Clicking the Refresh

I need a refresh button for my life, and I'm going to be brave enough to click it.

That's a fucking turrible metaphor but whatever. It's been a very long few weeks. I have known for a long time now that Texas is wonderful. But it is not for me right now. I hate being so far away from my family, and not having the money to get home whenever I want. It's not that I can't stand being away from them, it's more that I can't get back to them if need/want be.

FINALLY, fourteen months after I moved to Austin, I got the chance to go home for a late Christmas. It was the most stressful vacation I've ever taken in my life. It was so hard to try to see everyone I needed to see, and then get to spend the time with people I wanted to see. (You know what I'm talking about: duty vs. the self.)

On top of it all, I met someone who has changed my perspective on a lot of things. Naturally, I wanted to spend time with him, which resulted in lack of sleep, and some interesting situations - (oh hey, I want to spend time with you, but I have this family obligation . . . sooo, wanna go to brunch with EIGHTEEN family members?? Oh shit.)

So.

I came back to Austin completely unsettled and unhappy. My plane landed, and my wheels were turning already. Plotting and planning. All of my Zen places are back home, and I decided concretely that it is just not worth it to stay so far away when it's painful to come home, and painful to be so far away. I'm not a masochist, really. Besides that, there are a lot of cool opportunities waiting for me. So, fuck it. I'm going home. (That sounds a little like Steve Urkel: I don't have to take this. I'm going home! Ha!)


Delve a Little Deeper

All right, those are superficial reasons. Here are some more in depth thoughts that I've put in my pipe to smoke. The past 18 months have fucking sucked. For 8 of those months, I waited tables to make enough money to eat and occasionally make a payment. I've NEVER had that problem, and I know what it's like to fall on hard times. Painful. Embarrassing. A major sense of failure. Now, I'm working 2 jobs (thankfully), and have nothing to show for it, except bags under my eyes and a generally bad attitude. Oh, and brain farts from lack of sleep. Always exciting. Pfft.

I don't read anymore, I don't do the things that I'm passionate about. My dog probably thinks I've abandoned him because even when I am home, I'm asleep. I swear, he's plotting how to kill me in his furry brain. He's so cute when he plots. ;)

I'm neglecting my mind, my spirit, my body. I have a gym membership, but when you work as much as I do, the last thing you want to do is exert more energy. Bad idea. Jessie needs to sweat. It gives me think time, and an outlet, and I miss that.

In short, I need to stop. I need to re-focus, re-center. Get grounded, and stop spinning my wheels when I'm so solidly in neutral. Figure out my next moves when I'm not drowning in frustration.

I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not even funny anymore when I write. That bothers me to no end. I'm working on it. This is a good move, and crazy Jess is just beneath the surface. Nah, she's here. She's just tying up some loose ends.

If a Jessie Falls in Ohio, Do You Hear it in Austin?

Well, I've never completed a 180 so quickly in my life.

I'm Just Unsettled

If you know me, you know that I have an uncanny ability to shake things up. I don't ever let things just settle - especially myself. I think that settling for something, instead of reaching and attempting, can be equated to failure. I hear people say, "well I settled for this . . . " or "I guess I'll just settle for that . . ."

I don't understand. I don't want to settle for anything. I don't care if it's settling for a Pop Tart when you want a Streudel! Go get your damn streudel and be happy that you hunted, tried, and won! Bite into that baby! I want to fly, to excel, to be challenged, and to succeed at everything. Everything is an adventure, and nothing is static.

A prime example of my frustration is looking at people I went to high school with. Holy crap! Some have taken the same type of mentality that I have, and done some extraordinary things, but many others have just stopped progressing, evolving, or changing. What is the value in that?

Last night, I had a lengthy conversation with a customer at Chili's. He is a police officer/paramedic/ICU/flight nurse, who works in a hospital and teaches. He just turned 40, and is constantly learning and challenging the status quo. That, I can appreciate and I'm happy to meet people with similar afflictions.

