2017-12-14, 6:04 a.m.
I went to a really kind of useless work class on Wednesday. I admit part of the problem was me--I signed up to find out how to use a program that every single available job here uses that I don't do at work, and of course I'm the only one in the class who hasn't ever used it. This class turns out to not be for noobs. More like intermediate/advanced troubleshooting. So that's on me, but also the instructor...
I don't know what the hell went wrong with the poor girl today and I am not an empath, but I could tell from across the room that something was OFF with her today. I've met her before in a few classes and she seemed nice there, but today, hoo boy, was she in a weird, not totally together, seemed kind of super frazzled mood. Apparently this group had just been teaching 4 classes all day one after the other (I did not know it was a series either)--she was very weirded out that I hadn't been in the other three and just showed up AND wasn't in the class tomorrow (we have the office party, I signed up for the January one). So I admit I'm problematic, but...I'm not saying she sucked or didn't know of what she spoke or anything, but if i had been her coteacher, I wouldn't have just sat on my ass silently watching, I would have been all, 'Hey, let me take over for you today."
So mostly the whole experience was kinda useless. Also they seemed to have left me off the roll sheet, so who knows if I get credit for this. I didn't fill out the evaluations because they would have not been good and clearly this chick was having enough problems already today without having someone else complaining about her being offputtingly frazzled.
Did I put off writing about emotional stuff long enough? So the rest of this entry is a follow up to this, which I didn't think I'd be talking about again. And yet here I am.
My shrink is going to be out for surgery (I won't repeat for what but hoo boy, did we have some funny jokes about it) for the rest of December and we're not sure how long in January. In the few hours before I had my last session for the year, i started thinking not only (a) I don't have much drama to talk about right now except the usual Christmas crap with Mom that never improves, (b) I don't know how long I'm going to go in between sessions right now, and (c) I keep thinking about this whole ex thing.
Then I remembered years ago with another ex, choosing to watch "The Body" episode of Buffy with him because I felt that one should see it once, but I knew it would mess me up, so I should do it while I (still) had a boyfriend around for comfort. You can tell by that "still" comment that I kinda knew the end was coming. Anyway, on a similar note, I thought, if I'm going to angst on and on about this thing like I have been doing, I might as well actually talk to her about it while I still can. Which means...actually reading the message.
Hey, you know what's creepy about Facebook? It turns out I haven't logged into it (at all, but specifically at work) since 2010, I don't have it tied to anything else I do, I have had at least two replacement machines since then, and I don't even remember what my password is any more, but SOMEHOW THE THING LOGGED ME IN ANYWAY WHAT THE SMEGGING FUCK? THIS IS CREEPY AND I DO NOT LIKE IT.
Anyway, the message was asking if I still had a piece I wrote about the both of us back in the day, and otherwise, how am I doing?
What piece? Seriously, heck if I know what he is referring to, for one. For two, if I have anything like that it's probably in the Pandora's Box of Ex Memorabilia in the closet, but I am not remembering writing anything along those lines at this time. Was it a writing assignment? Was this any time I might have used him as an interview source or something? I have no idea.
But even beyond that: it's been 18 years and he's had ten billion ladies between now and then (technically I can't confirm this, but the guy could find girls to date instantly, including like right after breaking up with me, so a billion is probably accurate) and he's remembering this?!?!?!
Boggle, boggle, boggle, you guys.
So anyway, I asked my shrink about this--namely, what would she do in the same situation--and she said she'd angst and freak out about it for a while and then write back to get it over with. Huh. She also ah...well, let's say she did a little fact checking on the fellow in ways I have not let myself do in quite some time. She described him as "theatrical" (I cracked up, this was not a word anyone would have used for him in ye olde college) and then told me he was in a production of the Nutcracker!
However, after she said that, I checked and ...yup, in as a party guest. Too bad the show's over or lord knows I would have hauled ass over there to see THIS. I am seriously wondering how this happened. He must know someone in the show-whoever he's dating now would be my guess because heck if I know what else he'd be doing at ballet school and from what I recall, that's the usual method of getting dudes to come to one.
On a weird coincidental note, while I was at the bookstore this weekend I was looking at a book called "Raising the Barre." It's written by a woman who was told as a young teenager that her body was all wrong for ballet, so she took the hint and quit. (For the record, I also did ballet, also had the wrong body and was The Worst at ballet school because of that, but stuck it out until the end of high school.) Now she's in her 40's and was running around going to various productions of The Nutcracker. And at some point she had some psychic message come into her head telling her she was going to be in The Nutcracker.
This boggled my mind. However, how this happened seemed anticlimactic--she just like, goes to the lady who runs the theater company in her town and says, "hi, I haven't danced since I was 12 and now I'm in my 40's, can I be in your show?" And the woman said YES. I can't believe it. Ballet is the most nitpicky thing in the world. I can't even get anyone to let me on a stage unless I paid to get in, and she just...asks and gets it with no qualifications?! My mind boggles.
Anyway, my friend Meg is in town for a few days and I got the idea to try asking her about this topic (y'know, in between craft chat) when I went over to see her on Tuesday. This turned out to be a brilliant idea because I got her to do a tarot reading about it. I have been getting generally good readings about the idea but can't help but be suspicious of my own interpretations, so I thought I'd ask a neutral party. Her verdict was "go for it, but don't go in with expectations." I do have issues with that last one because my imagination goes all over the map about it.
(Remind yourself: "Facebook friends and that's it, girl. Lowered expectations.")
Also, she made a comment about how she thinks he realized he made a mistake. Presumably because this reminded her of an ex who wanted her back after she'd already gotten married and had two kids. I think after 18 years and six billion ladies the answer to that is HELL MOTHERFUCKER NO, that can't be it, though.
Meg also suggested that I ask the universe for a sign or three---something clear. As for waiting on signs, nothing really specific happened all day yesterday, but I did break out some crazy oracular devices around the house this morning:
(a) a book called The Book Of Ordinary Oracles, which has a little bit of advice on every page and you flip and stop at random pages.
The oracle book's responses:
Then I went to my own index cards and started drawing:
So...okay then, fine. If I get up the nerve--and if/when I get any time when I don't have anyone's eyes upon me as to what I am doing with the computer at work....