People At Work

Some of my co-workers feel so empowered to tell me how to do my job better. And I would like to see how some of these people, who are so free with the easy answers, would fair. Indeed, I would like them to take over my job and then say, "Jesus, how did you manage all of this? And for so long on your own?"

And then I could/would say, "I know, right? It's hard. Good luck, let me know where I can help."

I Wrote

I wrote and it felt good - and it was a much better direction that I had been getting before 'the break,' so that's promising.

I noticed a difference, too. Before taking the unexpected break, I had been getting feedback here and there, people reading it a bit, and the feedback was things like, "I want more back story and there could be more about this person" and ... I agreed. Suddenly, I looked at the whole thing as it being a mere introduction to a much larger story. And then, suddenly, I was planning a Game of Thrones like epic.

That is not what this book is or was ever intended to be. This book should be a an accidental cross between a fairy tale and a novel. Like Naomi Novik, but still not even as grand as that.

So, phew.  That makes things a bit more manageable.

As it usually does, work carries a similar feeling - the one where I catch myself taking in information as if I never had my own direction to begin with, so clearly everyone and anyone has the wisdom I should seek.

However, it's just not true.

At work, I don't exude the confidence of "I know exactly where I'm going" and I don't demand resources so that I could delegate work, leaving myself to really take the time to shape the vision in a way that people could just look at a board and say, "Oh, that's what's happening."

I'm unorganized, I work haphazardly, messy, 'it's-all-in-my-head', fast and lose. I'm creating the rough draft of our new platform and the engine is throaty, strong, and smart. Fail Fast! I'm not building the sleek skin. But somehow, I've failed to communicate this. As well, my c-suite has failed to support this communication, they're getting as turned around as I am  in the fast paced cluster fuck of growing a team exponentially and with mixed leadership and communication. It's messy.

So, if I could take a page from my book, these people don't understand that story I'm trying to tell and they might not until it's finished. Then, once they read it front to back, they say, "Ohhh, I see your vision now. Yes. I like it."

And like my book, I must have confidence in the fact that

1. I can't explain it anymore than I have
2. I don't have to explain it anymore than I have
3. They can't see the big picture over time because they're not in the work
4. I know where I'm going - and this is all I know. 
1. this doesn't mean that that I'm writing the best book every or producing the best solutions for our software. But this is the thing I'm doing, have been selected to do, and so I will do it the way that I understand how. 
5. I can and will take feedback objectively

So, what do I want? 

I like my job, but I would like it to be less critical. My original manifestation was to have a day job where I

• laugh a lot
• feel successful
• gain financial freedom

I have the financial freedom (thank you, Universe), but I've lost the laughing and feeling successful. 

It's all three of these things that contribute to me attaining the larger goal of having a day job that leaves me room to write and/or sculpt.

There is so much pressure in this job right now, and honestly I don't know who is more responsible for creating it, me or our new shiny CTO. 

So here we go: Dear Universe, 

I would like to bring into my life the joy and feeling of being successful, a confident and restful mind, the space to write with excitement and enthusiasm, financial and emotional wellness, and laughter. 

And I want to be able to give these same things as much as I receive. I want to reciprocate. 

These are my manifestations. 

An Elizabeth Gilbert Overdose? Perhaps.

I mean, she's not wrong.

I've reread a lot of this blog this week, this quiet anonymous little journal that threatens to be found by someone, anyone, and is read (eventually and finally) by no one. It was interesting in a mildly boring way; the more things change, the more they stay the same.

I would appear to be someone who is obsessed with relationships and love (and that my job is all sorts of soul suck). Well, that too would not be wrong. I don't really care that it comes off that way. The context, that things are written with months in between, is lost in the journal format.

None of this is my point.

None except that little job bit that I snuck in.

I have been so consumed by the love of the project I have been working on for the last 3 (4?) years. No project in tech should be that long - that's the first BIG problem. But, it's a bad relationship now. It's eating me like fire ants on whatever it is they eat.

For a year I got up every morning and wrote between 5-7am. My eyes opened and myself said "write the book." I exercised laser focus, nothing else mattered. Write.The.Book.

So, what happened?

The end happened. I got to the end, looked behind me at all the words, and said, "Oh man, I gotta go back and .... "

and now here I am, almost five months later, making excuses about how it's too big of a fix to attend to from 5-7am everyday and then go to work and pull off this feat I am trying to pull off. My brain simply said, "Please stop. Right now, you can only have one of us. You can't have both."

So I looked at my wealth of words, "I'll come back for you" I said with my heart and eyes.

"Sure you will" she nodded, and not without genuine empathy either. She meant it. She meant it as if she would wait for me.

But the job is killing me nonetheless. Resource Management does not care for me like Lemke does. Lemke adores me and waits for us to tell her story - and certainly before my sister accidentally kills herself - in the hope, that for one moment, I  can show her her life from my perspective and that I can pay tribute to her sacrifice. You know, the one that she now martyrs herself with, and with such Irish gusto.

Anyways, I'm here: standing equal distance between work and that book. I'm as close to the the end of this project as I am at the beginning of the end of this book.

So what do I need? I need help. At work. At work I need to ask for, and demand they take me seriously, the help I need. This work is going hurt me with or with out considering anything about my personal creative desires.

It's a boyfriend that just keeps asking me to make him a sammich while laughing with his friends - he's a good guy, he just does not know what an ass he's become. He thinks that taking me aside once and awhile and saying "hey babe, you know I love you right?" is enough to sustain a marriage. It is not, but, of course we all know that.

Maybe I can get back to a place of balance. I just have to get out of this pit of fire ants.

I know the universe is speaking to me. I hear you, although, I may be taking some liberties with your inability to be perfectly clear (when in fact you may have been absolutely clear)?

Dear Liz,

I didn't like Eat, Love, Pray the book (yup, I liked the movie). I couldn't get past your voice, it was just too passive for me at the time I suppose. I didn't read anything of yours again until recently and then, I binged City of Girls, The Signature of All Things, and, just today, Big Magic.

I had seen your Ted Talk years ago and you were redeemed to me as an intellect. I saw the you past ELP. I connected inside and out to that talk (though, I did not run out and get Big Magic, not yet).

What am I trying to say?

Two days ago, I wrote you an email asking for friendship. I did so because sometimes you have to take chances or else how will you ever know? I am so want to surround myself with like-minded souls. I didn't have anywhere to send this email however and I hated the thought of it being just another DM you might skip in your Insta. So, I let it go. I'm a reasonable woman, I knew deep down it was a cathartic exercise as much as anything else.

And then today, after coming in from a long walk while listening to your audio book of Big Magic, just trying to regroup my priorities and direction, I sat on the couch and opened up Instagram, chatted with my daughters there, and then noticed you had a live story happening. "Huh" thought I.

I clicked on it (it was near the end) and there you were saying "just send an email asking for a friend!" My email had had the subject line "Coffee and Words #askingforafriend"

I mean, I had just taken Big Magic out of my ears. You can see where I'm going with this, right? No sooner had you said that though, you followed with "but, don't email me! laughter. I'm not going to email you back laughter. Ask other people!"

Ahh, Universe you funny, funny sly little big thing.

