I go to the therapist tomorrow. I’m most frustrated that I still feel like I need to talk to her, even though it’s been a week.
All the bad shit is over. Why do I still feel so shaky and anxious?
Never mind that the bad shit started in November and just now ended. I want to bounce back immediately. And yet, here I am, still being a doofus.
My goal is to return to Phoenix as a tourist, instead of a chaperone for two angry toddlers in 75 year old bodies.
It was not the worst, but easily in the bottom three quarters of the worst.
But I took my nephew–who now calls me Aunt Beppi–to the playground and there was an orange tree. I reached up and scratched my arm all up, because I didn’t know orange trees had thorns.
But that orange was the best orange I ever ate.
A little while ago we had a meeting with some people who weren’t on their best behavior. I thought it would be nice to have a necklace that conveyed a level of hostility that I could wear in future meetings with them.
I bought some barbed wire.
Also, let’s try not to notice that I’m “crepe paper neck” years old now.
Yesterday was objectively really good. In here, it was a disaster. I cried at my desk for a while. Then I went home early. Some other shit that’s going to be embarrassing today went down.
My goal was to be unconscious as quickly as possible. But I also walked the dog and answered work emails and sent reassuring texts to my coworkers so that no one would be inconvenienced by my losing my damn mind. Then I made sure I had a little something to eat, even though I wasn’t hungry. And I took my medicine. Then I tried to self-destruct, but I got tired and went to bed instead. But apparently I also set an alarm so I’d get up and let the dog out before our normal bedtime.
And this morning, I found a large glass of water on the sink that I must have left for myself.
I don’t know what to make of the fact that I have this inner responsible dorky sweetheart who doesn’t want me to suffer. I don’t know where or when I developed a part of me that is sweet to myself, but here she is.
Anyway, I made the therapy appointment. I got that done, too. At least. The Wednesday after I get back from Phoenix.
Half the rows are complete! I either need 18 or 28 hexagons to finish. I think 28, because I don’t want to have the top be a long row and the bottom be a short row. I think I want two long rows.
God, I love this so much.
I sent an email to S. last night telling her that, if she doesn’t hear from me that I have a therapist’s appointment scheduled by the time I get back from Phoenix I need her to force me to do it.
Things at work are really great. My job is kind of morphing into my dream job. I still cried last night for reasons I can’t really articulate.
I’m so angry. And I’m kind of angry that this is my life. Like, I feel this kind of outrage that my coworkers are lovely and I like the shit out of them. I’m super pissed that I’m supposed to now go do this stuff I love to do.
It makes me feel insane. Things I know, objectively, I should be excited about and delighted by instead make me feel mad and over-burdened.
Which, truly, is why I need to be back in therapy.
I mean, y’all, I sent S. an email asking her to help me get this done. She sent me back an email saying “Yes, I will do this for you. Here’s my plan for how to get it done” and my very first thought was “Hey, back off. You don’t tell me what to do.” I didn’t write that to her, because I caught that it was a nuts response. But now I’m snapping at help I asked for?
WTF?
I love this point, where I start to see it come together and I get a feel for how the finished afghan is going to look and I know I’m going to like it.
I’m flying with my folks to Phoenix next week. They haven’t been on a plane since I was a little girl, but now the Butcher lives out there and they want to learn to do it.
So, I told them I’d chaperone them.
I’m not sure if that’s wise or not, but it’s what I’m doing.
I have many favorite parts of this, but I’m completely digging my decision to put colored centers in some of the gray hexagons.
Whew, I don’t think I’ve ever gone that long without blogging for no reason before, but new year, new me, I guess.
I’m kind of thinking I should just start blogging at night instead of trying to cram it in in the morning.
I’m here, anyway. I think I’m okay. I’m kind of enraged that I’m so super awesome and I still feel like shit about myself, which, frankly, is pretty funny.
It’s just like what is all this for if it doesn’t make me happy and it doesn’t impress anyone else? I don’t know.
I need to go back to therapy.
It’s hard to judge, but I think I’m about 3/4 done with the flowers. I’m just going to go until I’m out of colored yarn and then frame my flower pile in grey hexagons.
I’m trying to make a few decisions, though. One, do I want the bulk of the flowers to be in the middle of the afghan, spilling out in every direction–like the middle picture? Or do I want them all at one end and then petering out toward the other end–like the right picture?
And then, do I want the colors to be random or organized by color? AND, if I want them organized by color, doesn’t this mean I need some green flowers?
Tiny Cat Pants 