Animal Magnetism

Once I came across a puppy being walked by his owner...I was so consumed with the need to visit with the puppy that I never even looked at the owner. I couldn't tell you what he looked like, but the puppy was a bulldog mix of some sort. When I go into a resident's apartment, and they have a pet, I immediately am looking for the animal, and not paying full attention to the resident. I always get the job done, but I also make a new friend of their pet. Cats, dogs, whatever, the animal always is drawn to me just like I am to them. As I sit here, nursing my cat wounds that I got from trying to help a stray, I really want to hear from the Emergency Vet I applied to. I know I could be good at that. And maybe, just maybe, I could meet someone who is just as passionate about their animals as I am. And maybe I could find companionship beyond my own cats. I hope they call. This is something that has to happen soon, I have to get the ball rolling if I'm going to make it to Africa. And look how happy I am when I'm with the animals! It's just meant to be.

Groundhog Day

Life here at the retirement community, as it were, is like the movie Groundhog Day. The same things happen daily, the same comments, the same stories, everything the same and it is wearing on me. I find myself trying to tune things out more and more and it makes me feel guilty because I genuinely care about the health and happiness, however, if I have to listen to these stories for much longer, my head will explode. I'm so tired. I applied to an Emergency Vet Clinic today, with a cover letter telling them about my plans for Africa and how I need the experience to help me with my future career. And truly, I DO need the experience. I do not have time to volunteer right now and can't afford it if I did. It's a part time position, so I have made it clear that I have to make at least $15 an hour in order to live. I hope I get a call back before I drive my car off a cliff.

To Age or Not to Age?

As anyone who actually reads my blog, I work with senior citizens and often, they advise me to "never get old". As I settle into my thirties, I am starting to notice the subtle changes that come with time; eye baggage, skin that actually looks better with special anti-aging creams. I find myself staring at my face in the mirror, doing the all-too-cliché pulling up and pulling back of my facial and neck skin, wondering where the my youth went? Does it actually disappear, or get passed on to the next generation? Does the stress of each day actually kill it? They say that energy never actually dies, and that when our bodies die, the energy continues to move around. Is that the same of beauty and youth? What exactly happens to our collagen and pigment? Science would have us believe that we are nothing but a combination of water and energy and some other combination of cells and such, so why is it that with age, we lose these things that make us appealing to other people, as well as to our own vanity? Some theologians would tell us that we lose our beauty and energy because Eve took a bite out of the forbidden apple and getting old is our punishment. Other theologians would have us thank god for such a long life and consider death as the ultimate payment for the original sin. I personally, do not believe in Genesis, as it holds no logic. I mean, if God didn't want Eve to eat the forbidden fruit, then why make it a big, juicy apple? Why not make it the forbidden Okra? But I digress. It isn't a question of WHY we age and die, but why it is necessary to guarantee such a long, drawn out life? I keep hearing my residents telling me how awful it is getting old, the aching, the drooping, the sagging, the loss of the control over your body AND mind. Who wants that? Maintenance...that's all it is. Already, at the age of 31, I've been maintaining my skin, my hair, my weight (trying at least) and my energy level. It's downhill from here. The skin sags, the hair thins, the weight STAYS, and the energy somehow escapes. I smoke my cigarettes to keep from being mean or getting too hungry. People tell me to quit smoking because it will decrease my lifespan, and I don't see the reasons to want to live to be 90...or even 100! Your bones get weak and brittle, your brain gets dull and your memory fades, and then what exactly are you living for? Awaiting the inevitable hip brake? Looking forward to forgetting your closest friends? And for people like me, Spinsters who do not plan on marrying or having offspring, then what? Live to be 100 years old, alone and forgotten?

Don't get me wrong, readers. I do not wish to die now, I'm only saying that I'm not afraid of death the way that other's are afraid of death. I don't want to die by a serial killer or of cancer, simply because I want a better story for my obituary. I hope to meet my demise in Africa, doing something I'm passionate about, rather than rotting away with old age. Oh don't worry, I will still try to maintain what youth I have left, I will pay for the anti-aging cream and diet pills and shiny shampoo...for a while longer. But my legacy will not be to try to defy the nature of aging, but it will also not be to defy death. Somewhere in the middle is where I belong. I will, however, mourn my loss of youth, at least every now and again...until this body rots and my energy moves on.

