This is what happens when I drink vodka.

I love you, and I miss you. And I don’t even know who you are.

I’ve felt this way before. Sort the clutter, man the chaos, recognize the longing that’s been there since you were old enough to recognize emptiness (all around you).

Persevere. Be strong. That’s all you’ve ever needed.

Most days you aren’t hopeful, but you at least wonder what’s to come.

Squish

Well. We all know what it’s time for. More obsessing. I tried to not think about it all day, some pleasant distractions helped, but I mean….I’m still kind of like oh my god what the fuck about tomorrow. And today didn’t help…

The head of security, the ex-cop (gee….yes….hard to imagine why I don’t like those….why maybe even the sight of the standard navy blue uniform with the shiny black shoes and belt and the hat, makes my insides cringe and I’m suddenly wondering why I’m sweating) said good morning to me as he walked past my desk…his office is quite near my desk. This is the first morning he’s ever done that. Could be a coincidence. Could be my stoner paranoia. Could be that he’s totally in on whatever is happening tomorrow morning.

I don’t do well with dread.

I mean, do I seem like I do well with ANY negative emotions? I’ve just had my fill, I guess. Plus like…I feel like I go out of my way to not be shitty to other people. I’m generally in a good mood. Like whatever. We’ll see.

My boss, the one giving this review I have to come in on a fucking Saturday for, was like…almost strangely nice towards me today. I acted totally normal. At one point when I was alone with a different boss and wanted to ask if it was normal to come in on a Saturday for a review. I just don’t get it.

It’s either going to be really bad or really good.

Wouldn’t it be hilarious if it was something really awesome? Like they want me to head up a new Creative Department? That’s not a thing, it’s just something my mind came up with when I was trying to explore all possible scenarios so I don’t freak out.

My husband is like…your boss knows you “get emotional”….she might need to broach a topic with you that she knows you’re going to react badly to.

I was like………ohhhhhhh

So that might be it

Maybe I come in smelling like pot and the ex-cop smells it.

Maybe I’ve like…been a cunt too many times to too many people. I seldom put up with shit. I know I’ve pulled some idiotic moves before too. I get upset. I start thinking irrationally, or not at all. I can’t possibly process my emotions, let alone say what I want to say when I’m upset. I’m just not. I have the relationships that I have because I just don’t get emotional with my best friend, ever, and my husband knows how to handle me, after all of this time. It only takes so much exposure to W to really be able to explain away like 90% of my shitty behavior (for an emotionally intelligent person).

Maybe I’m the only one who hasn’t gone anywhere in the department since I got there. Which is true.

I have no idea.

Can you tell how little I like not knowing something I want to know?

My in-laws are in town this weekend for a convention for one of my MIL’s hobbies, and I REALLY don’t feel like dealing with the random comments about the lack of cleanliness in one/more parts of the house…and the near-constant criticism of my husband. She always irks the shit out of me, but obviously I just hide it and act normal then hate her for it afterwards. Because. That’s Cassie.

So. Oddly enough, N read the blogs about him.

That’s also something rare with him.

He’s the only real life person who’s read my blog.

Aside from the select ones I’ve let my husband see.

There are some he can’t see.

He doesn’t want to. He knows that. I know that. I don’t really want to relive those memories. Who the fuck would?

So N like contacts me and apologizes and explains more of wtf was going on in a way that makes toooootal sense. So like…perhaps I’m just less pissed.

When an INTJ figures out why they’re feeling an emotion, they tend to let a lot of anger go.

See my issue is, I think INTJ tends to come out of like…a sharp mind under less than idea conditions. Being strikingly uncommon and generally reclusive doesn’t help matters. If I wasn’t also an alcoholic I feel like I would have zero chance, socially. I guess being attractive helps a little.

So. Idk. I guess I feel better about the N situation. I mean if I can like mock up a non-disclosure agreement about CF that he’s willing to sign…maybe we can talk (lol…but not joking, they’re standard boiler plate). I’m serious. I don’t email my work. I don’t talk about it online EVER. My personal computer is RARELY online. I use my phone for all of that. It’s not that hard to use your phone as a laptop and your laptop as a word processor, which is what I do. If my husband and I text about it we use initials only to regard characters. I won’t let anyone know the title. I’m only going to give it to my best friend in person. How could I trust the mail? How much scanning is involved, these days?

