?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Happy Leap Day!

I celebrated by telling Mr. TBH to go take a flying leap.

Okay, slight exaggeration. But I did send him an email regarding the project we're still involved in together and told him to quit treating me like an ex-girlfriend and start treating me like a collaborator. We shall see how he responds.

I feel so fucking amazing. Of course, the moment I write that, that nasty little beast in the back of my brain insists that I'm not completely happy, but I'm getting better at ignoring it until it goes away. Because once you ignore it, it does go away--it's only when you argue with it or grapple with it that it becomes larger and more substantial.

I cast this burden on the Christ within, and go free. I picked that line up from Florence Scovel Shinn, and I gave it a try when I recently found myself still brooding over Mr. TBH. And within days, the burden has been lifted, and I'm free.

I'll have to remember that one.

So, last night, I went to Outwrite bookstore for the launch party for Limp Wrist, an online literary magazine started by Dustin Brookshire, the nice lad who runs those monthly poetry workshop gigs that I'd been going to. Circumstances forced him to do without for a couple of months, but he's eager to get going again. It was a nice time--as I said in yesterday's entry, it was downright refreshing to hear nonstop good poems for a change. (I still go to Java Monkey, but being an open mike, it's a little more hit and miss.)

I was inspired enough to launch my writing blog (see previous entry) and we'll see what comes of it.

A few days ago, I got in touch with my old therapist--the one who co-facilitated the group therapy sessions I was in yay those many years ago. I need her to write a sort of Note From My Doctor to send to the insurance company with my appeal to get the pre-existing condition crap knocked off of my premium. She was glad to offer to do so and she remarked that she barely recognized my voice, because I sounded so much livelier than I did when I was seeing her. That was good to hear.

I'm going to London in three weeks. Holy crap!

I'm going to have some dinner and see if there's anything worth checking out tonight.

Today I took pleasure in having a bit of a lie-down after work and not feeling guilty about it.

Today I learned it takes my dishwasher about an hour to cycle through the running water bits. (I never bothered to time it until now.)

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
britpoptarts
Mar. 2nd, 2008 04:57 am (UTC)
Jeezuz, i had to have a similar chat with The Victorian Gentleman after we parted ways.

I told him once, when he was being sketchy to me in public, that when and if I ever acted like the Crazy Ex-girlfriend, then he could treat me that way. But given that I had been exceptionally well-behaved and tolerant of his excuse-less and reason-free decision to break up (he still has no idea why he did this, supposedly, and noted that it probably wasn't the best idea he ever acted on, but he obviously didn't regret it enough to repeal it, which was for the best), where he pretty much told me I was awesome and it was all his fault and crap ("it's not you, it's me"), I didn't need him acting like I had scabies.

He got the point. We reverted back to being friends with no fuss after that.

And, frankly, as far as that whole heartbreaking saga went, I kept the donning of sackcloth and wailing, lamentations and rending of garments confined to a long-suffering and very small group of empathetic friends, so he got over himself pretty damn quick.
wonderbink
Mar. 2nd, 2008 04:09 pm (UTC)
Unfortunately, I did wind up pulling a few Psycho Ex stunts (having a drunken meltdown after the Police concert and making increasingly frantic attempts at contact after he shut things down on me) so I may have to work a bit to assure him that whatever bullshit I did throw at him previously, I won't be doing any of that in future.

In a way, I suppose, it's a bit like having to explain to the insurance company that I'm no longer incapacitated by depression, really, and they can quit charging me as if I'm still going to be hitting them up for prescription medication for it.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )