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2004-12-30 @ 12:07 a.m. |
| I think since I don't have "A" here to diagnose my current malady, I will simply attempt to name whatever the hell is making me feel like a sack of drowned hamsters. I think its BHLS....The Big Holiday Letdown Syndrome. The Big Day we were all supposedly preparing for (even if we weren't) is now over and we're all wondering around thinking, I know I need to do something like writing a Christmas card or wrapping a present or sending a box to New York or checking the priority mail rates on the Internet or making hand made ribbons or chopping down a christmas tree or getting out a box of ornaments or getting to the shopping mall before it closes or buying a gift card for uncle beezlebob or feeling sad that you never had children when you walk by the Santa Claus kiosk at the department store or finally learning all the verses to "The Twelve Days of Christmas" or putting reindeer antlers on the cat because its so fucking funny or having an excuse to tell people how you really feel about them because its a holiday or feeling sad because you broke up with them just before Christmas or feeling scared that you'll be alone on christmas or dropping a coin the Salvation Army bell ringer thing or using three rolls of scotch tape wrapping presents when you only needed one but you're really OCD or realizing you forgot to send a Christmas card to someone when you get their card on Christmas Eve or feeling guilty because your friends gave you more gifts than you gave them or eating so many frooking Christmas cookies you blew your diet, gained 10 pounds over the holidays and feel like jumping off a bridge or you losing your television remote and being unable to turn off the chirpy Christmas Carol carols sung by the largely untalented but ultimately photogenic Old Navy kids or being unable to find any boxes to wrap your gifts in so they're all strangely shaped objects poking out of the paper or wishing your nephew was with his two year old son and wife at Christmas instead of possibly getting ambushed by insurgents in Iraq or wondering whether Married Guy thinking about me at Christmas or has he totally forgotten that I exist or being worried that someone will grab my purse out in the parking lot and steal my gift card to the Olive Garden or spending more money then I actually have because I have the checkbook balancing abilities of a retarded chimp? Phew. No wonder I'm so fucking depressed. There's nothing left to worry about and I'm at a loss at what to do with my days now that Christmas is over. I know I'm depressed. I mean totally. I woke up this morning and couldn't get out of bed. Bed seemed safe. I was sleeping in the buff as usual and my teddy bear's ear was strangely tucked up under my breast. Not sure how that happened but it was strangely comforting. But as far as getting up. I didn't want to. I felt like the Empire State Building was on my chest. Why? I think its because I am totally without supports this week. No "A". No support group. No hours at work (except for the brief training yesterday). No case manager. No Married Guy of course. And that is still weighing heavily on my heart. Someone the other day said something to me, that no one has ever said before. She said, "This probably feels about the same as a divorce." And she was right. I mean we weren't married or anything and never even slept together, but my heart was definitely engaged, and I am having such a rough, rough time getting over it. So I virtually did nothing all day. I have a bag of laundry out in the car. It's now been there two days. I had good intentions yesterday, but felt depressed after work, so I just went home. And today was even worst. The weather has been dismally gray and we had some freezing drizzle today which of course, scares the b'jesus out of me, driving wise. So I just novacained my brain with daytime television. Yay me! I did finally pull myself together tonight to go to my art class. My depression always gets slightly better in the evening anyways, because 1) You can't see the overcast skies at night. 2) I'm a night person. When our Fearless Art Leader saw me come in tonight he immediately started apologizing for not getting me the copy for our newsletter. I said "no problem" Things are pretty relaxed regarding deadlines. I don't think he trusts that I'm going to do it through because when I left tonight he said, "well whatever, if you do it or don't do it. It's fine." I guess when people volunteer for stuff, they'll frequently disappear and I think he's been stung about 3 million times so he's weary. But, as long as I'm kicking, I'll do it. I love my art class, and I like being involved with something. He even gave me a heads up in the class tonight. I, of course, had to fall through the floor in total embarrassment. Our model tonight was my least favorite we have. The Nazi Nude. She's this 50-something Austrian woman with these really weird green eyes. I get really nervous when she looks at me, like she's somehow saying, "You Vill Draw Za Picture Right, Freulein!" And she does these fairly provocative (in my opinion) poses with her legs spread apart and her hand resting deep within her pubic hair and it just totally eeks me out. Another weird aspect of her, is that she has gray hair on her head and thick black pubic hair. Hmmmmm. I kind of know from experience (ahem) that if its gray on top, it'll definitely be gray down below. She must be partaking in the Miss Clairol PDS (Pubes Dye Solution). As far as the Art Class Man Watch, it was slim pickings. No Charlemagne the Obnoxious French Guy (he hasn't been there in months and I miss him), no "K" my second potential art class husband. "J", of course, is off the list due to his marital status. I did talk briefly and make eye contact with...hmmm....I guess I should give him a name, huh? How about The Professional Artist. He owns a studio in town which has national connections and his work is awesome. He's probably my age or late 40's, long hair (damn hippie!), very cool, looks a little like Married Guy (except for the long hair), and always smiles at me. You know, cuz I'm so awesomely cool too. (yeah, right). He did sit at my feet to work, for one of the longer poses and asked if it was ok. Free country, hon. Ya wanna draw me nude? heh, heh! I didn't say that, of course, only thinking it. hee, hee. I did apologize in advance in case, I accidentally forgot and blew pastel chalk dust off on his head. I guess he thought that was amusing because he smiled...again. Not sure of his marital status though and also he smokes. Not fond of that. Briefly talked to "L" the hippy chick. She did say something that made me feel really good. She said she loves looking over at me drawing, because I'm so animated. Who knew? Just this morning I could barely get out of bed. Yay me.
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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty |
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