daft punk are gods.
Ho-hum. Yawn.
I think the novelty of ritalin has worn off. Time for a higher dose. Or heroin.
Did a ton of stuff this weekend, including a ton of slacking. That was nice. I don't feel rested, but I feel accomplished. I'll take the feeling of exhausted achievement over well-rested any day. (And I'd rather be famous than righteous or holy.)
My Dying Boyfriend is out of the hospital again and the prognosis is good. Very good. So, I guess he is no longer dying. I have no idea how he has been able to face what he has faced and still want to invite me up for the weekend. I'm inspired, relieved and very grateful. And I also feel selfish, I don't think I would have been able to hold it together if something happened. Why? Because I'm a victim... duh.
In any case, I'll be spending time with him this weekend and then I can go back to my enabling actions of avoidance: pretend he was never sick or that I almost had to face the death of a loved one square in the face. mmmmm! Nachos!
The Doggie Dash and Dawdle was this weekend, crazy fun. Clarice was bringing sexy back in her leg-warmers and head bows in a grand homage to Puggy Jassercize. She only did half the dawdle though, she wasn't into actually exerting effort outside of getting her outfit on. Unlike those other suckas' she didn't have to go the whole distance to earn her props. Besides, I don'tt have the strength to carry that cannonball for a whole mile. No way.
Lunch plans today. That'll be nice because I am hungry as heck. And the running and then back to the office for more number crunching. I am working on the "What is the economic impact of the Santa Fe Living Wage?" .... Um... in sum... There is none. Nope. Nada. Can I go?
My schedule this week is planned down to the minute. Kinda crappy. I don't like when that happens, I feel "un-free." Howevs, when I look at what I am doing, the stuff isn't that bad. Running, socializing, dinners and reading. All things that I like. All with people that I love. Even the work stuff isn't that bad. The probation related stuff is my least favorite, but it is by no means unbearable. But panic strikes when I look at my weekly calendar and there are no blank spots. How can I not freak? One day at a time, I suppose. *pops another ritalin*
Ok... confessions.... Reasons why my probation is not bull shit even though i often think it is, Number #92849203
In my super fab and super gay- AA last week, this dude had to "tell his story." He was this cute, LA guy and he explained his introduction to alcohol, his addiction, his "rock bottom" and his battle with recovery. Most of what he was saying was far and beyond any experience I have had with alcohol, but I value the lesson of how bad things "could get". Mind you, I go to AA because I am mandated to for 8 weeks, but while I can't identify with many of the people's struggles with addictions, I can related to the dumb-ass decisions made while fucked up. Anyway, while he was describing his "rock bottom" experience, there were a few gasps in the room. It was heinous and humiliating. As he was continuing his story, it struck me: "Oh fuck. I have SO done that."
The awful, shameful thing that this guy did was the awakening he needed to become sober. I did the same thing and never thought about it again. Until now. Fucking-A. Because I am still processing what it was that I did and what it means, I won't go any further. I will tell you though. I can't keep it. I need to let it go. Plus, I am ashamed that it happened and I am ashamed that it happened and I never took the implications seriously.
/ end scene.
In happy, non-law-enforcement related news, I now have the new Britney CD. And? She a HO. And I Iove her. *weep!* Honestly, Brit, I never stopped!!
It just came to me: Why fighting or complaining or lamenting about my current legal situation and bitching about how I am being abused and mistreated by the system is a total waste of not only my time but also the time of everyone around me: Dudes: I'm not a victim.
Last week, in my group therapy of other drunk drivers, there was a lot of "I don't belong here...", "I don't have a problem....", "I'm here because I have to be, this is LAME,"...... I was so bothered. None of us are victims. We fucked up. The people who we hurt or could have hurt are the one's who have a real claim to injustice. Not us. We lost that a while ago.
I think the novelty of ritalin has worn off. Time for a higher dose. Or heroin.
Did a ton of stuff this weekend, including a ton of slacking. That was nice. I don't feel rested, but I feel accomplished. I'll take the feeling of exhausted achievement over well-rested any day. (And I'd rather be famous than righteous or holy.)
My Dying Boyfriend is out of the hospital again and the prognosis is good. Very good. So, I guess he is no longer dying. I have no idea how he has been able to face what he has faced and still want to invite me up for the weekend. I'm inspired, relieved and very grateful. And I also feel selfish, I don't think I would have been able to hold it together if something happened. Why? Because I'm a victim... duh.
In any case, I'll be spending time with him this weekend and then I can go back to my enabling actions of avoidance: pretend he was never sick or that I almost had to face the death of a loved one square in the face. mmmmm! Nachos!
The Doggie Dash and Dawdle was this weekend, crazy fun. Clarice was bringing sexy back in her leg-warmers and head bows in a grand homage to Puggy Jassercize. She only did half the dawdle though, she wasn't into actually exerting effort outside of getting her outfit on. Unlike those other suckas' she didn't have to go the whole distance to earn her props. Besides, I don'tt have the strength to carry that cannonball for a whole mile. No way.
Lunch plans today. That'll be nice because I am hungry as heck. And the running and then back to the office for more number crunching. I am working on the "What is the economic impact of the Santa Fe Living Wage?" .... Um... in sum... There is none. Nope. Nada. Can I go?
My schedule this week is planned down to the minute. Kinda crappy. I don't like when that happens, I feel "un-free." Howevs, when I look at what I am doing, the stuff isn't that bad. Running, socializing, dinners and reading. All things that I like. All with people that I love. Even the work stuff isn't that bad. The probation related stuff is my least favorite, but it is by no means unbearable. But panic strikes when I look at my weekly calendar and there are no blank spots. How can I not freak? One day at a time, I suppose. *pops another ritalin*
Ok... confessions.... Reasons why my probation is not bull shit even though i often think it is, Number #92849203
In my super fab and super gay- AA last week, this dude had to "tell his story." He was this cute, LA guy and he explained his introduction to alcohol, his addiction, his "rock bottom" and his battle with recovery. Most of what he was saying was far and beyond any experience I have had with alcohol, but I value the lesson of how bad things "could get". Mind you, I go to AA because I am mandated to for 8 weeks, but while I can't identify with many of the people's struggles with addictions, I can related to the dumb-ass decisions made while fucked up. Anyway, while he was describing his "rock bottom" experience, there were a few gasps in the room. It was heinous and humiliating. As he was continuing his story, it struck me: "Oh fuck. I have SO done that."
The awful, shameful thing that this guy did was the awakening he needed to become sober. I did the same thing and never thought about it again. Until now. Fucking-A. Because I am still processing what it was that I did and what it means, I won't go any further. I will tell you though. I can't keep it. I need to let it go. Plus, I am ashamed that it happened and I am ashamed that it happened and I never took the implications seriously.
/ end scene.
In happy, non-law-enforcement related news, I now have the new Britney CD. And? She a HO. And I Iove her. *weep!* Honestly, Brit, I never stopped!!
It just came to me: Why fighting or complaining or lamenting about my current legal situation and bitching about how I am being abused and mistreated by the system is a total waste of not only my time but also the time of everyone around me: Dudes: I'm not a victim.
Last week, in my group therapy of other drunk drivers, there was a lot of "I don't belong here...", "I don't have a problem....", "I'm here because I have to be, this is LAME,"...... I was so bothered. None of us are victims. We fucked up. The people who we hurt or could have hurt are the one's who have a real claim to injustice. Not us. We lost that a while ago.