Frantically Waiting For The L. Weekend!!!

As I walked down the halls of my office building, I noticed that almost everyone had left early to start their long weekend.  I received emails all day from co-workers informing me of their early departure to attend appointments.  How strange: who books appointments at the end of a work day just before a long weekend?  Or maybe….. they are lying?  Wouldn’t it be refreshing if instead of faking an appointment, they just said, “hey everyone, I’m fucking off early today because I’m not being productive anyway — happy long weekend.”

No one is productive just before a long weekend.  Our minds have left, but our body remains.  I’m usually right there with them all, but today I actually had a lot of work to get done.  So, I remained as the last person in the building, rushing to finish a project that was thrown my way last minute.  DAMN IT.

Oh well, I have one fitness class to teach tonight and then I’m free.  Free for 3 whole days to do whatever I want.  I am itching to get started on relaxing — I can almost taste the wine now!   Freshly showered, bra off, feet on the table and a cold glass of wine in hand: that’s how my weekends gonna start.

I’m gonna put every effort into releasing the anxiety I already have about the weekend going too fast.  It hasn’t even started, and I know it isn’t long enough.

Monday is going to be a ghost town in the office as well.  I received countless vacation day requests from people who want to extend their weekend.  I really need to get on board with everyone else and start taking more time off.  Problem is, I only get 2 weeks holidays and I don’t want to take them one day at a time.  I could take a day off without pay, but losing money does not relax me.

Well I’m just babbling — my post has no purpose other than I felt like putting fingers to keys.  Ok, I’m trying to fill the time between now and my class, and it hasn’t been easy.  I don’t teach until 6pm, so I still have two hours to go.  HURRY UP WEEKEND!

Soaking Up The Sunshine

Summer is finally here!  The forecast for this week shows tempatures reaching mid-thirties (86F). We’ve had a slow start to summer this year; so I’m ready to soak up some sunshine.Storm

I love summer because everyone slows down to focus on the simple pleasures in life.   Backyard bbq, flip-flops, and sundresses are in store for the next two months, hallelujah.  There will be weekends spent floating down the river, or boat rides on the lakes.  Afterwork patio drinks with co-workers, and rooftop dinners that go late into the night.  Have I mentioned how much I love summer?

Sunshine makes me a happier girl; a tanned happier girl!  I’m taking a break from all things exhausting this weekend.  That includes my friend going through a divorce, my studies, social media, the news, thoughts of my ex, thoughts of money, and online dating.  It’s the Canada Day long weekend, July 1, 2016, so I’m going to be thankful for the beautiful country I live in, and soak up the sunshine.

 

A Productive Mistake?!?

Just over a month ago my doctor switched up my anxiety/depression medication.   The first couple of weeks were rough; I felt like I was living in a haze with a terrible headache. By about the third week the haze lifted, and I started feeling pretty good.  One lasting side-effect is my inability to enjoy a couple glasses of wine on the weekend.  Two glasses of wine, and I’m pretty much out for the night — kind of a bummer.  Big plus, however, is my renewed energy levels.  I get a big energy boost right after I take them, which lasts for a few hours.  So this is how the story of my Sunday starts…

Yesterday was a typical Sunday morning.  I got up around 6am, shuffled into the kitchen, and  went straight for my coffee mug. Like a zombie on autopilot, I put an espresso pod in the tassimo maker and pressed start.  Next I went to the pantry to get the oatmeal for breakfast, but I stopped before openning the cupboard door.  I’m usually starving as soon as I get up in the morning, but I wasn’t yesterday.  I decided to wait a bit before having breakfast.  If you knew me,  you would understand that not making breakfast right away meant something was off.  I’m  a breakfast girl, and if I don’t eat as soon as I get up, look out.  However, I wasn’t hungry, and I wasn’t gonna force myself to eat.  I think I ended up having breakfast sometime around 7am.  I bet you are wondering where this not so interesting story is going.  Well I’m getting there.  It was the change in my morning routine that set the day’s craziness in action.

You see, part of my morning routine is taking my medications.  Currently, this means half a dose of my old meds (still weaning off them), and a full dose of the new ones.  I take the old ones right away, but I wait to take my new ones until I eat.  The new ones make me nausous if not taken with food.  I spent the morning studying and catching up on some blog reading.

I had coffee plans with a friend at 9am, so at 8:30am I shut my computer down and got ready to head out.  Just before I left the house, I looked at my pill bottles and asked myself “Did I take my meds?”  I couldn’t remember; no recollection at all.   I remember taking the half dose of my old ones, but I couldn’t remember if I had taken the new ones when I got around to eating.  Well shit.  To be safe I took one and left the house.

