Holy Crap on a stick people! I just weighed myself for the first time in awhile. (I stopped when I had to stop Medifast.) I have lost more weight, and I am now less than I weighed at the lowest weight I can remember from high school, AND less than 200 lbs! Holy Shit!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was send a message to some of my family and friends, literally before I even got out of bed.
This is most of what I said;
I need to talk, too much for one person right now.
I just woke up with my heat racing. I had hoped some sleep would help. But it has not. I am just utterly terrified. I have no idea what to do next.
I have been keeping all of this to myself. That is als, why I have kind of dropped out of society, and not really seen or spoken to a lot of you in a long time. I think of you all very often, and wish that I was better at all this lovey dovey stuff.
If you have any ideas, I would appreciate them.
If you could just swing by my house and give me a hug and let me know you still love me anyway, that would help. I would like that. If you are far away, maybe we could talk?
I have been out of work for thirteen and a half months.
That is awful and terrifying.
I was laid off. I did not get fired. I worked really hard and busted my butt.
I am so scared.
I worked so hard on my house, and now I am afraid of losing it.
Right now I feel paralyzed by fear.
Right now I have no idea how I will ever find a job, not to mention one that will cover that mortgage and all the money I owe for all the things I have been delaying “until” I get a job.
It has been forever since I had a haircut.
I cannot afford food.
I cannot imagine where I would go if I lost my house.
I just wish I could just have some breathing room, and exhale for a minute.
I feel very alone in the world right now.
I am heartbroken.
I feel so beat down by these circumstances, and like I will never escape.
I have actually been feeling some traction in the job search. After I get a job, maybe I can just get a pay through the nose, don’t even kiss me, interest only mortgage for a short period of time to get rid of this current mortgage company.
Maybe if I get a job, the probate judge will tell the mortgage company to fuck off on my behalf if they try to foreclose.
Maybe I should just give up, and leave the country and never look back
Maybe HAMP can help me. Too bad the mortgage company still hasn’t sent the info even though I asked for it over a month ago.
Maybe I can sell the house and pay off all I owe, and at least start with a clean slate.
Maybe if I get a job, I can get a $10,000 loan to fund the full escrow account, and then get the probate judge to rescind the account.
Maybe I will figure it all out.
Oh, just writing this helped.
TRULY, besides the whole financial terror, I feel like I am doing great. I lost a lot of weight, and feel so different. I want to lose more, but had to put the little Medifast meals on hold for the financial crunch. I still exercise, and try to eat sensibly. (You can get food from the food pantry, but no Medifast there.)
There is always a lot to do at the house, but I have made great strides. It actually looks like a house in most places. I am really proud of all I have accomplished.
I am very eager to go back to school, to pick up a course I need to take the CPA exams.
I hope you are all well, and know I am thinking of you, and would like to be in more regular touch with you.
What a differnce a day makes. I am going to bed now, reassured my unemployed mortgage company hating ass is loved, sure I will once again become an employed person sooner than later, and determined I am living in MY house forever.
Today was a good day.
Brilliant Thoughts of ~*~Esmerelda~*~ Spewed at 10/02/2011 05:15:00 AM
Friday, January 21, 2011
I have had a contractor here working on my kitchen. He is doing good work, but he is an ass. I have taken to referring to him as Princess Sunshine. I have had so much fun with him woo boy! The second day he was here, he showed up two hours late, as he did the first day. When I mentioned this to him, he said, very insolently, and loudly, in my own damn house "So!" He then told me that he works for himself and does not have to keep a a schedule and does not have to explain himself to me. Yeah, he does work for himself, and he does not have to explain himself, but he does need to show up when he says he will, I do not have all day to be at his beck and call. And I am PAYING him, hello? I called my General Contractor who had a chat with him about the bullshit of that situation. So, I did not fire him that day.
I am looking for a job. Well, Princess Sunshine thinks nothing of wandering into the room I use as an office to bother me about something or other and yelling at me while I am on the telephone doing interviews or trying to chat with contacts. Then when I excuse myself from the phone conversation to tell him I am the phone and not able to talk right now, he gets an attitude and goes and closes himself in the kitchen and makes a lot of noise. This guy just totally assaults my sensibilities.
He whined and yelled at me for not shoveling two feet of snow out of my whole driveway. I usually just do a car length at the end by the road, and park my car there, and then make myself a path to the door. Life is too short for some things, like shoveling snow that will melt eventually. So I found myself a plow dude and had the drive way plowed, Mr. Whiny Pouty shutting the fuck up about it was worth the thirty five bucks. And, seriously who the hell does not wear boots when the state has just been blanketed with two feet of snow? Asshat!
