Random Grumblings on a Rainy Morning

I stopped at the store last night to get a couple of things. They had Barbie dolls on sale out front. I was walking by and looking at them and I remembered a couple of things I hadn't thought about in years. When I was a little girl, Barbies were all the rage. Girls brought them to school to play with at recess. Whoever had the most Barbies and the best clothes and so forth was the coolest of the day. In the game, Barbie was always married to Ken. For some reason this was the way things were 'supposed' to be. Now, I never played with the girls at school. But when I was home, I had about 3 barbies. Barbie, Ken, and Barbie's best friend, whose name I can't remember. In my game, Barbie and Ken were still married, because that was again the way things were supposed to be. But Ken was a truck driver and always on the road, so Barbie lived with and spent all her time with her best friend. The other thing I remembered was back in Kindergarten I got in trouble because I didn't like to play house the way we had to. Yes, we had to play house. The point was to teach us about family, societal, and gender roles. A few kids were chosen to be children each time, and the others were divided into Mommies and Daddies. I refused to be Mommy. Why? Two reasons. One was that Daddy got to go to work (which meant play with the trucks and legos and such) while Mommy had to stay in the pretend house and cook, clean, and play with the children. Who wants to do that? And the main reason I wanted to be Daddy was because I'd get to be married to a Mommy! I told my teacher this and her jaw dropped. She called my parents.I think the only person surprised by me being gay was me. :)


On another note, what is wrong with some people? A couple who lives in my subdivison was running radar on the road outside it yesterday. He'd pulled over one of our other neighbors. Nothing to build community like giving your neighbors speeding tickets. Then again, this particular cop is one swastika patch shy of full memebership in the Neo-Nazi party. Then I got into my subdivision and a little girl was playing with a ball in her yard. She threw it too hard and it rolled out into the road. Nothing wrong with that; it happens all the time. I stopped the car of course; well, the ball started rolling downhill and lodged under the front end of my car. So I put the car in park, got out, and pulled the ball out and tossed it to the little girl. Meanwhile, two more drivers had come up behind me and were honking their horns and cussing me. One started to go around, and stopped when I walked into the other side of the road to toss the ball.People. Can't live without 'em, but sometimes you'd like to.This morning it was pouring down rain. Princess loves all water except bathwater. Tiny doesn't mind baths but hates all other water. So Princess was playing in the rain and Tiny was refusing to go to the bathroom. I had to haul him in and out three times before he finally went. When we came back in the last time we were both soaked. My oldest cat was sitting on the table and gave me a look that clearly said: What do you expect, dumb ass? This is what happens when you bring a dog into the house.

Playful Today

So cool, I'm really playful today. This is really weird, lol. I'm almost 23 years old. I can't be playing! I mean I'm playful like I was imaginary sword-fighting with the duster earlier. And I have the craziest impulse to go 'kidnap' Robbie from class and drag him out to mini golf. Or something. This is frickin' weird. But...okay. Better than being so depressed I can't stop crying my eyes out. Me and my dysthymia.It seems to be a little better this week -otherwise how could I feel this way?Anyway, I'm off to do housework and play in the sun.
Peace out!

Bad Mood

So we had a tornado sandwich here last night. I had three tornados pass a few miles to the north, and two a few miles to the south. The closest one came real near the other side of my mountain. Like a mile near. If it had came a bit closer it would almost certainly have taken out my church, then lifted over the mountain and sat down right in my subdivision. And probably taken out both my house and the house of the other UU family down the street. Sure, and plenty of others too, but I can just imagine what the evangelicals here in town would make of that when it got round to them! Repent ye sinners, for the Lord has judged you!

There wasn’t much damage, except for the torrential rainfall caused water to seep into the baseboards and into my bathroom and walk-in closet. I will be having a conversation with the builder Monday morning. The whole house is still under warranty so he has to fix it. This morning I went out to check the property and discovered that one of my rosebushes has not one, not even two, but at least half a dozen buds on it! It’s not supposed to bloom for another year. I’ll see if it does or if these are false starts.

Of course, it was still overcast today and it turned cold again, which does NOT help my dysthymia. I’m rather proud of myself on the spending front though. All I got this weekend that I didn’t absolutely have to have was film for my camera, an extra dozen eggs, and one of those egg coloring sets. I’m going to color eggs for the kids at church to hunt next weekend. And I got a new lawn mower. I rationalized this because a) the lawn has to be mowed, b) the old one is broken and fixing it would cost more than the new mower and c) it’s cheaper to buy a mower than to pay someone to do it. This is a better mower anyway, much more sustainable. Not to mention cheap! It’s the old push mower type.