However, I can't risk not taking a chance. Something tells me you might click on the link I slip in your DM's. If not, Universe, no harm, no foul. I can't say you didn't explicitly have Liz tell me that very thing.

And Liz, if you find yourself here and you've made it this far. The name of this blog is not a sassy nickname meant to personify me (I am loath to imagine you thinking of me as "sassy blogger"), it's how I take my coffee.  If you find yourself curious about that, let me know and I can send you an email I wrote recently that explains it all :P

Yours Truly

PS: I know my odds here and rest assured, I will find my people, I will write and will write for me, for the love of story telling, and for the love of Lemke and the land from which she comes, which - no surprise here - is ripe with natural magic, a sneaky nightmare of a tragedy, and three sisters, their houses, and a wolf.

Looking at Discontent

I really just shouldn't, I shouldn't stare at my discontent. If I do, it's the only thing I'll see, and while it does exist it is certainly not the only thing, right? I can admit that discontent exists and trust that I will move past it.

If I only stare at all that junk and garbage that I have left on my living room chair, that for some reason seems like such a chore to deal with, and shame myself for being a... a what, I don't know. A lazy, dirty person perhaps? Then I will only see that reflection in the mirror.

If I only look at the parts of my relationship that make me feel trapped and lonely, it will be the only reflection of my life I will see.

If I think I am trapped, I will feel trapped.

I don't think I'm trapped. I think I have previous experience that leads me to see a relationship as a marriage, but mine does not have to be that. I only need to live the life I want, my inner emotional eco-system, and it will be. My partner could be my lover.

I need to kneel to my inner most desire, take a deep breath, and follow that path, trusting the unknown.

Maybe the stuff on the chair just represents to me the other things I'm not doing, the things that I really want to allow to come to fruition.

Woman of Arrival

I'm listening to a "morning chill" Spotify playlist. It's got that easy listening FM for over 30 vibe. It's got all those songs that you romantically cling to in those early relationship times, the ones where, as they play, everywhere you look love inspires and butterflies abound.

It's taking me back to those days where, separated by miles from my new crush, my new love, my heart swelled and swooned at the thought of him.

Now, he's in the next room.

Long gone is the lustre, and I now romanticize being a spinster; being one of the the most logical people I know, this interests me.

Do I really want to be a spinster?

Yes, right now I do.

I love the person I live with. He is very kind, responsible, funny, sexy, energetic, he's intelligent. I also know that being alone is lonely - and I don't love or fair super well alone with my brain, or do I? I don't know really.

It just feels like I chew through relationships and that, maybe, I am a "man eater" ?

For some time now, I have imagined myself as a "woman of arrival" who is content, independent, and is never want for the company of a faithful and kind lover. They just don't live with me.

I have my own witch like den and I only take distractions as and when I want them.

Indeed. This is absolutely where I see myself. A kind, self-possessed, generous, magical, contented, beautiful woman of a certain age and agelessness.

I feel resigned, patient, happy, and sad all together.

I don't really know where to go with all this. It feels a little shut up and wait.

Ya, So...

After writing yesterdays post and just feeling sad in general, my partner awoke to my somber, reflective mood and asked, "What's up?"

I told him, "Nothing really, I'm just... sad."

He came and sat beside me, his arm gently around me, and asked some gently probing questions until I said, with tears, "I think it's work."

Facing all those permutations of numbers and functions disguised as words and needs, validating those needs and words against existing uses, protecting it from... who? Too many, too much. So complex, it's like rubbing two sticks together for two years and - finally and again - getting smoke.

I'm disappointed that I'm burnt out. I wanted to be stronger, the strongest.

It's a Deep Breath Kind of Morning

I don't know why, but it is. Dear Diary...

This morning I will just pray and send gratitude out into the spirit energy layer. Pray that I can stay on that layer today.

Work is work. It's tough, but I feel like I know it's important to persevere.

It's important to love myself as I am.

Also, I feel like my relationship will wrap up within the year. I could be wrong, but I can see it on the horizon. I don't know if it will be me or him that will end it. It might have to be me.

It seems so clear to me that he needs to move into a new challenge in his life, but he's not quite ready to admit it. I think he's afraid of giving up what we have become, but there are ways in which he will always have me and still be happy, happier even perhaps.

I find myself dreaming of being comfortable alone. At peace. At oneness. I should be careful what I wish for, but the key word there is being comfortable. It certainly doesn't mean I wouldn't have a life.

But I dream of it like I used to dream of leaving my marriage and falling in love. And I still want that love, too. I just want to move into the next stage, the stage of graceful independence and a beautiful joy that penetrates all that I touch.

So, I would like to bring some of that into today.  A letting go of the frenetic synapse that my world is full of.

I want to put forward gratitude and pray for kindness, successes, and love.

Week 2: Day 3

I think today should be about spiritual wellness. A bit of meditation, some yoga, some grounding.

Monday turned out to be connecting with kids and having five hour video chat with my youngest. That was a very welcome first, it was so nice to just hang out for that long and chat about everything. I "sipped" wine the whole time though. I don't know why I didn't have water in-between. Stupid. Next thing I knew it was 12:30 at night and well past my bedtime. So yesterday was about being really tired and groggy.

Today should be about getting back to spiritual joy. In the quiet of this new world where no one is afraid they are missing out by staying home and where taking time to mediate is suddenly deemed essential by your employer who is no doubt grateful that his is the type of business that doesn't have to shut down and where everyone can safely work from home - in style no less.

For some of us, there are many blessings and for which, I am grateful.

No morning facebook for me today. No news. Just wellness goals. Quiet. And a little touching of G.O.D

Whoops! Not what I meant. 

The More Things Change the New World Order

Self isolation, social distancing: it's cool, it's kinda my thing anyways. But as much as it is already my thing, so is feeling suddenly awkward and inside out; the vulnerable part of my flesh on display for all the people that aren't looking, are never looking, their too busy doing their own things, feeling their own vulnerability. Just alone. Everyone alone. Surrounded and alone.

But only for a little while perhaps, only until the early morning passes and the stories that lay on the tips of tongues, stories of the the way the world will be now, the eerie, surreal new world order, get drowned out by the needs and clatter of the waking world.

But for now, every post apocalyptic story you ever read or watched ticks like the second hand on a watch. It's happening...

Only, it's not. It's nothing new even. I'm sure our world has had outbreaks worse than this before. And now, we have so many other ways to manage and fill our time, to stay in touch, connected. This isolation is a non-issue for us: the strong enough, the (just) young enough, the progressed world enough.

But still, it lingers.

The entire world is shutting down. If that isn't the eeriest thing in my lifetime, than I don't know...

Wait, that's a stupid sentence. It's eerie but -

The eeriest actual thing in my lifetime was this time I was 21ish. I had been dating this coked up dummy. This coked up dummy and a (best at the time) friend of mine kinda-sorta hooked up, then shortly after that he brought a girl back to my apartment. All of this was great because I hadn't known how I was going to get rid of him. He was a very persistent leach. This made it clear and easy to him that there was no coming back. However, it fucked up my friendship, and although I had wanted to get rid of him, the whole sorted affair left me hurt (how could I have even let him in my life, am I stupid?) and alone.

Fast forward a few months and my friend and I start to try and mend the fence (chicks before dicks and all). The break up had left it so that I had leave my apartment with him. I now rented a room in a house with people I didn't really relate to. My prized fig tree died as if mimicking my upturned, dying in a dark room soul.

I go out one night with my best friend to the same tired bar, the same tired drinks, but I don't last very long. Everything in my life has changed, I have changed. I have no fucking idea who I am. I want more of and for myself. I want control.

I go home and I have such a bad headache. I crawl into my bed, the only space in the world that is truly mine and I begin to cry; I cry the deepest sad cry about nothing I can actually put my finger on. I just cry. My head is killing me and the crying only makes it worse, but still I shut my eyes as tight as a I can and I cry - deeper and deeper and deeper - until BAM

My mind blast open like - like lightening - and behind my closed eyes, clear as fucking day, there I am: a little girl tucked down in the corner of what looks like a makeshift closet built of plywood. I can see a work shelf and there's army paraphernalia hung about. I know the house I'm in, I know I'm in the cold, dark basement, but I don't remember this closet.

I sat up with a sort of gasp - eyes wide open - what the fuck was that?

And the tears stopped. The sadness stopped. It was all gone. Even the headache was gone. I felt, oddly, so oddly, at total peace. I laid my head down and slept what would probably be the best sleep of my life.  I had achieved a most amazing feat.

I had travelled back in time. I had portalled back into my body, into a moment, an experience,  that I had no clue of ever having experienced. I have many memories of that horrible chapter of my life but not this very specific one. I had scienced; and this achievement, this level of control, was... magnificent, beautiful, and enough.

Whatever the core of the sadness I was feeling was, it must have been the same as that little girl version of me: sexual betrayal, female abandonment, loss of faith all wrapped into one moment. And the depth of my crying, the hard squeezing shut of my eyes, created a portal back in time to a moment where the adult me and the little five year old me were exactly the same.

It wasn't eerie in the moment it happened, that was freeing. What was eerie was after the fact, after that less than a second visual experience, I had my life and myself back. It was as if a missing puzzle piece had been replaced and I was whole. I was more than whole, I was at least 110% now. And it was eerie that somehow I knew I didn't have to dig deeper into that memory, it was enough that we saw each other for that split second, and we were, once again, one. I had her and she had me.

So, perhaps, the eeriness I feel now is similar in that change is afoot, big change. A shift. An earthquake. And, like the rest of the world, I feel a little vulnerable. I didn't intend to draw a connection to these two events, but maybe there is one. Maybe it's just that even though everything is changing, everything will be the same.

After that moment of blazing clarity wherein I became whole, I still went out into the world and made more stupid decisions that put me in weak positions, it didn't make me smarter. I was still twenty. Even though my game piece had changed irrevocably, I still made the same moves.

Perhaps, I just cared less about them though. Perhaps I knew, deep down, that none of it mattered, not really.

And although on the surface, during this time of COVID-19, things feel scary and weird, it matters not in the big picture. It's but a synapse. A stroke of lightening.

And for all of us who, from time to time, feel this awkward, uncomfortable sense of vulnerability, it's only a matter of time, pressure, and depth until we experience that flash of clarity that will set us free once again.

And maybe, just maybe, there are magical properties about all of us that extend the existence we currently know. Maybe there is no timeline. Maybe, just maybe, we have yet to crack the surface of what we are capable of

Be Quiet.

Woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Maybe it was the dreams my brain was having as I slept, maybe they left a bad taste in my mouth.

I woke up and sat down, with coffee in hand, to take in the days community news around the pandemic. The good, the bad, the ugly. What a great and horrible time for social media - depending on your algorithm. You could be seeing beautiful community, realistic and informative news; or you could be seeing conspiracy theories, unnecessarily dramatic fear, haters, and weird political outbursts and opinions.

I saw mostly the later this morning, as if my feed's algorithm checked in with my dreams to make sure the were aligned in the messaging for today.

What really seems to grind my gears is all the community people who - for some reason - think that they are the ones people are looking to for answers, so they "go live" on facebook with their message of hope. And all it really is, is a false ego boost. It's like masterbating.

HOWEVER (and whatever) there are actually people who are getting something positive out of it, which just makes me an asshole, which is what happens when you wake up on the wrong side of the bed. You're an asshole.

Hmm. Maybe it was the wine. I had two glasses, a little more than usual. I thought my body had overcome the hangover effects of having a bit more wine than just with dinner. But maybe - the hangover is just a shitty mood. I will experiment with this and not have the wine and see how tomorrow is.

Ugh, and the beef in the stew. Why doesn't beef like me anymore?

Anyways. Pandemic. Outside of the pain and loss that people maybe/are suffering, this has been delightful. I hope that we retain some of what we've learned about ourselves - which is we don't really have to plug so hard into the machine of social norms around work and commerce. There is room to experiment. Change.

And, perhaps, more freedom to buy yarn online and knit while listening to audio books. And you know, finish writing that fucking book you always talk about. Focus. Really shut out the world. Just peek out now and then and say a truly heartfelt hello to people I pass. Do squats so my ass doesn't atrophy. Run by myself to release/replace old energy with new. Say hello to the sun and trees. Be quiet.

Undoing

This thing at work, this girl at my work, it's the strangest thing.

Once upon a time, when I was married to someone who was opioid addict, I was in a relationship where I had to heavily rely on my intuition to tell me when he was using. He would deny, deny, deny and it would only be the subtlest of clues. I would think I was going crazy - sabotaging  the relationship with my accusations - based on teeny, tiny clues.

What I learned over time was to trust my intuition, my reading of the small tells, my gut.

What gets a little weird is how the lying (and heroine) made him "evil," which he wasn't. He was and is a very good man, a great provider, honest (outside of the shame of using), and dependable. He was not a monster.

This thing at work, this girl, it feels similar. Not the heroine, I don't think she's an addict, but... she's lying. To someone, about something, for reasons that feel, at an intuition level, malicious.

After the first day I met her, I had a dream where she had stabbed me in the back and then laughed about it. I woke from it with curiosity. Sure, I had a sense after meeting her that she was a bit on the fake side. She came across with a professional layer so polished that she didn't seem quite real.

She very nice, condescending in a very privileged young, rich, white girl way - but I have no evidence to suggest she's rich and, if you believe the stories, she's been through her own mean streets of childhood and youth in general. She presents buttoned up and professional as well as vulnerable and approachable about "how far she has come" as if she is somehow also wise.

But she doesn't sound any of those things. She sounds condescending and she acts/looks of the upper crowd that is "sorry" for what they're about to do, but "it's not personal, it's business. So, please excuse me while I crush your silly efforts and prove you as inconsequential to the bottom dollar."

As much as I try and take this girl at her word - I don't trust her. As much as I try and dismiss the little itch that says "something is not right here,"  I just can't. My warning light is throbbing. We are not a team.

Back in the old days, I learned a little trick that just always seemed to work. In fact, the last time I used it, it presented itself within minutes.

The trick is to ask the universe to reveal itself, to show me what I need to see to move past this, to undo this, to bring light to this feeling, to present the facts - even if those facts hurt me or show me as the source of wrong. Reveal that which is hiding just under the surface.

