Are you really happy?

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So during my stay in a hospital bed last night ( went to a clinic because I had chest pain, and apparently because I take birth control and am on other crap they thought I might have blood clots instead of a chest cold ) I didn’t have much else to do but think.  Well, think and practice flinging random medical supplies across the room, but that’s besides the point. 

Things have been really hectic lately, not just at home with the kids and appointments, but at work.  If it wasn’t for 6 hours getting poked and prodded last night, I would have broken 60 hours a week again with working from home on top of my office time.  I sat there and actually thought about what I’ve done this summer and more importantly if I’ve enjoyed myself.  Sadly enough, I couldn’t think of a whole lot.

I think one of the problems my generation has is what I want to call the “Have It All” syndrome.  We judge our lives ( and let others judge our lives ) by how busy we make ourselves, by how much we accomplish with our waking hours.  Hell, I know I’m proud of myself when I tackle my atrocious work load and still manage to finish some household project I started.  Life isn’t complete until we accomplish every little goal and blow past every little standard society has set for us…. but the question is: Does it make you happy?  Are you happy?

So what I realized last night, at 1am, during a cat scan is pretty simple.  For all I’m doing, for all I tackle each day, I’m not happy.  Not as happy as I could be.  I’m working so much out of pure don’t-have-a-choice, I’m checking off my plans and obligations, not because it makes me happy, but because I feel it’s expected out of me.  I’m not saying that I’m going to all of a sudden slack off, but more along the lines of that I need to remember to do things for ME.  I have to remember to do things that being happiness, set aside time for myself and my family. 

I don’t know, guess I just wanted to share my little revelation.  Maybe if I put it in writing, it’ll make it into my head more.  Whatever.  For now I’m off to read a book and relax.  Good night!

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Holiday Blues and a Fuck You!

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Fuck you, I’m not going to be sad this Christmas.  I’m not.  I’m not going to be depressed, I’m not going to battle the holiday blues.  Hello Christmas, it’s your friendly neighborhood atheist, and I’m full of Christmas cheer.  Most of the time, I get kind of depressed during the holiday season.  Not this year!  This is a big Fuck Off to Holiday Blues.

Usually around Christmas I miss people.  I miss my mother, my last happy memories of her were around Christmas.  She died in January, so usually I get real wrapped up in the last Christmas we had together.  I miss my friends I’ve lost, all suicides and all in the fall/holiday season.  Even as I would try to enjoy what I have now, I would get sucked into the past and sucked down into depression.

Not this year.  It’s not happening.  I’ve spent a lot of years mourning, and while there were happy moments over the years, I spent too much of my time in a funk.  This year is different.  While I’m still remembering those whom I have lost, I’m refusing to dwell on it.  There’s too much to celebrate this year, there is too much to enjoy and I refuse to dwell on people who are no longer here, and focus on the loved ones I do have.

I am excited for this year, I’m excited to give everyone their gifts, I’m jumping out of my skin.  I can’t wait until Christmas morning so Nood can open her gifts!  I think I’m more excited than she is!  Hell, I’m just excited to hang out with my kid all week.  I took this week off of work (by accident really, I needed to use up my vacation time… I’d rather take time off in the summer so we can do outdoors stuff), so I have 7 more days to spend with my monkey.  Then, of course we have New Years coming up.  I don’t have many resolutions (just to quit smoking), I’m just looking forward to starting the year off on the right foot.

So depression, this is my farewell.  I have plenty of winter to deal with you, just not right now.  Fuck you Holiday Blues, and Happy Holidays to everyone!

Frustration and Cold Coffee

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Something has been itching in my brain these past few weeks.  It’s been making me feel restless and frustrated, and while having a brain-eating-worm might not be so much fun, at least there’d be a direct reason.  It’s most likely just the changing seasons.  You know, the warm days and chilly nights?  The beginning of fall/end of summer always seem to make me feel… like I said, itchy.  Twitchy.  Something.

 

Little Noodle is now officially a 1st grader.  My little girl rides the school bus, has recess and brings homework back in her new little backpack.  She seems to be having a lot of fun, and according to the email I received from her teach today, she’s doing great.  I’m definitely proud of her, and happy for her as well as a bit in shock.  When the hell did she turn 6?  When the hell did she become old enough for school (she was in private Kinder, it just didn’t hit home as much as now)?  Ahhh, the years of diaper changing and bottle washing are behind me… just like potty training.  There are many more years to enjoy, but I have a strong feeling that the other parents are right.  These years are just going to fly by.

