I’ve had entirely to much to drink. My eyes are heavy with sleep and wine, my fingers coated in butter, and mouth full of the lingering taste of arepas. Some stuff with cheese, some with butter, the last with jam. Licking my lips bring each of those tastes back into the lime light. Reliving the wine, my eyes close and I struggle to open them again. Cooking while drunk left the tips of my fingers burnt. Who needs a spatula when moving things from the frying pan to the baking sheet? Not me, not me.

Skidding across the floor on spilt oil has left my ankle wrenched. Delicious pangs of pain shoot up my leg every time it shifts in my flip flop. I was racing to the living room to get Chris’ phone as his alarm went off. My beloved fell asleep on the couch, after a long night of talking, and driving around aimlessly. We went far, windows down, the radio pulsing, and silence between us.

Earlier in the day we had his Uncle over for lunch, grilled chicken, cabbage, and watermelon… with a side of Whiskey yapping and strolling around the house next door. You see, Uncle M, who is only a few years older than us… will be renting the house next door starting June 1st. At first I was upset, didn’t we just escape this fool? But a few times now he’s been over for dinner. So kind and quiet, bringing me beer, which made me sick, and complimenting my cooking. Away from his family, he is no fool. Chris smiles a bit bigger with him around, and it is good… I will admit, to have someone we know near.

Days like today, and nights, sleepless as it was, like tonight.. Remind me of just how full my life is. The ache in my back from the gluten I ate by mistake earlier is ok. There is so much more to focus on. The sleepy smile Chris gave me when I inquired as to what time he needed to be up to go fishing. The soft whimper of the puppy as I shoo him into the crate.

The wonderful love from my friends. Mary Dawn, who messaged me out of the blue, Kelly, who for the past months has been a voice of clarity amongst the confusion that has become my life…Linda, who always has something positive to say… Honey, who says thank you, and asks to help… Bobby, the man I so rarely hear from. Random voices and words, each reminding me of how much I am loved. My mother, calling just to talk… Becky, who is so entangled in her plans for the wedding of the year in August… Nicole, expecting her first baby, pictures of ultra sounds and swollen stomachs found on my phone.

I take in every bit of kindness from these people, and my heart swells. So impossibly full of things I can’t believe I have the chance to feel. Tears, perhaps they are red, like my wine…roll over my cheeks, itchy and hot from cooking over a hot stove… reminding me of the blessings I have to count. Two hands and two feet just won’t do, I am afraid.

At the end of the month I am going to the coast to see my Mom and sister, and even Bill. My heart awkwardly beats, when I realize why. Two years, you know. May 31st. At this time last year I was still so empty, so desperately alone in a sea of people who cared to much. In the shower the other day, watching the last bit of dye from my hair run down the drain… I breathed, and felt whole. My spirit has knitted itself back together. There are still days of incredible emptiness, and despair, but most days I pull air in, and it stays… before it leaked out, slow, and so subtle I didn’t realize just what I was missing.

This new healing, I have to reach out every day and poke it. Hello, hurt, are you still there? Yes, comes the faint reply… I’m here, but you’re forgetting me more with each passing moment. Hurt, he’ll always be there, but instead of being a frozen stone in my belly, he’s becoming this warm, living part of me. Small, inconspicuous until I need to be reminded. Reminding that nights like tonight, days like today, weeks like this week, so full of ups and downs… are not to be taken for granted. Because that lovely, understanding man in the living room, he won’t be here forever. Neither will all of you. So I tickle, hurt, and say thank you. What I would do without him, without you?

At the beginning of this post, I had a point. My apologies, for losing it. When I finish the end of my glass of wine, I’ll stretch and ponder some more. But no, it’s corked and away…the last thing I need right now is more. I have enough. So much. Call me lucky, darling, who else is so blessed?

I can’t do it. I won’t do it. I don’t have to do it. So I quit.

Originally I went in to interview for a position with AT&T. My work history wasn’t “good” enough and I was put into a program activating credit cards instead. A program that pays significantly less, because it’s easier. It is easy. I had to have three weeks of training to work for Sprint… there was only 3 days for this program.

And therein lies the problem. Easy sucks. You read a script. There’s no need to use your mind, in fact… don’t even try… it’ll only get you in trouble. Oh, I was good at it. I got cards activated, sold the extra programs, basically acted like a seasoned agent… which I got told more than once. Until I was marked down for saying this instead of that… and again, for stumbling over a sentence because there was a word missing in the script… or how about the time I got in trouble for looking out the window? And the debate there was over my stress ball, and whether or not I could have it.

I don’t sit still. I don’t do one thing for more than a few minutes at a time. Maybe it’s my ADHD, or maybe I’m just different.. But I was coming home in tears at the end of the night. So bored. My brain would explode once I opened the front door, because I hadn’t used it all day. Chris took the brunt of it. All my stress, worry, and anger just poured out through the house.

We decided the extra money wasn’t worth it. Even my Mom, who is all about sticking it out until it gets better, told me to just leave… my mental health, and my relationship with Chris, come first. So I’ll find something else. A place where I can use my mind, and move without fear of being written up. So once again, I’m on the job hunt. Wish me luck.