I say affliction because sometimes I get so frustrated with myself, and my inability to just stop and appreciate where I am right now. My body is on my sofa, but my head is at work tonight, at how I'm going to raise the money I need to enroll in grad school. I can't imagine putting in my 40 hours, going home, and saying 'well, that's my life'. My head is always elsewhere. It's in how I'm going to build my business in the upcoming year, and where the hell I'm going to put the kayak I just bought.

Have I ever kayaked? Nope. But I want to. And so I went out and got what I needed to do so. I didn't just sit around and wonder how I could ever possibly do it, only to never have it come to fruition. I became a kayak-hunting cheetah, unafraid to reach out and grab my kill. Er, my kayak. It's a prime example of what I'm talking about.

I guess I'll never stop reaching, and I think the frustration is that there's a war inside of me, wondering if I'll ever find my settling place. And I also wonder on which plane or level I'll find it.

365

This time last year, I was trying in vain to hide two black eyes which I received courtesy of a rabid American soldier. It had been a crappy ending to a really weird year. It started off in Indiana, moved to Charlotte, ended up in Austin.

I think the way I spent New Year's Eve last year was indicative of how I spent this year. I spent most of my time hunting for a job, worrying about how I was going to make ends meet, worried and stressed, stressed and worried. I wasted so much time worrying that it feels like I forgot to experience my life.

Everyone talks about how 'this year is going to be different', and how they're going to become a completely different person in the year to come. I wish them luck, and I absolutely see the value in having renewed hopes for the future. I love the cyclical nature of new beginnings; they just keep coming around and newness or rebirth can happen at any moment you choose.

My hopes are pretty simple, and my plan is even more simple. My hopes are simply that this year is better than last year, and that a renewed sense of peace and wholeness will pervade my life. I hope that I continue to take positive steps toward a better life and a secure future by remembering that I can't solve everything at once, and problems are more easily solved when I realize that most problems are small. I hope that I keep in mind that it is best to take everything one moment, and one step at a time.

I plan to usher in the new year with a sense of peace, awareness, and knowledge of my own internal awakening. Maybe if I invite a little more Zen into my life now, perhaps it will linger and grow in the next year. It's all about hope and renewal.

#9, 10, 11

#9 Jump off of a really high bridge, into a body of water below. (I'm a little terrified of heights)

#10 Submit a few stories to get published. Send them everywhere, and not be afraid to put myself out there.

#11 Be in New York for Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. #9, 10, 11

The Last 365 of 20-Something

Today is my birthday. I am 29. Not in the "Hey, I'm 40, but it's cute to say that I'm 29' kind of way - I'm actually 29. The first day of the final year of my twenties.

THIS is a sexy age to be. I've come to a few major decisions regarding this year. I'm going to LIVE, and live well, and live like the seat of my pants are on fire.

I'm still working on the details.

I have come up with a short list of things I want to do. My aunt Kathy remarked on my Facebook page that I have really lived whereas others have just dreamed. I agree, to a point, but I still don't feel like I've taken the huge bite out of life that I would like. I still feel like, if I were sitting in a room with my friends and we shared life experiences, I would still be behind in the game.

For example, SEVERAL of my friends have spent extended amounts of time overseas. I don't even have a passport.

That's #1. Get a passport.

Now here's a short list of a brain dump of things that I will check off my bucket list before the big 3-0.

#2 Use the passport. Go anywhere. I don't care, anywhere.

#3 Skydive. Fuck it. Fall and hope the chute opens. (Maybe I'll do this toward the end of this upcoming year, just in case.)

#4 Learn to climb.

#4 Turn off the t.v. Actually, sell the t.v., and listen to music, books, silence. Whatever. (This isn't a financial hardship because I paid $25 for it at Goodwill).

#5 Have a threesome. Yeah, I said it. :)

#6 Go to Mardi Gras. And do it up. Beads, beads, everywhere beads! Pee in the streets! Get dirrrty, and totally lose myself in the fantasy of it all.

#7 Get a motorcycle.

#8 Walk a meditation path at night, by candle light.

What else? What's on your bucket list that I can steal in the last year of my twenties?

The Grass is Greener, The Snow is Whiter . . .

I'm prepping for Christmas. By that, I mean I'm making candles for clients, and for my family as gifts, wrapping the gifts I've bought, and getting them ready to ship back home.

I'll be home for Christmas, only in my dreams. But before you feel too completely terrible for me, know that I'll be going home to the Arctic in January.

Everyone says I'm crazy, but I can't wait for some snow! I love the crunch of it on my boots, and the feel of a warm scarf and hat, and gloves. But lately, I've been really mulling over what it means to go home for a visit.

I'm one of the rare few who doesn't despise where I'm from. But I've more been thinking about what it's going to be like to wake up on Christmas morning, with not much to do. I suppose I'll put on a pot of coffee, and snuggle with Foster for a while. Probably take him to the dog park.

But then what? It's weird to think of spending Christmas alone, when I grew up in a family that is so steeped in tradition that it seems inconceivable that I won't be there for it, two years in a row. Not that I'm particularly torn up about it - it's just food for thought. There was a time when I couldn't imagine not being home.

But, the times, they are a'changin'.

I guess I might be jealous. All my friends are paired off, some spending their first Christmas with their boyfriends, fiances, lovers, etc. This is the time of year (especially) to have someone special in your life. This past year there have been a couple of strong candidates (I'm sure you all remember Bob . . . and the gym rat. Ugh.), but nothing that has stuck to the wall just yet. But at the same time, I don't just want any ole guy in my life just to have someone. I guess I'm looking for someone with a future full of possibilities.

Though there is a new strong possibility lurking around, I'm also learning from recent history and taking things slowly. Part of me wants to leap into the water; the part that is still licking its wounds is clinging tightly to the shore. This is not a bad thing, for sure!

Maybe it's all right to spend Christmas alone; I'm not alone truly, after all. But if you want to swing by my place and have some Christmas coffee and baked goods, Foster's and my door is always open.

Well, it's December . . .

And I have not much to show for this year. It's almost over, and all I can really say is that I hope to seal the end of this year with a kiss, wish it peace in the history books, and look ahead.

My birthday is this month, and I dread it. It's not the 'getting older' part that bothers me. It's the fact that this year was a year of little accomplishment. It was a year of struggling, taking one step forward, and five steps back. It's been a year of emotionally trying relationships, and of reaching out to get your hand smacked.

It's been a year of 'so close, and yet so far'. And today, I feel so far. I've treaded water, and kept my head above it, but other than that I don't have anything to show for myself. My pockets have been turned inside out, as have my heartstrings, and my patience for disingenuous people has disappeared completely.

I ran into people who have fooled me, and who have fooled themselves. They left me feeling empty for a long time, these two types of people. They made me tired, and weary of the people who will walk into my future. I just kept running into them, and it wore me down. I hope they have a better year as well, but it's hard to hope that when those are the people who never change, or better themselves.

This year has been a call. I'm flopping my cards on the table, acknowledging my losses, gathering my belongings, and exiting the table. Perhaps I will find a better game at a better table next year.

Coming Into My Own

I am very fond of saying everything comes full circle, always. That gives me incredible peace of mind when things go to shit, and I can't think of one instance where that saying hasn't held true.

Everything comes full circle, ALWAYS. Similarly, (thanks to the Stones for this) you can't always get what you want, but you get what you need.

I got what I thought I needed yesterday, and it came as a letter on my doorstep. I've had a few very long days lately, with working two jobs and filling candle orders in my "spare" time. Yesterday was one of them, and when I got home my ass was dragging almost to the ground. All I wanted to do was catch a nap and make some candles - until I turned the corner and saw a Target bag perched on my doorstep.

Instantly, I knew it was from Bob. How couldn't it be? I had just, not 10 minutes before, praised myself for letting him go out of my heart. Oh sweet Irony, you are an uber bitch.