 

So maybe that’s it.  Maybe it’s that I’m coming to the realization that my kid is not only growing up, but growing up quickly.

 

Work has been frustrating me, which is nothing entirely new.  The last couple months have had me wanting to tear my own hair out… or quit.  I still love my job, quite a bit actually.  I enjoy doing what I’m actually supposed to be doing, but lately it’s just been irritating to no end.  It seems like I end up picking up a lot of the slack, and while I admit I’m good at it, that doesn’t mean I want to do it.  It’s been hard lately, we have such a good team, but it still gets mucked up.  Just like I predicted, the office/shop seem to be spontaneously combusting.  I called it, I called it 8 weeks ago.  Hell, I even raised the warning flags to both my higher ups, but it’s still combusting at will.  The sad part is, is that I’m actually getting worn down.  It’s not that I can’t handle my job, because I most definitely can, but that combined with cleaning up after someone else’s mistakes, I’m making mistakes.  To know that someone else makes a good salary and bonuses, doing the literal job I wanted (since management removed the *one* thing I didn’t want to do) and manages to mess up enough to create twice the work for me pisses me off.

I guess the what *really* frustrates me about work, isn’t really all I just puked out above.  It’s that I’ve gone to management twice each now and nothing has changed.  It’s that I *know* other people have brought up problems, and no resolution has come about.  More importantly?  It’s that I swallowed all of my smart retorts, I did all the extra work, I smiled and taught/re-taught/re-re-taught when needed.  It’s that I did *MY* job for a whole two weeks and trusted someone else to take care of things and all I got out of it where a shit-ton of mistakes, pissed off stores and customers.  I had 2 weeks of glory, of only doing what I was supposed to be doing instead of fixing shiznit and double checking.  I figured sink or swim.  Well, that someone else sank but didn’t drown and now I’m stressed again.

I talked to my parents about this, and while my lovely step-ma agreed with me and came up with some wonderful ideas… I think my pops may have it more right.  “You can love a job, but it doesn’t matter, eventually you get a boss who is a moron screws up everything…and no one will listen.”  So while I’m valuing my step-ma’s advice (and actually putting some of it in motion), I’m heeding what my Dad had to say and keeping my options open. I’m glad I have a job, a job that deep down I love, but that doesn’t mean I am going to sit back and enjoy someone else running each day into the ground.

 

So that might be it too.  I get a headache just thinking about it.

 

Life at home is good though, thankfully.  I think I’d lose my mind otherwise.  Ryan and I hit our 2 year mark sometime last month (no, neither of us remember the date) and… well.. life is happy.  The house is shaping up and so is the yard, and my house is most definitely feeling like a home… like my sanctuary.  It’s amazing the difference in just living somewhere and living somewhere you have made into a home.  It’s one of the best feelings there is.  I’m very grateful that if I have a crappy day at work or anything negative for that matter, that I can come home and feel relieved.  I can kiss the boyfriend, pet the cat and dogs and snuggle my kid.  The kiddo is finally happy too, especially now that her bio-dad stopped popping in with random phone calls.   It sounds cold, but after another 5 months of not hearing from him, not a single peep about him from my kid, and seeing her smile and laugh, I am thrilled.  When he was calling before, her behaviour was rough and emotions crazy.  Now that it’s back to normal, she’s her happy self again!  I’m really hoping he realized how much he was hurting her before, because it was intense.  I was miffed when I found out this whole time he’s been out in CO, he’s actually been running around getting married and having another kid ( I mean, christ, he doesn’t pay for his other 2! ), but you know what?  Maybe he’s happy now and can finally let us be happy.  I hope so.

 

So, things are far from bad.  Just some stupid-shit at work mostly… but I don’t think that’s it.  I just feel antsy and almost stagnant.  I just have to find something else I want to tackle.  Improving my credit (and saving money) isn’t enough of an obstacle.  I think I just need to set some new goals to work towards, and find another way to deal with the stress from work so it continues to stay out of my home life.  Eh, I’ll come up with something.  Winter’s coming… that leaves a lot of time indoors to putter around and work towards goals.