As usual, my own plans for this weekend are housecleaning and watching a movie. The last night I had someplace to go on Saturday night that wasn’t a church function was to my best friend’s 50th birthday party. In October. Quite obviously, I have no life. So here I am, sitting here Saturday night with nothing to do and completely, utterly depressed. Big surprise there on the depression. I am dysthymic after all. Having dysthymia is a lot like being locking in a glass house away from the world but observing everything. You keep trying to find the way out and instead end up getting discouraged because what’s the point? This, accompanied by nearly constant cynicism and depression. It limits my career choices; I want to go into the people helping professions but I have to be careful what I pick. Not social work (though that’s ruled out by being gay anyway), and not a therapist. Like the old joke goes, the only thing worse than a dysthymic shrink is a dysthymic preacher. So social work and psych are out, that pretty much leaves sociology. Becoming an academic. Oh well. It’s better than engineering. Or I could stay in engineering and go into civil and build roads. Only I don’t want to do that either.

In a way being dysthymic is an advantage. I’ll never a partner or family, and despite the advantages of that there are downsides I’ll never have to deal with. I’ll never have to figure out dating, or the whole couple thing, try to figure out a relationship or get married, never have to deal with in-laws, never have to worry about kids. And when I fall I know upfront that I’m going to get my heartbroken. Which is a sight better than the anxiety I’ve seen others go through! I may joke about wanting to date but I know better. I couldn’t function in that kind of relationship, and it wouldn’t be right to ask someone else to put up with my constant sourness. So that will always remain an unattainable dream, unless a miracle should happen and my dysthymia should go away. Right.
And I think I need a drink.

Spring is Finally Here

Spring is here at last. The entire world is in bloom. At least my hemisphere, at any rate. Yesterday the trees in my backyard were mostly barren, covered only with a thousand tiny buds that would soon be leaves. Overnight they opened, and when I stepped out onto my patio this morning I was greeted by the sight of those beautiful young leaves, so green and new against the old, brown bark of the trees that had worked so hard to birth them. A thresh sat on one limb of my tallest tree, trilling its song to the dawn sun that was slowly rising behind my house. Its mate answered the call from above, where she was circling in the clear blue sky. They are building a nest in that tree. Soon I will have little baby birds chirping outside my bedroom. I am certain I will be quite annoyed with this development at six am on Saturday mornings, but I am overjoyed that of all the yards in my neighborhood, they have chosen mine in which to raise their family.

The roses in my front yard are thriving. One has grown several inches since I planted them only a few weeks ago. My pansies, snapdragons, and marigolds are in full bloom. I thought I had lost all of the impatiens in the cold snap last week, but wonder of wonders, one of them is slowly starting to recover. My dogs don’t know quite what to make of all these developments. At this time last year Tiny was not yet born and Princess was still new to this world, her eyes not even open. So this is their first real spring. It is an utter joy to watch them delight in something as simple as the first green blades of grass poking through the faded brown of last years final growth.

I too am changing as the days grow longer and warmer. Spring is the time of birth, or growth, and of renewal. I can feel all the new life entering the world and it gives me the first hope I’ve had in months. Winter is necessary. Aye, for life can not exist without periods of rest, and in the end the death that must come to all. But I dislike the starkness, the barrenness of it, and the sorrow that death must exist at all. Yet, where would we be without it? Life is precious only because of our mortality. If we were to live forever, what worth would one laugh, one kiss, one love hold? Because we must die, and because that death could come knocking at any moment, each of these is made precious to us. For we know that someday they –and we –shall be gone. And all that shall be left behind are memories of what was, and the love that was given.

Strange, to be thinking of Death at this time of Life new-born. But the two are forever entwined. I have spent the past couple of years seeking. I thought that I knew the path I would take in life. God and Fate had other ideas. I have spent the time since seeking my road, and the meaning of it all. Last night I dove down into the darkness, into all the pain and the suffering I have undergone. Today I am looking at the lighter side of things, of love and hope and joy. Once upon a time I lost God, only to find her in the veins of a leaf on an autumn day. And again in the eyes of a puppy who desperately needed a home, and who laid down on my feet at a street festival and refused to move. And has been both my biggest source of both joy and consternation ever since.

