so we can judge where we are vs. where we should be? If I was to give the birthday pep-talk to someone I cared about, I would say something like: "Birthdays are a celebration of the day that you came into existence and should be filled with all the love everyone has for you." Either I don't care about myself, or I don't buy my own bullshit, because birthdays blow once you reach a certain age... like maybe sixteen. I think sixteen was the last of my happy birthdays. My birthday blew... and sucked.  My husband was away, but he texted me a rousing "Happy dirty day, hun"... which was a spell-check gone wrong. My mother and two sisters texted me happy birt...