The Backstabbing Bitch

It seems to me that my boss had a plan...give her more work, she will throw a fit, and then we can fire her...ah, but I foiled their nefarious plan with enthusiasm. I believe that my boss is under the impression that I am after her job...Quite the contrary... I would rather be a janitor, than manage a place like this. So many issues and way too corporate to care enough to fix those issues. A certain resident did raise an interesting point, however, saying that the culprit of all these changes is a backstabbing bitch...OK, "backstabbing bitch" is my name for her, but she made the point, all the same. Yes, she is very sweet and cute, and asks me to do extra stuff and then checks, possibly even tries to sabotage my work...oh yes, I'm on the lookout for little things left in just the spot that I may not notice...I find them, suck them up with the vacuum or wipe them off. Yes, keep trying though backstabbing bitch, I will outsmart you every time. I wonder if there is anymore I can do to fool them into thinking I am being SUPER cooperative?? I'm sure I will think of something...already tonight I had to fix an bed sheet incident the backstabbing bitch overlooked. I fixed it and told the resident to tell the boss. Yes, I should definitely take this off my "Favorites". I will be focusing on this conspiracy and updating periodically...it's important not to get too comfortable. I'm totally up for the battle of wits...Backstabbing Bitch vs. The Spinster. It's on!

Shout it From the Mountain Top!

My work sucks. There it has been written! I'm pretty sure that they are trying to weed us out, totally unaware that there are no other jobs...OR, they are doing whatever they want with us because they KNOW there are no other jobs. Either way they are all evil republicans who make far more money than any of us and like to show it off by making us feel small and insignificant. Ah yes, authority. My "superiors" also added several extra hours of work per night, all of which I have to find time to do after the doors are locked. It's not the extra work that bothers me, it's the tone in which it was given to me. As if I'm not doing my part or pulling my weight. Little do they know that there are so many other things that I do here, that are not on the checklist, stuff I just do, for the residents, for my co-workers, even for the families of the residents. They all call on me, and I do it without needing acknowledgment or reward. Does that make me noble? Or does that make me a fool?
Yes, my work has had me sign a new Employee Handbook and there was a whole section on "blogging" and what NOT to say and such. Oh how I would love to shout their company name from the mountain tops and tell everyone how fascist they really are! It also read in the handbook that makeup should look natural and no tattoos should show, hair color should be natural...well! I have a big tattoo showing as I write, and dark red lips. Our bartender has a nose piercing and pink hair. And don't get me started on the boss's makeup. Nothing natural about that, let ME tell YOU. Cleopatra wore less makeup. Man that feels so good. I will have to delete this link off of this work computer now that i've begun talking shit...and oh yes, this IS only the beginning. If they want to treat me like a slave, so be it, I need them, there is no denying it, and I will quietly do my job, and be agreeable. But here, I am allowed to be myself and say what I need to say. I am the spinster. This is MY blog. In the mean time, I need to find something to hit or kick. I'm very pissed off.

What NOW?

I talked to my very first boss today, from when I worked at a music store when I was 16 and we chatted for a while...then I suggested we go get a cup of coffee to catch up... He asked if I was single??? I think he took that as a "let's go get a drink/have a date" sort of thing. S'not good. I'm not trying to date him or anything...I just wanted to catch up with someone I admired. Can the spinster turn this in the direction she wants?! I think I can. Honesty works well. Just as long as it works better than the alcohol. God it's frustrating when you comes to terms with the fact that you are no longer a cool chick to the men in your life, but rather a possible fuck. I got this. I can handle it. Can't I?

