Displaced Person

Well I am not at home this week. Instead I am house and chicken sitting for my Dad and step mom in my hometown. It's been a horribly stressful week (yes I am aware that it's only Wednesday) and I really just want to go home.

When I read Elizabeth Gilbert's book, Eat, Pray, Love, I identified with her description of crying on the bathroom floor. I've been a bathroom floor cryer for a long time. It's not that I find the bathroom particularly comforting but it's generally the one room in a house that you have complete privacy for a meltdown. It's also actually really efficient since you are not out of reach of things to wipe your tears on.

So after a nasty, angry, vicious phone call with someone who has been a friend for far too long, I find myself sitting at my Dad's kitchen table in tears. And it doesn't feel right because this is not my home. Once again I am in tears, having a cry, sitting on a bathmat. I am angry that this person made me feel this way. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm stressed beyond belief right now. How dare he.

Roses Are Red, Pineapples Not So Much

Being single, I am firmly involved in the dating game. Though it may seem a bit old fashioned there is something to be said for getting flowers. I love roses, only if they actually smell like roses, orchids, peonies, and really any cut flower other than carnations. I've gotten flowers before the date, after the date, just because, and they always manage to make me smile. It's a clear signal that someone is interested in you.

Trying to account for regional or gender differences in dating styles I still can't stop laughing at a male friend of mine and his choice of what to send a girl he is interested in. No mere roses for him. Nope. He's going with the Fruit Bouquet choice. Yes indeed, fruit on a stick. He was thinking about not signing the card and sending it anonymously. Can you imagine getting anonymous fruit?

I think he might have gotten a bit offended that I laughed at him (still laughing by the way). I have gotten some odd gifts from the men I have been involved with but if any of them showed up at my door with a fruit bouquet that would be the end of that date. Red roses say "I really like you". A fruit bouquet says "Good luck Grandma with that cataract surgery" or "So sorry that sinkhole ate your car."

Brain Static

There has been so much going on I can’t even begin to see straight this week. Today at work was the group announcement to those affected that we are undergoing a reorganization”. My boss from hell is no longer my boss which is great. I did not get laid off (darn) but got reassigned to a different boss. I’ve worked with him in the past with no problem but I still want out of that company.

So I head home with a brain full of so many thoughts I feel like I have a hive of bees up there.

As I got off the train I thought

-I need to get gas oh and oj still need that book for book club what am I going to wear to the party Friday boy it’s really getting dark early it’s chilly I am definitely wearing pants tomorrow I need to send out some more resumes where are all my pants anyway I cannot believe how early I have to go to work tomorrow stupid meeting what the heck is that woman wearing I still have to do that data mapping project at work you know she is being a bitch to me where are my keys I could really go for a pizza do I have $2 for parking tomorrow god I do not want to go to work tomorrow is that my phone-

SMACK
I managed to not open the car door as wide as I thought. As I went to get into the car I smacked the left side of my jaw on the top of the door so hard I thought I had cracked a tooth. Both the real ones and the ones I paid for were fine. It hurts to open my mouth (so much for pizza). I can’t even touch that side of my face it hurts so badly. As one with jaw issues (TMJ) this is not good. Plus it will be a very oddly placed bruise.

*sigh*
So I have decided, since I have a busy weekend, to take Monday off and try to get myself back to center.