I'm pretty sure November 2008 marked the beginning of the Chinese calendar's Year of the Mother Fucker. Because it was. Definitely one of the hardest years that I can remember. So much bullshit, SO MUCH. I found myself constantly looking side to side, shaking my fists towards the heavens, in a "Are you fucking joking me?!" manner. A whole year of it. But it didn't come without some personal growth, even if it was learned the hard way. Anyway.

I feel good. I'm taking a week off for the first time in over a year. I found a boy who may be "the one." We're adventuring-camping-traipsing our way to Utah and back for some camping, hiking, not-being-in-stupid-Iowa time. Ah, it's going to be refreshing. Also, I no longer give a rat's ass about my job (HDC, the original, not job #2, which is tapering). It has made all the difference. I've been fairly uptight and micro-managing everything for the past (almost 3?!!) years. And I realize, no one cares. No one cares, and it's not making a difference. That is extremely freeing.

Things aren't perfect. I'm still over-worked. Mom still has cancer. I still have a hole of a condo that is a money pit. But. Things are getting better. My sister and her crew are moving out. Yes, that means I have more to pay. But...it might just be worth it. There is a lot to be said for peace of mind and sacred personal space. I am also realizing that I don't have to work so hard. It's okay to take time off. There's a lot to be said for peace of mind and sacred personal time. And it's nice to have this guy around. He's not perfect. He does get on my nerves at times. But, there is potential and like-mindedness that makes me actually want to try and work through it, instead of just moving on to the next 2-month-it's-fun-until-I'm-bored 'ship. I'm slightly inspired. And my ankle is healing up slowly. I've placed in the last 2 races I've done, which is highly motivating, even though I hate competitive running. I just need to find the balance with my time. Too much work keeps me busy, and thus, not shuffling around the house all lonely and depressed. However, it also does not allow me to explore my interests, like running, vegan/healthy cooking, reading, educating myself, etc. Baaaaaalance. I've always had a hard time with this word. All or nothing. Anyway, I digress.

I think November 2009 is going to be the end of this horrible past year, and the start of something better. At least, it better be.

On a side note, I want to be Octo-Mom for Halloween, how can I fake those lips, short of botox?!

Heavy with sleep, drifting in and out, I awoke to the words: "If it weren't such a high-mileage word, I would have said 'love by now.' That fucking whipped me right out of sleep. The usual panic attack...then...a smile. And a warming. I didn't detach, I didn't run, I'm not freaking. I.like.this.boy. I think this guy is the first, since the Turk (...and the Greek...), that has potential. As in, I'm not just entertaining myself or hanging out because I'm bored. I'm stimulated. In an "as iron sharpens iron" type of way (to borrow a biblical reference. I know, I know. But it's perfect).

He's a vegetarian (I just started a vegan phase...I'm calling it Experiment V-D (Vegan Dare). It's a challenge and forcing me to approach what I eat and how I eat it from a new perspective. I'm cooking again and I love it). He does Farmer's Market with me. We bike and run for miles. He's neurotic as hell (whilst in the middle of a conversation on zombies, he sheepishly showed me his rugby bat hidden behind his headboard). He's smart. He's funny. He has his nipples pierced (okay, that one kind of threw me. I mean, what does that say about a man? And it's totally unexpected, given his essence. Unexpected is hot.) And on and on and on. Yes, it's premature, but he gives me hope. Maybe I'm not going to die alone as a crazy cat lady after all. I'll refrain from further gushing.

In other news, in addition to the 60-80 hours I work a week, I gleefully took on a part-time position as a caseworker for World Relief, an organization I've been volunteering with for the last 3 years. It's a group that helps to resettle refugees and I love it. It's stretches me and shocks my world daily, but it's something I'm passionate about, given my past as a foreigner in another country (minus the living-in-a-refugee-camp-being-raped-and-pillaged perspective). Love it. But 90-100 hours a week? Too much. Who knew? I'm not superwoman, a hard thing to admit. The topper?

My mom has cancer. Fairly early, but cancer, nonetheless. Chemo, the whole lot. So, one job will have to go. And World Relief just offered me a full-time position. The logical choice, no? Given my love for the job, and my increasing bitterness in the night job? But, it's about $5000/year less (though only 40 hours a week). Benefits not so good. And those are working day hours, not getting paid to sleep at times. Oh, and the worst part? Ok, ok, I'm a hot mess inside at times. And this job gives me panic attacks...having to be responsible for so much, having to push myself in uncomfortable situations, etc. Panicky panic, at times. And, it's exhausting. Physically and emotionally. I would end up working more than 40 hrs. per week (though not getting paid). Why? Basic human needs. This week a family arrived from Nepal with flip-flops, capris, and tank tops...and it snowed Saturday. I'd never be able to say "Well, sorry, my 40 hours are up," you'll have to freeze til Monday. And, the other 5 people on staff are all approaching burn-out very, very quickly. I'm pretty sure one is on crack too.

Mentally, it disorganizes me beyond repair. In the last month, I've forgotten to show up for jury duty, gotten a speeding ticket, forgotten to pay my credit card bill for the first time in  my life, randomly found a jar of cumin in my purse, forgotten to turn in a timecard, etc. etc. etc. -- All very out of character. I feel like I'm over-extended (well, know it), but, in such a way that I'm really not being effective towards anyone.

So, there's that.

Oh, sister got married July 1st. Thanks for the fucking warning, I never would have bought money-pit-condo, had I had any inkling. She, bro-in-law, and nephew are living at the condo. Which is okay, since I'm never there. Then, Noah, my nephew, ran in the other day with a t-shirt that says "I'm the big brother." Oh fuck. I'm ducking, I can already feel the hormones flying. And her husband is leaving for the National Guard in January. Is there anyone in my life who doesn't need to be taken care of? Oh, new boy. Hmmm...I just hope this-new-possible-relationship isn't just a psychological escape. Which I've admittedly done before.

Sigh. I think that's everything. Oh, and the fact my condo has been flooding non-stop since April (home disclosure box that said 'Ever flooded?' ... checked NO. Fucker. The lawyer $1800 then $200/hr..... and he's a dickhead).

Yes, yes. I need a mental break. Like a month off to climb a mountain and go Zen with my Vegan snacks and kitty in a backpack.

I'm done complaining now, I just needed a good vent. Ah. Better already.