Deep breath.

I’ve been struggling lately with an all-too-familiar set of circumstances.  Years of therapy and pharmaceuticals (and yeah, I guess personal growth is in there, too) convinced me that I am above trite, simplistic emotions like bitterness and jealousy.  I am a WOMAN, a strong, intelligent, confident, ass-kicking woman.  My worth is not determined by what others think of me or their choices regarding my place in their lives.  I love myself regardless of my life’s circumstances.

But a recent turn of events has me picking up the mirror again, that same mirror I discarded a few years ago.  This mirror reflects self-loathing, weakness, rage, jealousy, envy, and yes, bitterness.  I can’t begin to wrap my brain around this turmoil and why it’s suddenly come out of remission.  I’m at a loss.  I do my best to go on about my days and love myself and the life I’ve made in this beautiful place, but all I want right now is my Mom, and my sister, and my best friend, and her back porch with the view of those Kentucky mountains I love so much.

I went down to the beach with my Mocha Man a few nights ago after work.  I needed some majesty.  I needed to feel the embrace of something far bigger than myself.  We sat on a tattered bedsheet from my childhood, sipping beer from a travel coffee mug and eating fresh green grapes.  He held me as we lay there, watching the waves emerge and crash from the midnight.  A band of fog rolled in and obscured us from the peering eyes of the world, and I felt better.

But now it’s Tuesday morning, and I’m headed out to job number 2.

Deep breath.

Back to the Shit Slinging

Well, I guess it’s actually pasta slinging, but so long as my income is determined by the generosity of total strangers, in my mind, it will always be shit.  Chunky, stinky, runny shit.  Brown, greenish-brown, sometimes even red.

(Where’s that damned eek emoticon when I need it?)

So yes, ’twas my first day earning money in the Golden State, and I must say that it went well.  Nice clientele, appropriate tips, no weasely comments on my tiny morsel of an accent.  I give it two days before one of my tables calls me out on the “y’all” thing.  Hey, I may be from the South, but at least I have sense enough not to wear fur-lined boots in 80-degree weather.

So, what to yap about in my first REAL blog entry?  Nothing really stood out today, other than the ever-encroaching sense of financial demise from this shitstain of an economy we’re kicking.  I applied for a second job this afternoon.  Seriously, the more I think about it, and the more my Mocha Man explains things in layman’s terms, the more I want to pack up and move to Belize or Micronesia or something.  Hell, damn near everybody speaks English in Hong Kong…  Anybody with me?   We can take over an island entirely populated by Pygmies and dub it the People’s Republic of Grits-n-Tits.

Sigh

I really don’t know what to say.  No news on Mom; we won’t get the re-test results until Wednesday at the earliest.  I cried all day yesterday.  I cried all day today, when I wasn’t at work.  I took the night off and cooked dinner for my sister and brother-in-law.  They’re not used to having a foodie in the house, so this was a welcome treat for them, and a needed creative release for me. 

I’m a nurturer.  I like to grow things and cook things and bake things and basically love things.  I like to make other people feel better through the things I do.  I’m making a blanket.  I feel the need to take all this worry and fear and anxiety and put it toward something that will one day keep me warm and snuggled.  So I’m making a blanket with the crochet  stitch Mom showed me yesterday.  The first block has lots of mistakes in it, but I really don’t care.  I’m leaving them. 

I’m so scared.  I don’t know what to do other than make this blanket. 

So I’m going to stop writing now and go work on the blanket. 

Thank you all for your continued thoughts and prayers.  I really appreciate it.