Big, fat deal.

So Greg and I went down to Kings Dominion this weekend for an event with some of our new friend circle. I'll admit that while I had quite a blast (and him as well, I think)... I'm starting to realize that in a lot of ways, I'm starting to get old - or at least set in my ways. I just wasn't that eager to get on rides and be flipped upside down, feel G-forces making my heart race, any of that. The few that I did get on were sedate, quiet, even boring.

I'll also make a confession here - I just wasn't willing to be squeezed into a ride, either. Let's face it, people - while I can still get into a standard amusement park ride, I'm overweight (okay, fat, if you will) enough to not be too damned comfortable in them. And I'm sorry, folks - but that's a problem. I consider that a problem.

I spent half of the day wondering if I was going to be able to fit into the lap bars on the rides - and that's not a good feeling, ladies and gentlemen. Nor is it a good feeling to look around you and literally notice that you're the biggest person in line. Not necessarily in the park - but in line. Big difference. Maybe it was just paranoia, but I could feel peoples' eyes on me. "What's that big girl doing in the line? Does she think she can squeeze her fat ass into that seat? Bahahaha, that's a good one!"

I still can, yes, but that's not the point here.

The point is that it's gotten to a point where it's just not comfortable for me anymore to be what I am, physically. I'm suffering health problems, and I know it. It remains to be seen if the health problems I have are the cause of my weight, however - and we're investigating that. There's a damned good possibility that it really IS medical in nature. I know, I know, every overweight person claims that, but in my case it may be true. I've had a hormonal imbalance for years, decades, and it's run riot, completely unchecked. My OB is investigating that - that's why all of the nasty medical procedures recently.

If that's the cause of it - great. I'm looking forward to dropping a few pounds, trust me. If it's not... well, then, I know what my next step is.

As someone who's been overweight for most of her life, I will say this - don't ever believe that overweight is caused by too much eating and nothing else. It can be, sure, but it's often not the reason. Sometimes the reason is not eating enough.

Greg pointed out to me over the weekend that I don't eat nearly enough, which causes me to binge when I finally do get around to eating - and he's right. That's exactly what I do. I try to make up for all of the meals I should have eaten in one setting - then I'm sick for days and won't eat again. A vicious, severely unhealthy cycle.... that I'm going to try and break. If I can. I hope I can.

Some of this is psychological, I'm almost sure of that. Because of all of the abuse I've been through, both childhood and adulthood, I probably feel so unworthy that I don't eat at all - after all, I'm overweight, why should I stuff my face? Never mind that stuffing my face, in my case, equals fueling my body in order to survive.

Wow, tears. Lots of tears. I guess this is a frontier of my cracked mind that I haven't explored yet... but after all, it's such a huge (hah, hah) part of my psyche, damaged though it may be. I have to confront it eventually, and I guess that I'm far enough in my healing that it should be now. I'm just so afraid that I'll uncover shit I don't want to uncover, and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to handle that, if that's so.

Greg says that he loves me the way I am. He has no idea how much that means to me, because I've never felt like anyone ever did, that I've had to fundamentally change in order to be accepted and cared about. For once in my life... I don't feel like I have to be someone else.

And maybe that's the key to my finally losing weight... knowing that even if I don't drop a pound, an inch, if the scale never changes again... that I'm still loved.

More bitching. Lucky you.

There's a lot of things that have been going on as of late, but for some reason I haven't felt the need to really describe them. Unfortunately, my mental health as of late hasn't been too good, although as usual I give off the appearance that everything is fine. I'll tell you, if I had wanted to, I would have made a mighty fine actress - though in truth I think it's that people see what they want to see. But, anyway.

This time of the year is never good for me, because my dreaded birthday is this month, toward the last 2 weeks. Just as I didn't share when it was last year, I won't do it this year, either. I just don't want to think about it, or celebrate it in any way. This might sound really bad, but I don't see the day I was born as something to celebrate or anything particularly noteworthy. It's a day like any other. It's a day where I made an appearance in a world that I never wanted to be in.

Unfortunately, what's happening at work is coloring a lot of my outlook right now, and a lot of it is not too pleasing to me at the moment. It's a long story, but there's a lot of changes going on and it's not for the better in my view. I am tired of the idiots I have to deal with day in and day out, I'm sick of explaining myself over and over and over and over and over (when anyone with a fucking brain can understand what I say), I'm tired of dealing with the dregs of society who do nothing but leech off of the system and do nothing to fucking help themselves. I'm sick of dealing with fucking urine and people who don't have the basic fucking sense to wear a goddamn sanitary pad or tampon when they're fucking bleeding. I'm tired of dealing with people who deliberately piss on the floor, don't flush the fucking toilets after themselves... this is the bullshit I have to deal with day in and day fucking out here. I'm utterly SICK of it.

I didn't mean this to turn into a rant, but in truth I guess that's what it is. Fuck it. Ask me if I care what anyone thinks.

