Again. New and Hope.

Ok. I don't know what this blog is supposed to be about. Other than it is about me. And my thoughts. I guess that it's ultimately about my struggles. My struggle to be the best me I can be.

I've finally figured out that is what I want. I want to be the best me possible. Perhaps, that way I can be happy. That way--I can find purpose in my life. Maybe. Maybe.

Hopefully.

Of course, there are some less lofty goals that I have. Like wanting to be able to pay my bills. Wanting a new car, wanting to travel, wanting a hot boyfriend with a crazy, hard body. Eh, I wouldn't mind a sick, hard body for myself either.

With my craziness, how do I trust the new path I'm on now?  Well, I don't know.  But I can tell you, I feel more like myself, more me than I have in a long time, maybe more than I ever have.  I know it's the fancy cocktail of designer drugs and I know that I have to continually adjust and check in with myself to make sure I don't lose myself.  There is fear involved.

So I'll try to be honest. I'll try to follow-through. And follow-up. And I have a lot of work to do - studying and traveling and working and schmoozing and exercising.  This is what I have to do.

So this is what I'll do.

What the H? It's 10 am already?

Ok.

So.

I have not been writing but I've been thinking about it a lot. I've been writing posts in my head and reading other people's posts and thinking, "Hey! They said what I'd like to say, but waaay more eloquently than I ever could." And let's be honest, my last couple of posts sucked. Yeah, I said it and you read it. They Sucked.

I've been thinking about what I'd like to say and what kind of theme this blog should have and who I am and who I'd like to be. It seems like a stupid, muddled up thing. I am who I am, right? Yes, but no. I always want to be more. I am never comfortable with where I am now. I am never, ever forgiving of who I am. And we can always change, right?

Can we always change? Because I'm doing a shitty job of changing. I'm still fat, still unhappy, still 40 (Although I'm *totally* not. I will cut you.), still fighting mental illness, still not in a relationship, - wow, this is NOT cheering me up. Point is: I haven't been doing a great job of changing.

I've even stopped my whole "I'm fucking 40 and I don't want to look 80" regime. I haven't been washing my face at night. I haven't been flossing. I haven't been moisturizing or sunscreening or giving a shit. I'm lucky to fucking brush my teeth and wash my hair.

I've been eating ice cream. And M&M's. And pizza. Oh, by the fucking way: Girl, remember how you don't eat Asian food because you fucking throw up? Yeah, stop fucking eating pizza. You throw up, you fucking moron! (Said with love.)

Work is getting out of control. Everything is slipping. The "trying to be a good daughter" shtick is getting real old. And now, being on the meds - I'm not caring so much. They're numbing me out - just a bit - just enough. Just enough to not want to die, but to let everything fall apart, too.

And I'm busy. I'm trying to spend time with friends and family and make more friends and create this life that I want.

How do I make the life I want? How do I stop whining about it?

Do something fucking interesting!

I am so over me right now. Forgive me if I take a break - this is getting ridiculous.

-Electricity. E-lec-tri city

So. Hi! My daily wrap up is gonna come early because guess who doesn't have electricity at her abode today? That would be me. Did you guess me? Cause you are soo smart!

I have NOT made a list of things I want. That list is supposed to help push me in the right direction. Although, I suspect that there will really only be a couple of things on that list.

-Stuff like:
***Get healthy -- be thin.
***Travel more.
***Spend time with family and friends.
***Get a sex life. (whoops! tmi?)
***Enjoy self more -- stop stressing little things.

Huh. That wasn't so hard. I think that is my list, honestly.
The "sex life" thing would have to be in the confines of a loving relationship, but still. It's a goal, right? OOOH. I just realized I put "enjoy self more" under "sex life." I guess that's one way to go about it. Heeee.

------

We are staying in the motel again tonight. So I'm off to buy shampoo because Imma not gonna go to our back-woods hovel just to pick up shampoo. Spending spree it is!
Also: I was going to make dinner tonight. I guess we'll have to eat out again. Oh, darn! (Actually, a simple meal was sounding good to me. Oh, well.)

It's true, I'm UP!

So I start work in a little less than 5 hours. At least that's when I need to be there. I need to leave in 3 hours 45 minutes. Ugh! And I've been awake for 2 hours, 15. In the interest of saving time, I've actually taken my shower and done my hair. (Hair: only so much that I don't really have to mess with it tomorrow.. I can sleep on it.) (( Did I write "tomorrow" - It is actually TOday! ))

Went out today and looked at condos and houses again. G and Mc came with. (BTW-Mc and I made up, again.) I got very excited about a house or two. Mom really wants a condo. I mean in so much as that the little house I was excited about she has already pooh-poohed. Oh, well. She wants a condo and it is her money. Long story.

WHY am I awake? This, I fear, is going to be disaster. I mean, it's always hard to sleep the night before you start a new job. . . but this is ridiculous!! Seriously!! I'm totally going to get tired and then not be able to concentrate and if I could just grab a couple of more hours, I think I might be safe. But as it stands now: I'm going to need coffee and sugar.. which, of course, means that I will be all hyper and freak-like and then crash and be all yawny. AND I'll probably need it at least twice. FCUK! (typo on purpose-sorta)

Anybody out there? Anybody have ideas, other than to lie in bed until I make myself crazy? The other school of thought is that you are supposed to lie there xx minutes (what is it, like, 20?) and then get up and do something else for xx minutes (this time I have no idea). But I've tried lying there and then getting up and anwering emails and playing computer solitare. Then back to bed. Then reading a chapter in my book while lying in bed and then lights out. Then getting up and taking a shower and doing my hair. And then back to bed. (this time I didn't stay the required xx minutes - I basically just popped back up.) Have played more solitare (I'M ADDICTED TO SPIDER SOLITARE and I currently suck at it.). Then decided to go back to bed but before I made it, I decided I could blog.

Another aside - someone once mentioned that bloging came from somewhere - where exactly? I'll have to look it up. According to Wikipedia - A blog is a contraction of the term "Web log." Just wondering. Wondering concluded.

I'm going to try the bed again. Wish me luck.

After Lunch

Attempting to work. Thoughts of this stupid blog run through my head. Wanted to have the theme of discomfort run through it. So far, I think I’ve succeeded in advertising that I am uncomfortable in my own skin.

Need to do work. Address an envelope and realize that I won’t send it. My handwriting is appalling. Have to open Word to type the address. Jacksonville, FL. Wonder if those people are at work. Did Hurricane Charley tear them up? Were their homes destroyed? Was their town spared, but they get a couple of well-deserved days off? How do I know they are well deserved?