The Darkness

Once upon a time, a child was born. She was happy, healthy and apparently loved being alive. She celebrated birthdays and Christmas and enjoyed drawing unicorns and flowers. She had two parents who loved her and gave her a brother to play with and eventually torture, as it should be. Shortly following her eigth birthday however, a darkness fell over her. One day changed her life forever. Her grandparents came for a visit and to drop of LOADS of apples in the old red Dodge Ram. She lined up as usual and was helping to unload the truck. Everyone went inside but her grandfather and her. There was something he needed from her. He walked toward her, took her hand and pulled it toward him, she didn't understand until he pulled it toward his trouser zipper...he gripped her wrist tightly, and she was very confused but then she pulled away and ran inside. She pondered what had just occurred for a few minutes and came to the conclusion that she may have misunderstood. She went inside the house where all the family was, most everyone was in the kitchen making dinner and gossiping about other people's lives. She saw her grandfather sitting on the couch alone and was unsure of how to deal with the incident. She heard her grandfather say to her "Mija, come and sit next to me." Being the good, obedient girl she was, she went and sat next to her grandfather. He put his arm around her, she felt slightly uncomfortable due to the previous encounter with him, but she must have imagined it all....as she is thinking this, her grandfather puts his arm around her, at first, laying his hand on her shoulder, then, as everyone in the house is distracted and congregated in the kitchen, he readjusts himself into another position, and reaches his hand to her adolescent, blossoming breast. He grips it, and squeezes it. She knows that this isn't supposed to be happening and doesn't know what to do. The darkness falls. She tries to pull away from her, as he tries to hold her near him. She tells him "let me go!" He fears being caught and lets her leave. She runs to the kitchen to get her mother. Her mom is busy cooking and tells her to wait a minute. She goes to her room and closes the door. The darkness falls. No longer was she innocent and happy. Now her whole world had become scary and sad. Life no longer was good. From then on, she spends her recess period roaming the soccer field at her elementary school, crying. She cries in the shower before school, she cries whenever no one is looking. The story goes and it goes. From that point, that one day, her world starts. Her dark world, where not even your grandparents can be trusted. She grows into a young woman. She experiences what most girls' experience with the rampant hormones flowing through her body, but cannot let anyone too close. They cannot be trusted. Her first kiss is not special. Her first boyfriend is just someone who she makes out with at lunch time who abandons her then comes back...toxic. High school is just four years of crushing on boys who she would run from if they tried to approach. She has grown into a woman. She knows she needs to cross the threshold of sex. If she doesn't, this may last forever, the darkness. So she finds the one person who can be trusted. He helps her out, and after, she feels free. She isn't. Now, she is going to run away from him, she is going to find others', untrustworthy men who deserve to feel the way she feels. She will love them, she will leave them, she will not acknowledge they exist, let alone, that she has given herself to them. This will go on and on. Man after man, they all deserve to feel rotten. She is in control and taking revenge. Her grandfather is dead. She watched him die. She wanted to tell him how much she hated him. But she didn't. So instead, she would show every man how much she hated him. Darkness. She would wake up the morning after and feel the self-loathing. She hated herself, but she couldn't stop herself. Alcohol brought her monster out into the open, looking for it's next victim. It was insatiable. No matter how much pain she caused others, her monster was never satisfied. She eventually went to therapy, thanks to her mother, who had seen the monster, but not at it's worst. The monster went to sleep, but didn't go away. She spent several years without it...mostly...attaching herself to another toxic man that she felt that she needed to survive. One day, the monster woke up. This man had to go. He was unhealthy for the monster. He only fueled her disappointment in men, but the monster was overtaking her. She knew she needed out, but was afraid of who she would become. Now, she is your author. She is conflicted, always fighting with the monster. She wants to be healthy, she wants to be happy, but she knows she never will see the lightness. The darkness will always loom over her. And the monster is always hungry for it's next victim. She doesn't know any life before that one day with the apples. No memories of being a child. No memories of birthdays or Christmas's' or innocence. Her life began when the darkness fell.

Could it be? A crush?

Well, it certainly doesn't feel like any crush I've had in the past. Perhaps that is a good thing? I definitely feel desire, but I'm not sure if it's HIM I desire, or just someone. We seem to have a lot in common, he's nerdy and smart, he's funny, he has a good job, a place to live, no car- by choice, but it's something I can deal with. However, there are no butterflies, no wondering what he is doing or what he is thinking, if I have a question I need to ask him, I just ask him and he answers. It's a foreign world. I feel like either this is something that could be fun for a while, just for now, or it could be something that is fun for a month. But I don't see it going beyond fun. He's already planning our dates as if we will be having them and I don't feel anything. I can't figure out if I am enjoying the uncomplicated way of this whole thing, or if I just don't have it in me to have an actual crush. See? Just now, I thought of my last crush and my stomach did a very small flip...with this guy, there is no flip. Is that good? Is that bad? Is it just what it is? I hope I can feel the crush thing again. Maybe it will just take personal contact...sure. Why not?