I know this sounds absurb. But idk. I have some pretty dope ideas.

Again. I know how I sound.

I just don’t care.

Like whatever. Fucking hate me.

Some days I hate me too. But most days I’m like…damn Cassie, look at you always at least trying as fucking hard as possible.

Again. I’ve spent every waking moment since Thursday morning worried about tomorrow. This is all pretty dumb. In a weird way it’d be exciting to be thinking about Monday with a very dfferent outlook than my usual.

That old, annoying adage is proving true yet again. The one my impatient, impulsive self grinds at most.

Time will tell.

~Cassie

Seeing a production of Shakespeare in a maximum security prison went well

Again. This is the second time I’ve gone (to the same place). I saw Much Ado about Nothing in 2014, then this past Tuesday evening I saw A Mid-Summer’s Night Dream. It was SO good. I mean you can really tell they get a year to practice, and that they really put their all into it.  A few of them have been at this for over two decades, so as you can imagine they’re pretty talented by this point. I haven’t laughed that much at a production of anything, like that “my face hurts from this/wedding day” type of smiling.

Then I made the mistake of reading their crimes online. And like…why does the human brain condone murder but never any sex crimes? Like I get it I guess, but I’m an inquisitive person, I’d like to know. But then all I could think about it how each of those crimes happened…and how there’s like fodder for at least five good books, between all of them…but…what do I do, steal their bios? That seems immoral, somehow. I already haven’t been able to donate to their cause yet, despite having gone to see them. I was literally a freeloader. I’ll donate when I can, I swear. I need to because they’re doing King Lear next year, and I’ll probably want to go then as well. Kind of bummed I missed Julius Caesar.

But now that that’s done, I don’t have too much on the agenda by way of things to look forward to. Between my birthday and the funeral and the play, I have 4 vacation days left for this year. Sigh. Not that we were going to be able to afford to vacation anywhere. Plus I get weekends off so I can always do a one night thing, but again, can’t afford it anyway.

Well, this week I had a fucking break down (at home) and it was from a pretty pathetic source. I mean I found out, as I was driving us home on Wednesday from the prison (354 miles from my home), that I was not pregnant, again. I mean we haven’t been trying for too long but you still get hopeful, don’t you? I do. It’s in my nature. But anyway. So maybe it was partially that. But on Thursday I discovered that my husband had spent more $ on gas than I thought, and it resulted in us not having enough $ in our checking account (it’s the only place we have $, I spent all of my on-hand cash and maxed my one credit card just to go to the play and back) for me to get lunch on Friday. I’ve been going out to a relatively cheap restaurant around my work with a coworker every Friday for over two years now. Lately, a different coworker has always joined us, and this Friday a fourth person AND the new intern were planning on coming along as well. This was all fine with me, but this made it impossible to get out of going to this lunch, after we’d planned it all week and such. And I literally did not have the money. Not in cash, or even change, or available to charge on a credit card, or in the bank. DO you realize how humiliating that is, at my age? Like all of my bills are paid up, and we had food to eat at home, but I had nothing to spare and no graceful way of getting out of lunch with my coworkers, either. I know I could have asked one of them to spot me, but that would involve a level of humiliation and embarrassment I’ve been feeling my entire life, that I don’t care to relive, at any cost.
Luckily, while I was freaking out (and by that I mean just crying, lying alone on our bed) my husband took back the empties we had on hand, which came to more than enough cash to cover my lunch (we don’t go anywhere extravagant, but I had $5 left, which isn’t enough for anywhere these days, I needed at least $10). So as pathetic as it was, it really did make me feel better because I didn’t have to relive a bevvy of unpleasant emotions I’ve known since childhood.
So that’s the level we’re still at, if you were wondering. Luckily I’ve been able to afford my pole classes, which are $18.75 a piece, if you buy 4 at a time. It’s only once a week, but then I work on stuff at home, and I actually am getting better! It’s so amazing to be like..wow..I track actual progress in myself….and you’re excited over what your body can do, not what it looks like (I stole that from a meme, lets be honest), AND whenever I’m doing pole, it’s all I’m thinking about. It requires all your focus, which makes it relaxing because you can completely concentrate on it…yet still work out. Yes, I’m very stoned when I go to class. Sometimes I wonder if they can smell it. Probably. Whatever, it’s not that weird of thing anymore, especially down here.
But my husband has only received 2 paychecks this season so far, so I haven’t been able to get very far ahead with things. But, he wants to quit this job, which I mildly support, but I will miss when he was making slightly more money than me (he works many more hours than me, at a lower rate per hour), but I don’t like his job now. But, at the same time, in the past he’s always taken his sweet ass time getting a new job, and I just don’t make enough to support both of us and pay the rent. I make enough if the person I’m with makes roughly what I make, that puts us slightly above the median wage for our area. But anyway. It’s expensive being poor, let me tell you.

