I Tried To Laugh It Off But I Made Things Worse

I've always said that I have no regrets.  Everything that I've been through, good, bad or indifferent has made me the person I am today.  While I'm still a work in progress, I feel pretty all right with who I am.  So why would I regret the choices that have made me, me?  At least, that's my working theory.  I have my moments of doubt for sure.  Recently I heard two little words that made me realize that I do wish that there are some things I'd done differently.

My wife.

Those are the words that absolutely cut me to the bone.  Things happen the way they're meant to.  I truly believe that.  I just know that had I known then what I know now, I'd choose differently than I did.  The aftermath of those words reverberating in my mind is that I began to look back at my life and think about the things I'd do differently had I known better at the time.  Nothing can be changed now and I wouldn't want to have a re-do even if I could.  I just look back with melancholy at a few situations I've been through.  Yes, apparently hindsight is 20/20 and all the other cliches in that same vein.

I know that I'd have chosen my words more carefully.  I'd think longer and more meaningfully about making decisions that not only affected me, but also people I cared deeply about.  I'd answer the phone more and rely on voice mail and caller ID less.  I'd have given myself the benefit of the doubt much more often.  I would have valued friendship more and fleeting romance less.  Apologies would have been more abundant.

Life is like that I guess.  You fall in love, you make friends... You think you know more than you do.  Friendships fade if not tended to.  You second guess that love you fell in.  You stumble and fall.  You make bad decisions.  Not everything winds up the way you planned it.  You get lost on your way to a dream.  Maybe you find a better one.  Maybe you're still figuring it all out.  And maybe, just maybe, that melancholy you feel about the things you should've done differently becomes part of the fabric of who you are.  Maybe it makes you stronger and wiser.

Today's title is from "Second Chance" by Faber Drive.

In Defense of Our Dreams

The time is currently 4:26 a.m. and I have yet to fall asleep.  I am afflicted with the unemployment blues.  I've talked before about how much being sedentary gets to me, but I'm approaching a whole new area code of boredom, self hate and disgust with the search.  My depression on this subject is growing daily.  I feel like I'm not a contributing member of society at all.  I have nothing to look forward to (or dread for that matter) on a daily basis.  I get through each day by the skin of my teeth, wondering if today is the day that I finally hit pay dirt on the job front.  No such luck.

I've given thought to attempting to get a job as a baker's apprentice at Publix.  The starting pay is around $8.00 per hour.  That's SIX dollars per hour less than my last job.  I'll repeat that for you, because it bears repeating:  SIX DOLLARS less.  The national minimum wage is $6.15.  Granted, it's $8.00 per hour more than I make sitting at home feeling sorry for myself.  Part of my reasoning for the change of career paths (not that I had a particular one to begin with) is because I know that I would enjoy the job.  I love to cook and bake.  There would be no stress coming home from a day baking cakes and bread.  I'd be covered in flour, wearing a sexy hairnet and smelling like sugary frosting.  It doesn't sound so bad to me.

I've sunk to the new low of applying for temp jobs.  I avoided this for as long as I could stand, because I know that temp jobs are the dregs of office work.  Temps are looked at with barely veiled contempt by permanent workers; I know from personal experience on the other side of the fence.  I'm not good at holding in my snide  remarks back at people who think they're superior for no reason (although I once myself was one of those misguided souls).  The grass isn't always greener on the other side, however it may be greener where it rains.

There is no end point to this story tonight, just that I'm beyond frustrated and need a good vent.  I head a new Switchfoot song today that reminded me of myself a bit (without the drug addiction references).  Here are the lyrics, fitting of my state of mind today.

 "Mess of Me"

I am my own affliction
I am my own disease
There ain't no drug that they could sell
Ah, there ain't no drugs to make me well

There ain't no drugs
It's not enough
There ain't no drugs
The sickness is myself

I made a mess of me
I wanna get back the rest of me
I've made a mess of me
I wanna spend the rest of my life alive

I've made a mess of me
I wanna reverse this tragedy
I've made a mess of me
I wanna spend the rest of my live alive
The rest of my life alive

We lock our souls in cages
We hide inside our shells
It's hard to feed to the ones you love
Oh, when you can't forgive yourself
Yeah, forgive yourself

There ain't no drugs
There ain't no drugs
There ain't no drugs
The sickness is myself

I made a mess of me
I wanna get back the rest of me
I've made a mess of me
I wanna spend the rest of my life alive

I've made a mess of me
I wanna reverse this tragedy
I've made a mess of me
I wanna spend the rest of my live alive
The rest of my life alive

There ain't no drug
There ain't no drug
There ain't no drug
No drugs to make me well

There ain't no drug
It's not enough
We're breaking up
The sickness is myself
The sickness is myself

I made a mess of me
I wanna get back the rest of me
I've made a mess of me
I wanna spend the rest of my life alive

I've made a mess of me
I wanna reverse this tragedy
I've made a mess of me
I wanna spend the rest of my live alive
The rest of my life alive


*Thanks to 30 Seconds to Mars for today's blog title (Kings and Queens).

I'll Be the Giver and You'll Be the Taker

I am SO bored.  I've been unemployed since 12/1/09 and am going crazy.   I can honestly say
that I've never, ever, ever felt this way.  Things are pretty rough for me right now.  It's like I keep getting sucker punched with new and cruel ways to fuck with my head and my world.  First it was the job, now my liver problems, and news I wasn't expecting (yet) that messed with my head... Suddenly I'm in over my head and I can hardly breathe.  Just when I think I'm snapping out of it, life keeps taking.  I'm tired of giving.

I'm an awesome girl.  I'm funny as hell (thankyouverymuch) and I have great hair.  I've just been at the trough of this wave for way too long now.  Here's the thing: I'm a hot ass mess.  I've got to get my act together before all my cute shoes are old and worn out.  Louboutins, I'm still waiting for you.

I'm not broken, I'm just bruised and battered.  




Thanks to The Spill Canvas for the blog title tonight (All Hail The Heart Breaker).