Yes, I know, I'm grateful to have a job, blah blah. It's still my blog and I'll bitch if I choose.

Wish that I had some better news to report, but the truth is that there isn't.

I'm doing okay with my classes, at least that, though the math is giving me trouble as per usual. Screw it - I'm going for a criminal justice major, not a math major - as long as I get my C, fuck it. So far I'm managing to pass it, and if I stay there, all is well.

That's about it. Sorry that it's not more exciting or that I'm not in a better mood, but if you know me by now, you know that you either take what you get with me at the time, or you're welcome to walk. I could care less either way.

'night for now.

A mish-mash of jumbled thoughts all wrapped into one pretty package.

I've been snowed in over here for the last week. Haven't had to work or deal with drug addicts or urine for nearly 7 days now. However, during the course of this massive storm, I've had to check every day for the operating status of the gubmint - there's a special website we go to in order to know whether we're open or closed - and in the course of reading several federal-related blogs, I've come across sentiments like these below:

"Those of us who work for a living are honored to support your lazy butt staying in bed...it isn't as if you woulda done anything had you been there!

Yep, what we need is bigger Government!"

(Taken from The Federal Eye, 2/10/09)

Or...

"The federal workers who had a day off today should have been required to shovel snow."

Or this little gem here...

"The Federal Government -- great "work" (and I'm using that term very loosely-- if you can get it. For us poor schmucks out in the occupied provinces who have to pick up the tab, it's not so good."

Okay. This is all I've got to say about this bullshit above -

1.) I'd telework if I could do so, but it's a little difficult taking urine over the Internet. If anyone's got a way to do this, bring it on and let me know, because I'd have rather worked than spent this entire week snowbound at home. It's not like I could get out of my house, anyway.

2.) The Washington Metro subway isn't running. Neither are the MARC trains. What do people expect me to do, walk from Baltimore? It's not happening. I can't even get down to Calvert Street, never mind D.C. If the public transportation doesn't run, neither do I. You tell me what to do, should I hang on to the back of a fucking snowplow?

3.) If you had to work all this week in a snowstorm, blame your employer - not me. I don't set your hours. If it were up to me, I'd let everyone have a free week off, pay you, the whole deal. This wasn't a vacation for me. I spent 3 out of the last 7 days going stir fucking crazy in this house - I know I've had at least one depressive attack, if not more. So as far as I'm concerned, those who are complaining can shove it up their asses.

This has been the biggest snowstorm.. well, ever. This is unprecedented. We here in Baltimore/D.C. are not used to this bullshit, this isn't Minnesota. People should not expect us to know what to do in a situation like this, because it's never happened. We just have no clue about how to cope.

In other news... I'm upset about my checking account. Some company on the Internet decided to pluck my debit card number out of thin air and run 320 dollars' worth of charges on my account. That was pretty much my entire paycheck for the next 2 weeks, so I'm needless to say furious. I've disputed the charges, of course, but since this is my checking account, I literally have no money until the next payday. In some ways, I'm lucky that I didn't have to work this week, because I'd be in serious trouble if I had. My debit card is my lifeline, literally, and the fact that I had to cancel it, that is also a source of fury. I knew that number backward and forward to the point where I didn't even need the actual card itself. Now I have to memorize a whole new number - good luck with that.

I'm working it out, but in the meantime I'm fucked. I will say one thing - do not, do not, do not do any business with a place called Digital River - they're somewhere in the wilds of fucking Minnesota. Apparently they handle some antivirus shit. I don't need such services, so I know damned well these charges are unfuckingauthorized. But I'll get it taken care of. I've reported them to the BBB, too. Let's see how they enjoy that little piece of news.

I did, however, pay off a good chunk of my debts this week. I'm not sure of how much credit-to-debit ratio I have now, but I know it's under 40%. That's good. That's VERY good.

Anyway, hopefully they'll clear these streets up soon so I can get out of here for a while. I don't really want to go back to work, but if they do call open tomorrow, it'll be okay - it's Friday. Won't be much going on.

No word on the crim grades yet. Doing well in the math course, surprisingly. And the IFSM is disgustingly easy. So far.

Okay, that's it for now. Nothing else doing.

An open letter to the people I serve at work. Part II.

This is in continuation of the original letter that I had written in August. Now that the holidays are here, you and I need to get a few more things straight, Mr. or Ms. D.C. Drug Addict. Ready? I just know you are.

1.) There's a reason behind everything we ask you. When we tell you to hang your coats up on the hooks outside the bathroom door - do it. Don't give us an argument about how all of the money you own is in the pockets - if you're smart, you wouldn't announce that anyway - or how you're worried about someone stealing it. It's not possible, the hall is videotaped. The fact is, coats aren't allowed in the bathrooms. Deal with it.