Other than that, and my pole success, I’m still plugging along, as always. Still haven’t seen my mom since last October. We email every day that she works, though, so I still communicate with her a great deal. Perhaps even moreso than if we saw each other in person. Who’s to know? Who’s also to know when this will end, or how? I’m uncertain, but sometimes just leave things up to…idk like fate? Chance? Destiny? Idk. Whatever you want to call it. Random chaos? Whatever you want.

What I don’t leave up to chaos is my writing. Though to be honest I’m kind of off kilter with that as well. The funeral last week and the play this week were kind of draining. I’m always wondering why I don’t get anything done writing-wise on the weekend when I have the whole damn day off. But here i am, at 12:20 pm on Saturday and i haven’t even opened the document.

Also I’ve been filled with misgiving about the way I’ve been going about my current process, of editing on my lunch breaks and writing evenings/weekends. Because all of the writing advice online seems to not encourage skipping around like that, or editing while you’re trying to write. So unless I want to write original material on my lunch break (which, due to the nature of my work, would HAVE to happen in my car, and my laptop is too big, it wouldn’t fit well in the space I have, due to my height and tiny-car-possession) I have to forego using my lunch break for artistic things. I could go back to reading at my desk, I guess. I wish there was a place where I could write on my laptop inside…but there’s not. It would get weird and invasive real fast, and those are like my least favorite things.

Anyway. I should wonder why I waste the weekends. I got up around 9:30am, which is very late compared to the 4:30 or 5:30am that I usually get up. Then I immediately cleaned up the house and did the dishes, cleaned the kitchen table and counters, random small things like that, and I’m about halfway done with laundry. And I got really high, duh, because it’s freaking Saturday, and I’ve been pounding black coffee like always, so I feel REALLY high by this point, so I felt compelled to blog. Which I guess is good. I don’t have anyone in my life to talk to about this shit. There’s my husband, and I do talk to him about a lot, we’re definitely not into keeping anything from each other anymore, even shit like when we want to fuck someone we know from work, or whatever, but sometimes I need to talk ABOUT him, you know? And I do talk to my mom about some things, like financial issues, but then she just tells me how well she can commiserate, which I know is true, and then I feel bad, so I try to not mention it. And I don’t tell her about any other issues until long after they happen if at all because I don’t want to stress her. So I just tell her about random stuff going on, she seems to enjoy it. And I have a best friend, but besides the few times a year we see each other in person we don’t talk a ton which is fine and all I understand she’s busy but still, the avenue to talk about issues isn’t there.
But, an outlet is an outlet, right? I’ve told you-all some pretty  weird messed up shit in my life….but definitely not all of it. I don’t know if I ever will. I don’t know if that’s the plan. Yet. I never really know the plan until I’m upon it. Maybe that attitude is to blame for my financial woes. Idk.

Anyway, that’s what’s up in my life right now.

Do you ever notice a WEIRD pattern of behavior in yourself…and you’re like, where the fuck did this come from? Like…I’ve had multiple total freak outs…in MANY different types of doctors’ offices….and that’s literally the only place anything like that has ever happened……

I’ve never told anyone that.

So. Feel special. I guess.

I don’t care if people know. Maybe it’s nothing and I’m just weird…but sometimes….there’s like…..a certain hysteria to what’s upsetting me, it freaks some people out because it can bring about REALLY strong emotion really really quickly (my boss learned)..and…..I don’t quite know….what the fuck is causing it….but it’s INCREDIBLY upsetting just to write about now.

And you’re like…oh…yeah….that sounds normal. Along with…everything else. But anyway.

I should be off so I get some actual writing done today, not this stupidly long diary. I’m sure I’ll post another pole video tomorrow.

~Cassie