September 17, 2009

Another thing I hate almost as much as the kleenex box situation is bangs in my eyes.  Or even close to my eyes.  Can’t handle it people.  The weird thing is that I don’t notice it’s happening until it’s too late and I get super irritated and all of a sudden I’m looking in a mirror over a sink with scissors in my hand cutting my bangs.  <sigh>  It’s another one of these irrational things of mine…I can transform myself into Lloyd Christmas in a very short amount of time.  However, I’ve learned some really great bang cutting moves, and I think I’m getting better.  My hairdresser and I have had many conversations about this…every time I go I hope she doesn’t notice I cut my own bangs, but somehow she always notices.  We’re at a place where she understands my problem and is trying to work with me…I might even get a pair of those thinning scissors so I can do a better job myself     I do know that the scissors I have at work DO NOT WORK.  Things go really sideways reeeeally fast when I use the work scissors.  Anyway…all of that to say…I feel an impulsive compulsive trimming of the bangs coming on…I should consider starting some kind of support group for people who trim their own hair and shouldn’t butcan’tstopthemselves.

“Bangs” is a weird word.

September 16, 2009

Ok, need to rant.  I don’t think I’ve done this for a long time…which is unusual.  I don’t know how many times I need to say that I HATE KLEENEX TISSUE BOXES.  This would appear to be one of those things I cannot let go.  I had yet another frustrating experience this morning…trying to buy kleenex tissue for an office and all of the boxes are absolutely ridiculous.  Spaceships? no thanks.  Pink and purple flowers?  nope.  How about just a bunch of circles that a 2 year old drew in colors that don’t match.  ummm no.  This is truly rage inducing people.  I’ve been told that there are some new designs coming out…I have even checked them out on the websites…but seriously where can I get them.  NOWHERE.  NO.WHERE.  How hard is this people.  Who is the person that thought that making hideous kleenex tissue boxes would be the way to go.  WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS.  And why does every company seem to suck just as much.  grr grr grr.  What a simple thing to make nice…seriously, a plain brown box would be nicer than 99.9% of what’s out there.  LEMME AT ‘EM.  I’m sick of staring at a shelf of kleenex tissue, trying to pick the best TERRIBLE option, and then getting frustrated, muttering to myself, and walking away mad.  Maybe it’s not a nice kleenex tissue box I need…maybe it’s counselling.

February 15, 2009

Well, it is good news that Friday and Saturday are OVER.  Wanna know why?  Because Friday was Friday the 13th and although I am absolutely not superstitious at all, I have to admit that I was a bit freaked out because I was at home alone.  Greg was away for 4 days last week and just returned home yesterday, which put me in my house, alone, on Friday the 13th.  I did alright but there were a few moments of a quickened heart rate and a glance or 2 over the shoulder – especially when running up the stairs – what is with that?!  And it’s good news that Saturday is over because it was Valentine’s Day, and I can’t stand Valentine’s Day because of all of the pressure and expectations that go along with it.  I’m pretty much anti-anything that is there to force me to do something, and in my mind Valentine’s Day is one of those things.  And besides that, it creates depression and anxiety for probably 1/2 of the population.  So in keeping with never celebrating Valentine’s Day, Greg and I went out for supper and then hung out with a friend who just moved into his new house.  A pretty normal Saturday night.  And today I’m trying to focus on writing my research paper but there are too many people crowding my space, and there was a moment of internal meltdown mixed in there, and now I’m drinking chamomile tea and trying to talk myself down from it all.  Let’s just say that one of the people running around my house is a plumber and that is probably never good news.  Looks like there will be some more walls busted apart to find some stupid leak.  ARG.

Ok, I’m going to go drink some more chamomile tea and do some deep breathing or something.  Like I mentioned on Friday, life is overall frustrating right now and when that is the case, even little things are enough to set me off.  Will I ever learn to handle such minor things in a more appropriate way?  Logically it is all no big deal, but for some reason that’s not how I’m experiencing it.

Oh ya – by the way, if you LOVE Valentine’s Day and look forward to celebrating it every year, I promise I won’t judge you

This is madness November 10, 2008

This is madness, insanity, lunacy.  This is something that comes up for me a lot, it’s embarrassing and 1/2 shameful, and I only write it here in the hopes that someone else feels this way too and it is helpful for them to know that they’re not alone.  That, and in not keeping it a secret it gives it less power.  Ok, so now that I’ve worked it up to seem like something massively important and crazy, prepare yourselves for a big letdown.  The issue I speak of is the feeling of anxiety and panic when my clothes start feeling tight.  As much as it is easy to say that weight and measurements and physical beauty mean nothing – and I do believe that most days – it is very difficult to believe on days like these.  Days when I feel the legs of my pants trying to squeeze the life out of my legs…If I’m in a weird headspace this feeling of toit pants makes me panic instantly.  It makes me want to jump on the treadmill and run 40 miles.  It feels like that’s the only possible thing that will take this panic and anxiety away.  This was the old me – this is how I dealt with these feelings years ago.  The new me – the much more mature and wise me (I can see some eyebrows being raised…including my own) will just sit here with the panic, breathe through it, maybe pray a little, get some logic going on, and eventually it will dissipate.  How can this be?  How can it be that many women experience anxiety and panic over such a thing as tight clothes?  How does my anxiety get funneled to this insignificant, self-absorbed issue?  This takes up too much of my energy.  Fortunately I have found ways to deal with it…this is the stuff that is the material for eating disorders and the like.  Some day, when I have the time, I’m going to get to the bottom of all of this crap.  But for now, I will sit with my anxieties and fretful thoughts, make room for them (just enough room to not freak out; not enough room for them to stay), and keep working on myself and on becoming less of a freak