2009-06-24, 4:30 p.m.
Btw, I have found two blue feathers since the 30 Days of Manifestation ended.
Mom is driving me crazy. After months of good behavior, Mauricio "forgot" he was supposed to go with us to see Wicked on (dum dum dum) Father's Day weekend and got invited on a trip to SLO instead. He immediately said yes, then was all to Mom, "Weren't we supposed to do something?"
Mom has been PISSED THE MOTHERFUCKING HELL OFF ever since, even though he came back from the trip early to go. Teh. Drama. Would not let up all weekend. Screaming and crazy ensued. And since she's (a) off work using up vacation time and (b) has nothing else to do and can't find a single person to do anything with, she keeps calling me at work multiple times a day to whine and complain at me. I cannot imagine why I am not chomping at the bit to call her during the nights too.
Man, I cannot wait for group therapy day, though Mom is making noises about wanting to quit (again).
You know what craft I hate? Scrapbooking. No offense meant to obsessive scrappers, it's just not my thing to decorate within a book, I'd rather see the art on walls or on human beings.
My career counselor said I should put a portfolio together of my old newspaper work. I have had all of the newspapers boxed up since 2001 and while I did have them all saved electronically when I left the paper, god only knows where that is now. I have NOT wanted to go through those papers, at bloody all, since then. I'm already generally depressed enough without choosing to do something on my free time that's going to make me more depressed.
But yeah, have to now.
Of course, it's been a month since I scheduled this appointment for this Friday and when did I start doing it? Oh...Tuesday. And I can't work on it at all on Wednesday or Thursday nights because this mess is too large to bring with me and work on anywhere I have to be. To be fair, I actually finished off the box Wednesday morning...and then FOUND ANOTHER DAMN BOX OF PAPERS.
But yup, this sucks. Constantly looking at the names of people that used to be my friends and are gone now. Seeing how I used to interview my friends (and one time, the college ex, god help me) for computer-related stories. Seeing how the news used to be much less shitty, other than the September 11-ish newspapers I have stashed in there. Sadness, sadness, sadness.
Plus the irritation of realizing that one really can't "scrapbook" newspaper articles that are a lot bigger than 8 1/2 x 11. And the sleeve things I bought are cheap little boogers that don't have a bottom and tend to fall apart on the sides, so I have to TAPE them together. It's so stupid.