Sabotage!

I always feel a little anxious between posts, especially if a lot of time has passed since the last one. It reminds me of my teens and early 20s, when I used to keep a diary and did my best to write in it every day regardless of whether anything noteworthy had happened or not. If I were to write only on days when something monumental happens, chances are this blog would be updated very, very seldom.

But I think I've been putting off posting for awhile because I'm afraid of writing what is happening to me. What started off 8 months ago as a very optimistic, courageous, self-loving decision has turned into a depressing swirl of apathy and surrender.

I am seriously considering moving back in with my husband mostly because of my finances. They are dreadful. I am in debt up to my ass -- actually, more like up to my neck -- and I am beginning to think it is impossible for me to survive if I don't. Unless, of course, I get a divorce, but that will take time, and it's something I dread even thinking about, regardless of whether it's the best thing for me or not.

What makes my indecision worse is that lately I feel I made a really bad decision job-wise. This job has not been getting much better, and I am really second-guessing my decision-making abilities because of it. Am I really as intuitive as I thought? And even if I am, who says intuition always steers you the right way? It certainly hasn't seemed to in the job respect. Perhaps in my personal life, and my finances, if I stick to my guns and be a little more patient, things would improve. But they are abysmal.

Needless to say, I'm depressed, I'm afraid, I feel like I have been beaten. And that I am about to betray myself, and, as a friend said to me when I told her I was considering moving back in with my husband, "What are you doing? Why are you sabotaging yourself?"

Is it just fear? Depite all my setbacks, is it fear on my part that I am going in the right direction and I'm desperately trying to steer myself away, because I'm just not used to doing what is best for me? I don't know. All I know is, I am lost. In a deep, dark wood, and I cannot find my way out this time.

The "New" New Job

Well, it's coming up on the end of my first week at my new place of employment, and I thought I'd just give you all a rundown of how it is. In a nutshell: arrrrrgh.

The guy who's supposed to be training me (more on him later, mm hmm) has been off because of some surgical procedure he had done, I don't know when, but I guess fairly recently, because he's still off because of it. After I was sitting at my desk for about an hour the first morning, the guy I'm sharing an office with (an elderly Scottish gentleman, with a very dry, droll sense of humour and manner) tossed a binder at me and told me I might as well look through it. Yeah, I guess so. Not that it made much sense, of course. My boss, the woman I had the interview with, is the manager of the studio (yes, I work in a "studio", not an office, which is kind of cool, I guess) is much too busy running around having meetings and delegating work to an already-behind crew, so of course she couldn't spend much time with me either. What is really bizarre to me is that it doesn't seem to occur to them that I have nothing to do.

Do you have any idea how exhausting it is, and how difficult it is, to try and look busy when you have absolutely nothing to do? It's fucken killing me. Over the past few days, I had a couple of things to do that kept me going steadily, but for the most part, I've just been sitting around trying to look conscientious. God, I hate that. There is nothing I hate worse at work than just sitting around doing nothing.

Anyway, back to the guy who is supposed to be training me. He actually came in for about 3 hours on Tuesday especially to train me a bit, probably because I mentioned to my boss how I had nothing to do. Boy, let me tell you ... he is SO cute! 30ish, I guess, mid to late. He, too, is of British origin ... I wasn't sure whether his accent was English or Irish, it was very subtle, but oh my God ... he has an amazing sense of humour and is extremely well-read and intelligent. Yeah, just my type. He took me into the back boardroom (I wouldn't have minded if he'd just taken me in the back, to tell you the truth) and went through a few things about my job. I am SO hoping he's going to be in next week so I can really get started, but of course, it'll be interesting working alongside such a yummy specimen. Wonder if I'll be able to concentrate? I'll let you know. All I can say is, I couldn't help noticing he had a wealth of dark hair covering his forearms, which leads me to conclude that he more than likely has a wealth of it on the rest of his body as well. (See my last post, item 2.)

So, anyway ... TGIF tomorrow, lemme tell ya! I am determined to stay positive and write this less-than-ideal start off as just one of those things, and hope that when my sexy colleague comes in next week (please God), then things will even out and start to settle a little. It's hard to get comfortable in a new work environment when you barely know what the fuck is going on.

Why Are You All So Quiet? I Thought I'd Have a Shitload of Comments From That Last Post

See above.

I Wish I Had a Boyfriend Who ...

• is strong, emotionally as well as physically, with equal parts kindness and caring
• is tallish, with dark hair, furry chest, arms and legs, big hands, and a sturdy, thick penis for love and play ... no need for porn star proportions ... as long as he knows how to use it and enjoys using it, that's fine with me (this is merely a preference ... looks are not that important to me ... I have found myself attracted to all kinds of men, but this type is simply the kind of guy I steer to)
• LOVES to kiss and touch for hours
• adores me
• smiles proudly when he introduces me to his family and friends
• daydreams about me and gets hard at work
• thinks I'm fantastically intelligent and talented
• doesn't mind slow-dancing to "In My Place" by Coldplay, or any other song that really moves me
• encourages me
• would hold me if I cried
• would romance me before he tried to take me to bed
• looks forward to when we're going to see each other
• would send me flowers at work
• LOVES to watch me kiss my way down his body
• if he sees I'm upset, would care enough to ask what's wrong
• can talk about all kinds of different things
• tells me he can't believe how empty it seems his life was before me (in retrospect)
• is mature enough to know that love is not a game, that it exists, and treats anything relating to it with respect
• holds my hand as naturally as if he is taking a breath
• despises cruelty of any kind
• tells me how beautiful I am
• ... and that he wants to build a life with me and my daughter.