A Momentary Lapse of Memory

I had an exciting moment. I was trying, for some reason to remember his last name, and I couldn't for the life of me remember it...I eventually did, but I was so happy that I am starting to forget him. Thank you God! Or whomever!

The Two Me's

I wonder if my brain is like every other brain out there? I feel like I have two people inside my head and they are in a constant state of disagreement. I need to brush my teeth...OK that's better. Some people are lucky in love, they are natural at it, even if the person they love doesn't love them back, they are always still in love. I think I used to be like that, I always was falling in love. Now, after a year and a half of being single again, I just don't feel anything. OK, that once I was crushing pretty hard, but since then, I don't even crush anymore. What if I'm here in this lonely place forever? Or even worse, what if I DO fall in love again? Will the baggage I have accumulated take it's place and sabotage anything that stands a chance? Will I become just like the boy I resented for bringing his baggage into our relationship? And if I escape the inevitable baggage scenario, when will I finally be able to move on and not compare people to him? When can I get rid of him altogether? God I'm so fucking tired of him invading my life, through my own head! I just want to feel something good again, without being afraid that it will blow up in my face and hurt me again! And aside from that, the relationship was a HORRIBLE relationship, so why am I mourning it? AM I mourning it? Or am I just really bitter from it? It was a good, no a great thing that I got out of it, and such a huge waste of my time, of my life, is that what makes me so angry? Or am I actually upset that our plans didn't work out, because it would have been so, incredibly horrible if I had moved with him. What the hell is my problem, anyway? Do you see what I'm saying about the two people arguing inside my head? One is pissed off that it didn't work out and the other is thanking god that it didn't. One wants to love again and one is scared to death to love again. One wishes my old crush all the happiness with his wife and the other desparately wants him to get divorced so I can have him. This goes for most aspects of life. Always in disagreement. Always.

Am I a stalker or just a curious party?

I googled my one crush I've had since my breakup, found his latest twitters about how his wife had roast beef on the table when he got home and blah blah blah. One one hand, I'm happy that he's happy and that the marriage was saved, but on the other, I'm secretly wishing the whole thing would come crashing down so he would become available. "Does it all come down to the thing one girl fears in the night? Is another girl's paradise." Yes, I believe that it does. I wouldn't have wanted a serious relationship with him, I would have just wanted someone to have some fun with, and then I would have gotten bored and moved on, but still...I can't help being a little jealous, considering I came close to catching a great guy.

My hair is now very short, I'm done putting on makeup and tweezing all my body and face hair, I'm so tired of the maintenance of being a girl. I plan on getting some skin products so I can get away with no makeup, which in itself is vanity at it's best, but I can only so fast with this giving up my vanity. It takes time to learn not to care.

Why is Love Such a Great Tease?

If anyone has been reading my blog, you will notice that I've gone from wanting and needing love, to being conflicted with what our society considers traditional love. For one moment I'm craving that passion that comes with new love, but at the same time have a great disdain for the obligation that comes with traditional love. I would like to find love again, but do not want the obligation to call everyday or make time for someone...I don't have the desire for monogamy, I'm not necessarily in need of multiple partners, but passion only survives for a short period of time, and I don't think I should have to sacrifice the best part of love just to be bombarded by tedium of obligation and monogamy. Why does love tease us with passion and butterflies and heat, and then dull after a little while and eventually end up being boring? I don't want boring, I don't want dull, I want hot, pure passion, all the time with the entire relationship. I've heard of people being really great lovers and then they get married and the fire goes out, but can it be possible that nature causes the same game? I want someone to play with, to converse with, to stimulate me mentally and physically, and I want that stimulation to last. Am I asking for too much? Do I have to either accept the inevitable monotony that relationships turn into, or do I have to jump from person to person to keep the passion alive? What are my options exactly? Is comfort important enough to me to sacrifice passion? Does anyone really know? What happens if I cannot accept having to sacrifice passion for comfort? Do I end up a solitary creature? A "lone wolf" as it were? I feel like an outsider from my fellow females, because I do not want marriage and kids, or monogamy and a dull life. Virginia Woolf killed herself, partly from madness, but I believe, partly from boredom...so what now?