One of the important things about doing this practice is that once you have done it, you (can) let go. You pass everything you know and feel to the sky, the air, the gods, and you wait for the test results to come back. This is where I am now.

I may not get any test results. Generally, they are same day or within the week. Sometimes, nothing comes - which generally means there was nothing or it was a reflection of my own self (which is a result).

I suppose I just wanted to document my unease here, get it out, be official about it. This girl at my work... she gives me the heebie-jeebies. The hidden warning sign, the scratching behind the wall that I can hear but can't find; her smile as she see's me looking around for something she's hidden so well... it's fucking eire.

I don't know why she's doing it, I don't know what she gains from it - if in fact she's doing anything at all. I will try and give her the benefit of the doubt, I will try and remember that this does not make her a monster anymore than my husband's lying did.

All I know, with a loud and deep feeling, is that something is not right.

So thing - whatever or whoever you are - reveal yourself.

---

Rereading this post and seeing the title,  I'm aware, in a surreal kind of way, that this could be my undoing

The Monday Place

I'm here again.  I had a good night sleep and solid dreams that showed the path forward to be uncomplicated. All I have to do is wake up, enjoy coffee, go to work and write up three jira tickets that will fix everything.

Then, go ahead and prepare the project of creating the set up wizard that will propel our users to easy street and wow them with all the functionality. This is my Monday state of mind. It's easy.... 

3-7 jira tickets are going to save us all. Oh, and then 50 confluence documents to lay out the next 5 months. And then BAM, we take the world by storm.

However: the girl, not woman, girl who is my co-product owner, the smug smarmy one that gets her shoes "custom fit, because if I'm going to spend that much money on Fluevog shoes, I want them to be unique *cute smile*" will also be in the office today (usually remote) and this somehow threatens everything.

IT DOESN'T HAVE TO! You shout.   I know! I hear the same thing in my own head. But I seem to go in with positive thoughts every Monday just to have them shot to shit.

Whatever. 3-7 Jira (please, don't kid yourself, They are mind bending long ass...) tickets and the wizard project. That's today's focus and goal. I will create them and then, present them to the product team. I WILL BE THE CHANGE I WANT TO SEE.

The Change

Whatever, don't be an asshole and say "You can't be the change with that attitude." Read between the lines loser, that's just how it feels right now. 

Hey Pal, need a hand?

There, better? Supportive, confident, approachable co-worker is I. 

I Keep Forgetting I'm Burnt Out

The birds are starting to chirp in the morning more, that spring is coming chirp. It relieves my stress when I hear it, shifts my focus, I exhale.

Work is still boorish, brutish, garish and I need to find a way to let go and traverse the growth while maintaining the parts of what got us here that need to stay because they will impact how we cross the first finish line. It is the heart of what we want to create for the many people that depend on us.

And me, the burn out, is the only one that is left to get that message across - or so I feel.

I'm depressed. As in: the weight of my burn out is squashing me. Yet, I love what we are providing people and I want to make it all the things. But:

• I often have no interest, motivation, energy to get dressed
• I have sub zero energy in being sensual or sexual
• Work is so all consuming that I don't have enough breathing room to gauge if the above is due to depression or if I've met the relationship's capacity for growth
• Also, sex - orgasm -  is so much fucking work. Ugh. Can we just not? Why is this so important? 

It's the intimacy, the connection, the attraction that's important - and sex - orgasm - is what comes out of that, it's just a fun result. And sure, fine I'm not as attracted to my partner as of late. I'm physically attracted, he's very handsome. He's just also not very manly. He appears to veer towards infant like cuteness as an application of love more than he did in the beginning? He kinda likes to be swaddled if you will. Not actually, but metaphorically. How do I tell him that's a turn off? How do you say "I need you to be more of a kind, loving man, less of an excited, smothering child"? That sounds like something that would hurt to hear.

I feel like this might be something that happened naturally if he was prouder of himself as a man and work for him right now is not a place where he would feel that.

Maybe this place - that has always inspired me and elevated me (and pays me really well) - has become unhealthy for me, for him, and then for us.

Maybe too, he has always hoped that he could cuddle me into submission; perhaps he thought, given time and persistence, he could "break down my walls." They're not walls, they are the roots of my heart and soul. I am very naturally and happily a frank and inward person and I value small amounts of physical attention - small amounts make me happy.

I do want to be the woman in the relationship, I want you to pet my head and tell me I'm pretty, kiss the nape of my neck softly, seductively. I do not want to be a mother. I feel the need to repeat that, so repeat. Sometimes I feel like a mother to him. So awkward.

Also - ALSO - ....

Preface with: I watched my friend go through this with her current partner. She was likely his first serious long term relationship, and he wanted to dream/plan about their life together "we'll get a little home; you'll garden, I'll mow the lawn" and romanticize the ideal, and she was repelled (strong word perhaps but you get it) by it. She'd been through it, we've both done it, we've lived that life and there's not one fucking romantic thing about it. Not a single one.  The thought of gearing up for the fantasy is fucking scary. You don't want to live the lie again.

I feel sometimes that my partner (and me!) begin to fall into that and then I get a shock of reality and I start skittering backwards slowly, as if not to wake the dragon I just stumbled upon. Total fear. I really get what she was going through then.

My partner though, he's really never had this - he is fucking 31 - he should have his own experience with this. I feel like I'm taking something away from him if I say, "So about this life we're about to share... there's nothing glamours about it, it's not exciting, it's just fucking day in/day out. We wont have babies, we wont build anything because I've already done that and I don't want to do it again, it's all for not. I found that out."

But really, only half of that is true. We could build a life style: a house, a home, a love. We could. But he would be giving up a family in the conventional sense. To his credit, he's very aware of this and asks himself this question all the time. He's seen his mother and fathers unhappy relationship, he's seen his brother's marriage disintegrate. He has studied the reality of this conventional life, he knows his choice is unconventional, he has decided he wants to be selfish and not have the responsibility of kids, he sees himself growing old with me. 

But, I guess, in part, I don't trust that he's fully aware of 1) what he's getting into (like, I'm too fucking experienced to care about a lot of things that appear to need caring, and I want to be selfish now too) and 2) deep down, he wants to be with someone he can build a family/life with and have that experience with someone who is at a similar stage of life.

He keeps saying that I can be selfish but then it doesn't feel like I can. We had a chat where he did say that he's actions weren't matching his words. Maybe this is something we can grow through.

I do love him. I can imagine a long life with him. Grown up him though.

Which begs the question, is he imagining a long life with the cuddly, huggable, loveable, swaddling version of me? 'Cause.. that's never going to happen.

Brought to You By the Word: Work

It's probably the root of most of my malcontent and - funny enough - most of my reward and joy. I'm a product manager (aka product owner). I was the first of this title at my office.

In the very beginning, I came on as the 8th employee and worked in support - so, not a professional if you will, but a support jockey. You know, one of those guys.

I took the part time job back then because I was a little bored. My main job at the time was the "Web Master" for small government organization. It wasn't a challenging job but it paid well and fit my family needs at the time (being a mom of two young girls). This part time support job gave me a little extra cash working from home and the product gave many, many puzzles to figure out. It was like candy for me for 4 hours a day, 3 days a week. Exactly what I wanted.