With mildly trembling hands, I reached down and peeked into the bag. A note on ivory card stock, handwritten, sat on top. Well, this should be interesting.

It was. Everything Bob wrote in the letter was everything I felt & knew in my heart. Bob had in fact, farted himself awake. He freaked out, and scared himself. His letter sounded agonizing, and while part of me appreciated that, the other part felt sorry for him. I know what I'm about, and I know what I want. He had it, but couldn't give it to me. Conversely, Bob thought he knew what he wanted, and either got it and it scared him (think puppy chasing a car - what do you do if you catch the damn thing?); or he thought he knew what I wanted and it scared him.

I went through a few emotions last night, beginning with sadness & tears, shifting into anger (how does he get to come to my house, and just drop something off?), and now into peace and a warm heart toward him.

How?! You might ask, and you are correct in asking.

Bob is human, I am human. Shit happens. He's obviously sorry, and I accept that. We are nothing if we don't move forward and learn. All I want to do is hug Bob, tell him that it's all okay, and that I've been hurt before and will be again. The point is to learn from experience, and bring that into whatever is ahead. I could be bitter and harbor a grudge, but my God that takes so much energy, and he's sorry, and I'm sorry.

It's all good, my friends. It hurts a little still, but I know in my heart that it's all good. I will remain positive for the future, and yes, the door is still open for Bob. He's welcome to walk through it, as a friend, as a potential partner, or just as a casual acquaintance. Either way the wind blows, I'm at peace with it.

I've said what I needed to say, and heard (most of) what I wanted to hear, because after all:

You can't always get what you want.
Everything comes full circle, always.


Choose your ending.

Still, my rocket has no brakes.

I have been thinking a little more about this concept, and I think it also has a lot to do not only with fear, but what you do with that fear. Fear can paralyze you, and you can either stay paralyzed and become stagnant, and satisfied with "enough".

Or you can take that fear, really feel it, internalize it, make it yours (own it, really), and move the hell on with it.

I battle fear every day. My job doesn't pay anything but the bills. For 8 months, I didn't have a job to speak of, and my credit score dropped two hundred points. I am incredibly ashamed of that, but it was either eat or pay a bill.

My credit score was a point of pride; my parents didn't do a great job of keeping their scores in check due to a number of issues. My issue was that I lost my job. For a good few months, the inertia paralyzed me. My mind kept spinning, but I was terrified to do anything about it. I stopped moving, slamming on the brakes because I was scared to make the wrong move. For the first time in my life, I learned what real fear is, and how it can stop you dead in your tracks. I also (theoretically) knew things would change, get better. I knew that I had a choice.

Here's the part where you either have a rocket or you don't: you either wake up one morning, and set NEW goals, change and adjust - work your ass off and get out of that rut you're in, or you don't. And if you don't - if you wallow in the inertia, lose yourself in it and never crawl out of that black hole, then what do you have?

Paralysis. Lack of movement, lack of growth. Atrophy, both mental and emotional.

People who have rockets, and especially rockets without brakes can't possibly sit in an inert state for long. I'm not sure what pushes us on.

Conversely, I'm not sure what makes someone want to stay and marinate in that paralyzing fear forever. It just doesn't sound appealing to me.

I need to check to be sure my rocket has enough fuel, because it sure as hell doesn't have brakes.

A Rocket With No Brakes

(Thank you Heather for that amazing term. I hope you don't mind that I am borrowing it - I just think it suits us both nicely!)

Today, a friend said that neither of our rockets have brakes. Let that mental picture take shape, and I'll tell you what my imagination shows: Me, with those old-school goggles and a leather helmet, dark curls flying back behind me while I jet down a sidewalk screaming in delight and terror! That's what life should be like for those brave enough to say 'fuck you' to brakes. I've never been a firm believer in them, because most people life life with one foot on the pedal.

But you know what's great? I had no idea that that was who I was, until someone else pointed it out.

