Restless, irritable and discontent

Sorry I’ve been absent for a few days. I’ve been busy being slightly uncomfortable. Say it with all the syllables. Un-com-fort-ab-le.

There’s nothing really going on to cause me to feel this way. Well, a couple/few things.

I’m getting ready to start my applications for school, and it’s giving me a little anxiety. The recommendation letters are giving me a little bit of fear. One in particular. I won’t get into why. Ooh, mystery. I need this one, and I’ve got some fear around it. Need to just jump in and do it. They’re all due in December, one on the first for a program I don’t think I’ll get into (I have about a .05% chance just on odds alone–but then I don’t know how good everyone else is who applies. It’s really competitive because it’s really well-funded–read: paid for, with a stipend on top of it–but it’s in the location I want to be in, so I might as well apply for it), and three on the fifteenth. But I have so much anxiety about it I’m just going to contact my references now. That way, if any of them tell me to go jump in a lake, I can ask someone else.

There’s someone in my life who’s starting to creep me out a little. This person used to be cool with me, and now they’ve crossed some boundaries kind of softly, oozing over them like bread dough rising over the bowl, and the only way to reestablish them is in a hard kind of way. I can only be the bad guy now. I’ve just been avoiding said Person. Said Person has not got the hint. I see Said Person often, and get creeped out a lot now. So I have some anxiety around that.

And my skin is bothering me. The Acnefy makes it really broken, and the dermatologists at my HMO won’t help me. Doctors are for the birds, y’all. They told me to just get off it, but it’s making me stable enough for now, so I’m still on it. So I’m obsessing on my skin. I got $350 worth of product from Sephora to deal with it. Over the past three weeks I’ve definitely seen changes. I’m going through a purge (that’s where all this hidden acne comes out to play) in some places, finished in others. I spend at least a half hour every day examining myself, picking, poking at my skin, squeezing spots, checking to see my progress. Is this bump the same today or smaller? And now I’ve bought something to deal with the scarring, so that’s a whole new obsession to develop. I scar purple. It’s upsetting to me, especially with the scars all over my chest and shoulders. Bacne is gross. The vitamins I got made my liver and kidneys hurt so I stopped taking them. I won’t go that far today. I won’t lie, I took them for three days, but it didn’t get any better, so I stopped.

And I feel broke. I seem to never have money after I pay my bills at the beginning of the month. I want to move, but not badly enough, apparently, because I haven’t saved shit. I keep beating myself up about this. Such a spendthrift. All this money on products instead of in savings. My mother transfers anxieties about her life to her finances when whenever she feels out of control. I do that a little.

So yeah. I want to fast forward right now, fast forward to when I start school. I feel like all sorts of problems will be solved then. I know realistically it isn’t true, but the same place that breeds the anxiety tells me the future is always better than the present. It tells me that I don’t have what I want yet. If you follow this logic out, of course, it means that I’m never where I want to be. It keeps me dissatisfied.

The solution to this, I’ve been taught, is gratitude. I have a roof over my head. I have a little car to drive (I love Clover. He and I are good pals). Clean water to drink. I’m safe at night. There are no secret police up in here. My bills are paid. I have employment. My illness is under control today. I have amazing friends. I love the place where I live, even if I don’t love the people in charge. The United States is a pretty awesome place to end up, and NorCal is the best.

It’s not all bad. I think, though, I’d be in a better mood if that special candy I bought had been better. But I’d be in a worse mood if I had ringworm, so there’s that. But I’d be in a better mood if I had made that sausage already. But I’d be in a worse mood if I had to go into the office tomorrow. There’s always something.

This’ll tip the scales: I think my neighbors have lost interest in the ukulele. Thank Zeus for small miracles in our time. For that, I am truly grateful.

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2 comments

    • Seer McRicketts-McGee

      You say, “Tomayto,” I say, “Tomahto.” You say, “Friendship,” I say, “Step back or I’ll spray you with mace.” Totally understandable. I guess my signals were really vague, or easily misinterpreted. I’ll be more forthright in the future.

      Also, somewhat related, if you could stop leaving sex toys on my desk at work, that would be cool. I mean, if it isn’t too much trouble. If it is, I understand. But if it isn’t, you know, that would brighten my day a little, to not find a Fleshlight on my keyboard or a Pussyfoot on my chair. Of course, I don’t want to impose. If it gets in your way to not do so, I totally understand.

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