Princess Sunshine is a slob. He leaves the seat up and does not wash his hands much. Apparently, he waits until he comes to my house to take a dump. I drink 16 glasses of water minimum a day, and this dude is in there more than me. Geez! I can live with different hygiene standards, I own Clorox Clean Up. What really chaps my ass is he bugs me when I am in there. I do not think he is a creep or a perv, just a clueless twit! I have taken to leaving my own house all day, that way I can pee without being terrified I will be yelled at by this ding dong because he wants to be in the bathroom. I have not showered regularly either. Because he is too special to keep a schedule, I do not know when he will be here, and I do not want to be naked and wet while he is here. Yuck!
Last but not least, even though Princess Sunshine says he does not work for me, he thinks I work for him. I have been to Home Depot or Lowes at least three times each day picking shit up for him. He refuses to just give me a list of stuff to buy so I can buy it all at once. He yells at me because he is not specific and I ask questions so I can get the right thing, then he says it is wrong, and I have to go back to the store. My favorite thing was when he told me I had to fill up his gas tank. When he originally quoted out the job he said he would pick up the counter tops. Now, if I were a contractor, and a client said; "I would like to have this that and the other thing done, and can you pick up these materials that are too heavy for me/will not fit in my vehicle?" I would include the time it would take me, and the gas for my car in the consideration of what price to quote. So, finally he decides I may go to the store to purchase the counter tops, and he will be nice and come with me, but I have to buy him gas, to go 6 miles total. Suck my non-existent dick! I say, no. He tells me I have to buy adhesives, bolts, blah, blah, blah, and he has to go so I get the right stuff. I say he agreed to pick up the counter tops when he quoted the job, he said "the counter tops are on you!" I said I will call the GC and see what he says. I wanted to fire his ass and get him the fuck out of my life, but my GC said he was going to finish the next day, and could I please just let him finish as it would be faster and easier than finding a replacement. So, I go back home, explain to Princess Sunshine that the GC and I have decided for the sake of expediency to have him finish up rather than find someone else to do it, so he has to tell me what to get. He tells me, with much yelling, Jesus Christing, and still refuses to be specific. I go to Home Depot to see my best friends I have been hanging out with all week, and they hook me up with all the stuff I need and put it in my car, and wish me luck with Princess Sunshine. He was really put out when I got home, and I had all the right stuff.
Allegedly, he will finish up Sunday. I told my GC if he does not, I will come get him, the GC, and he and I will finish together on Monday. I am at the end of my rope with this. It has been a long two weeks.
Brilliant Thoughts of ~*~Esmerelda~*~ Spewed at 1/21/2011 08:09:00 PM
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Today I was thinking about a dog my family had. We got him, I think, when I was nineteen. He was a really cool dog, a pure bred sheepdog that we got from the dog pound. He had a tattoo on the roof of his mouth and everything. The day I had to put him to sleep was one of the most difficult in my life. I lay down on the floor of the vet’s office, crying uncontrollably, and holding him while he died.
My Mom took the dog everywhere with her, when he was alive I mean, we are not into taxidermy. Eventually it turned out that his previous owner noticed him one day hanging out of the car window when my Mom was heading home from work. The man happened to work for the same big organization as my Mom, and saw the dog in the parking lot that day after work. The dog did not recognize him, but the man was glad to see him happy and healthy with a family who loved him. The man told my Mom when he and his ex wife had split up, in the midst of the divorce, to spite him, his wife refused to let him have the dog she hated, and then abandoned the dog. The man searched all over and cold not find the dog. The nice lady at the dog pound found him just in time, and saved his life. He only weighed forty-two pounds when we got him.
This dog always looked like he was smiling and laughing. He was so funny, and so sweet. I loved him very much. I would lay down on the floor and snuggle with him all the time.
We also had lots of cats, I think we had five then, two were mine, two were brothers from one of the litters of a slutty kitty we once had. We could never get her spayed because we are Catholic, and she was always pregnant when we tried. The fifth cat was one my Dad brought home one day from visiting my sister Syko because he had watched her throw it up against the wall in a drunken rage and dislocate its hip. We were pretty sure the cat also had some kind of dain bramage.
The disabled cat and the sheepdog loved each other. We joked they were interspecies homosexual lovers. They slept together, ate together, and played together. The dog was the only other animal the cat would tolerate, and the dog loved him and took care of him.
We took the dog in the car all the time, people at fast food places always gave him free fries. We often took him to the ice cream store nearby and brought him dishes of ice cream. Kids loved seeing the doggy waiting in line and lots of them loved to pet him and talk to him. He was big, almost one hundred pounds, and we kept his hair short so he looked a lot like Falkor in the Never-ending story. More than once a child was so mesmerized by him that the dog easily succumbed to temptation and helped him self to a dripping cone in the hand of an adoring child, daintily taking a lick. My Dad always brought a new cone for the dog's fan club members.