The Ever Restless Intellectual Woman

I watched a really powerful movie last night called The Hours. Meryl Streep, Julianne Moore and Nicole Kidman. Nicole Kidman played Virginia Woolf and had a fake nose on and didn't look anything like herself. I attached a picture of her. It was a brilliant and sad movie, but I am amped and inspired by Virginia Woolf at the same time. Shirley is going to give me a copy of one of her books to read.

It's amazing that no matter what time period, as we are learning about the lives of women over the centuries, women are always restless and repressed, and thus unhappy, and all to do with our expected roles in life. It makes me feel like all these years of feeling similar, being sure I didn't want to be the wife and mother everyone expected of me, but being unsure of what I actually did want to do with my life because I always seemed ,eventually, to get bored and restless, I feel a little calmer knowing that women like me have been feeling the same way forever.

Unfortunately, those of us who are not looking to be wives or mothers seem to be stifled by those specific expectations by our mothers and the men in our lives, whether it is our fathers, brothers, uncles, cousins or boyfriends. I am not the marrying kind, no desire what-so-ever to sign my life away to someone else. Nor am I willing to sacrifice myself for a child. I consider child bearing as a death sentence and I choose to survive, at least for now. I cannot imagine a time when I will be unselfish enough to give that much of myself away. I have more important things to do, and the rest of the world seems to have the whole procreation thing under control.

I choose to be creative, everyone else can sacrifice their mediocre minds for mediocre lives.

Thank you spirit guides and thank you S.F.

Finally after wondering for many years of my life, I was able to get a spiritual reading thanks to S.F. and her gift certificate, and at a time when I really needed and appreciated it. I will never forget this.

For a long time now, I've been trying to figure out what i'm supposed to be doing with my life...work, love, animals, everything has been at a standstill for about a year. Ever since my break up, my inner compass has been in a strange vortex, sending me in several directions at once. First thing, as soon as I sat down and relaxed, my shaman said that she saw a totem pole and my spirit guides wanted me have a feather for future prayer and guidance. Apparently I have native blood in me from somewhere and probably was a priestess in another life.

I asked M about my parents, having not heard from them in two days while they were in Mexico, and making myself sick with worry. She assured me that they were ok, frustrated but safe and that my brother was much less stressed. My dad's blood pressure is high which makes sense and that they didn't have access to a phone. I got an email from my mom and she said she won't be calling again before they came home, i'm curious to see if that is why.

My cat, Spike, has some genetic disorder that is making his brain lazy...he needs mental stimulation and is craving fish. So flashlights and fish it is!

I will have two great passions in my life, one will be work, something to do with medicine and animals, as planned, but not planned, there will be a man, who gives me space to do this.

We'll see. All in all it was a great experience.

