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gotta do something
January 09, 2012
It has been a while since I posted, because I was trying to come up with some kind of year-end retrospective summary. But I kind of lost interest about halfway through. Yeah--I can't sustain interest in my own life. What else is new?
I am fatter than I have ever been in my entire life and it is terrifying. I have got to find a solution to this endless downward spiral of poor habits, complete disinterest in physical activiry, compulsive over-eating, and a totally ganked metabolism. That's one of the thing on my mind right now.
The other thing on my mind is the fact that Spouse's education has been screwed up beyond redemption at this point. His money and time are running out, and the school has once again cancelled crucial classes. At this point, it is impossible for him to graduate by June, when his funding dries up. But if we are going to look on the last two and a half years as happening for a reason, I guess I should continue to believe that is going on and accept that the fortuitous timing of this latest job offer is "part of the grand design". (Hint: I really don't. The only reason is reason, not magical intervention.)
He has an offer from a nearby company that makes plastic mustard bottles, and it is a good one--mainly because when he interviewed for it, he was feeling no pressure and pretty much dictated his own terms. He was highly recommended to this company by his instructors, and got great positive response from his references, so I think they really want him. He went in this morning and accepted the position, and they sent him for the "whizz quiz" right away. I have no concerns with him clearing that particular hurdle, but I am crossing my fingers for the next step--once he passes the drug test, he will have to have a "pre-employment physical". And since his physical condition makes ME look like an Olympian, I think my apprehensions are legit.
Naturally, I couldn't get him to open up about any of this without having a screaming hissy fit. Every time we have this kind of conversation, it only happens if I pitch a fit and make him discuss it. Which in turn brings out the "See, I knew if we talked about it you would go nuts, so I didn't bring it up" defense. And that, my friends, it utter and complete backwards-ass BS. I just wish that he would SOMEDAY realize that it isn't bad news that makes me crazy--it is his WITHHOLDING bad news. I suppose that will never happen.
Honestly, though--I did notice one thing the other day, once I forced the subject. When I get really mad at him, he has a melt-down. It's pretty much a panic attack. His breathing gets labored, his hands shake, his voice trembles--it really messes him up bad. This--my getting righteously pissed and us having a fight--hardly ever happens, but when it does, I think he always has these reactions. It's probably PTSD from having a crazy mother. I am the first one to admit that you CAN have PTSD due to having a crazy mother, so it makes my heart hurt to see that.
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Reading: Recently finished "Peggy Raymond's Success, or, the Girls of Friendly Terrace" (1912) and "Peggy Raymond's Vacation, or, Friendly Terrace Transplanted" (1913) by Harriet Lummis Smith, and "The Girl From His Town" (1910), by Marie Van Vorst. Currently reading "Lord John in New York" (1914 or so), by C. N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson. Next up are "About Peggy Saville" (1900), and "More About Peggy" (1901) by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey.
Listening: Stone Temple Pilots, Janis Joplin, Florence and the Machine, NRBQ
Surfing: looking for possible solutions.
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