Mind Dump in I am I Said.
Revised: 06/01/2016 8:20 p.m.
- May 10, 2016, midnight
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- Public
I’m trying a new strategy in this endless, soul-sucking search for full-time employment -not saying squat about interviews before they’re over. Maybe holding things close to my chest will bring me better luck. All the prayers and well wishes from my dear friends hasn’t worked. Truth is, I am not a big fan or follower of the “pray for you” mantra any way. I feel you can pray until the cows come home and nothing changes. Action makes things happen. I might be wrong there, but from my own experience, all the praying I’ve ever done has gotten me nowhere.
Decided to stop and have dinner and a drink on my way home from the interview yesterday with Committee for Public Counsel Services (CPCS). They have an open secretary spot and I evidently was their first call for an interview. It went well, I thought. The office itself is very laid-back and casual. Here I was worried about the pink dip dyed hair I’ve been sporting since last September, I tucked it up into a bun. One of the attorneys was there to interview me with the admin person and she had a shaved head with mohawk and killer silver plated nails. It seems like a really great office atmosphere. Tons of new attorneys just getting their legs wet. I know I’d have no issues whatsoever settling in and doing a great job and since I am familiar with their system somewhat already, I think it might give me a leg up this time. We shall see, as usual, it’s a waiting game when you’re dealing with working in any type of court position capacity. Shit, I interviewed in APRIL for the Essex County Superior Court position and haven’t heard a thing since, the website says “pending”.
I can’t get my last ex out of my head lately, which means? He’s either in emotional turmoil or he’s looking to exchange the latest piece of ass and thinking about me. Yes, I know this to be true because it just is. A new notsonice part of me wants to hit him up and fuck with his head and heart big time. Oh, I do know with 100% surety if I send the signals even alluding to the chance I’d fuck him, he’d come running. A sadistic side of me wants to do that … so badly. Fuck him over good for all he’s done to his son. But that’s not my place and I really don’t need the bad karma, I seem to come with enough bad karma for some reason all on my own without intentionally adding to it. I also cannot open that can of worm again because my heart will truly never heal 100% from him. I’d never let him or anyone else know that though.
Saturday was awesome. Got to drive a very vocal basset hound to his new home in Maine. It was a fun 6-hour round-trip drive. Once again my racing mind and depressed heart were eased for a time. It was love at first sight for the older couple who adopted Jasper. The new pictures they’re sending are adorable.
While in Maine, again, I really felt peaceful. I keep thinking if I don’t find a job here soon, then I am becoming more and more inclined to get out of Massachusetts and move into a tiny home somewhere. With the equity in this house I think I could buy a tiny home outright and find some small plot of land in ME/NH or VT and live tucked away in the woods somewhere. I find the older I get the less I seem to want or need. Tiny homes are becoming more and more attractive to me. I’m just not sure a tiny home is ready for 6 animals and 1 human. It’s a thought that keeps running though.
This past Mother’s Day was a rough one. Not just missing my mother, but also grieving the child I couldn’t carry. I feel guilty, again … see, the pregnancy I had while on that dangerous medication would have resulted in a child born with the same severe brain/cranial malformations and issues that the infants being born with the Zika virus are born with. Back when I was told I had to abort I didn’t realize some children actually survive - everything I was told and everything I read said it would be must worse. Perhaps in my case it would have as this was caused by years of a medication I was on. I never had to see any pictures of infants born with these abnormalities, seeing the pictures of children born with them hurts my soul and I question myself even more seeing those babies wondering if I had the right to take that child’s life.
I have to try, once again, and reconcile my soul with the knowledge that a child born with severe brain/cranial deformities doesn’t really have a quality of life. It’s the only thing that alleviates the guilt I carry. I so wanted to be a mother. Then at the same time I am grateful to not have had a normal pregnancy. I’ve seen what a father he is NOT to his children and god, I’d still be tied to him if that child was born. He’d be fucking with my head and heart for 18+ years. One big difference between me and his other baby mama’s is that, I would NEVER allow him to negatively affect our child the way he has done with his two others and the way I know he will with the third who is just a baby now. I know he’s negatively impacting the children of the woman he is with now. Makes me sad. No, it makes me mad.
Watching BigLou’s rear leg. He was yelping yesterday and hopping. He seems to be okay today. Please, I cannot afford a large vet bill right now. All the other critters are okay.
This morning’s cheap thrill was going outside at 5:00 a.m. and catching a pair of chickadees scoping out the colorful birdhouses I had painted a couple of years ago. They were popping in and out of them – I am hoping so much that they nest there and I get to see baby chickadees fledging this year. It’s the little things I try to focus on and nature makes me happy.
My dear friend Leigh sent me a surprise that made me cry yesterday. I came home from dinner and that one drink (which made me tipsy because I rarely drink anymore) and there was a large box from a place called “The Antique Rose Emporium” with “LIVE PLANTS” written on it. It was heavy. I was confused because I was looking at roses, (all my memorial roses I had planted when I bought the home, one for each of my deceased pets, didn’t make it through the transplant and this winter. They’re all dead out there. I was looking to replant new ones this year but with being laid off, the garden is a WANT and not a NEED, I had looked at some and even placed them in a cart at my usual place - Brecks. But I chastised myself with the reminder that is a WANT not a need and x’d out of there. Leigh had lovingly chosen two rose bushes for me to plant. All I know is they’re called “Queen of Bourbons” and they’re going to be pink. I really should google those to see. I think I will. I did and here is a picture of them from the website. Gorgeous! Now where to plant them? I am thinking I am going to plant them in the raised box right where the deck is. Maybe they will do better there? Hrm. I know for me it will be 100% easier to plant them there. Oh stop being lazy Tammy, even if you know your hands are going to be KILLING you after digging, it will be worth it once these lovelies are blooming.
Last updated June 01, 2016
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