My hair is cut and gorgeous. I have the dress. I have the gown. Going to decorate my cap with a giant yellow 'X' for Cathy so she knows where I am during the whole thing.
One week from this Saturday I'll be walking at my college graduation. It doesn't feel real at all. I feel like I've just been on an extremely long hiatus. I don't think I even have friends anymore who will still be in college. Save for a couple friends getting their masters and my cousin and sisters. We are all seriously old.
But I don't feel old. I feel really young. Like, finishing college means the beginning of my life. This is probably because I have despised grades and schoolwork mixing in with my home and work life. It will be interesting to see how much of a difference real life will be from school life. How much of my work will seep into my off-hours time for myself? Will working feel like how it has been working for my other jobs (i.e. retail, daycare, etc.) or will it feel like an adult high school?
My aunt mentioned an opportunity recently that I said I would definitely be interested in. It has nothing to do with writing but the job sounds fun and interesting. Something completely different from what I've done in the past which, honestly, is more of what I've been looking for than probably anything else.
I have a ton of babysitting jobs lined up this month- mostly with the same family who I've only just started sitting for last week. So money is coming in, just in time too because student loans will be due soon.
Single life isn't bothering me as much as it used to either. I'm still lonely but not as much. Maybe it's just because I know my family is going to be in town for two weeks and I'll be seeing friends this Friday and next. The extra babysitting jobs taking my mind off stuff I assume helps as well. Whatever it is, I hope it sticks around, at least long enough for me to make some friends in the city.
So... Life is looking good.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Screw It
Screw making friends, the longer I live with my aunt, the more I'm against getting a dog once I can. I know I'll be more likely to meet people and make friends but I just don't think the barking to go out at 2am is worth it.
Of course, I was awake anyway. I have been having trouble sleeping. There are a million little reasons why this could be happening but I'm sure one of the reasons is that I'm taking two pills a day instead of three to conserve my anxiety medication. Aunt Joy said tomorrow (today) we can pass a CVS so I can pick up a refill.
I could also use a therapy appointment. I could try making one for next Saturday and miss a meet with Grandma. Especially since I know I'm going to be seeing her more often come the following weekend. That's when I'll finally be walking at my college graduation. With it coming so quickly now, I'm looking back on everything I did to get here and, honestly, I'm not too impressed. Sure, I managed to realize I didn't want the life I would have had with C.J., I orchestrated my move to Chicago on my own, but other than that? While at school I did more of the same half-ass work I've been known for, thanks to making excuses. I've been using my anxiety as an excuse instead of an explanation. I learned this while in China, why can't I follow it? I understand old, bad habits are hard to break but... some days I'm not sure I'm making the effort. It's also a lot harder to tell now that I'm out of school. My benchmark for these things have always been the amount of schoolwork I finish, and the quality. Now I'm dog-sitting and baby-sitting and, occasionally, writing.
I want to write. I'm just not putting in the effort. I could say it's because I'm watching the dogs and I hate to leave them alone and worry about what they're doing. Mom has recently offered for me to return home where I could focus on writing. It sounds fantastic except I can't write at home. I can't write at Aunt Joy's either- I always have to leave to write somewhere else and that's a lot easier here where I can walk places. Plus, Stacey pays rent and so it would be unfair if I didn't get a job to pay as well and then I'd be in the same predicament I'm in now, working while not working on writing. Plus, loans are coming up, and with sitting dogs and kids, I can earn money while also leaving now and again to write whenever I have a moment.
I think I just found a round about way to admit what I've been thinking lately but have been too afraid to say to anyone. I don't want a job. I want to write. Aunt Joy keeps sending me possible jobs, the last two relevant but sometimes they're out of left field, and I search occasionally (and find nothing! I would like to make that clear. I'm not finding possible jobs and then not applying. I haven't yet anyway), but doing this... working randomly- I feel like I have more opportunity to focus on writing more so than I'd be able to with a real job. I'm afraid of giving up again because it will be hard. I just want to write... I feel like Laura said something like this, and yet she's not all woe-is-me like I feel I am being right now. These things need to get out, however, before they start to tear you apart inside until they burst through the seams they've created.
And what if I can't be a writer? What then? What if I can but I make, like, enough to buy food, not a place and food?