It was a complex product and each support ticket that came in was mathematical word problem of  "how do I do...". I spent the next two years putting myself in the position of small and large business and providing solutions to their specific equation. The software continued to attempt to meet the needs of new customers by tweaking existing functionality - patching and hacking their way - and eventually becoming one of the most flexile products in our space.

Over the next four years, we would grow to gain large enterprise customers and I went from the support team to Key Account Manager to the Customer Success Manager and lastly, into the newly formed Product Team as a PM. Up until two years ago, we were developer centric, which made for some interesting frankenstiened features and overall application. Two years ago, our head of Marketing became the director of Product and I became the Product Manager.

In fact, I was the product specialist. I knew/know our users and product inside and out. I could tell you what every dial and lever was for and list a number of customer use cases to go with it.

I learned to take what I knew and balance it against the technical landscape, the needs of the whole, the needs of our business and to find solutions that would propel us forward in ways that met both the customer, attracted previously lost customers, reduced growing technical debt, should reduce support onboarding needs, lessen Launch Specialist time to launch.

So, in short, if my calculations are correct (so far, so good in our Beta) I will have increased our T:P, reduced support needs, and increased launch revenue by 50% (probably more like 90% because I have reduced the current complexity by that much).

I have potentially taken a multi million dollar app and improved it by... let's be conservative and say 10%.

Now, lets look at the project:

I began with a team of ~4 developers, one senior and the rest were essentially new hires that didn't know the system.

My proposal turns our main functionality inside out and upside down - it's kinda revolutionary. The senior dev understands the use case, likes the idea, and sees an opportunity to end technical debt. He's going to build, he pretty much has to, in an entirely new code base. In short, with this decision, we are now rebuilding the entire application.

My initial estimates from the dev team: 6-8 months. "Okay, let's go then" I say.

I have basic documentation that outlines the project at a high level - but I never write another piece of documentation. What I write is Jira ticket after Jira ticket after Jira ticket.

I spend the next 8 months fighting with my dev team. They don't believe the use cases and pressure me to prove it. None of them know the system or the customer but "they know tech" and because we've had a dev centric operation up and till now, they believe they know the solution better than me. None of us truly understand (or believe) what a Product Team is for.

Of note: by this time of the project, I have obtained my Product Owner Certification but no one, absolutely no one on my team believes this or considers it valuable. No one else on the project has taken any agile training (but they've read about it), and none of us are on board with a process. Everything is ad hoc. I am one product owner and (by this time) 6+ developers - and I'm asking a lot of them. 

One year into the project (already well past our initial estimate) we are half way done. We've got the new core functionality built, we've tested it with users, we even have an enterprise customer using it live and the company hires a new VP of Development (...and Product).

What's left is essentially to make the refactored platform reach feature parity with the existing. At this point, all we have is the core functionality, now we have to add the rest. It must work with all the bells and whistles (that product, me, has decided are necessary. For certain, some were cut out) that the existing product thrives on.

Our new dazzling, jazz hands, fast and loose, get shit done VP is basically a god send. He snaps the developers to attention, brings in agile training, re organizes teams, removes blockers that should never had existed (Dear Developer, you are not the Product Manager or Designer). My team of developers gets some more new senior developers and they're good... they learn the product, they educate themselves against the use cases I provide, they begin to trust me.

Our new dazzling, jazz hands, fast and loose, get shit done VP then finds/makes the budget to hire more Product Managers - because, up and till now I have been the only one working on a project that touches every.fucking.aspect of our application. ALL OF IT. 

Side note: Our director of product and I have both been wary of brining in new PM's because the learning curve of the application is so steep that they would be of no assistance to me given that I would have to stop what I'm doing to train them - and I am already running as fast as I can with ten spinning plates or more at any given time.

So, here we are now. The project is 95% complete and we are taking on beta users - already proving value by taking on enterprise customers our sales team would have turned away previously due to their complex use case. Customers and customer facing teams are excited. The new core functionality completely removes workaround hacks that were mind bending to achieve as well as achieving configurations that were previously just impossible.

My mandate was to get the functionality in their, rough and ready for the next project which was core UI/UX. Make it useable, not pixel perfect, and then we re-skin the UI.

Great. That's what I've done.

However. HOWEVER!!! No one remembers this "mandate" (because, you know, it was two fucking years ago and as I said, very loosely documented).  The new PM that will be leading the UX, who is so fucking smug, arrogant, and condescending, does not know how the previous system worked, what the problems were, or understand how we solved the problems so how could she ever appreciate how revolutionary I have been? How key I am to the future successes of our platform (numbers pending, but I'm hopeful).

I feel that she looks at me as a "cute example of a start up who 'done real good'" for a non professional PM. Pat pat pat on my head.

She's a very shiny PM, I'll give her that. She's got all the buzz words, documentation, workflows, expectations, boundaries... yeah, she's got it all. And she's right, I have no experience with any of that. Her existence has shown me up as the hired muscle. And, it would appear, that she loves that type of reflection. Maybe? First appearances strongly suggest this.

To add insult to injury, our yearly kick off motto is

"What got us here wont get us there."

Lovely...

If you're in a similar business and position, I know you might be saying, Girl, you gotta get up and show your value, this is on you! No one can take this away from you if you do the work!

and you would be right.

What I would like to say is that... my god, I am so tired and coming super close to being defeated. Mentally and emotionally. I feel like I might just take the loss and hand her the moon flag with a "fuck it, take it" and she can cross the finish line with all the glory having run the final 100 meters of a marathon.

I'l be on a stretcher somewhere with people saying "well, if you had just maintained a different pace and had better sneakers and nipple tape and told the people not to change the route.... It's a good thing she was there to save it for you, hey?"

And I'll just respond, "Yeah, thank god for her" and avert my eyes.



I started this project when we all knew and accepted we were "a scrappy start up" and now, that's no excuse.

I'm not saying I'll let myself go out like this, but that I feel like this needed to be said; whether or not I will have what it takes to raise myself, in a manner that I can be proud of, is the question I face and have no idea of the answer to.

But everyday I wake up, I humbly accept that I made every wrong decision at the same time as taking every next right step given the circumstances, and that only a handful of people (which does include our founder and CEO) will ever know this.

---

Most importantly though, at the end of it all, this platform that I have come to love, is going to be kick ass. And in my heart of hearts, I will know that I just answered the biggest support ticket ever. Building upon what our founder created, I have given our customers (the foundation of) what they need to live the lives they want. That makes me happy.

You're Doing It.

Sometimes it's scary how fast my manifestations reveal themselves. All day yesterday I just kept seeing all the places where I had exactly what I was looking for - right down to the financial freedom and being in a position enough to fork over all the dollars my youngest daughter needed for things like highlights. The fact that she'll be close to to me this weekend, flowing in and out of my life with ease and joy and that I have a room for her to stay in, and that I'm here for her as she needs me.

It's scary, somehow, that everything I need is simply at my fingertips. Why? Why is it scary?

If you could have everything and anything that you wanted, would you want that? What if everything that you wanted was just so super simple and it was yours. What if what you really wanted was just ease and you realized, once you looked, that you had it. There was no real strife.