I'm rootless, always looking for the next step and wondering what amazing thing is around the corner. I've never looked around and said 'this is enough, and I will pursue no more'. Sometimes I get so frustrated about it, though.

Why can't I just be satisfied? Why can't I just settle on one thing and be happy with what I have? And the picture came slightly more into focus with Heather's simple statement. Some people have no rocket; my rocket has no brakes.

Even with climbing shoes, I'm not gripping the terrain

I can't get into a routine. I started working at Backwoods Equipment Co. on August 2, and since then my world keeps performing somersaults, leaving me to just grip the sides with my knees, and hold on while it tumbles. Not unlike riding that damn mechanical bull in New Orleans - damn you, Jack Daniel!

I have experienced so many changes over the past weeks, and I really want a routine. Something like this would be great: Work out, go to work, have lunch, go home, play with Foster, read, go to bed.

Rinse. Repeat.

But it hasn't been that way, and I am still very hopeful that it will happen. I feel like I'm merely riding out an unending storm, hunkered down while the wind and rain howl and beat at my back. Like the Irish proverb says, I'm really hoping to have a gentle wind at my back, and the sun on my face soon. However, I have guests in town the next two weeks, and after dropping this past weekend's guest off at the airport, my apartment is still a mess (not his fault). I haven't finished moving in yet, and it's really bugging me. Pictures are still unhung; clothes are still not put away; it still smells like an empty apartment, even though I filled a few candle orders last weekend. (My other other other job, lol).

But, if you know me at all you know that I never really settle in/down/for anything. Sooo . . . we'll see how long I feel like I'm slipping, until I feel like I'm gripping and climbing. I have the feeling that this won't last forever - it never does for me. While I'm still gripping the world with clenched knees and fists, riding out the never-ending storm, I'm still trying to decide whether always being unsettled is a good thing or not.

Help! I'm Slipping!

I made a mistake this morning - one I knew was coming for a few days, and I'm powerless to stop myself. My motto has always been this:

"I'd rather look back and think 'I can't believe I did that' as opposed to 'Gee, I wonder what would have happened if . . .'".

But sometimes it's so ridiculous to just jump in and do whatever you want, willy nilly. I used to have no regard for the consequences, and it seems like all I'm facing these days are consequences of seeminly innocuous past happenings.

I made the mistake of looking at Bob's photo today. At first it was a passing glance as I was going to delete some old files. Then I stopped and looked; then I fell, like Alice in a nightmarish wonderland, wondering what on earth happened, falling down the rabbit hole and into the Sepia-toned past. Searching around, I realized that the brutality of the ending is what has kept this wound open.

I need a reason, and that will give me closure. And looking into my heart right now, I see that it doesn't know time. It knows beats and moments, moments which correlate with my memories of those great moments that I'm now bleeding over. It knows when to speed up, and when to even out into a smooth cadence. It knows when it's hurt, and when to just let go for a moment.

My heart knows all these things, but doesn't know why it doesn't feel these radical impulses and glowing feelings anymore. It probably wonders why it hasn't pounded in delight recently.

For my heart, I'm sorry. I have no answers.

Pfft! Was that you or me?

You've farted yourself awake. I know you have. Sometimes it's funny; sometimes it's shocking; other times it's terrifying. Think of the repercussions!

1.) You've been married or with a partner for a while, or you're shameless. You not only wake yourself up, but if by some small miracle your partner manages to sleep through it - you throw them an elbow and in a stage whisper, ask "Did you HEAR that?"

2.) You're sleeping alone, and it jerks you awake. You think it was just a dream, but feel oddly relieved. You nestle your head back into the pillow, feeling lighter, and fall back into peaceful slumber.

3.) Oh, and there's that other time . . . absolute terror. It's happened to me twice in my life (that I can recall). The first time happened when I was dating a guy named Mark who lived downtown in a gorgeous apartment. He had a huge, comfy bed, and apparently I was super relaxed. I jerked awake and watched him intently for a couple of seconds, checking for signs of false slumber. There were none. I was safe.

