Category Archives: sad

The Times, They Are’A Changin’


So I got a new job.  Yes, that was fast; faster than I thought it would be anyway.  As soon as I heard I was being laid off, I started applying for administrative jobs in different departments in the university.  The first department that called me back was Nursing.  The interview went very well and I felt an immediate connect to the staff and the department.  I felt pretty confident that I was going to get the job, and they did, in fact, offer me the position two days later.  I am taking a hit on pay, which sucks.  But the bonus is that the job sounds really intriguing and is much more than your typical budget/travel/accounting type of administrative position I expected.  So that’s good. 

The bad?  Well, it turns out I’m having a hard time leaving Social Work.  I was really excited all last weekend for the new opportunity, but the moment I started typing my resignation letter, the tears started pouring and they’ve been pouring intermittently ever since.  I just got out of a conversation with the director of my current department and I started crying right in the middle of it, making me feel extra stupid and dorky.  But I have been here almost eleven years.  I have good friends in this department that I hate knowing I won’t be seeing them on a daily basis, plus I have my work-mom.  Ever had a work-mom?  I highly recommend them.  Mine is exceptionally wise and kind and loving, not to mention super understanding.  She’s one of the best parts about coming to work every day and I will miss her so much.  So I’m having this bizarre mixture of genuine sadness coupled with excitement about my new job.

Aside from that, there are some changes with my personal life.  I’ve been “not-dating” an old friend, but it’s slowly turning into something more and I have a feeling he’ll be around for a while.  I’m happy about that and also scared to death that I’ll do something to screw it up.  My record=not so good.

So it’s all very new and exciting and terrifying and depressing and I don’t actually know what to do with myself.  I’m in the process of cleaning out 10 and 1/2 years of accumulated junk from my desk drawers.  Work-mom keeps cracking up as I exclaim things like “Wow! I forgot I had this!!!” or “Dude.  I was wondering where that was.”  Not to mention crystal light in my bottom drawer that’s probably about ten years old.  That’s not the extent of the grossness hidden in the bottom of my desk drawers, but I’ll leave it at that anyway.  It’s looking empty already.  But I’m feeling a little empty in a weird way, so it fits, I guess.


The Week That Was


It’s been a difficult week and it is only Wednesday.  I’m hoping that the worst has happened and it will only get better from here.  I have that tight feeling in my chest I used to have in high school just before an exam that I KNEW I was going to fail.  I’m trying to not cry and I’m crying a little bit anyway and I just want it to stop, for crying out loud and let me get back to my silly, goofy fart-joke lovin’ self. 

So I’m thinking pedicure?  New hairstyle?  Ben and Jerry’s?  I don’t know.  Eh, I don’t really have time.  The semester starts today and I have class from 6:00 to 9:20 p.m.  Since I work till five that doesn’t leave much time for self medicating. 

Pardon this post.  I’m feeling sorry for myself and it isn’t very attractive.

Mondays. Grrrrr.


Got into a fender bender this morning. My fault-I rear-ended her. Minimal damage. The car and I are fine, but it just sort of colored today in a bleak shade of icky grey. I hate that it happened and I double-hate that it was my fault. Stupid, stupid Monday.

One Of Those [Bad] Days


Yesterday was bad.  Really a bad day.  To quote Fray, and for that matter, Buffy…”started off bad.  stayed that way.”

Had a fight with a friend-a friend I love.  Got an assignment at work that MUST be done by a specific date, only none of the people who sign off on it are cooperating.  One is out of town; the other doesn’t so much want to provide the documentation I need to get the job done.  Sorry, too much explainy would confuse further.  Co-worker is out of town attending a funeral this week and I’ve been slammed with phone calls and applications.  It’s always busier the last week of the month-people wanting to get their raises approved in time for the next pay period.  Who can blame ’em?  But it was stressful yesterday.  And then I had my first therapy session.  So.  Yeah.  Yesterday not nearly as good as Sunday, the last time I blupdated.  Here’s hoping today improves.