What will my body and mind eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if not adrenaline?

The key to my manifestation was not asking for those things, but asking to see when I had them. I had/have them all - right now. Every now.

When ever I have asked for those things in the past, I imagined them to be something I was not familiar with, something else that I thought/think I want even though I know that this is not how it works. I was still doing it from a "I would be happier if and when (I'm a well paid writer). Which just incites pain and loathing of my life today.

Perhaps the fear for me is that if I have everything that brings me joy and ease, then I become complacent when, in fact, I still want to strive for more. Maybe I'll never be a recognized author, and maybe it wont bring me the joy I think it will, but it's still something I want to try (like how others want to parachute out of a plane) . I'm curious about the book(s) in me and the process.

So, I suppose my balance is seeing (living) the ease and joy of today while feeling the reach of following curiosity and potential growth; bending towards the sun because that feels as good and natural as feeling the strength of my roots in the ground.

True, but embarrassingly optimistic 

I Can See When...

What kind of life do I want? I want a life that is magically cohesive.

(I can see when) The things and people  I love flow in and out of my day to day with ease and joy.

(I can see when) The work I do day to day feels accomplished, successful, and appreciated.

(I can see when) I feel that I am able to help other people achieve success; I can get out of their way and watch them rise.

(I can see when) My best self is always at the ready.

Things I create bring joy and ease into peoples lives.

(I can see when) I have a home base that sings the song of my soul along with me.

(I can see when) I have an peaceful balance with my mind self and spirit self

I have financial freedom and room to share and explore

I know how and when to speak up for myself

(I can see when) I am strong in speech

(I can see when) I am strong in heart

My body is healthy

My spirit is healthy

I experience the reverberation of quiet, simple joy

(I can see when) I feel at ease.

---

My boss (the CEO one) messaged me yesterday evening wondering if I was free to have a chat next week "about product." Given the current state of our department, my performance, the rise and fall of my undying desire and force to achieve a goal, the environment around me, the state of our exploding growth, the requirements of my role.... this conversation could mean a few things:

"You've done a great job with what you had to work with and the uneducated skill and historical knowledge, we thank you. However, what got us here wont get us there so we need to replace you with a pro"

-or-

"You've showed drive, skill, intelligence (that appeared to go un noticed but, if fact, wasn't at all), and against numerous odds you have imagined and built the strongest version of our software that will sky rocket us to success, and for that we thank you. We see a place for you in a more senior role. We only ask that you take _______ training."

-or- 

"I know it's been hard Ravy - but please - hold on. We're almost there. I see you. I hear you."

---

Given any of the above, what do I want for my life? 

Dearly Beloved...

Yesterday's post was like a poop that got cut short, the one you have to pinch off because some one is knocking on your door and you're not one to let a knock go unanswered.

I'm working from home today - what a fucking a relief. No vomit!! To just be able to focus and work on one task to the next... hallelujah.

I'm going to put my feet in some foot callus soak (provides 2 weeks of gorgeous and gross foot peeling, it's amazing!) whilst I work on one thing at a time, uninterrupted.  AND, I'm gonna get some laundry done.

The cacophony that is that fucking work place - Jesus. No wonder I want to vomit at the thought of going there. I have fun and everything, I love the people I work with, but it's madness.

We're moving into a new office space in a few months. We've completely outgrown the office we have, where we take up two floors of a building and we're like ants going up and down stairs and covering the walls and floors with busy, busy work. So, we're going into a bigger building and we'll all be on the same floor. Our new office is currently being professionally decorated. Yeah, that's what I said.

We were a start up, now we're a grown up. Our current office looks like a boys apartment, a boy who's mother came in a some point and tried to class it up a bit but failed under the weight of the task. I've never really cared or noticed this fact too much, which is to say I happily accepted it. But now that I've seen the mood boards for the new office, I figure I will gladly take a grown up apartment for a work environment. And hopefully, some grown up quiet space.

I'm feeling me here

In other news, I had yet another chat about my asexual behaviour with my partner. Just checking in to tell him, "I'm super kinda sorry about this, but it's how I feel and... that's that." I reminded both of us about the conversation we had before we moved in, the one where I said "I don't want to feel like I'm married. I want to be able to feel single and independent;" you know,  as if I am a super busy business woman who has adult children she stays close to while single handedly conceptualizing and managing the  rebuilding of complex software system for an emerging start up. So I don't have time for a full time lover, only a part time lover who I can call for dates and stuff.

And you know what? It went well. Really well. I told him that I end up resenting "us" if I can't "pretend" (yes, that is "crazy" person air quotes) that I live in my own apartment (that has a real live warm body to curl into when needed) and not feel like I have some....

wifely obligation to feed or sex another human!

 I'll go berserk. I really will.

He said, "Look..." he's happy and he loves me a lot a lot. He loves what we have. Sure, he has desires more than I do, but he can manage that on his own (it's not like we never have sex, we just don't have new relationship sex). He said he'd thought about all of this and walked through the whole "Ohh, look at that girl, she's hot. What would it be like to be with her and to be having crazy sex all the time?" and on the other side of that conversation was dismay that it wouldn't be me that he was spending time with and what if this "other new sexy time girl" didn't let me him be independent?

So, we both like the independence. If and when I drag him on a home shopping adventure, he hates it the whole time. He, also, does not want to be married, but he does appreciate the comfy home he gets to live in and the warm body.

He also, and this is new to me, does not expect that I should want to have sex with him when he hasn't put any effort into the days and weeks to woo me. What a fucking novel experience to have with man/boy! Trusting this though, that's a whole different day and post (which I think I've already written at some point).

So, there you have it, my basket of things that feel like problems, that are all apparently solved by working from home (check the time, I wrote this before "work hours," nice try though), but are more just the uncomfortable stages of this relentless thing we call "life."

And, for you, at the end of all my first world society problems, I have delivered an un-pinched poop.

That feels better

Still January? Still Shitty.

What does it take to not want to vomit at the start of every day? The day will be fine once i get going. I'll land at the gym on time and my body do what I ask of it while my mind thinks of all the ways this might be killing me, and then after I will feel resplendent and grateful for the work. I will make it to work with time to spare, shower comfortably, sip coffee and smoke my vape in the washroom while I get ready - greedy with the last bit of alone time.

Then, I will sit at my desk and open my computer and face my life. One hundred and fifty billion JIRA tickets, the acrid smell of a two-year-long project (IT'S A REFACTOR!), BETA customers, feedback, launch dates, the "design review" (YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG! from the peanut gallery. WHAT THE FUCK! LETS JUST GET THIS DONE from the PM). The New Girls and all their 'infinite wisdom'


So, yeah...


Why the vomit?

Blue January

It must have been a rough month because I posted like a mad woman. I hope it was just a January thing. I hope it I can leave it behind me like a slug trail that slowly disappears. I hope the spring washes it away.

Where I live, we don't see sun, it would seem, for approximately three months, maybe four depending on how February goes. It's truly striking to me how much of an affect this has. It's entirely possible that once the sun peeks back out and flowers start to bloom and I can hop on my bike with shorts on to get myself to work, that you, the never present reader (that nonetheless, keeps me honest and accountable) will not hear a peep from my disguise. Let's hope so.