Thanks

Sunny Days and Epiphanies

The sun is finally out, the old people are soaking it up and are in desperate need of the vitamin D and whatever else the sun provides. Sometimes I think we even benefit from the ultraviolet rays. The scientists don't really know, do they? It's all theory. Besides, they say it ages us, but aren't we supposed to age? Yes, I believe that IS the plan. We are born, we age, we die. So great sun god, bring on your UV rays. Oh wait, I'm actually not outside enjoying the sun, I'm inside sneezing, and blowing my nose and rubbing my itchy eyes. The sun brings out flowers, flowers give off beautiful smells, those smells are caused by pollen. I am allergic to pollen. How unfair that I am not allowed to enjoy a beautiful spring day without suffering for it. Hmm? Suffering for the sake of pleasure. Who was that dude who just walked through the building? Focus!
So I spent the day with T out in the sticks, and it was COLD! Very cold indeed. We obviously had to help each other out by heating things up. I think I had the experience of a born again virgin, because there was similar pain to the first time. That dude just walked by again. --Anyway, so that was that and after my 5th and his 2nd orgasm (ha-ha, I got more.) we realized that condom that he demanded to use had disappeared. That could be considered the "Magic Hat Trick" but I did not appreciate it, as it was no where to be found, which could only mean one thing, there was only one place left it could have disappeared to. Yes, indeed, it had invaded my insides! Explains the pain, but defeated the purpose of using it at all. (Since I didn't want to use one, I say again Ha-ha!) So I went to the bathroom and had to find it and remove it, and proceeded to bleed a while and cramp for a couple of days. But at during that fiasco of realizing how messy and comical sex actually is, I rediscovered my natural ability to disconnect from it, in a healthy way, rather than an obsessive way. After K, I had a hard time because for me, sex was something two people did to express their love for each other...before K, it was just something I did to prove I could. Finally, after so many years of struggling with it, and after a year of being single, I finally can do it and not over analyze it! It's amazing. I feel like I've finally blossomed into a functional woman, I got my snuggle time, I got my T time, I got my orgasm time, I got my OR time and as I drove home, listening to Tori Amos, the epitome of womanhood, I felt powerful and put together. Not in a destructive way, where I wanted to be in control of T, or in a helpless way where I submitted myself to him, (as I did the last time I was there) but rather, I felt powerful over myself, and my own sexuality. It's a glorious feeling to finally have figured it out. The cramping and bleeding and surgery was totally worth it. And thanks to T for sticking with me, helping me to realize that this IS in fact possible. We can still be us, close friends and lovers without making it into something stressful and unhappy. It's truly wonderful and I'm in a good place now. I think life can move forward now without so many fucking questions. Halle-fucking-luhah.

To be or not to be?

Writing for the sake of writing. It's what I have to force myself to do on occasion when I don't have anything to legitimately complain about. There are many things that go through my head, but not much goes through my heart anymore. I feel like I'm disconnected from life, I just wake up and go through the motions until I can go back to sleep. It sounds totally unhealthy, but I swear I don't actually have anything to give a shit about at the moment. I'm going to see T this weekend, maybe that will put some spark back in my life, but it can't be allowed to put too much spark, for fear of obsession. Why am I such an extreme person? Is it really necessary to be so dramatic? Either I care too much, or don't care at all? And when I don't care at all, it makes me feel guilty for it. When I care too much, I try like hell to not care. Hmm? I need to find something I'm passionate about. I need to feel something again. I think my next job, whenever I decide to leave my seniors, will be working with animals. I am getting to be too jaded when it comes to losing people, and death in general. I don't fear it the way other people do, I expect it sooner rather than later. Not saying that I want to die, I just am fully aware than I am going to, so why fear the inevitable? It's silly to fear death. And yet, I struggle to get healthy and stop smoking, and for what? I guess, I don't want to be a statistic as far as dying of diabetes or lung cancer...oh no, that just wouldn't be fittin'. I want to go out with a bang...not a shotgun bang, but a good story...like a snakebite or cougar attack. Whenever I think about doomsday, (and I do quite often), I always imagine surviving it to see what the world looks like after. To be totally alone except for someone across the world who also thinks they are the only one left. With my disdain for society, I wonder if I would miss it? If I would get lonely and search out other survivors? Or would I finally be content with some fucking peace and quiet? Would I have better or worse writing material without anyone stimulating me with their nonsense? At this point, I feel like I need to be away from people and would welcome Apocalypse, but then there are always times when it's nice to see someone smile and laugh. I don't know what I want or don't want...what I feel or don't feel. I only know I'm not happy now and I don't know how to fix it.

Only Desire

The only thing I miss about a relationship with another person is the desire for them. I don't feel that hardly at all anymore. I don't feel the need to make connections with people who I'm going to hurt or abandon. What is the point, exactly?

I am just trying to protect myself. But desire, I miss desire. I miss being desired, I miss desiring someone. I miss the desire to drop everything and get in my car. Although, even if I had the desire, there really isn't anyone to drive to. Hmm...a dilemma.