Our land lord (and lady) have three handsome, male, chocolate labs. They are big, lovable boys who I really have no problem with…when they are behind their fence. Once they get out though, I can’t squash the fear rising up my throat. I was bit by a chocolate lab as a child, and these big rambunctious boys, when they are all running around me barking and asking to play… scare me.

It gets worse when I bring Whiskey out. Both the landlord and a friend have advised me to just put him down and let the labs sniff and play with him. I can’t, though. Why? Because I have eight bruises on my arm, and two on my stomach because of the force these dogs used last night when I brought Whiskey out and held him up my arms. Three full grown, incredibly excited dogs were jumping up on me trying to get to my puppy, and in the process of doing so put their teeth on my arm and their paws on my stomach and left marks that hurt, still… over 24 hours later.

What are they going to do when I actually put him down? I’m terrified to let Whiskey loose and have to look on helplessly as they rip my sweet little boy to pieces without meaning too. They are good dogs. I just happened to be scared of them. Can’t they sense that? I wish I knew how to overcome that, because it would be nice to let him run and play with them

Instead, I ran back into the house, put Whiskey inside… and played brave with the landlord after he got his dogs back into their fence as punishment. After I’d stuck around long enough to prove I wasn’t upset I went back inside due to a fake cellphone call and cried my eyes out… like a big, overprotective, baby.

I’m better today. Not everything is perfect. I tried hard to make it so. The day was spent cleaning and organizing and catching up, and by the middle of it I realized I’d done to much. It wasn’t until just now though, that I figured out my whole cleaning spree was an attempt to find some control, something to do. The house is cleaner, well… it wasn’t really dirty, but anyways…but my body hurts, painfully so. Top it all off with some retail therapy that I justified by buying things I needed, like hangers, and baking sheets… and lots of fruit… and you get a good dose of guilt in with the pain.

Days like today feel like a huge step forward, until I take a moment and analyze. Scrubbing the tub didn’t make me feel better. That new muffin tin didn’t make me feel better. The grapes didn’t make me feel better. Cleaning, organizing, shopping… none of it worked. It distracted me, it got things that needed to be done, done… and things that needed to be bought, bought. But it didn’t soothe that part of me that’s scared, and sick, and still hurting. So I wanted to take the time on my blog tonight, to talk about things that do make the fear and pain subside…at least to a degree.

My friends. You inspire me, you make me laugh, you help me realize it’s ok not to feel good, you reassure me things will work out, you let me bitch, you give me a chance to breath, and a push when I need one too. You talk about your day with honesty, trusting me with the tale of your lives… I get to hear about your kids, and yours families, and not feel so cut off from the world. For all these reasons, and so many more… thank you. I would list all of you, but dang it… you know who you are. I hope so. I may not have even talked to you today (or even recently) but I thought about each of you, and that thought… every time it made me smile.

My Mother… who has answered the phone every time I called this week, or called me back, when she could. I love you. I am so glad we’re us again. Each time you answer a question, or just listen to me cry… I feel so much better. Thank you. Your gentle reminders to stop worrying about everyone else, and worry about myself (in more ways than one), gave me some thinking space tonight.

My husband. Don’t feel bad at being at the bottom of this list. I’m just so new at this whole relationship thing. We both dove in head first, and I haven’t had a moment of regret. Doubts, oh hell yes… but regret, none. I love you. You are the sane side of my soul. You keep me focused, you make me want to be a better person. Your arms around me when I cry are the best thing I’ve ever felt… and even when you’re sick, and infuriate me, I can’t picture a day without you in it anymore.

Last but not least, Whiskey Squishes. You little Bastard of the Farts. My waking hours would be so boring without you. Your appetite, your personality, your stubbornness (oh god, did you get that from me, or from Chris?), and the way you prance around the yard… The fact you actually play fetch, and tug a war, and then collapse exhausted at my feet. I hate to break it to you, buddy… but one day soon, you’re not going to fit under the desk, squeezed between my slippers, the chair, and computer tower… I love you too!

I was downright cruel to Chris earlier. I was yesterday too. Typically I’m argumentative and controlling, but yesterday and today I was lethally so. Chock it up to pms’ing on top of recovering (which is going nicely aside from the sometimes constipation), or missing my mom, or whatever… there are a million reasons, and some of them are valid… but for the most part I’ve simply been a Bitch. A big, mean, awful Bitch with no clue. I just keep going and going and won’t let it die.

Bashing my head against a wall is an option, asking for help is another, letting Chris be Chris would be a good thing too… and maybe, I should take more of those pain pills they gave me… I’m not taking near the amount allowed…it’s just that I’m afraid of getting addicted, or even worse… not realizing something is wrong because I’m to doped up. My mom reassured me I’m not going to get addicted to the pills if I’m actually taking them for pain… but eh, I don’t know.

Anyways, the washer and dryer were finally installed today.. And I’m catching up on laundry. The dryer heats the house up nicely, making me mellow out some. There is a ton of laundry too. We haven’t done it for a month. I know, gross, right? I am so happy to be sleeping on clean sheets. I can’t wait to dirty them up again either.

Cripes, we haven’t had sex in over a week… I was denying because of pain for a few days, then I had surgery, and now my period is almost here. Maybe the bitchiness has to do with the dry spell!