I have been lost for so long that I have no idea what it would feel like to be found. My previous anchoring was unsteady, one based on arrogance and pride. Both the natural results of being a teenager and having to shield oneself from the harsh reality of an unsafe world merely to survive. And when I found myself in a world where I no longer had to continually fight for survival, the dam that held back the swollen river of emotions from flooding my soul broke and I was swept out to sea. Ever since I have been lost there.

But slowly over the past few years guideposts have been emerging from the darkness. UU, my friends, the over-active lab puppy so eager to get her food in the morning she accidentally knocks me over and scatters it as often as not. I may not yet know who and what I am, but I have a clear sense now of my beliefs and my values.

And I think that maybe, just maybe, I am starting to gain a small glimmer of the meaning of Life. Or at least, the meaning of my life. And it’s nothing like what I was taught to believe or expected. It’s not about success, or money, or one-upmanship, not how many friends one has or how much, not achieving dreams or goals, not about being liked or earning points towards getting into heaven. And I may have learned it from my dogs.

I think that life just may be about one thing and one thing only: Love. Giving as much of it as you can to everything you can. Family, friends, neighbors, pets, even the Earth itself. This is how my dogs live. They don’t know fear, or anger, or jealousy, or hurt. All they know is love. Slowly I’m beginning to think that maybe that is why we are here as well. To love as much as possible. Even if no ever loves you in return, and if that love is never recognized by anyone. And despite all the trials and tribulations that go along with being alive.

Maybe this is right and maybe it’s wrong. But it’s the only meaning I’ve ever stumbled across that makes any sense to me at all. This revelation came to me while I was eating lunch, of all things. I still have no idea who or what I really am. And even the answer to this may change.

But it’s a start. And in the meantime, the sun is shining and spring is here. What more could I ask for?

Seeking in the Dark

Seeking in the Dark

I was born
In the dark
No light to guide
A crooked path
No hand to hold
Clinging only to Hope
Crawling on hands and knees
Reaching for Light
That wasn’t there
Longing for an exit

There are only three universal truths for all members of humanity. We are born, we all will die, and in between we will know both joy and suffering. How much of each of these emotions each one of us shall experience is partialed out unequally. Some will have mostly joy, and some mostly suffering. And some shall know equal amounts of each.

But why? What is the purpose behind it all? Or is there one? Why do we live, why do we die, and what are we anyway? As Rev. Forrest Church said, if there is a meaning to life, then it must be universally accessible. Every person must be able to find out if they try hard enough.

Maybe the meaning of life is different for each person and that’s what makes it so hard to find. I am certainly still seeking that meaning. And it is nowhere in sight. I still have not adequately answered the relatively simple questions of who and what am I, much less made any headway on the hardest question of all!

Wearing this eyepatch the past couple of days has really made me think. With only half my vision, my normal clumsiness has gotten even worse and I’ve managed to bump into doors, hit my head on the mailbox, and half a dozen other things just from not being able to see out of both eyes. Yet, I tend to have about half that many accidents when I have the use of both eyes. So even then I don’t see anything.

How much does anyone really see? Not just everyday objects. I mean everything. Reality. God. The universe. I think we are all seeking in the dark. For the truth, for the Light, for what’s right and wrong. Some of us see more than others I’m sure. And I’m also certain there are those among us who are completely blind. And we all descend into darkness at some point or other in our lives. As Etheridge said ‘there comes a time we all know, there’s a place we must go, into the soul, into the heart, into the dark.’

I’m listening to that song now as I write this. It reminds me so much of my life up to this point. I was born in the dark, and have spent my whole life looking for a way out of it. The real me was hidden away for many many years as I fought to survive. ‘I’ve been here…sleeping all these years.’ It wasn’t safe for me to be who I am all that time. It wasn’t safe for me to be anybody, just a barely functioning robot struggling only for survival. And longing for escape.

There’s a question that haunts me sometimes. Who would I be if things had been different? I have part of the answer now I think. Sometimes when I look in the mirror I see her, not as my reflection but deep inside it. A confident, charming, and yes sexy young woman who knows who and what she is and is comfortable with the world and herself. Who doesn’t carry around the pain and the burdens that I do. She is not weary of the world and its ills. She has never experienced them. She is me and yet not me…she is the me that might have been. I can never be that young woman, but I can someday be something like her. Only tempered by the pains of care and refined by the burden of all the suffering I have seen and experienced. She is steel unforged; I am steel that has been hardened and tempered by the heat of the fire and is slowly being honed into a fine blade. I went through Hell after all, and survived. There’s something to be said for that.

