But but but…
Posted on | June 8, 2010 | Comments Off
She found it far more interesting to watch HGTV (the Home and Garden channel) and eat chocolate covered raisins than eat the damn elephant. Sure, she found some of the shows inspiring. Seeing other people have their homes transformed, made over and renovated was wonderful. She should probably get on the phone and order a dumpster right now. That would be the most productive. That would solve lots of problems. Just throw it all away.
The problem was taking a rather large room that had somehow become a giant walk in closet and returning it back to a room suitable for guests once again. The bigger problem was her problem with not letting go of things and accumulating too much stuff. Too many projects, too many purses too many shoes too much clutter. Too much in her head, too much in her house. Too much. TOO MUCH.
But she was sentimental. She was making excuses. She should be eating elephant.
Eating the darn elephant
Posted on | June 8, 2010 | 2 Comments
So she was supposed to be eating the elephant one bite at a time. What a horrible analogy. She shivered at the thought of eating such a majestic creature. (Just typing that line was another moment of procrastination.) She was pathetic.
She actually *did* take a bite or two, which, upon later inspection, didn’t amount to much for the time spent which meant that her estimated time of completion was going to be greater than the remaining time allotted in her brain for the task. Of course the time she had allotted and the time that was actually left varied greatly and she really needed to use more of the remaining time working and less time talking about it, thinking about it, whining about it etc… you get the idea.
She wasn’t sure she had come up with the best plan of attack, but she had spent hours “planning” and accomplishing nothing and was sure this was just another diversion from dealing with the reality of not wanting to deal with reality. Second guessing at this late stage of the game wasn’t really going to get her anywhere but more frantic than she was already preparing to be. She knew the drill. Procrastinate until the VERY last minute, run around like a chicken with head cut off.
But why? And why was she still talking about it? She thought about the elephant…and how it might taste with BBQ sauce. . .
A phase of nothing
Posted on | June 6, 2010 | Comments Off
She was going through another nothing phase…wanting to do nothing…write nothing…not even get out of bed if she didn’t absolutely have to. She *thought* it was due to the one medication bringing her blood pressure down too low (too low was kind of ironic after having it high for so long) but after taking a few days off of the medication she still felt lousy but perhaps in a different way. (Lousy with higher blood pressure)
Today was different. She took the medication and now she was in true Zombie form feeling completely blah to the world and destined to accomplish a whole lot of nothing. This was not good as she had to get the house in order. She had even bought herself a lovely bowl to be the centerpiece of her dining table just to inspire her to get it cleared off. That included clearing off the sewing machine that had been taken out of the box but never actually turned on.
She wondered if this year would be any different than the others, if she would clean clean clean and if it would stay clean for any length of time after or if it would slowly find its way back to being a disaster again. She was definitely meant to live in a larger dwelling with more storage space, but she also felt she was meant to have less things. She needed to learn to let go and downsize. She needed to reduce the clutter.
But this was too much talk of what was to happen when it was certainly not going to happen today. Today was a day of nothing happening. Perhaps some thinking and planning of what was to happen, but no happening would take place, unless something unexpected happened.
The Dog (pt 17)
Posted on | June 1, 2010 | Comments Off
She had a lot to think about after the events of yesterday. The burgers were good. The company was startling. She realized she’d obviously been in denial. She had seen what she wanted to see. Seriously, did she really think it was a dog who had done her ironing for her and fixed her breakfast?
She didn’t know where Doone was right now, but she didn’t care. She had to digest this latest development in her truly bizarre world. She’d had a hard enough time dealing with the fact Doone could communicate with her. Now he could somehow shift into a man? (And a rather good looking one at that.) She supposed she should be grateful. Some people would be thrilled to death with such a pet. (Room mate? What do you call him?)
She had skipped the scary pill last night because her blood pressure had been tanking every day and that in combination with her headache medication was leaving her CNS depressed to say the least. She was truly a “Zombiegirl” walking around with no motivation to move let alone get anything done. It wasn’t her fault if she had the blood pressure of a dying 90 year old. So she opted to skip it and allow some of the clutter to return to her head and her blood pressure to rise just so she’d be able to function a bit. Mental clutter was a small price to pay to maybe be able to reduce some of the external clutter in her life. It made sense, right?