The cafe was buzzing with the weekend morning crowd, and I got in line to order my coffee.  My friend was already waiting for me, and she had grabbed us our usual table.  I ordered my coffee, and when the barista gave me the total, I looked at him with a blank stare.  For some reason I couldn’t compute what I was supposed to do next.  Luckily, my friend had come up beside me and she handed him her coffee card to pay for my order.  I looked at her and said, “I think I double dosed, and I’m feeling really weird.”  She looked concerned and walked me back to the table.  My heart was racing, and I struggled to catch my breath.  I got extremely agitated; I almost bolted for the door just to try to get away from the feeling.  It felt something like a panic attack, but just the physical part — I wasn’t worrying about anything.  I didn’t know if I should just sit and wait it out, go for a walk, or totally lose my mind.  I decided to wait it out.  It took about 15 minutes for the speedy feeling to pass, and then I was left on feeling EXTREMLY Alert.  My friend, although initially concerned, found my wide-eyed look of surprised to be pretty humorous.  I think I looked something like this:

I literally felt like the world was on fast forward.  The rest of the day went by in a blur.  I grocery shopped (twice), prunned all my trees, cut the grass, weed-wacked, went for an hour long run, went to the gym, took the dog for a hike, went shopping for a gift for a friend (wander the mall for an hour), cleaned my floors, cleaned the bathroom, did 4 loads of laundry, and sat in the sun for a bit.  This all went down before three in the afternoon.  Talking to people was my give away.  I talked fast and I skipped from one topic to the next without taking a breath.  I only talked to friends and family for this reason.  The day went by in a flash — it was like I woke up and then it was time for bed.

Was I tired by the end of the day?  Not even a little bit.  It took me a good hour to fall asleep once I forced myself to bed.  The double dose was not intended, and initially I thought I was gonna lose it.  However, this whoopsy turned into a pretty productive day!

 

 

 

The Daily Grind — Facebook Style

Time has been on my mind lately.  More specifically, the passing of time.  This is undoubtably part of getting older.  Time becomes more precious when you realize that half your life is already over.  Regrettably, I find myself becoming more and more worried about wasting time.

One of the guys from work would answer to that “Well Kim, you’re anxious about everything… haha.” Smart ass.  Ok, so yes I worry about a lot of things, that goes with the territory of having an anxiety disorder.  However, I don’t think it’s terribly unusual for a person to be concerned about wasting his or her life away.   But how do you know if your wasting time?

My life is simple: I’m a single, middle aged, working woman.  I have no children, a few great friends, and family near by.  I’d love to say that I’m adventurous, and that I travel any chance I can, but I’m not, and I don’t.  Not to say, I won’t try something adventurous from time to time, but I certainly don’t seek it out.  I could travel, but it would be alone, and that just doesn’t appeal to me.  The excitement of travelling for me is the sharing of the experience.

Here’s another question: “Would I feel I was wasting time if social media had never been invented?”  If I didn’t see everyone else doing, what looks like, so much more than me?  Friends are getting engaged, having babies (or grandbabies), going on extravegant vacations, attending non-stop parties, buying new houses, the list just goes on and on.  If you look at my Facebook page you will find:

  • Picture of my dog
  • Reposts of cute or funny video’s
  • Maybe a self or two of me playing guitar
  • A comment about my broken car
  • A comment about being stressed about an upcoming test

Not exactly jaw dropping updates.  My life is just my life.  When I take a vacation from work, I usually stay home.  I love having a week to sleep in, read a book, wander aimlessly downtown and go for coffee.  I want to rest on my vacation, not stress about travel plans.  OK, I won’t mind going away sometime soon, but if it doesn’t happen, I’m not going to be shattered.  Social media makes me feel like a boring person, and it makes me feel alone.

As a single woman, I do spend a lot of time alone.  This is just the way it is when you are a bit older and on the market.  I’ve become pretty accustom to doing things by myself, and I don’t give it a second thought until I browse Facebook.   Facebook makes all that I accomplish seem insignificant and dull.

STOP — OK, so the other morning, this was how I was feeling after spending only 4 minutes scrolling my Facebook feed page.  People smiling, bragging, making life seem sickenly perfect.  PLEASE, as if.  This had me thinking: Why don’t I start posting “My Daily Grind” comments.  Maybe something like “Read the paper this morning, it was midly entertaining.”  “Stopped at the grocery store on my way home from work, bought some apples.”  “Noticed I need to fix one of my front steps, so I will probably tackle that this weekend.”

Being the “weird” girl I am, I’ve decided to do just that.  Everyday, at some random time, I will post “My Daily Grind” comment.  I will share what my life is actually like.  I will not embellish or inflat my life in any way.  LOL — I wonder how many Facebook friends I can lose in 10 days.

 

 

 

 

 

I Need Some Reprieve

It’s almost been a year since my best friend told me she was thinking of leaving her husband.  The news suprised me a bit, as she had a habit of bragging about how great her marriage was.  However, I do not judge, and maybe she did all that bragging to try and convince herself.  In any case, it was clear she was questioning her relationship.

I see my friend daily, as we have a morning ritual of a run and then coffee.  The first few months after her confession to me, I played the part of an active listener.  I gave her a sounding board to bounce her own thoughts off.  It was pretty apparent to me that she had checked out of her marriage long ago.  I was careful not to offer advice; instead, I shared my own experience with going through a divorce.  I shared my experience of anxiety, sadness, fear, etc to let her know that what she was feeling was perfectly normal.

