SO, it was board week, and it was vile (although I managed to suppress the Twitter stream of vicious bile this time), and I ditched work at one today. Then I stopped by my old job to drop off a contraband computer while the Greater and Lesser Demons were out of state, and spent half an hour or so catching up with someone I had not seen in quite a while. And it was fine until I heard the other voice. THEN, boom, hate myself and want to die.
BUT
I am permitted to attend a governmental accounting conference in COLUMBIA, in May, with my mommy, so I can pretend that it's 1998 and she's taking me down to register and everything is going to be peachy keen okay; I think after everything I can allow myself two days of total mindfuck if I deem it necessary. I think I didn't cry today because I'm saving it for wandering around campus, and then I'm seriously going to let loose, and it will be therapeutic. Then the next week is the other conference in KC when I get to see Mlle la Bisquitte, so that month will contain more travel than the twenty-two before it put together. I totally lied when I promised I'd come back.
I need to get clothes for all this since I have nothing seasonally appropriate that I have a remote chance of fitting into by May. Someone noticed yesterday that I have lost weight...like about an eighth of what I need to lose before I stop hating on myself. I'm going to burn the two suits I bought for interviewing before I got this job, because they reek of despair and obesity, and I can't even stand to look at them.
In a couple of weeks I will have to sit through a baby shower lunch for a girl at work. I already warned J that I am not going to engage well, because I have a real phobia of pregnant women and babies in general. I KNOW I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON, but even the idea of a little alien baby growing inside me like a tumor makes me want to vomit. I have never, at any time in my life, even when little and playing with dolls, thought even wistfully in passing, gee, I might like to have a kid someday. I'm all for breeding as long as I'm not expected to participate. S thinks it's this huge joke and will tell anyone who will listen about the time I went to pick her up at her other job in a bead store and encountered a toddler. It was running around the store and plopped down right in my path, and I stepped around it probably more widely than necessary because I was afraid it was going to start running again and trip me up like the cats. She ALWAYS tells people that I looked at it like it was "a pile of dog crap" and laughs hysterically. I did not either. I looked at it like it was a pile of plastic explosives. SUBTLE DIFFERENCE.
It snowed again yesterday, heavily, in large, wet flakes that would have been beautiful if I were not absolutely DONE WITH SNOW UNTIL 2018...had to run out back and put plastic tubs over the bulbs that had already started to sprout. In theory, there will be iris, crocus, daffodil, hyacinth, and something I forget behind the house. Target had a display of seed packets for climbing plants, so we bought some sweetpea (sigh), morning glory (TEE HEE), and moon flowers (...) to plant along the fence. I wish in my heart of hearts that I were a gardening person. I love the idea of gardening. Unfortunately, I am never going to be someone who wants to get down in the dirt except for novelty purposes once a year or so.
I wore sandals even though it was snowing. Because those are the shoes that go with the outfit I had selected to wear for the board meeting. And if I let the snow dictate my life, THEN THE TERRORISTS WIN. And it's spring somewhere anyway.
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