The dog liked to wander around the house visiting with everyone in the house while we went about our daily business. One day I was sitting upstairs on the floor of my bedroom talking on the phone to the man who was my boyfriend at the time. He and I were the same age and kind of both reluctant to love somebody so much, but hopeless nonetheless. My boyfriend knew about my adoration for the dog, and that I constantly hugged the dog and talked to him. This must have slipped his mind that day. As I sat there talking, the dog wandered in and snuggled his delusionally diminutive self onto my lap and started giving me doggy kisses. I said, "Hello my love muffin, thank you so much for the nice kisses!" And my boyfriend screamed, "HEY! I though I was your love muffin!"
Brilliant Thoughts of ~*~Esmerelda~*~ Spewed at 1/02/2011 02:27:00 AM
Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself
I have been thinking forever about how to articulate this, and have come up empty, so here goes nothing.
I am ubiquitously “too sensitive” and it causes me innumerable woe in the world of work.
My last job was really hard for me, but I learned a lot about dealing with conflict and difficult people constructively, and to try not to take it all so seriously. I am, however, only human, and it was a rough place to work. Further, I feel that my own behavior deteriorated, and I sometimes was not the professional self I strive to be.
So, now that I am laid, layed, whatever, off, I am terrified about getting a new job. I have no idea how I will handle dealing with all new people, and a new environment. It really hurts me when people are mean to me. I know I should “consider the source” and not worry about what other people think. I think I do not care what other people think, I think I just don’t like being attacked, picked on, belittled, and otherwise aggravated within the confines of my work life because I have to make nice with these clowns. I do not want to be stressed out, and nervous to go to work.
I worked on this a lot with my shrink. What it is for me, this dealing with work related fucktardism, is two things. Most of my life alleged authority figures were not dependable, often unfair, and usually crazy. So, dealing with screwy people at work really pushes my buttons. And, speaking of my buttons, number two; I just do not want to make an effort and invest the emotional energy with these people. I have dealt with a lot in my life, and I do not want to waste any of it now dealing with people who drink heaping cups of nasty for breakfast.
Brilliant Thoughts of ~*~Esmerelda~*~ Spewed at 1/02/2011 02:19:00 AM
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Mon Petit Amour - My boy kitty.
Brilliant Thoughts of ~*~Esmerelda~*~ Spewed at 11/16/2010 06:03:00 PM
I have been writing elsewhere, and communicating elsewhere for awhile. I will talk about it more later in this blog as I work through the 30 days thing, but here is something I wrote that someone asked me to publish here.
The discussion was about people saying "you're not fat" to those of us who patently obviously are fat, or in cases like mine seriously freaking fat.
Here's something that happened to me;
One day at work I somehow managed to get cajoled into saying precisely why I was not romantically interested in a former coworker. This was all done in a girl talk super funny ha ha situation during which we were behaving incredibly irreverently and pretty much drawing and quartering all the men with which we were mutually acquainted as well as various and sundry notorious and/or famous men including our current and former presidents. I had been relatively quiet the whole time, as I am notoriously discreet. Now this particular co-worker was someone who I had considered a friend until he and I had a falling out. Additionally, he did actually have a pretty nice bod, and definitely a very nice tush. So, people were mystified as to why I had "absolutely no use for him" when he so obviously had a thing for me, and followed me around in the drooling puppy dog fashion.
"I guess I'm just a stuck up bitch," I said. I joked a bit more and then just spewed. "Well, for starters, that drooling puppy thing, only endearing in puppies, he's indiscreet, ..., ..., ..., and I don't like his teeth..."
"Wow," it was said jokingly and lovingly, "you really are a stuck up bitch."
"Told ya." I said facetiously
"That is so mean."
"Oh well, I said, I am entitled to like what I like." "Hell, I know I am a great catch, but that does not mean all men have the good sense to adore me." "Some men think I am too smart, some think I am too stupid, some think I am too ugly, some think I am too pretty, some think I talk too much, some think I am uncommunicative, some don't like my religious point of view, some don't like my political point of view, some don't like me because I am fat."
"HEY, you're not fat, you're so pretty!"
"Ah, I said, yes I am fat. It is just a descriptive work , like black, or white, or blond, or tall, it just describes a physical characteristic." "You guys love me, so you think fat is not a word for me." "That is because we all think fat = bad and/or ugly." "It doesn't, it just equals fat."
Fat is not a bad word, it is a true word. I believe that when someone tells we who are fat that we are not, what they are saying is that you are not gross, you are not unacceptable, you are OK, you are worthwhile. Because most of us no matter our size have a lot of issues with fat, and think it is a horrible terrible thing to be. In our society fat is a very negative word. It is a bad thing to be, so when people say I am not fat, they are saying I am OK.
Brilliant Thoughts of ~*~Esmerelda~*~ Spewed at 11/16/2010 05:11:00 PM