The second time was with a more recent relationship, and again he slept through it, but I was mortified, thinking all sorts of things ranging from "Omigod I think I shook the bed" to "How on earth did he sleep through that?!" to "Oh God, I hope it was just gas . . . "

Now that you've had your chuckles, consider this: Bob farted himself awake. Now, go with me on this as we review the facts together:

He gave me his garage door opener, saying "I want you to feel like this is your home".

He asked me to spend every night with him, NOT the other way around (though of course I said yes - duh).

He said very serious things, such as "We have all the time in the world", and other things that still remain between us. Though I don't know why I feel the allegiance, and need to keep it that way.

He made me coffee in the morning.

His parents knew my name; I spoke with his dad on the phone; I had a candle making date with his dad.

I won't go on, because it's even making me uncomfortable, but the point is this: I wasn't the only one who fell hard and fell fast. But whereas I told myself 'Jess, you are always guarded - just push those walls down and jump in!', he did all those things and my theory is that he (metaphorically) farted himself awake.

He looked around, caught himself, but maybe he checked and there was more there than he had hoped for. Gents, here's a hint: If you fart yourself awake, just go with it still. You'll be marked, regardless.

I know when to shut up & listen

Believe it or not, I know when to shut up. And when to listen to people wiser than myself. Today I got an earful from one of those wonderful people, and what she had to say was both exciting and terrifying.

And I don't know what to do with it. But I did hear her, and internalize her thoughts and her advice. Now, what do I do with it?

Ooh, and another thing!

The whole point of my earlier blog got lost in my ramblings. As I was talking to Emali about the whole ugly episode, she said something that struck serious gold, and I'd like to share it with you now.

So many times in the past, I hear people blather on and on, and on again about "I'm going to do things for myself" and "really work on me". Well what the hell does that mean, anyway?

Seriously. Take time off from what? Who on earth means that much to someone that they need to "take time off" from dating afterward in order to get themselves "right" again?

Okay, I've been humbled. I had said those things before, those things that people say when they feel the need to work on themselves. I was lying every time. But do you know what I realized just about 10 days ago?

I'm taking time away from having a relationship. I fell too fast. What's missing, that that happened so quickly, and hurt me so much?

I'm taking time off. And I'm rediscovering what I love about myself; dusting off the things that make me happy. I didn't say I'm taking time off from dating, though. I think an integral part of discovering myself is meeting new people, and seeing what new friends have to offer.

But I'm not expecting anything, and not planning for anything, except where I am going and what I want from life. "Life" is such a big word. What do I want for tonight? Or tomorrow?

There's real beauty in that, and I guess I feel a little freedom - for as long as it lasts because after all, I'm human, and I'm fallible.

Humor & The Sad Thing

I finally did it! I looked back on Bob's odd behavior, and tried to diagnose it with Emali, and I actually laughed at it! I laughed out loud, a lot. It really was the oddest "dump" I've ever had ( I know that sounds gross, but you know what I mean. POO)

But looking back at it, whatever happened wasn't my fault, and while there's a major tender spot there, some of it was downright funny. Such as?

He helped me move my super heavy, solid oak furniture in the pitch darkness. He put up my refugee dog and myself. He said, often "We have all the time in the world". (That one still hurts - I believed him.) He bent over backwards. He had a couple interesting slips of the tongue. I thought all of it was adorable, and took very little of it seriously.

But why do all these things to then dump me by silent treatment?! Oh well. I got a coffee mug out of it.

It's a pimpy coffee mug, too. And if he wants it back, he knows where to get it - with the cost of an explanation, while I sit, bemused like the Godfather. I may even stuff some cotton balls in my cheeks for effect - don't put it past me, my friends.

Even though it's now laughable, and I've gotten to the "big picture" of it all, I flipped through my e mail today, and there was a photo of him, wearing a tie I love. It hurt. And the sad thing is, my door really is open still. I'm not sure what the ratio of curiosity is to the fact that I care a lot about him - but I'm willing to rip off the band-aid in order to let him in again.