This is all so ridiculously maddening but having written all this out I think I know for sure I need to apply for these two jobs she found and really try to get them. One, I'll meet people. Two, I said at the beginning I'm having trouble focusing on writing anyway, so that's already a problem with sitting. Three, if writing can't be a career for me, I'll already have one.
Some days I just want to say "Screw it" it to life and then do... what? Take a nap? I'll just have to face it afterwards. I still have to live. I'll still have to make decisions. I still have to get somewhere, where ever that may be, doing whatever that may be. "Screwing it" isn't an option. The more time I waste ignoring it, the longer it will be until I get to where I want. Where ever that may be.
Of course, I was awake anyway. I have been having trouble sleeping. There are a million little reasons why this could be happening but I'm sure one of the reasons is that I'm taking two pills a day instead of three to conserve my anxiety medication. Aunt Joy said tomorrow (today) we can pass a CVS so I can pick up a refill.
I could also use a therapy appointment. I could try making one for next Saturday and miss a meet with Grandma. Especially since I know I'm going to be seeing her more often come the following weekend. That's when I'll finally be walking at my college graduation. With it coming so quickly now, I'm looking back on everything I did to get here and, honestly, I'm not too impressed. Sure, I managed to realize I didn't want the life I would have had with C.J., I orchestrated my move to Chicago on my own, but other than that? While at school I did more of the same half-ass work I've been known for, thanks to making excuses. I've been using my anxiety as an excuse instead of an explanation. I learned this while in China, why can't I follow it? I understand old, bad habits are hard to break but... some days I'm not sure I'm making the effort. It's also a lot harder to tell now that I'm out of school. My benchmark for these things have always been the amount of schoolwork I finish, and the quality. Now I'm dog-sitting and baby-sitting and, occasionally, writing.
I want to write. I'm just not putting in the effort. I could say it's because I'm watching the dogs and I hate to leave them alone and worry about what they're doing. Mom has recently offered for me to return home where I could focus on writing. It sounds fantastic except I can't write at home. I can't write at Aunt Joy's either- I always have to leave to write somewhere else and that's a lot easier here where I can walk places. Plus, Stacey pays rent and so it would be unfair if I didn't get a job to pay as well and then I'd be in the same predicament I'm in now, working while not working on writing. Plus, loans are coming up, and with sitting dogs and kids, I can earn money while also leaving now and again to write whenever I have a moment.
I think I just found a round about way to admit what I've been thinking lately but have been too afraid to say to anyone. I don't want a job. I want to write. Aunt Joy keeps sending me possible jobs, the last two relevant but sometimes they're out of left field, and I search occasionally (and find nothing! I would like to make that clear. I'm not finding possible jobs and then not applying. I haven't yet anyway), but doing this... working randomly- I feel like I have more opportunity to focus on writing more so than I'd be able to with a real job. I'm afraid of giving up again because it will be hard. I just want to write... I feel like Laura said something like this, and yet she's not all woe-is-me like I feel I am being right now. These things need to get out, however, before they start to tear you apart inside until they burst through the seams they've created.
And what if I can't be a writer? What then? What if I can but I make, like, enough to buy food, not a place and food?
This is all so ridiculously maddening but having written all this out I think I know for sure I need to apply for these two jobs she found and really try to get them. One, I'll meet people. Two, I said at the beginning I'm having trouble focusing on writing anyway, so that's already a problem with sitting. Three, if writing can't be a career for me, I'll already have one.
Some days I just want to say "Screw it" it to life and then do... what? Take a nap? I'll just have to face it afterwards. I still have to live. I'll still have to make decisions. I still have to get somewhere, where ever that may be, doing whatever that may be. "Screwing it" isn't an option. The more time I waste ignoring it, the longer it will be until I get to where I want. Where ever that may be.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Oh Dear
Panda needed to be groomed. It's been getting hot and it was obvious Panda was getting hot with all that fur.
So Aunt Joy and I talked about getting her groomed but Aunt Joy said that was more expensive than a cut for a person. So Aunt joy started cutting her hair... and it was one of the worst cuts I had ever seen. So today Aunt Joy decided to fix it.
When I returned from Starbucks with Aunt Joy's drink I found Panda on the kitchen table (where I at least eat, by the way) being trimmed with ginormous scissors. And Panda just laid there and let Aunt Joy do whatever she wanted to her.
