Print Story -Hello.
Diary
By toxicfur (Mon Mar 03, 2008 at 08:50:57 PM EST) (all tags)
-Hi, toxicfur. How are you getting along?
-90% of the time, I'm really fucking shitty.
-Oh. Er.
-No, that's an improvement. Really. Have a great day.

That's the conversation I wish I could have. Instead, I watch the tilt of the head, and I know the speaker is feeling empathy or at least making an effort to pretend, and I say that I'm fine, or I'm doing okay, or I'm hanging in there, or some other such platitude. People rarely want an authentic answer when they say, "How are you, really?" Sometimes, I forget and answer a little too honestly, and the discomfort is palpable.



The day started out well enough. I followed along as best I could to the workout DVD that came with my office-holiday-party-yankee-swap-gift exercise ball. The workout is awesome, and I actually feel energized and relaxed after I finish (though my muscles always ache a bit the next day -- it's a real workout). As I was doing some of the floor exercises, though, Rusti became concerned. After licking my nose, she dashed off and returned with one of her stuffed toys, which she dropped on my chest. Then she wagged her tail and, her duty done, curled back up on her blanket.

After the workout, I felt really good -- I was prepared to actually accomplish stuff on my to-do list.

My to-do list (courtesy of iGoogle):

  • Write vet's Christmas card [ed: It's going to turn into a thank-you card that I must write and send soon.]
  • Call therapist
  • Email massage therapist
  • Call physical therapist
  • Figure out voicemail shit
  • Get ana's car inspected
  • Clean

I got ana's car inspected. None of those things are particularly time-consuming. Three of them will significantly improve how I feel. The anxiety I feel when I try to actually make the calls (or send the email) is damn near overwhelming. So instead, I spent a bit of time working, and I played a lot of Zelda on my DS. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I should take an Ativan and pick up the fucking phone, already. Maybe I just need to stop being a fucking baby and just get shit done.


I've been getting a lot more exercise. Overall, this has been an extremely positive thing. One of the things on the bottom of my to-do list is to call the dog walker my neighbor uses. Instead, though, I've been walking my dogs a little more than a mile a day (I should start increasing the distance, I think). We walk at a brisk pace, and even when it's cold, they seem to enjoy it, and Rust's very cute in her little squall jacket.

I've been working very hard at convincing the dogs to heel. Pulling on the end of the leash is just not acceptable, especially since Rocky is a very strong 65 pound dog. Yes, he enjoys dragging his people down the street, but it's a) not good at reinforcing his position in the pack; and b) it's kind of dangerous to have him only barely in my control.

Tonight, my hand is bloody and missing some significant bits of skin because of the dogs. I was bending over to pick up after Rusti, and a dog I hadn't noticed (inside a fence), rushed the fence at Rocky. Rocky was sitting closest to the fence. Rusti was refusing to sit nearest the street. Rocky took off toward the street; Rusti took off toward the dog, and I was caught in the middle, dragged down, and badly skinning my hand. We finished the walk, and I came back to wash myself up.

On a positive note, Rocky knew he screwed up -- he walked a half-step behind me for the rest of the trip. On a less-positive note, Rusti had no idea that she'd done anything wrong. She's never had to walk on a leash before, and certainly never been trained to heel. We have a lot of work to do still.


I broke one of my plates tonight. Just dropped it. Fortunately, it only has a small amount of sentimental value -- it was one of the Pier One plates I bought for myself after my ex and I split up. I bought 8 of them in 1999 or early 2000. I now have 3.
I'm not sleeping well. I dream vividly, and I wake up often. I've tried to cut out caffeine after 2:00, but it's only been moderately successful. I also need to cut back on the amount of beer/wine I drink before bed. One step at a time, though, I think.
I'm so* tired of winter. I'm tired of the snow and the slush and the cold. I hate feeling claustrophobic in my clothing. I've stopped wearing scarf, hat, and gloves except when it's below 25 because I feel like I can't move. I really want spring to come. I see a couple of snow crocuses starting to sprout, but until they're finished blooming and the daffodils start, I won't let myself believe that spring is coming.
I worry. I worry about how things are going in North Carolina. I worry that I pissed off my aunt when I made a snarky comment to her about getting documents she needs. I worry that my brothers aren't ever going to actually get their things out of my mom's house. I worry that my niece won't know who I am, not really. I worry that I'm not giving my marriage the attention it deserves (meaning, I feel like I'm being very distant and I've apologized, but I really don't know what to do about it, except to apologize and to hug ana when I remember and to talk when I find words). I worry that I'm getting totally burned out on my job, and that I'm doing a bad job and I'm letting things fall through the cracks. I worry that I'm isolating myself from friends who care because I don't know how to talk to them.

I just worry. Also, my hand hurts.


*I originally left out the 'm, so the sentence read "I so tired," and it reminded me -- I owe two husi people thank-yous as well. Thank you to misslake for the expanding toy cabbage with the Chinglish instructions (Expand to 600% of size!). It made me smile. :-) And thank you to pasofol for the lollipops. They're really tasty -- my office-mates think so as well.

Full discussion: http://www.hulver.com/scoop/story/2008/3/3/205057/0056