Meh. It is what it is.

Connections

I've been feeling very homesick these past few days. And I swear, this is the last time I'll mention it - it's because I got dumped.

Ok, to clarify: it wasn't a "boyfriend/girlfriend" relationship, but it was headed that way in my opinion. So I guess it's the abrupt end to the beautiful possibilities that has my head spun around so hard. Regardless, suddenly being lonely has friends & family coming out of the woodwork to comfort and entertain me. Problem is, they're mostly back home in Indiana.

This morning I was so homesick, tears kept threatening. But I swear I'm tired of crying. I need to connect with this city, and make it an anchor. I can't keep idealizing "home" as this 22-hour away place. I mean to say, it will always be home, but God I'm so wistful about it when I'm stressed.

I have resolved to connect more with Austin, and the people in it. The Long Center has some sort of writers' workshop; I have a membership to a kick-ass gym; I work downtown. What the hell am I crying about? (Don't worry, I won't re-cap for you).

I need to buck up, go out and meet people. While a large part of me wants to say that, and charge back to my apartment, I am going to meet a new friend at Town Lake for some dog walking and coffee. It's a brave new day for our little soldier. ;) Who even cares about tomorrow?

Not So, Monotony.

I planned for a monotonous, chill day today. I planned to sleep in, lie around in my jammies, drink coffee, then drink Jack (maybe), make some candles to fill a few orders, and maybe finally organize my new pad.

I drugged myself to sleep at 8 p.m. last night - though the body needed rest, the mind wasn't willing. Sigh. An old friend called his mind "the hampster on the wheel" and mine has been more and more like that lately. Hence, NyQuil. And the mixed berry flavor was delightful as well :)

I woke up, feeling as though I had slept the day away at 9:30 a.m. Nine-fucking-thirty. I used to sail right through that hour, and sleep until noon, but not the case now - and to be honest, I dig it. I like the morning, and its simplicitous beauty.

Moving forward, I coffeed, I candled, I chilled. I felt like I accomplished nothing. I was bored. I watched some t.v. Made some more candles. Made lunch, such as it was, and still felt the burning need to get up and do something. My thought was, how did I do this all day? The act of nothing.

The truth is: I worked on my small business website; I filled a couple of orders from paying customers, who may tell their friends about me. I did some laundry, which goes a long way in seeing the floor of my apartment. I started some grad school applications, and considered my alma mater as well. I experiemented with scent and color, all in a shapely glass palette with my name on it. I thought of a business venture between my sister and myself, and mentally laid out some plans. In my jammies. On the couch. But whatever :)

I've realized that monotony like this is, in the end, very profitable - if not monetarily, then spiritually and mentally. It was a quiet day, but I did a lot. The fact that this is what I call boredom or monotony is a fact worth looking into and exploring. In short, retrospect has made me very accomplished today, even if I was accomplished in my jammies.

The thing about me is I'm resilient. A dear family friend says that I'm the most resilient person she's ever known. And I didn't believe her until . . . right about now. And there's even some self-doubt still, but I'm starting to believe that.

I don't know why I let this guy hurt me so much, and there will come a point when I'll stop to think about it; to learn from it. And the next experience will be better. God I hope the next experience will be better.

See, the problem is that I know what I want. And for a short time, he gave it to me, no strings attached. Should I have been leery? I don't know. I don't want to be one of those people who never lets anything in for fear of being hurt. I've been that person, and I don't want to go back.

My ex (who is still a wonderful friend) told me just to let the pain in, and work itself back out again. The thing about heart pain like that, is that even though it hurts while it's happening, it leaves smears of wisdom and care that you take with you to the next experience.

What have I learned so far? I will never just leave a person hanging, wondering what happened. I'll have the decency to tell them it's not working. And I'll do my best to be up front. In short, I won't be the asshole Bob turned out to be. It's just baffling how well he hid it.

Oh well, I have a date tonight. ;) And while I have exactly ZERO expectations, it'll be nice just to have a drink, a drink at face value.