I was hollered at by the people who host my “shared server” because supposedly I’m sucking too much juice. What I don’t get is I pay two bills a year to have a “special” account, why would I have to upgrade?
FollowMeToNYC is officially out of control. I think I might need to appoint an organizer / web host translator. I am messy and confused, therefore both of these entities should prove helpful.
The week has been spent working. Working job, working apartments and working writing. I love what I do, I think I have an apartment and I scribbled a few stories yesterday.
I’ve also been playing tons with Peanut, of course. I think she will be very happy in the balconied Hell’s Kitchen abode I have been dancing backwards on my hands for over the past 48 hours.
Aaaah, real estate in New York City.
I’ll probably post a new story soon.
I bathed today. This is more than I can say for the last four days of Thanksgiving Day Suck. I brushed my teeth. What more does the world want? I’m pretty cliche when I get smacked with dips of depression. I don’t eat. I don’t talk. Don’t shower.
I also shop. I’m not sure if that’s a cliche depression thing or not. It makes me feel better though, more than the not bathing part. And when I do shop, it’s for pretties. Coming from a house of five girls, I uniquely appreciate how the silk lining of a new dress slides over my skin.
Since I started my favorite job back in February, I’ve worn dresses every single day minus two because of unfortunate dry-cleaning delays. Both of these days different ladies smiled warmly with the mention of, “Pants? I’ve never seen you in pants.”
I don’t wear pants to work. I wear pretties. I was supposed to go to Philly on business this week, but poor Peanut is adjusting enough to life without her brother. I can’t leave her for two days at this point. Lucky for me, the best job in the world comes with the best boss in the world.
So I’m staying in New York City this week, all for the best because I’m going to move on Saturday. I don’t have an apartment yet. But as we have seen in the past, once I’m in the zone… it’s on.
I’m tired of lovers wreaking havoc on my zone. One midtown apartment coming up, watch this blog family.
I’ll be feeling normal in no time. Particularly considering my new pile of pretties.
So I blogged a few hours ago about boo-hoo life is shit… then a best mate came through to paint smiles on my face.
While I must get off of the island of Queens and back to my beloved Manhattan, I need to say, living down the block from Chris and David has been divine. It’s funny the Universe “just happened” to plant me here while dealing with two events that will definitely be something brought up at 70th birthday parties… which happened to occur within an eight week period down the block from my best friends.
Earlier tonight when I was ranting about how things can always be worse, I guess this ties to that. I can bitch all I want about my dog dying for no reason or another husband walking out. Though realistically, I know my life is far from bad.
Once I get another apartment in midtown, it will be further improved. I think I’m finished saying things can always get worse. I’m starting to prefer, thank goodness for what I’ve got.
Regardless. I have to tell myself, anyways. If I don’t… well… no matter.
Thank you Chris, David, Queens, Cult, Om, Azna and all the rest.
Namaste blog tribe
I hope you are all well around the world. I’ve decided that I think that I’m a hard person. I realized this today, when I sniffled and sobbed all the way to the vet to pick up Henry’s ashes. Alone. In freezing cold weather. Which somehow makes it worse, cold always makes everything worse.
Husband 2 is officially off the scene. I haven’t mentioned much about the details, some things are private even in Internet land. Needless to say, we bid each other an amicable adieu. I’ve realized I’m shit at being married. I’m moody, I get reclusive, I’m stuck in my ways and lots of other things.
It’s officially down to Peanut and I. Last year around this time, I was grieving my first husband and longing for the puppies to arrive. Little did I know that by the time they arrived, my second marriage would be over – and Henry’s body would be in its final weeks of a silent fight with cancer that no one could have saw.
Numb is the best way to describe my present state. I’ve seen some shitty times throughout our bloggy journey. But I’d like to give a special shout out to the suck that is presently having a feed on my fighting life. I’m not someone to sugar coat things. While I understand that at the end of the day, no one can rescue “you” except “you”, and yes, it can always be worse… but bloody hell… I’ve taken a serious beating over the past two months.
My focus stays on apartment. I am going to get Peanut set up someplace where I can visit her during lunch. I’ve considered getting her a friend, but how do you replace a sibling?
I don’t know how I’m fighting right now when I hurt so much. I’ll work it out. I’ve been in Sunnyside for eight weeks. During these eight weeks any certainty I thought was there evaporated. All I have is faith.
That’s just going to have to be enough.
you suppose you
can delete these
an already broken
idea about what might
have existed until
erupted and challenged
thinking i was just
another drooling admirer. (more…)