Yes, I’m Still Alive


It’s been busy at work and I ran out of gas and there was a traffic jam and I overslept/forgot to set my alarm and I’m not feeling well and I forgot all about it and my fingers are broken so I can’t type and the dog ate my homework.  Whatever.  Any excuse will do.  The truth?  Just haven’t been feeling bloggy.   Haven’t been feeling much of anything except for a dull sort of blah wherein I get up and go to work and go through all the motions without passion or enthusiasm.  Is it the medication?  Improper dosage?  I don’t know.  I’m certainly over the worst of my recent emotional trauma, but I’m by no means cured of depression.  I have a hard time just convincing myself to get out of bed every morning.  I feel affection for my family; my friends; my dogs, but I have no desire to interact.  In fact, the only person I’ve been in regular contact with lately is chauceriangirl.  She’s such a concrete part of my life that I wouldn’t know how to exist without her.  (So, no pressure there, c.g.)

This sounds so whiny; so ineffectual-this constant melancholia.  What have I to be sad about?  Nothing.  Just move.  Just breathe.  Just do it.  Nike says it works-who am I to argue?  And yet, I want nothing more than to curl up under my blankets and sleep for a month.

Anyway, some of you have emailed wondering if I’m still alive.  The short answer is yes.  If you made it this far, thank you.  I’m sorry I’m such a downer these days.  I’ve avoided blogging because that’s just where I am right now.  I’ll try to update more often.  And I’ll try not to be such a *$&# downer next time.

Make It Make Sense


Last night I was watching the news–ordinarily I’m kind of a news junky.  I watch in the morning and in the evening before I go to bed, but the last week I’ve kind of been tuned out.  I’d heard a bit about a local college student who’d been brutally killed, but I wasn’t paying attention.  Last night the news ran video first of the suspected killer and then flashed a photo of her.  I sat up and my jaw dropped.  I know her.  Knew her anyway.  Not well, but I worked with her for a while at a local theatre and she was as sweet as she was pretty-and trust me-that’s saying quite a bit because I don’t think I’ve ever known someone more beautiful.  You know if I’d just seen the news story but had never met her, I’d have thought, “how horrible.”  But as foi put it “because it was someone you did know, even though it wasn’t well, it’s got you thinking more about it. You can put a voice, mannerisms, etc. behind the photograph. It’s understandable.”  She didn’t deserve that.  No one deserves that and I’m so sorry for her family and her friends.  And I’m thinking that I’m glad she was so very loved by everyone she knew.  She was just 19.  She had plans and potential, and even better, she had the drive to make it happen.  So it makes me sick to my stomach, literally.  Why would someone do that?  I just don’t understand.

You know what makes me feel worse almost?  I’m excited because tomorrow I’m going with sunshine and foi and amethyst to the Buffy sing-a-long extravaganza.  And last night when I started to cry, I was really happy because my sweeter-than-any-dog-ever-in-the-world came over and put his chin on my knee and looked up at me imploringly and said, “it’s okay, I love you really, truly, always” and I was so happy to him there and I felt so sad that she wouldn’t be able to have that again.  It’s just kind of complex.  She should get to be excited about going to the movies with her friends and instead I am.  And please don’t misunderstand me, I’m very glad to have the life I have.  I’m just sad that for no reason that makes any logical sense to me at all, she doesn’t. 

And I feel guilty for not picking up her shift that one time.  If I’d known how little time she had left, I would have changed my plans and done it gladly.  I know that’s little and stupid.  I can’t help it. 

I can’t help thinking of the Buffy episode “The Body.”  Some of Joss Whedon’s best writing is in that episode, especially Anya’s monologue on the pointlessness of death.  It seems at first that she’s doing it again-being so literal and annoying, but she comes to the heart of the matter in such a sincere and deeply moving way:  I don’t understand. I don’t understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean I knew her, and then she’s, there’s just a body, and I don’t understand why she can’t just get back in it and not be dead anymore. It’s stupid. It’s mortal and stupid, and, and Xander crying and not talking, and I was having fruit punch and I thought, well, Joyce will never have any more fruit punch ever. And she’ll never have eggs, or yawn, or brush her hair, not ever and no one will explain to me why.

I found when Alicia died that I had to believe in heaven, and so I believe in it for M too.  But it still doesn’t make sense.  And I don’t think anybody can make it do so.