August 13, 1999
R & R
I started to write an entry for yesterday, but it ended up being so tired and whiny that I finally just gave up. I was tired to the point that I couldn't focus on coming out with a coherent sentence, much less a completely formed thought or idea. My sleeping patterns have been loopy this week, even for me. I think I must have averaged maybe three hours a night or so. Today, in a lot of ways, was catch up day. Caught up sleep, caught up laundry. I feel much better now.
I sort of melted down at Brand last night. On top of being overtired, it was a pretty crappy day at work. The Banal One was annoying me to the point of near-murder. Every time she opened her mouth, I thought I was going to leap over my desk and throttle her. She prattles endlessly (in a very annoying voice) about things that no one else cares about. Plus there was a lot of oddness on my part about Hollingsworth last night. The simple fact of the matter is that I'm jealous, and so I'm avoiding him whenever possible. Then I get frustrated because I feel I 'can't go home' when I know he'll be here. That's crap, of course. He's not doing a damn thing, except what we agreed on.
Anyway, all of this resulted in me having a minor (very minor) crisis at about 5 in the morning while I was online talking to Brand. The "crisis" was of the "nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I think I'll eat some worms" variety. He dragged me offline so we could talk on the phone and he could talk some sense into me. It helped, immensely. If nothing else, just by talking to someone else, I could see how utterly irrational I'm being about all this. Sometimes it takes putting a feeling into words before you can put it behind you. It's almost as if by naming and classifying and analyzing a feeling, you deprive it of the power it has over you. For me, anyway. Probably one of the reasons therapy worked so well for me.
Therapy, which by the way, I'm considering again. I miss talking to Nancy, my old therapist. I mean, I can deal with all this as it comes, and take care of everything now, or I can keep on ignoring it until it gets me into trouble six months from now. Therapy isn't something that only belongs to people in crisis or who are out of control or whatever. I'm thinking about this as a preventative measure of sorts. (Aside: I feel like I should change the name of this journal sometimes to "... But I'm Not Depressed!" God knows I've been saying that often enough.)
But... I'm getting away from all this for the weekend, at least. Dawn called last night, and I'm going to see her and Jason in a couple hours. Yay for me. I doubt I'll be running my Changeling game with them. I still feel pretty fuzzy mentally, and I haven't had a chance to prepare anything to actually do with them. Who knows? Maybe I'll be inspired on the trip down there. Hey, it could happen. Or maybe not. Maybe I'll just spend the weekend doing little to nothing with some good friends, watching movies, playing with their dog and cats, eating Dawn's amazing cooking. There are worse ways to spend a weekend, like sitting at home alone and moping too much.
Anyway, no update until I get back for sure, although I might end up writing something Sunday night.
Posted by Lisa at August 13, 1999 04:27 PM