I won’t get into the details of my friends situation, as it isn’t relevant to this post, nor is it my story to tell.  I will say that it has been a pretty terrible year for her, and she is still going through the split.  I have been there for her daily to listen and offer support.  Her family does not live close, as she moved to Canada to be with her husband.  She is my dearest friend, and it is important to me that she knows she’s not alone.  However, I am starting to feel the effects of starting my mornings in an anxious state.

It is difficult for me to stay detatched from my friends emotions.  Partly because of my anxiety disorder (GAD), and partly because I have been exposed to every detail of what she is going through.  I’ve been scared for her; I’ve felt her anxiety; I’ve seen her lose so much weight; and I’ve basically re-lived what it was like when I divorced.  I’m tired, and I’m starting to lose my ability to listen without wanting to snap.  Somedays I handle it fairly well; others not so much.  Today was a not so much day.

There has been a lot on my plate at work this week, and I’ve been working 12 hour days.  I’ve also had a pack-rat problem under my mobile home, which has caused me some angst.  I’ve had little time to get into the new course I’m taking; my grass hasn’t been cut in 2 weeks; my housework was missed this weekend; and all I want is a little reprieve.  So this morning when I met my friend at 6am for coffee, and she dove straight into everything on her plate, I couldn’t take it.  I literally shut down inside and hardly listened.  That is until she said, I need your help this weekend.  She does not want to be alone with her ex to discuss the division of household items, so she has asked me to come with her.  She also wants to spend some time packing up the house.

I’m at a lose as to how to handle my role as her friend right now.  If she had family here, I know things would be different, but she doesn’t.  I completely understand her need for support, and I’ve done my best to be there for her.  Unfortunately, I’m starting to crumble under the pressure.  I feel ashamed that I’m not stronger, and I feel terrible about feeling the way I do.  I can’t tell her that how I’m feeling, as she would feel guilty about it.  However, I need a break.  I need to go back to starting my mornings with positivity, and I need to have my weekends back.  Do I just get over what I need, and be there for my friend?  Do I leave her to find others to help her?  I don’t know what to do.

I’m too warn out today to make any logical decisions, so I will have to let it go for now.  I just hope and pray that soon things will change.  My anxiety levels have been extreme this week, and my head feels ready to burst.  It’s time, I think, for a little self-care.

 

 

 

Music From Dad

Country is not my first choice in music, as a matter of fact, I wouldn’t be able to name a new country song if asked.  However, when I need to fill my soul, I’ll be listening or playing some Waylon and Willie and the boys.

Twang music is how some describe Old-time country, and I love it.  Play me some “Luckenbach Texas”; add some wine to the mix, and I’ve got euphoria.  Sure enough, my guitar will be dusted off and I’ll be singing “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain.”

Music is magical, and music from your childhood comforts you in a way no other music can.  When I was a little girl, my dad used to play and sing old-time country; it filled our house with warmth.  When he left us, he started up a band and honky-tonked in dive bars across the province.

This is the only good memory I have of my biological father.  I’m astranged from him now, but I will always love the man he was to me as a young child.  He wasn’t a good father, but I forgive him for that.  Nobodies perfect, and I can’t blame him for his weak parenting skills.  When I think of him, I hurt for so many reasons.  I hurt for him, as I know he  wants a relationship with me.  I hurt for me because I can’t have one with him.  I hurt for all the pain he caused me growing up.  I hurt for his depression and bipolar disorder.  On this father’s day, I have mixed feelings of love and pain.  I wasn’t blessed with a life-time of fatherly love, but I was blessed with a few brief moments of happiness with my dad.

My dad will never see this post, but that’s ok.  This morning, I’m playing my memories of you dad.  I don’t like the father you were to me, but I love you anyway.  This is the only way I can say “Happy Father’s Day.”

When I Let Myself Dream

If I let myself dream, I see myself in a whole new life.  I picture myself living in a cute little house with the love of my life at my side.  We’d cook together and drink wine under the stars, while listening to some reggae song about being happy.  Our house would be situated right downtown, so we could walk to cafes, pubs, and markets.  The front room would have  a wood-buring fireplace with floor to ceiling bookshelves on either side of it.  Right out the back door would be a little stone path leading to a small gazebo surrounded by rose bushes and lillies.

I  believe that you can set goals for yourself and achieve almost anything you want in life.  However, I don’t think you can set a goal for falling in love.  At least not falling in true love.  Sure,  you can go online, pick a man, and fall in comfort easy enough, but that’s not part of my dream.  I had the comfortable life before; unfortunately, it didn’t work for me — I wish it did.  Life would be so much easier if I could settle for the average.  If I  didn’t need excitement and passion to make me feel alive, I could be content in a lackluster relationship.

I’m not looking for “movie” love.  Honestly, I find Hollywood love stories to be overly cheezy. I’m not unrealistic in my dreams; at least I don’t think I am.  True love to me is finding  a best friend that you are attracted to.   I don’t want the “cool guy” or “bad boy” — I want a real man.  A man not afraid to be himself.  This type of man does not live in the online dating world, at least I’ve yet to find him there.

Dreaming can be painful when I don’t know if that dream will ever come to be.   If I let myself dream, I see only what is missing.  But when I do let myself dream, I dream of love.