I just sat in my morning coffee routine and scrolled stupid facebook for about an hour. It was an absolute waste of time "reading the paper" and slowly filling with anxiety that is provoked by the monotony of endless human waste.

ugh

On Tuesday, I went on behalf of my sister to what will likely be the last meeting regarding my niece as she settles in living with her father. In that meeting, as I attempted to advocate for my sister after I heard that "there have been reports of drunkenness and possible drug use in the community" I came to a new level of clarity. I began to ask for proof of these reports. If they were going to base a non-contact order on these reports, shouldn't they supply proof? But then I realized how stupid that was. Images of our father's drunkenness flashed before me, his slurred verbally violent behaviour and her own outbursts of the same, I knew what this social worker had to deal with, I didn't need proof.  The woman didn't even show up to her own meeting for her daughter, didn't answer my call.

And then... I realized with a new set of eyes what my niece had to deal with. She was me leaving my father behind and my sister is our father. I cried. I cried and cried right there in that room. I cried for my niece and I cried for me.

I think she might die soon. I'm not sure what to do about that.

We are Just Insects, Part II

Sure. I'm angry deep down inside that my mother is slowly dying. The stages of grief, perhaps. I'm getting a head start.

I'm also angry in general. Perhaps at myself or perhaps directly with my partner. What once brought me smiles and joy now brings me frustration and dismay. Is it me, I wonder? Have I failed again? Am I self sabotaging... again?

Maybe he has a learning disability. It's entirely possible. But, I don't know this for sure, and what I see is someone who appears capable not really trying to be smart or accountable or grown up or self aware or self sufficient.

At work, I've known for sometime that he uses me as a way to understand the work he is doing or could be doing. When he does outreach to customers he'll ask me to proof his email (he's not especially good with the words) and, mostly, I've stopped what I'm doing to tweak his correspondence. The other day, he asked me to read his email and once I did, I said something like, "Yeah, it's good. You could just tweak this part, maybe say it like yadda yadda" and he responded, "Could you just write that out?" with a little bit of an annoyed tone.

Are you fucking kidding me? Clearly, I've done myself a disservice by doing this very thing in the past, but now he's come to expect it?


In our job, our place of work, I have a monumentous project and he has make-work projects, a position he put himself into because he, ultimately, didn't like that I ended up leading the main project and he didn't agree with the way I was doing it, so we hired a new designer and he built himself a role of researcher.

Great. Only -ugh- only... so-many-things-here.

The gist of it is - he doesn't know what he's doing with himself. He needs direction but he only wants it in the way that makes it appear as if he didn't get it from someone else? Sort of? He asks your (my) opinion and then promptly argues against it so as to give himself a voice. Yeah, that's a big one. And, he's so far up his own ass on this behaviour, and so young, that explaining the possibility of this behaviour would be like explaining algebra to a second grader - knowing- that their lifestyle depended on it.

The opposite of this happens at home. At home, he is saccharine. Kiss kiss, snuggle, "you're so cute," kiss kiss. 

Meanwhile, I am longing to be with someone that engages me and/or is self contained. He is not self contained. He is smeared all the fuck over the place, like jam carefully spread right to the crust of the bread. There is no corner unjammed. And the engagement is mostly me explaining the concepts of algebra and the applications of algebra in life, over and over again.

Boop!

I keep thinking back to the beginning, what was so different in the beginning that I was so attracted to him? He seemed more like a.... a man. He knew what he wanted and where he was going.

And now, he's kind of drowning - maybe - and hanging on to me as a lifeline. But when it becomes obvious that he's pulling me underwater and I look at him, he lets go and says "What? No, I'm not doing that, I've got my own personal floating device right here."

"No, you were using me, you were grabbing my legs."

"No" he says, "maybe I did for a second but that was just to try and help you."

"What? I didn't need help..." I reply

"Why are you so stubborn?" he would say, "You don't have to be so independent, it's okay to get help."

"But... I don't need help swimming" or walking or, you know, basic human functions.

As I write this, I see that there is a bit of (he-comes-by-it-honestly) gaslighting going on. He's trying to cover up or hide his feelings of inadequacy within me. And, again, his emotional intelligence is in its infancy. And this possible learning disability where he can't seem to retain a lesson mitigates any progress you make explaining something. The next day, he seems to have forgotten, his mind has reset.

How do you explain to someone that they're not being smart and not trying hard enough to find themselves. Isn't that something that they have to come to themselves based on the consequences of their actions? 

Yet... YET! He's clever enough to find ways to use me to cover up things he doesn't want to face.

Now, it gets worse; not only am I engaging in some codependency here, my employer is too.

If I had to hazard a guess,  my lovely, clever, funny, sexy man has found a way, through out his whole life, to get people to "help" him get to the next goal post. His mom, his brother, his dad, his friends, peers, luck, and now me. As well, he's learned to apply his genuine charisma (the jam) in a way that is genuinely loveable, he then becomes indispensable in other areas of your life, areas that are not quite adjacent to the reason he showed up there, but... seemingly helpful nonetheless?

My employer would likely, is likely refusing to let him go because he loves him and has very genuine affection for him. He contributes to a zaney, loveable culture at our work. He's basically tenured based on his personality and how he, occasionally, brings people together, not because of the work he produces.

As for me, in the beginning he fired me up, attracted me, made me feel sexy and like a woman who was with a man. I feel a bit like a mom or sister now, always trying to help him figure shit out, but I keep him around as a partner because he chops wood and cleans the house- so that's good, right?

So this is what is angering me, that I am at this juncture and I don't want to be. Do I:

1) tell him what isn't working and why and *we* work on it? We? Really? 
2) just leave (eventually) as gracefully and lovingly as possible.

Let me be clear (with me) here,  I was very upfront that I did not want a marriage. We did not enter this housing partnership under the terms of marriage. We entered it as two adults who enjoyed each others company and could make really good use of cheaper rent if we cohabitated, i.e. roommates that have sex when and as they want (because that never goes wrong and there's no way to fall into a marriage like environment when you love each other first and roommate second. I am so (not) smart).

So, my question at the beginning: Is it me, I wonder? Have I failed again? Am I self sabotaging... again?

Well, that just sounds ridiculous and un-empowered for a woman of my age and experience. This is how life goes, plain and simple, this is a cycle of life (and love). He is not unloveable, however now that the shine of good behaviour that is the beginning of a relationship has worn off, we are left with seeing each other in the real. At this stage, you will either still like each other or not. There is no failure. Just facts.

We are just insects. There is no magic. Magic is just truth with sparkles.

Self sabotaging. Ha! At this time in life. Hu-Larious.

Fuck This (We Are All Just Insects, Part I)

My mom is slipping into the abyss of death, taking a slow train. The more the Alzheimers sets in, the less stress she feels in life - because literally nothing exists from one second to the next - so, most likely, the longer she will live... as a vacant representation of a mother I once had.

My heart is broken.

She wasn't a great woman, she was just a lovely woman
She didn't accomplish anything, nor did she set out to
She just came, lived, and then something ate her brain.

Apparently, this is all there is to life and somehow, SOMEHOW, I fucking missed this.