Why? What is the reason for everything? Is there one? There has to be. I can no more imagine a meaningless universe than I can imagine there not being a God. Though at one point, I had no faith in Her. I could not reconcile what I had been through Then I matured enough to realize that God had nothing to do with it. I am still no closer to my answer of why. But at least –at least I am certain that there is a reason. That is more than could be said for the lost, lonely, aching 16 year old I once was. Seven years later I am not quite as lost or lonely as I was then, and am not in nearly as much pain. I am still in pain, and still have some healing to do, but I have come very, very far.

My path has not been easy. It has been broken, twisted, and winding. There have been no markers to mark the way and many obstacles have had to be overcome. And all of it in complete darkness. Only the hope of one day finding the Light has kept me going. I look at others my age and I don’t understand them. I am both older and younger than them in ways that are hard to explain. And just plain different. They have done things I never have and may never do –they have been in relationships, they’ve had families, some are married and have their own kids, they have been places and seen things I never have. I don’t get their jokes, their clothing, their music, or their behavior. And they don’t get me either. Most don’t understand how I can be so dour, so set apart, so …old. And I don’t see how they can be so care free and so young. They puzzle me. They’ve never been abused, much less to the extent that I was. They’ve never been homeless. They haven’t ever been without a decent meal, much less been hungry enough to eat out of the trash! None of them have ever seen blood spilt or watched another person die. They haven’t ever had to deal with the trauma I’ve undergone. Unlike them I have never known a loving family or any love in general. But I survived. Will I ever figure them out? I hope so. I just have to finish figuring myself out first.

In the past few years I have healed enough to slowly begin to see the Light. It has been a long, hard, and difficult task. And one that is not yet completed. Lately I have been descending back into the dark deliberately –down into the depths of my soul, where that little girl I once was still hides in terror. I have done so in order to find her and coach her towards the light above. One slow, small step at a time. Facing my past is not easy. There are parts of it I may never be able to look at directly. But facing it is necessary for me to grow and heal as a person. I am not a normal person, but I am human. Very, very human.

Where am I going with this? I’m not certain. Any more than I’m certain of where I’m going in life. I guess I’m taking stock of where I’ve been, where I’m at, and trying to figure out where to go from here. I’ve come so far in the past five years alone. Since coming of age I’ve admitted and even become proud of being gay, gotten my engineering degree, bought a house, found UU, and developed the first real friends I’ve ever had. I’ve even fallen in love twice, and gotten severely burned both times because both girls wanted nothing to do with me. I’ve even become quite the leader, which is still a surprise to me when I wake up and realize it. Sometimes I turn around and go wtf? What happened? It seems like just yesterday I was sitting in my first college class trying to remember to breathe. The first person in my family to make it to college –all that pressure!

When I started college I chose my major based on three things. What I would make, if I could do it –and whether or not I would have to do a lot of work with people. I wanted to make a lot of money, I could do anything I sat my mind to and knew it, and I wanted to avoid people as much as possible. I didn’t understand them and all they ever caused me was pain. So I walked the halls of first chemistry and then engineering for these reasons. The classes were easy. They rarely challenged me. But then, very little ever has. Even quantum physics was a breeze. Somewhere along the way something I changed. I discovered my favorite subjects weren’t the math and physics I spent so much time studying. They were psychology and sociology, philosophy and religion, English and poetry, history and cultures. But you couldn’t make any money in those fields. And, more importantly, they were people fields.

Somewhere in there I started to like people. I developed a deep need to connect with others. As my wounds began to heal I developed an intense need to be around humans. The inherent social tendencies of all apes, suppressed so long inside me for survival, began to emerge. At first I filled these needs by getting out and about. Spending an hour in Wal-mart surrounded by people was enough at first. But gradually I needed more. So I began to reach out, slowly at first. And I screwed up terribly. And more than once. I was like a child just learning to crawl or to walk. In some ways I often still am. I got involved in activities more and more. As I became more comfortable I was able to open up and even express opinions. Then when I started to notice things that need to be done I would step in and take charge and do them. By my last year in college I was serving as an officer in three different organizations. Two of them were service organizations.

I developed an intense need to and a liking for helping others. More and more over the past several years I have found myself involved directly in work to benefit others. Always unpaid and usually unnoticed. It’s become a driving force in my life, a passion unrivaled by anything else.