I'm Feeling So ... Wistful

Have you ever noticed the expressions on womens' faces in lingerie ads? This weekend -- a long weekend, no less -- I had absolutely nothing to do, so I resigned myself to going through every single insert in the paper. There, of course, were multiple flyers, including the always-fascinating Wal-Mart flyers, so I decided to thumb through them seeing what cheap shit I don't need, and, as usual, I found myself going through the underwear section.

These women modelling the bras and panties seem to have two expressions: either they are sitting there in their undies looking very serene and wistful, as if they're thinking: my life is just so blessed, thank you God, for giving me this beautiful body, beautiful house, beautiful husband with the huge penis and gorgeous kids and seven-figure income, and, I think I'll bake Aunt Margaret one of those lovely apple pies just to thank her for babysitting the kids yesterday ... or, they're laughing out loud at some unseen vision, as if, Oh, I'm so happy and so lucky to have such a great bunch of family and friends! But, they could also be looking at some guy lying naked on the bed, going, Are you kidding? You call THAT a penis! I call it a popsicle stick!

And, as far as Wal-Mart flyers go, I'd really like to know one thing: why do they name the shoes? You know, they show pictures of various pairs of sneakers and heels and boots and they all have a name beside them: Heather, Marie, Linda, etc. What the fuh? I personally would really like to see a David Hasselhoff pair.

So, that's been my weekend. While everyone else is out there partying, kegging, flirting and fucking, I'm seriously pondering the inner meaning of Wal-Mart flyers and watching Spongebob reruns with my daughter. And, much as I love Spongebob, I know ... it's sad.

This Better Be a Laura Ashley

I'm sure you've all heard the phrase, "You've made your bed, now lie in it" before. I sure have. Well, anyway, I just re-made my bed, big time, and I'm just hoping my instincts are right and everything will work out well.

Those of you who read my blog regularly know that I recently went through a whole host of job interviews, and it came down to a choice between two jobs. I took the more conservative choice, even though I knew I would probably regret it, and guess what? I did. I was sitting at my desk one day, about two weeks after I'd started, thinking, "What is going to become of me? Am I going to die in obscurity behind this desk without anyone ever knowing I'm alive? Am I doomed to live a meaningless existence simply for the purpose of getting a set amount in the bank every couple of weeks?"

These questions I was pondering led me to pick up the phone (my cell phone, actually, when I was on my break), and call the woman whose job I had turned down a scant month earlier. I was perfectly willing to grovel, beg, wheedle and whine, anything in order to get a second chance at that job. I wasn't sure what to expect -- whether she would hang up on me, tell me to fuck off, or simply kindly say thanks, but no thanks, I've hired someone else", then hang up, muttering "asshole". Anyway, she didn't answer, I got her voicemail, for which I was actually grateful, but I left her a grovelling, wheedling, whining message basically saying I really regretted turning down the job and if it was at all possible, please please please, would you maybe consider hiring me again?

She didn't get back to me, I called her back that afternoon, and she sounded friendly enough. I asked her if she'd gotten my message and she told me, with a laugh, that somebody had left her a message but that she'd accidentally deleted it. I shared her laugh and shrugged that off and then basically reiterated my position, that I believed I had made a serious mistake and was there any chance again that I could work for her. After a pause, and a bit more grovelling from me explaining why I had made the decision I did, she agreed to see what she could do and she'd get back to me in a couple of weeks. "Does that sound reasonable?" she asked. Hell yes, I thought, and told her, sure, take as long as you need, just let me know your decision when you make it.

Well, she called me back this week and told me she did have a position open and would I like it. I told her yes. Then I had to tell my current boss, who is an absolute sweetheart, probably one of the kindest men I have ever met, that I really terribly regretted it but that I had gotten an offer from another company who were offering to pay me much more, and I had decided to take it. He just sat there listening to me, nodding understandingly, and basically didn't say anything, except okay, I understand. I'm sure he was surprised. Then I had to tell my colleagues, which I did as soon as possible. It sent a mini shockwave through the company -- mini, because I've only been there a month, but it was a shock to the few people I've worked with.

I just feel like this other company is where I really belong, and while it isn't ideal as far as the hours go, I need to be there. I really think I need to start thinking more about money and more about my career and what's good for me professionally and personally. I just have the feeling this job will challenge me, will help me grow, will help me learn and develop important new skills, and get me a few steps closer to where I'm supposed to be in my life. This other job I've been doing is just that ... a job ... and I can feel myself withering away and dying just like with every other job I've had. I think it's time to push the envelope about and not be afraid to take some risks.

I start Sept. 11th. I know. But I don't think the date will jinx it any.

So, this bed had better be a good one. If it isn't, I'm stuck. But at least I'll know I took the risk and didn't ignore my gut feelings (for the millionth time). It's time to start paying more attention to my intuition. If I had done that years ago, in various situations, I'm sure that overall I would be much more content in my life right now.