Doone…a man. Wow. An ironing, breakfast making, burger flipping man. She wondered if she could get him to clean the house. No no, that would be wrong. She had too many decisions regarding what to do with things. But she suspected he’d help. He seemed willing to do anything to get her feeling better about herself. What was his motivation to be here? The whole thing was so odd she just didn’t understand what crazy world she’d fallen into. Perhaps she was strapped down to a bed somewhere crazy out of her mind. Next thing she knew she’d wake up in the Asylum.
Doone came into the room in dog form and just stared at her with his big puppy dog eyes. He almost looked sad. She didn’t know what to say or think. She felt violated. She felt invigorated. She felt crazy. She felt loved.
Memorial Day
Posted on | May 31, 2010 | Comments Off
In Memory of all of those of who have given their lives for our country…
We remember and we honor you today.
The Dog (pt 16)
Posted on | May 31, 2010 | Comments Off
Doone was out back tending to the BBQ and she thought it smelled marvelous. She’d been stressed out all week and this was a wonderful way to end the three day weekend.
She stepped out onto the porch and watched the birds and the squirrels play. It was a woodland creature’s little paradise back here and she loved it.
“Doone, do you need anything?”
“No, I’m fine for now Mistress”
And with that she went inside to check on her potato salad to see if it needed any last minute spicing up. The smell of the BBQ was almost hypnotic and she found herself in a dream state where she envisioned Doone not as a dog, but as a man standing at the BBQ. She swayed a bit in the kitchen as she smiled to herself and took in the aroma. Wow. This was powerful.
She quickly set the table with her colorful fiestaware dishes, selecting the more patriotic colors out of the bunch, and got out condiments and the other side dishes. She still couldn’t help but feel dreamy as she went through her preparations.
She popped open a rootbeer (since she didn’t drink of course) and sat down at the table for a moment to steady herself when in walked the handsome man that she’d been daydreaming about carrying the plate of burgers. He set the plate down on the table as her eyes widened in fear.
“It’s me” he said.
A darkened hallway
Posted on | May 30, 2010 | Comments Off
She sat staring at the darkened hallway wishing it lead to somewhere exciting. She wondered how many other people were staring at this very moment at darkened hallways of their own, dreaming of another life. Perhaps they were dreaming of a life they had once known, or maybe they too were dreaming of a life full of new possibilities.
What she should be doing was cleaning not dreaming. The house was a mess. She thought about how she let things go…when she wasn’t really sure. She could use her injury as an excuse but before that it was when she was working so many hours or hmm…what was her excuse before that? There was always some reason for the clutter. The clutter was a mirror image of her brain. Stuff and more stuff all around. She liked stuff. She liked to shop. She liked things. Things to remind her of this and that. Things to make her feel better. Things that were possibilities waiting to happen. Things that would one day become other things if she would just take the time to transform them.
She needed to reduce the clutter. A lot of her mental clutter had been reduced with the addition of the scary pill. (It had become less scary the more she had taken it though she still felt like a zombie the better part of the morning.) It was hard for her to let go of things as she was very sentimental and so this was going to be a difficult task if and when she chose to undertake it. It needed to be done. So, she would have to find a way to separate herself from her emotions long enough to separate herself from some of these things that were cluttering her surroundings. (Before she was completely overtaken.)
She wished there was an easy out to this, a magic wand she could wave and everything would magically have a place (and be in it) when she was done *poof* and voila clean room. Hooray! But … alas … no such wand. No such easy way out. Perhaps some aliens would arrive and upon their arrival would engage in conversation and during said conversation would happen to share some technology that would make housecleaning and clutter organizing easy. Right. Wow. She was hoping for a lot. Like she’d have a conversation with an alien and they’d give her housekeeping tech over Red Rose tea. Fantastic. And she thought she wasn’t crazy.
She stared out into the darkened hallway, dreaming it was a different hallway, one that lead out into a different house, a nice clean, orderly house of her future and smiled. Some day. . .