Last year I finished college and started working full time. I had done so part time before that of course, but always in different types of settings. Suddenly I found myself locked away in all-grey environments under fluorescent lighting and with virtually no human contact. And no windows anywhere. I’m lucky to see the sunshine twenty minutes each day on my way to and from work. And the work I’m doing isn’t nice; I work on missiles for the military, tapping on a computer all day. I can’t find a different sort of job in my industry. My new job has a better environment and better pay, but it’s basically the same sort of thing.

I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life. Or even another year. I have to do it that long –bills. But then I want to change. To what? I don’t know precisely. Yet. I want to dedicate my life to helping others. That much I know for certain. I know it in my bones the same way I know the sun will rise tomorrow. The how and the way still needs to be worked out. I don’t care so much for money anymore, as long as I make enough to pay the bills. I just …want to help.

So I’m seeking. In the dark, as always. Not on my hands and knees anymore. But stumbling forward cautiously, hoping not to fall off a precipice. I’m still healing from all that was done to me, and dealing with the chronic health problems I now have. I’ve healed enough to develop relationships with others, to take my first tentative steps into the world. Even to fall in love. Not once, but twice. A street rat in love –Aladdin without the genie. I’ve made my peace with the God I once ceased to believe in. And even to find a religion that accepts me for who I am and doesn’t persecute me. Hell, I’ve actually become an opinionated, annoying little so and so at times.

And I’ve started looking for the answers to the big question. Why, what, how. Life. The universe and everything. And I know the answer is far more than and yet as simple as 42. I’m made my peace with God, and she and my spirituality have become central to my life. But I’m at a crossroads once again –and as always, seeking in the dark.

Politics and Other Matters

Another day in the life. The morning was hectic as usual. All three cats are still sick with the kennel cough, and my puppy ripped out his suture last night. It’s all right, and the vet said just to keep and eye on it and bring him in if it tries to reopen or anything. Princess was her normal overactive self, knocking me over while I was trying to put her morning food out. I keep hoping she’ll settle down one of these days, but somehow I don’t see that happening.

I was watching the news this morning. Bad idea, I know. But sometimes I just can’t help it. Yesterday what’s his name was found eligible for the death penalty. Does this surprise anyone? I doubt it, unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past couple of months. Especially after that show he put on last week. I think this is ridiculous though. Not because of any problem with the death penalty. Unlike most UUs, I’m actually pro-death penalty. There are a lot of reasons for that, and I won’t get into them here. But where this case is concerned, it’s flat out ridiculous. He wants to die. If he dies, he becomes a martyr for the terrorism movement. That’s all need to do –give them another martyr. Right. Send him off to do hard labor for the rest of his life. He deserves it. But don’t kill him.

Then there was Mister Tom Delay. He’s resigning from Congress and has announced that he won’t run again. He claims this is because of the Democrats. Wait a minute –he’s been indicted on money laundering charges, but his resignation from Congress is the other party’s fault? Riggghhhhhhtttt. And a pig just flew past my non-existent office window. Sorry, I’m going to have to throw the bullshit flag down on this one. Get a life, Mr. Delay. And learn to own up for your own mistakes.

In other areas, one of my best friends operation to determine whether or not she has ovarian cancer is two weeks from tomorrow. I’m nervous and a little terrified. She’s the first and best friend I have ever had. To me she is family. And I can’t stand the thought of any one else I care for having cancer. I think about it and get a lump in my throat. She’ll be okay, I’m sure, but I am still worried about her.

Random Thoughts on Monday Morning

Being a short-timer here at work, I have nothing to do, so I thought I’d update this blog with a long post. Last night I was getting ready for bed, and taking care of my ‘kids’. All five of them. I had to kiss each of them good night and tell them I loved them. And right before I laid down (just like right before I leave to go anywhere) I had to do the Cat Count: make sure I could find each of the cats, so I knew they weren’t locked in a closet or my office or anything. With my cats that happens on a regular basis. The same cat got locked into the laundry room yesterday morning and my office yesterday evening. Anyway, I was doing all this, and suddenly the thought struck me: I won’t always have them. Someday, they will all be gone. I may have new ones by then, but these will be gone. And suddenly I couldn’t breathe. For a long moment I stood there, overwhelmed by the emotions raging inside my heart. Then I did the only thing I could do: I found each of them, and in turn held them and kissed them and generally made sure they knew how much I loved them. I slept a whole lot better because of that.