Although, she did look pretty scared sometimes... Anyway, Aunt Joy did make her look better but I couldn't help but laugh most of the time. You can't see the cuts as well now that she's been washed but I think it's going to grow in very poorly. After we finished grooming her and bathing her I figured why don't we also cut her nails. The only problem is Panda has black nails so you can't see the wick and if you can't see the wick then there's a good chance you could accidentally cut the vein. Aunt Joy usually cuts their nails but had never done Panda's so I was in charge of it since I was so adamant about them being cut. So I got the clippers and measured so that I took off the least bit possible. And that's when Panda freaked. She would let you go at her with a pair of large scissors but go at her with some clippers and she yelps at you! So I was obviously freaking out because I never cut the nails. So I agreed to hold Panda while Aunt Joy tried. We finally learned what Panda will not tolerate.
I suggested we do Millie because she's the one who usually jumps up and ends up scratching me when I'm only wearing shorts anyway. And with summer practically here already I didn't want people to think I was being abused. I wanted to hold her and explained that ever since my mom accidentally cut Oliver's vein cutting his nails I have never been able to be the cutter. So I hold Millie and Aunt Joy cuts her nails. She only does one before going "Uh oh."
She barely cut one and through all the years of me being here and holding her dogs while she cut not ONCE has she messed up but I jinxed us today.
So there's blood going everywhere, I'm yelling at Aunt Joy to go get a tissue or something. She's trying to press on the nail to stop the bleeding but Millie keeps squirming and getting it on the couch. Then all of sudden Aunt Joy yells "OMG it's on your shirt!" She takes Millie from me quickly and I get up and walk over to the kitchen fairly calm. "What do I do?"
"Take it off and throw it in the sink!" she screams.
I look at her a second like she's lost her mind. Then I hurriedly take off my new white top with the sliding glass door open, giving anyone if they happened to go out on their balcony full view and drenched it. The blood came off pretty quickly and it's now laying downstairs on a towel while it dries.
What I'm trying to say is Aunt Joy was more worried about my top than her bleeding dog.
While I changed she tried to hold onto Millie and press on the wound. She held onto it for about as long as she could but Millie persisted. Then I had to take Millie out for a walk and it started bleeding again but it seems fine now.
So that was my day.... tomorrow should be much better since I'm hanging out with Sarah at May Fest but today was certainly quite a start to my weekend!
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Wednesday Excursion
So it's hot upstairs and my brain wouldn't shut up. Thankfully, I remembered I had meant to blog about my excursion today and thus have something to do downstairs to tire me out so I can return to bed.
Yesterday, I was finally able to check out the Fritz Pastry near Southport and Diversy. This place just has the most adorable sign and a huge window that shows lots of little tables which would be perfect to sit down with a friend, and a cookie, and hang out. Unfortunately, this place also has ridiculous hours. I ended up taking a picture one day with my phone and made it my background just so I'd remember the hours before making the trek over. I thought I would have to take something to go because they usually close at 1pm and I arrived at 12:45 but they've extended their hours to close at 3pm thanks to the summer weather approaching (although yesterday it felt like summer was already here).
Inside it was pretty sparse. There were only a few pastries to choose from that day, probably because it was close to closing and it was a Wednesday. There was an old man sitting down, reading a book and a younger guy in front of me with punk/hipster like style and lots of tattoos. After he left I got a better look at the cashier. He had red hair and a thick, red beard that my friend, John, would have admired greatly. He had sleeve tattoos, which I didn't get a good look at, and a hat, which, if I remember correctly (it is 3am right now), was like a modernized newsboy hat. He was really nice and helpful, answered all of my questions. They didn't have any frappuccinos, unfortunately, just coffee that could be made iced. I personally find coffee not so tasty and iced coffee plain disgusting. Thus, I ordered a Honey Bear Latte and no pastry. It turns out the place has the taxes configured into the price and a small cost me an even four dollars.
I sat down to write while I waited for my latte, sitting near the window so I could look out at pedestrians. The music playing was different. I only recognized She & Him and Steve Miller and they were using vinyl records. I know this because a box of them were sitting on the bar area.
When he brought my latte, I realized it was that drink that people snap pictures of because some baristas create images in the foam. I couldn't tell for sure if he was trying to create something when I looked at it. If he was, it was either a poorly made bird or a hand making the peace sign. The latte was good, not too bitter with a nice sweetness because of the honey.