Evening Out Without
Posted on | May 30, 2010 | Comments Off
She returned home from a dinner party exhausted and a bit sad that she could no longer “partake” the same way as the old days. Her joyous medications did not mix with alcohol so she had given it up completely. Probably best as alcohol didn’t mix well with her, period. She found herself watching as bottle after bottle of wine was opened and consumed by happy party guests and fun was had by all. (well, most) She was the only one who did not get up and dance.
She wondered how these same guests would be if they too were forced to have a sober evening. Would they be having as much fun? Would they still be up and dancing? Was it just the mix of company that made the party what it was or was it the alcohol easing it along?
She enjoyed the food and some conversation and silently wished to herself that she could be someone else for a night, but she knew the closest she would come to a drink was her rum flavored lip gloss. It was for the best, for many reasons, and she knew that.
She got home and took her first nightly dose of medication, one of the medications that helped with the pain and headaches. She supposed it was worth it. . .
RIP Gary Coleman and Dennis Hopper
Posted on | May 29, 2010 | Comments Off
She wasn’t sure how to describe exactly how she felt over the loss of two actors over the last couple days. Obviously she didn’t know these men personally, but they both had come into her home via TV and movies and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss, but also a reminder of her own mortality. Gary Coleman wasn’t all that much older than she was and though plagued with health issues all his life, she still felt a chill just thinking about his early death.
Dennis Hopper’s career may have been a roller coaster in between his drug and alcohol use, but there were some good movies in there. He was one of those actors that you just enjoyed watching even if he wasn’t the “main event” and she definitely felt that the world had lost something with his passing. He would be missed, at least by her, and she looked forward to watching a marathon of his movies in tribute.
She figured that the coming days would be scattered with these death notices as actors she’d grown up with either passed of natural causes or as in the case of Corey Haim and Britney Murphy, died of complications from an illness while having a drug problem and caused a big scandal. Oh we must not forget Michael Jackson, dying from the medication given to him to sleep which is usually used as anesthesia. (Ridiculous!!!) And suicides. And accidents. People would be dying. That’s life. You get older and you watch the people around you die, until it’s your turn.
Funny how the job she loved involved trying to keep people from dying, and how she wasn’t always successful. One minute a patient would be alive, and the next they weren’t. There was something very special about being there the moment someone died. Whatever you may believe, you can feel something happen during that time if you pay attention.
She thought about the Uncle she recently buried and the last time she saw him, both alive and dead. She thought about her brother and how she wished she could have been there for the moment he died. She hoped he knew she loved him. She thought about her own death, and that she hoped it wouldn’t be too hard for her family, that she lived a long and happy (ok, well, long) life so they didn’t whisper “it was much too soon” at her funeral. . .
Blocked
Posted on | May 28, 2010 | Comments Off
She sat frustrated as she had many nights, wanting to write, but having trouble putting the words together. She almost felt as if there was some expectation of her that she wasn’t going to meet, so why bother trying. That wasn’t the case of course. This was her world. No one else mattered. Her insanity and characters could come and go as she pleased, all products of her imagination, her audience was probably that as well.
She remembered how easy it once was, to just close her eyes and go to another place. How one single object in a room could take her to another place and time and somehow she could transfer her thoughts into words…how easy things seemed to be… before. Funny how we always look back and think how things seemed so much better, so much easier, so much *something*… before.
Things were different now. The anticipation of the wedding and wearing the ruffled dress was over. There were different things to look forward to, other things that had been put on hold that now had to be faced. Life was proving to be more of a challenge in this “new normal” state since the injury that took away her dream career. She continuously bounced around the stages of grief and loss and wondered if it would ever end. Today she was angry. She just wanted all the pain to be gone. Emotional and physical.
Sitting in the darkened room lit only by the screen of her laptop, she wondered if she would ever feel truly happy.
Hello out there
Welcome to Company Needs Misery. If you like the site, please bookmark it and come back often. You never know what crazy ramblings you will find when you return. Feel free to use the contact form to introduce yourself or give any input if you aren't into commenting on the entries themselves. Any and all feedback is welcome. Spam is not. Spam of the cyber nature is mean and Spam of the food nature is gross. Thank you for taking the time to look the place over. And please remember, this website in no way replaces therapy from a professional so please consult a physician if you are in crisis. Thanks. ~C
P.S. In order to enjoy the full progression of the writing, you may wish to start at the beginning of my ramblings.