Beyond Nostalgia...this is Humility

Recently I've been reconnecting through the likes of Facebook and Myspace, and at first it was just simply fun to find people I used to know and lost touch with. Today, however, the person who found me on Facebook made something else happen...it went beyond nostalgia...a person who I was so close to for a long time, and then just drifted apart from. That happens, I know that. This, however, is a different situation. This person truly missed me when I drifted away. She went on with life and had a lot of experiences, as I did, but when she found me, she made me realize how important she was to me back then, and how I so easily allowed that relationship to become one of those lost relationships. But alas! She forgave me, didn't think anything of it, and it has humbled me a little. I realized that some friendships, such as this one, and several others are unique in that they are established. Carved in wood, like one of those hanging signs over a business. They don't end, they only pause and I'm thrilled for that. Over the years, I felt like so many people have come and gone and that is that...but...you ready for this, cause it doesn't happen often...I WAS WRONG. Yes, there it is. I have always treasured my relationships with true friends, but I had no idea how many I actually had. I feel slightly peaceful for the first time in a very long time. Thanks M.

Wish I wasn't here...

My mother needs me, as much, if not more than the people at my work do...and yet, I cannot be with her. It's making me uncomfortable and anxious.

I'm bored. I'm tired. I need a drink. And there doesn't seem to be an end in sight. Can't I just take a month off work to be home with my mom? No, not unless I want to risk losing my job. FUCK. This is frustrating.

I hate when I hate life.

At the end of the day...

Today one of my residents had declared that she is at her end. I find it difficult to really process it until I absolutely have to, and have a chance to be alone and be myself. While at work, I'm forced to find the balance between being sympathetic and being professional, and at these moments it is easier to simply block it completely. Of course, being around the family of these people I've grown to care so much about, creates further difficulty in that I'm not sure what they expect from me. I had a chance to say goodbye to Rosemary and tell her how much she means to me, which is good, but being around her daughters is harder because I want to comfort them, but as a professional in this business, I have to keep my composure, but I'm wondering if that makes me seem cold. There's no easy solution to this dilemma. I offer my help and company, and that is really all I can do. I go on about my day, without telling my other residents what is going on, and then wondering who will be offended that I did not tell them, if Rosemary passes on during the night and they didn't get the chance to say goodbye. I guess, I will wait and see.

Bring Me My Dinner, Bitch!

The dynamic of the married couple is astounding to me. I watch my senior citizen couples who have been married since the stone age and at first, they seem sweet and gives a spinster like me hope that marriage can work and be wonderful. But then, as time passes by, I realize that these couples who are still married are, in fact, just as a close friend of mine describes every relationship. There is the controller and the controlled. Generally, it seems the woman is the controller, and the man the controlled. But that is because the majority of people in this place are women, and therefore, an accurate study is not possible. The widows all claim that their husbands were saints, wonderful men who took very good care of them. But the couples who are still both alive and together have a different story. The resentment is very apparent in these couples. Imagine being controlled for 60 years of your life by one person. For some people, this relationship could be a parent, but for most it is a spouse. I'm not sure if the controller experiences as much resentment as the controlled, but it is definitely there. I only know three couples, at this point in my life, who seem to have it together right now, although, if I look closer, the signs of inevitable resentment is sprouting in all three. I wonder, if "T" is right? If we had another relationship, he says I would be the controller, even though, I am pretty submissive in general, and so is he, but he claims he would submit to being controlled. I am pretty damn positive that I do not want anything to do with that dynamic. He says that it is just the way things progress when you label a relationship as boyfriend/girlfriend, and then fiancees, and then husband/wife, that as those labels are placed, the relationship turns into the controller/controlled dynamic. Why does a healthy relationship between two people who care for one another have to morph into the less extreme version of master and slave? Is there a way to be with the person you love without letting it evolve into a resentful, drawn out path of unhappiness? The last time I tried, I played the slave role, I was under the control of someone else, and am struggling to find my footing now. I would not be any happier if I were the controller, because I think that a relationship should be an equal partnership of two people who want to be around each other. But no matter how many books I read, and how many hopeful couples I come across, I see the same thing over and over and it makes me want to avoid it all and remain the spinster that I am. Then again, to remain in the same place all the time is to stunt evolution of the human mind, and we can't have that. My goal, aside from finding an apartment that won't suck me dry financially, is to figure out how to make a good thing last, and not let it fall into that pattern of resentment and inevitable disdain for your life partner, and all that unhappy shit. It seems like a grueling task, but I have to try...to be continued...