Sunday, April 22, 2012

raveling, sort of

I can't say that I'm exactly raveling yet, but I'm less un-ravelly than last week. I think I achieved maximum unravelocity about midnight on Saturday night with a less-than-attractive episode of desperately needing a good night's sleep induced stupid paranoia. So, there's nowhere to go but up, right?


See, I didn't sleep on Friday night because I couldn't sleep. I was obsessing over my series of unfortunate dumb mistakes and I - literally - stood in my kitchen for 45 minutes, paralyzed, and wept. Oh, it's not that big of a deal. I weep occasionally. It's my special talent. Sir C used to say that if I didn't cry, it (whatever I was working on) wasn't done. So, I guess that means that I'm done unraveling.


And actually, I am. I woke up relatively sunny today. All the crap that had been bothering me was back in perspective. I mean, I am still kicking myself over things but not kicking myself down so damn much. My friend Sue had advised me to hit the "pause" button which at first I thought, oh no - pausing is the LAST thing I need to do. Which, for me, is true. But, actually...I needed to pause briefly at times. In the moment. Because, frankly, I react too quickly. I act too quickly. And that's how I got myself into situations in which I broke my phone and fucked up a few other things and subsequently unraveled. So, I'm trying to not move so quickly and thoughtlessly that I make mistakes which get me down. Etc. 


Anyyyyyyway. I got organized this afternoon. Work, home, outfits (hey, I'm easy - having outfits picked out helps me feel settled). Ate well, mostly. And have been working for a couple hours on a big work-related thing which - when done - will certainly make sure I sleep well and wake up ready for a very busy week. 


And thus ends, I HOPE, the Great Unraveling of 2012. So, how about we have a sunday night silly photo? Yes? Okay! Here I am at my WORK party showing off my Spanx. CLASSY. You're welcome.


That's my fun friend Kelly on the left. She gave me the tiara. And on the right, MY THIGHS. And a beer! Pretty. So, so pretty.


P.S. Let us note! I am not someone who likes, ever, ever, also, ever, to admit any kind of weakness. I think it's lame. I do. So, this here blawg...it's weird. That's all.

1 comment:

  1. The thighs are hot, hot I tell you!
    You need a PA.
    Not admitting you have any weakness is a sure way to land yourself in a psych unit. Or in bed for ten days, which was my gig. Just say no.
    Oh yeah, I love you.
    :-)
    --Sue

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