Further Tales

This is going to be kind of a schizophrenic entry (and we know I don't use that word lightly). Not to mention long. But there's lots going on. You've been warned.

The big news is, the sun came up today. I didn't think it would. I don't know if I wanted it to or not. But up it came and it forced me to get out of bed, to face the world, to even drive into work. And I made it through the entire day. I couldn't stop crying - or more accurately, I couldn't stop myself from crying when crying wanted to come over me. Walking by the Domino's Pizza at lunch. Sending off files to FedEx Kinkos for printing. After spin class while I wiped down the bike. For someone who doesn't cry, I've been doing a whole lotta crying. But amazingly enough, I also managed to laugh and smile today. Not a lot, but it's a start.

I went to yoga last night. And, as is always (always!) the way with yoga, the class was exactly what I needed. The instructor was subbing for the regular teacher because he was celebrating Rosh Hashanah. Apparently in addition to the Jewish New Year, yesterday was the Ethiopian New Year - and it just happened to be the Ethiopian New Millenium. And so she started a medition on clearing away the old, that which does not serve, and making room for the new. That every moment, every breathe we take, we are new people. And there, in the middle of class - in the middle of downward facing dog - I started crying. Again. But this time they were really good, cleansing tears. And somehow, in the midst of all this pain and heartache, I felt somehow lighter, freer.

Now, I'm not saying that any of this has been easy. But I do think it's a chance for a new lease on life, to be cliche (yes, that's cliche, not clique, Napolean). Which is only highlighted by my whole Door. Window. Revelation.

It looks like I might get the job I'm up for. They called wondering about salary ranges and positions and the like. Nothing definite but I was told they were "putting things together." Hmmm. A chance to be in a truly creative job. A chance to work with people I like, admire, and respect. A chance to work and live on the North Shore, moments away from beaches and trees. You can see that this would clearly be a miserable decision.

Of course, all of this was temporarily forgotten when I got home tonight and found a check in the mail from Mr. Zips. I had asked him to mail me his half of the Maine trip cost. He mailed the whole thing. With no note. Nothing. Not even in the memo line. I didn't want the whole thing - we agreed to split it. Here's how this makes me feel:

I feel like he's used me for free room and board for months. And now that he doesn't need the extra money (since the wedding is over) he can kick me to the curb. I know this isn't a fair (or, likely, very accurate) assessment, but there it is. So, to make himself feel less guilty, he sends me the whole amount. Does this make him feel better? It doesn't make me feel better. I don't need your pity money. I don't care how guilty you feel. I offered love, caring and what (for me) amounted to commitment. $225 doesn't make that go away.

Of course I know that the whole relationship and breakup is far, far more complex than that. Oh what a tangled web. But, tonight, coming home from Day One of life in the world without Mr. Zips, that's how I feel. For better or worse.

But life must go on. So, today, I booked a weekend trip to DC. Many people know why going before would have been a questionable if not downright poor decision. But right now I need to get out of the apartment, I need to be told I'm loved, and I need to not feel guilty about doing a shot or 12 of Jamesons.

And one final note. Thank Heaven and all the Powers and Beings in it, for friends. They are wonderful. I would not be half as sane as I am right now, without them. I love you. All of you.

Misery

Ironically, enough, the title of the first movie I ever saw with my first boyfriend.

Question: Exactly how bad for your karma is suicide?

I ask it for purely rhetorical reasons of course. Mostly.

I Am Sad

This post was going to be all about how - although I was having a tough case of The Reds (and if you don't know what that means you should watch Breakfast at Tiffany's), there was a bright spot in the lovely woman at Rebecca's Cafe who knew that I wanted a Veggie Soup To Go and cashed me out before I even waited in line. It was meant to be a meditation on my predictability, my need for days and moments to be planned.

Instead, it is this.

Mr. Zips and I broke up. For the last time.

Because even if either one of us tries to reconcile, I just don't think it's going to take.

The reality is this: I understand that being together doesn't mean mean being fused at the hip. And what he's finally realizing is that being together means two individuals - who aren't fused at the hip - living independently and living supportive lives.

Up until now he's felt we need to be fused at the hip. Since the Minneapolis wedding, he's felt that he needs to be his own person, take care of himself. What he doesn't seem to understand is that these aren't necessarily mutually exclusive.

Of course, if he were a decent human being, he would have mentioned this to me without having me to force the issue. Heck, he would have mentioned it before Minneapolis. But at the very leat he would have mentioned it before I, psychic though I am, picked up on it and had to hand him his razor and shampoo and tell him to leave.

The shithead in me wants to call Army Boy and BBB and arrange for some comfort duty. I won't. Yet.

I feel like shit. I hope that my job won't suspect too much when I inevitably call in sick from work tomorrow. Because I've been crying for hours and am days away from sleep.

I'm trying my yogini best to see the lesson that The Universe is offering me. But right now I just need more bourbon.

I Am Ridiculously Cute

It's been a bi-polar day. Some really amazing news (apparently the interview went much better than I thought) some really irratating news (two peeps leaving writing groups and being very mysterious as to reasons why. Woman who's story was reviewed this week (me!) is paranoid... )

So, it's been mood swings galore.

Still, I got home to this:

Is she the epitome of adorableness or what? Just makes me so sad that I've had to leave her alone so much these past few weeks. Of course, she's let me know how angry she is - it's like missing the litter is an Olympic Sport and she's in training....

Good thing Momma loves her Kitty.

Am I Good Enough? Smart Enough? Do People Like Me?

I went on a job interview today - with a well-known and well-respected agency north of Boston. I have no idea how it went. When I interview - especially with so many smart and talented people, all the damn insecurities creep out. So, I wind up clamming up, getting nervous, and basically turning into Freakazoid. And then I get to my car and realize all the things I shoulda woulda said.

I was much more relaxed and had a much better meeting with the second person I met. Unfortunately, he's not the hiring manager. Still, he does influence the hiring manager, so there's that. Plus, I have two folks on the inside that I like and respect on this inside rooting for me.

Here's the thing - and I know this is premature. If I get this gig, my whole life would change. Goodbye leaving early to catch the yoga class w/ the awesome teacher. Goodbye being able to goof off a fair amount b/c there's no one in the office to tell. Of course, there's also the fact that it would allow my creativity to flourish, would pay better, wouldn't involve Napolean, and could even (theoretically) support a move to Salem or Gloucester.

So, I've got lots of thinking to do if - and that's a big IF - I land this gig...

In other news, I went to yoga tonight, to calm down, so to speak. Afterwards, I noticed a fellow student getting into a car with an Anusara bumper sticker. So we start chatting and it sounds like she's connected in with other local Anusarians. Instant kula! She gave me her email and I'm gonna send her a mail tomorrow. Maybe, just maybe, finally some friends....

So with that, I'm gonna stop shoulding all over myself, Stuart Smalley.