I shoved Polly-Anna so far up my ass -

Even after everything thing that ever happened to me, every time life shoved me face down, I would just spring back up ready to fight the odds, giddy to fight the odds. A real scrapper.

But, for what? So that I can break my children's hearts - the people that I have spent every day of my adult life protecting, the last thing they will know of me is how I broke their fucking heart by leaving? By becoming nothing? Having never been fully truthful with them about the fact that our time on this earth MEANS FUCKING NOTHING.

It means nothing. It's just time. Monotonous time until you die. It's the waiting line for death. We're all standing in the same line up pretending that somehow it's meaningful.

I've been my own ray of fucking sunshine, the cheer leader in the line up "Chin up everyone, this is it, let's win this game, you got this. Go, go go.... Yay!"

and then something came along and ate my mothers brain, turned her into a sweet little vegetarian zombie, providing a little slice, a preview, of what's on the other side of this line up that we're all so excited to be a part of: fucking nothing.

I'm still going to do all the things I think I'm meant to do, but I see now that it's nothing more that the biological function. Having hope is just as much a function of our bodies as is need to dispose of waste. We're no different than an insect; it's just in our evolutionary process, we've had to make some sense of the existentialism our brilliant brains created, and... we call it spirituality, goals, love

but in the end, the very end, it's just human waste.

We all live to fertilize the earth. Simple organic biology. Insects.

Sexual Contentment? You Don't Have It.

I don't know what to say about my relationship. I'm bored? He must be bored too.

I'm not unhappy at all. I'm content. But I'm also content not to have sex. I'm content to cuddle and kiss - but, I don't care for sex. I have no desire for sex. If I feel the need of an orgasm, I can just quickly do that for myself. It seems much more efficient. I wonder how normal this is; as in, I think it's quite normal.

I think it will come back naturally at some point. Maybe?

I really enjoy being on my own when I am, but that's also because my over all need for companionship is being met. If it wasn't, being alone would be lonely. But I dream of having my own apartment. BUT I also like that I'm not paying through nose for a place and that I can share the burden of high living costs. This allows me a lifestyle.

All of this to say - things are perfect and I believe I am not appreciating that and, perhaps, missing struggle in my life? Creating struggle? Meh, I don't know. 

I feel a bit bad that we're not hyper sexual, but then, he doesn't seem to mind. My brain stirs up feelings of guilt that I'm not doing my job however and an invisible sex clock ticks loudly behind my back: doom, doom, doom it ticks. It ticks doom because I'm happy in this currently asexual relationship and I don't want that to change.

I like having a companion to share things without opening up my body to his fluids. ya know?

So, I find myself pushing him away a bit in anticipation of his needs.

Also, I want to be on my own, in my own world 60-70% of the time and then we meet up for dates and stuff. Perhaps that's where living together has killed the excitement. We work and live together. And... this was my doing. I forced this a bit. I encouraged it. We were acting like we live together but we had separate houses, it was a struggle to go back and forth, it was annoying "making time" to just hang out and watch a movie. Wouldn't it just be easier if we lived together and didn't have to make a big deal out of whose place we would go to? And, it's true, this is much more sustainable. It's just that sustainable also brought about mundane. Le sigh.

Perhaps I'm just not trusting this type of contentment? I'm pushing at, poking it from all angles, turning my back on it, calling it a lier.

Maybe I just need to exercise my independence somehow. Maybe that's the work I can do to balance what feels imbalanced to me. Maybe that means throwing out the sex is part of your living arrangement-job clock.

Yeah, that statement feels right. That clock is taking up a lot of mental real estate. I'll have to address the bungie cord the clock is attached to. Each time I come to this conclusion and chuck the clock, it eventually bounces its way back into place.

---

Uh... update: this is the reason I feel discontented with the sex. Open eyes. 

Gold Jerry, Gold!

Okay, so, here we are. It's 2020.

I feel good this morning. The gale wind shifted from inside of me to outside of me and nature is briskly ransacking the trees. I stepped outside into the morning darkness and watched the trees move for the first time in weeks. It looked like it probably felt good for them, being ransacked, having stood stock still for so long. The wind was pushing through them and I could imagine them saying, "Oh thank god. Finally...I can move."

My partner is still in need a few adjustments. He is a bit too much like a happy untrained puppy when you walk in the door. He wants to kiss and touch me constantly. Every time I walk into a room it's like I've just gotten home. That's not right. I think he feels neglected.

Well, you know, there's not much I can do about that. He didn't feel neglected all summer long. He went about his business, was always out and about, and when we decided to do things together we just did it. Now, in the winter, I'm the centre of his world. To which I say....

imagine that's a puppy

It's a small thing, I think. A trainable thing. A thing that we can talk about and I can let him know that it's not a good thing for me to change my personality to fit his seasonal behaviour. That's all I want to say. I do not want to feel responsible for another adults happiness. 

I do want to share happiness; I want to share love and attraction too. But share is different than being the source of. 

So, without a lot of ado, I feel that is a conversation we will have and a line in the sand that I will draw. I just freed up a large portion of mental real estate with my niece moving out and I intend to exercise the expanse l e i s u r l e y.

Kudos to him for doing that whole year with my niece though - he does deserve a round of applause for his patience and fortitude. Good, good man. 

Let's talk about this mess with my sister and the change that has unfolded with me not having her daughter anymore. 

-O H  M Y  G O D-

What an unbelievable relief 

What a great way to end a year and start a new one. When I talk to her now and she cries "thank you soooo much, I'm soooo sorry...." 1) I can just cut her off and say "well it's all over now" and 2) I can see the subtle gross manipulation of sucking me into her dark world where she promises she "wont be like our dad" when she's exactly like him right now. Those sorry's were sick little unconscious tactics and queues for me to feel her pain. They were fucking maddening. 

As I look back on this year, having to be connected to her was awful. I honestly have some measure of PTSD and when I'm around street people (I work above a parole office) who rant and yell their pain and injustices for all the world to hear, my body goes ridged and my stomach turns - for serious. It's her. 

Being able to imagine my niece with her dad, living a normal annoyed kid life with no need for interference is so nice, unbelievably nice; because it means that I don't have to fight for and with my sister to make sure her daughter is with family, because she is! It means I can let go of my sister and let her make whatever choices she wants - because she is an adult  - her choices have nothing to do with me.

read: fuck yeah

I am free

It was a lot of work I did in 2019. A lot of mental work. Pushing forward while I had the dead weight of my sister tied to me. 

I have to keep saying this so that I realize what I am mending in my heart, mind, and soul. I took a beating last year and this year I'm going heal. I learned: 

• That my sister is definitely our dad
• I have to let go of my sister as I did our dad
• I will support and understand that her children will let go of her too
• As our dad, she is allowed to live the life she chooses
• I am not an asshole if I let her go
• I am not responsible for her
• I already fought for my independence from that way of life, I don't need to fight again
• I want to prioritize the good, healthy work of raising myself up into the clean air
• I want to tune the frequency of my soul - there it is

I don't want to apologize for taking the space I need to do this. Everyone around me is AN ADULT. If they need to make an adjustment to their life because of how I choose to execute mine, they can - and they can figure that out for themselves. It's plain and it's simple. And, it's glorious. 

It's 2020 and I... am free

Finally, I can move.