This morning I had to keep reminding myself how much I loved them –because they all, every single one of them, caused some kind of trouble while I was trying to get ready for work. And this was on top of the Comedy of Errors that played out this morning. It’s not funny, but it is. I went to put my contacts in when I got up at six. Somehow, I put the right one in backwards. And it had a tear in it that I didn’t notice. Of course, I went to take it out right away. And couldn’t. It was stuck. I tried and tried, and couldn’t get it out. So eventually I had to go on and finish feeding the pets, letting them out to potty, etc etc. All while furiously blinking one eye and unable to see out of it at all. I kept stopping to try and get the dratted contact out, and couldn’t. Somewhere in all the chaos, between tripping over the cat who wouldn’t get out from underfoot, chasing down my poodle to give him his meds, and all the other chaos of early morning, the contact fell out on its own. And I didn’t realize it. So I kept trying to get it out –and I was tugging on my eye lens! Gradually, it dawned on me that this wasn’t working –and it hurt really bad to boot. So I finally figured it out, and put in another contact. And made it to work half an hour late because of it.

Speaking of work, I’m trying to figure out this career thing. Part of me feels like I have to limit my options because of the dysthymia nonsense, and part of me says that shouldn’t matter. I tend to be fine on the weekends –it’s sitting in this all grey environment under fluorescent lighting tapping on a computer and isolated from people all week that gets to me. I can’t do this for the rest of my life. Yeah, I’m changing jobs, but the work there is along the same lines. The biggest differences are the pay, the location, and the fact that they have some windows there. I’ve done the calculations, and without a miracle I’m going to be doing this sort of thing for the next five years. That’s how long it will take me to pay off all my and finish school for something else. Assuming I figure out pretty quickly what it is I want to do, and convince myself that I can do it. So I’m looking at another five years of not wanting to get up in the morning and hating my job. Five years. I’m not sure I can stand this line of work for that long.

And then there’s what do I want to do? I want to be in some kind of work where I can work with and help people. But I don’t know what. And I’m not sure how my ongoing battle should affect my choices. I know the majority of my problems are caused by my current work environment –but how much? And how well could I tolerate being around people 24/7? I don’t know the answer. I grew up so isolated and was so abused that I just don’t have the tools and the skills normal folks do!

And of course there’s love. Sigh. How many more times do I have to get my heart broken before I learn my lesson? Probably a lot more. I still won’t have gotten so much as a date by the end of it! I’m getting to the age where I’m just going to have to accept the fact that it isn’t going to happen for me. Not without a miracle at any rate. I could look for it, but the odds of finding it are about the same as if I don’t. Virtually zero. If I could turn that part of my brain off, I would. Just to avoid the pain that comes from longing so much! Sigh. There were three women at church yesterday that I am absurdly attracted to. One’s straight and the other two just aren’t interested or are a bit too old for me. And they all had to sit in front of me where I couldn’t help but see all three all through the service. Aaagggghhhhh. Maybe I should just join a community of monks. It would solve a whole set of my problems if I never had to see another attractive woman!

A Busy Saturday

I’ve had a fairly good day so far. The weather is lovely here, really beautiful, so I’ve spent lots of time out in the sun. That really helps –especially after being under fluorescent glare all week long! I am certain my job has something to do with my depression. Until I was transferred out to this site I was doing much better. The awful environment, plus the fact that I hate the work, with the addition of much idle time to boot, I think has all combined to make it worse. (Not too mention the isolation.) I am so much better on the weekends than during the week that I have to look at the job as a cause. And the past couple of weeks have been much worse, because my self-esteem has been in the toilet. It involved a girl, of course. Imagine that! I thought we were friends, and yep, I’d fallen hard for her, but she made it clear she didn’t want to be so much as friends with me after all. So my self-esteem tanked and I’ve been in an episode of major depression for about two weeks, on top of my normal dysthymia.

This has been a busy day so far. I got up an ungodly hour for Saturday morning and went to Ms. Maitland’s memorial service. I didn’t really know her (I met her once) but she was a good person. 78, and everyone was talking about how they wish she’d been older. I’m like 78???? That is old! To me, at least. But then, my grandmother was 52 when she died and neither of my parents made it to fifty. So to me, 78 is a good long life. God grant me that I live that long. And when I’m gone, they can throw a party for all I care. As long as it’s in a UU church, and none of my blood kin are allowed to attend I’ll be happy wherever I may be. The service was lovely. My minister was excellent as always. I got there early because Eleanor needed help in the kitchens with the food, and stayed late help clean up. And I’ll be back there in a couple of hours for the benefit concert tonight. After I left I picked up my puppy at the vet. He’s doing great –running around like nothing happened. We took a nap together and I’m about to go out into the yard to do some work.

Like I said, a busy day.