I'll probably go back on a Saturday when, hopefully, I'll be able to try one of their cinnamon rolls. I doubt they're as good as Ann Sather's but this place is closer.
Yesterday, I was finally able to check out the Fritz Pastry near Southport and Diversy. This place just has the most adorable sign and a huge window that shows lots of little tables which would be perfect to sit down with a friend, and a cookie, and hang out. Unfortunately, this place also has ridiculous hours. I ended up taking a picture one day with my phone and made it my background just so I'd remember the hours before making the trek over. I thought I would have to take something to go because they usually close at 1pm and I arrived at 12:45 but they've extended their hours to close at 3pm thanks to the summer weather approaching (although yesterday it felt like summer was already here).
I sat down to write while I waited for my latte, sitting near the window so I could look out at pedestrians. The music playing was different. I only recognized She & Him and Steve Miller and they were using vinyl records. I know this because a box of them were sitting on the bar area.
When he brought my latte, I realized it was that drink that people snap pictures of because some baristas create images in the foam. I couldn't tell for sure if he was trying to create something when I looked at it. If he was, it was either a poorly made bird or a hand making the peace sign. The latte was good, not too bitter with a nice sweetness because of the honey.
I'll probably go back on a Saturday when, hopefully, I'll be able to try one of their cinnamon rolls. I doubt they're as good as Ann Sather's but this place is closer.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Tales of Poop and Pee
So I've decided I can't have dogs or kids and be a single parent. I've been in charge of sitting my aunt's dogs for over a month now and I still have a hard time getting myself to do basic things. There are two things I can't do (or have a hard time doing) while alone with the dogs:
1. showering (there is always some type of poop or pee in the house afterward)
2. leave the house (again, there is an accident somewhere and if the baby gate to the downstairs has fallen, it's probably on my bath mat)
I become so anxious just when I think about doing these things. For instance, I haven't had a shower in a reasonable amount of time and feel absolutely gross and disgusting right now but I came down the stairs to poop at the bottom of the stairs and am now deterred from showering. The bath mat in my bathroom downstairs already has pee on it but I refused to pick it up because I knew I had to go to the grocery store and take Duffie to the vet which meant Panda would probably have an "accident" down there again. Sure enough, when I returned from the vet the gate was down. I haven't checked the damage yet.
Adding to that, at some point during the night (I'm only guessing), someone is peeing in front of the linen closet. That one I'm unsure who's responsible yet. A couple nights ago went upstairs to bed and found poop in the upstairs bathroom, as well as pee, pee in front of the linen closet, and poop in the spare bedroom. The spare bedroom is Duffie's former spot so now even the most trained dog is acting up.
Can you imagine if I had a kid? I mean, sure, I wouldn't leave the child alone but what about a shower? I'd be too afraid something might happen. I suppose I could change to shower before bed while the child is asleep.. but seriously, I don't know if I could handle the stress on my own.
Basically what I'm saying is, I think I'm going to be the crazy cat lady because they are so low maintenance.
1. showering (there is always some type of poop or pee in the house afterward)
2. leave the house (again, there is an accident somewhere and if the baby gate to the downstairs has fallen, it's probably on my bath mat)
I become so anxious just when I think about doing these things. For instance, I haven't had a shower in a reasonable amount of time and feel absolutely gross and disgusting right now but I came down the stairs to poop at the bottom of the stairs and am now deterred from showering. The bath mat in my bathroom downstairs already has pee on it but I refused to pick it up because I knew I had to go to the grocery store and take Duffie to the vet which meant Panda would probably have an "accident" down there again. Sure enough, when I returned from the vet the gate was down. I haven't checked the damage yet.
Adding to that, at some point during the night (I'm only guessing), someone is peeing in front of the linen closet. That one I'm unsure who's responsible yet. A couple nights ago went upstairs to bed and found poop in the upstairs bathroom, as well as pee, pee in front of the linen closet, and poop in the spare bedroom. The spare bedroom is Duffie's former spot so now even the most trained dog is acting up.
Can you imagine if I had a kid? I mean, sure, I wouldn't leave the child alone but what about a shower? I'd be too afraid something might happen. I suppose I could change to shower before bed while the child is asleep.. but seriously, I don't know if I could handle the stress on my own.
Basically what I'm saying is, I think I'm going to be the crazy cat lady because they are so low maintenance.
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