2.) Do NOT assume we have public toilets. Do NOT come into this unit and just barge your way back into the bathrooms. This is not a public facility. If you're not testing, or being escorted, you need to find a bathroom elsewhere. Stay the fuck out of ours. I had one lady who was scared shitless because one of you idiots barged right in on her while she's trying to wipe herself, for fuck's sake. If you're not testing, you don't belong back there - STAY OUT.

3.) Don't dump your shit all over the counter. If I give you a paper to sign, it means you're finished with my part of the process. It does NOT mean that you then dump a bag of 19, 20 medications out in front of me and expect me to write them down. You are supposed to show me your medications BEFORE you sign, not after. If I have to write down all of your medications (which can take up to 20 minutes depending on how much you take), it means I have to start the whole sign-in process from the beginning. I am not inclined to do this, nor will I take kindly to you if I'm forced to do it. Show me your medications when you first come in here. It'll make it easier for both of us.

4.) Communicate properly. I speak English and very limited Spanish. I do NOT speak "Mumble". When you come up to me, speak clearly and intelligbly. Don't expect me to understand what you're saying if you come up going "nonfivetreesicktoofoh". The last I heard, the number 9 was pronounced "nine", 4 is "four" and not "foh". I understand about accents, but this shit I'm hearing from you all borders on another language, and I don't speak it. So make an effort and make sense.

5.) Control your crotchfruit. I understand that a lot of you have children. I also understand that sometimes you're not going to have people to watch them and you have to drag them with you into the unit, as sad as that is. That's fine. But if you do bring them in here - CONTROL them. The benches are not there to be jumped off of, nor are the line posts there to be played with. This is not a playground. If your precious darling busts their head open, that's your fault for not watching them, not ours, though I'm sure you'll try to sue us anyway. Gotta get your drug money from somewhere, right?

I'm sure more will come up, eventually, but this will do for part 2, anyway. And as an aside to my coworkers - get a fucking life, most of you are just as idiotic as the "customers".

Rant over.

Feeling sad and down.

I haven't been feeling real well as of late, as most of you already know. I was diagnosed with a viral infection and was ordered to stay home for part of the week - something I absolutely hate to do, I have the sick time but I don't like to take it - so I've been feeling like crap for the most part. My mental state has also not been good, for a couple of reasons....

What I am about to say may offend the few friends that I have left. If it does offend you, all that I can say is that I'm sorry, and that it's how I feel, and one of the things that I need to be in order to cope with my mental illness is honest with myself.

Some of what is making me sad right now is that I seem to be losing a lot of friends to what I call "The Great Pregnancy Wave of 2009". They're getting pregnant and... losing their sense of identity. Know what I mean? Suddenly it's "the baby" this, "the baby" that, here's the baby clothes baby crib baby sonograms baby names baby baby baby babybabybabybabybaby....

What happened to YOU? My friend? The one who has a separate identity from this person that is now apparently inside of them and has taken over every aspect of your life?

Look, I understand that it's an exciting time in someone's life, for those who choose to or can have children. And that's great, I'm happy for you - honestly. But when it starts to BE your whole life... it gets to be monotonous, boring, and for those who CAN'T have children, hurtful - because it makes them feel even less of a person than they already do. I have one friend that has not posted any kind of an update or has talked about ANYTHING other than her new baby... in over a year. Every single sentence is about how precious and sweet and beautiful her baby is, it cooed, it grinned, it belched, it threw up, etc. Not ONE word about how HER life is, how she feels, what she wants or needs. It's as if she has ceased to exist.

I am starting to realize that I have less and less in common with ANYONE anymore.

What bothers me even more than this, however, is that I'm doing my best to strike out and meet new people... and the people that I meet always have something about them that is a total dealbreaker.

This example is purely hypothetical - but please keep it in mind, because the real situation isn't that far off from what I'm about to tell you.

I met a person recently that I had a lot in common with, and we got along quite well... until they revealed to me that they absolutely despise homosexuals. And I mean DESPISES them - thinks that they should be stoned, thinks them ignorant and stupid and blah blah blah, so on and so on. I felt sick... because I don't at ALL feel that way. And the more I think about it, the more I don't want to hang around this person, even though it's the first friendship I've managed to make since Christ-knows-when.

It's ripping me up. Because even though I like this person, I cannot deal with the hatred. It's awful. It's senseless. And for me, it's a dealbreaker. I've felt horrible ever since that last conversation, because I can't bring myself to call them or to Email them or anything... I just don't want to know anymore. What if I were homosexual, or black, or whatever else one can think of that's been a target of hatred over the years? Would this person feel differently about me? How are they going to react when they find out I'm severely overweight? Will I change in their eyes?

It's a risk I don't want to take. It's a risk that I CAN'T take.

It hurts that there's still so much hatred in this world. It's why I've retreated for so long into a shell that I just don't want to come out of. Call me foolish for still desiring some utopia that will never exist, but... I have no room in my life for people that hate. I just can't and won't put up with it.

Consequently I feel very sad and just... flat today. I hope things get better. :(