Finally back from Austin, and I am bone tired. Flight delays were nervewracking, turbulence can kiss my ass, and the dog sitter never came the whole day yesterday, although he was scheduled to. This means my dog was alone overnight Saturday and throughout the day Sunday, which makes me feel so guilty. This guy has never been anything less than exceedingly reliable, to the extent that he leaves detailed notes about what went on, which is usually a whole lot of nothing. So I don't know what happened, but I came in at 1:30 this morning and his check was still here and nothing had been touched. I only found one spot where Punkin went in the house, so that's pretty good, but also terrible because it means he held it for a preternaturally long time. Poor guy. He's way too old to deal with shit like that.
On another note, I feel unsettled this morning (separate from the exhaustion), and I wonder why it is that sometimes it feels so terrible to do the things you must do to stay sane? Or to do and say the things you think you're supposed to do or to act the way you think you're supposed to act, based upon environmental screening and history and intuition and what people tell you (or not) and all that noise (or loud silence)? It's so easy to go from feeling so fine one minute to feeling so empty the next when I let myself get stuck in old, useless patterns...when I start seeing myself through other eyes, mostly. I think I'm doing quite well, but it's so easy to backslide. I want to feel FULL again, as opposed to the alternative, which sucks. I try really hard not to give my sense of wellbeing over to anyone - in particular my sense of...centeredness, or whatever that state of "generalized not freaking out" is called. I don't think I do too much to bust up anyone's groove. I try not to, anyway. I just go about my business. I've let go of SO much. I've gotten SO good at forgetting that I really don't consciously remember a lot of things that used to bring me joy and pain, one inextricable from the other, unfortunately. On some level, I want props for that (; )) even if the props are just cutting me a break and leaving me the hell alone to be how I want to be. That's what I've chosen to do with most other people at this point, as loving as I am, through and through. And sometimes it means that I'm not as flexible as I used to be, with my opinions or with my participation. There are definitely walls - constructed purposefully, if mostly subconsciously. I have gone above and beyond in so many ways to my own detriment that I'm much choosier these days. And in some cases that's hard for people - myself included - to deal with, but that goes under the category of "too bad". I don't think I'll ever be less than discriminating again. I think I'll always second guess, just because at this age the road that stretches behind me has been instructive on many levels. And it's not bad stuff. It's important stuff. It's stuff that keeps me from making the same mistakes over and over again, because the alternative is too threatening.
I'm thinking today that maybe when situations aren't based in honesty (or maybe just when they've long outlived their shelf life), they're doomed to be draining and uncomfortable. I can't be fake without getting exhausted and cranky, and I can't be in a good and productive relationship or friendship without being myself and saying what I think. I can't turn things on a dime. I can't unmake situations into less or profoundly different than they were, just because I feel like it. Or maybe I just have a problem. Maybe I'm Gnarls Barkley-style crazy. Don't know. I'd just like to get myself to a point where I'm not so...impressionable, maybe - where I just say "Whatever," and mean it. I'm not to that point yet and it frustrates me. But more than that, I think I just want someone to get it.
Today's going to be rough, I can tell. I really need some flowers, and perhaps twelve hours of better sleep than I'm capable of, and a decent meal, and chill people. Oh, and a hit man for my dog sitter. Fucker.
Nooo! Poor Punkin! Let us know what happened. That's notta good. Glad you're home and well :)
Posted by: Killer B | September 19, 2006 at 12:16 AM