I know I'm having a bad day when I make a "quick" stop at the liquor store & end up dropping almost $50.  Don't get me wrong, it was only 3 bottles, but they were pretty big bottles - Absolut Citron vodka, Arbor Mist blackberry merlot, and Bacardi pina colada on the rocks if you're curious.

 

Part of my bad mood was doubtless due to the rain ... all day grey & pouring down, making the hems of my jeans wet, making my hair frizz, making the traffic slow ... making me generally grumpy.  Work is hectic also, but work is always hectic somehow.

 

Anyway, I remember a while ago I posted that if I started posting here every time I wanted to rant, I would post a lot more LOL.  I don't know that I'm ranting, more kind of grumbling quietly at this point, but it's still venting & makes me feel a little better =)

 

Thanks for reading.

 

~Colette

Volatility

I've come to the conclusion - for probably the hundredth or thousandth time - that I've got a rather volatile personality.  It really doesn't take much to make my mood swing from being perfectly happy to absolutely pissed off.  Bi-polar almost, although I've read that "real" bi-polar swings last 2-3 days.

The thing is, I have so many people ready to make me mad - perfect strangers at times, I get severe road-rage  with the quickness on a bad day - but I don't have anybody around to make me smile.  To give me a hug.  To just listen to me.  All I have to resort to is distraction, books, nails, blogs ... but it's all so solitary that I'm just reminded how much I hate being alone.  And then instead of going from mad to happy, or maybe just neutral, I just go from mad to sad.  Depressed.  Overly stressed.  And, still, lonely.  Which is just fucking retarded because I don't like most people & social situations make me physically ill.  There's a catch 22 for you.

Anyway, poetry has always been an outlet for me to vent through.  Well, maybe not always, but since I was a teenager, and all of my adult life.  I'm only learning lately that I can find as much relief in prose as in verse.  Thus these monthly rants followed by small snatches of whatever is churning inside of me put into poetry:

Sick to death of going solo

But scared stiff by the group

Marching off-beat of the drum

Feeling so out of the loop

Thanks for reading.

~Colette

Today (Rant + Poem)

What a hell of a fucked up day at work.  Where should I start?  

 

The courtesy calls that we've had to do the last couple of weeks to help out another department?  Keep in mind that I HATE being on the phone PERIOD, especially much when I'm making a pointless call to stupid people who ask dumb questions?

Or maybe the guy who didn't like the answer my boss told me to give him & is now threatening legal action against the company?  This also involving lots of phone work that made my stomach churn

Or yet another phone call, for a child support order, to a place that couldn't even get our company name right, and why in the world don't these places have different forms for employees vs. subcontractors?!  Because we sure the hell have to keep them separate & it is a total hassle when something comes for one of our subs with "employee" "employer" & "employment" all over it.  

Or maybe the fact that even on a good day - which is rare - shit even on the best possible scenario of a day - which has never happened - I HATE my job?  Like the people ... some of them ... but really only stay there because it's stable & I need the insurance.

If you've ever heard the term, "too smart for your own good" I can tell you that they could very well have been talking about me.  I am a perfectionist, which will come as no surprise to any who've read me pick apart minor flaws in my manicures.  This means that if I find a problem, I can't ignore it without having it bother me - yet if I bring it to light, I know that I'm going to be held accountable for fixing it.  Even if I have no idea how & it's nowhere near my job description.

/sigh

Getting this all off my chest now, before I do my yoga, so that afterward I can go to my happy place & blog about stuff that doesn't piss me totally off.  Hell, for sure I'll post more here if I use it as my ranting ground.  Because I could probably crank out a pretty good rant every day after work.  And even a little poem to go with it:

 

Too smart for my own good

Tired to the point I'm numb

Frustrated to the point of no return

Not smart enough to play it dumb

Thanks for reading.

~Colette

Poem

My parents are arguing ... which they do a lot.  I suppose odds are high that Mom will eventually read this, although I'm not sure how much attention she, or anyone, pays to this blog, but it's really hard to listen to them & not let it effect me.  I broke up with my ex because we argued too much, and sometimes I wonder how, sometimes even why, my parents are still together.  It makes me want to cry.  The arguments themselves, what they argue over, the fact that most of the time I feel me being here doesn't help anything either, even though I'm contributing, even though I'm keeping food on the table I wonder if they'd be better off without me still here.  I may not be the stereotypical 30-year old in the basement, but I'm creeping up on that horrible milestone from my 2nd-floor bedroom.

I was in an OK place, almost a good place when I came home, now I feel myself slipping into a darker place.  A good place for writing LOL.  Ironic.  Or something.

They argue, squabble, speak hurtful words

While everything unsaid also goes unheard

True path untrod, true love unheeded

Unwell, unwanted, in the end, unneeded
Such comfort in a lover's arms

Until that comfort turns to harm

Intentionally push, push, close to the edge

Until you are pushed, pushed over the ledge

No warmth in the heart, no peace in the home

Although I am so lonely, I would rather be alone

When there's so much inside, I feel like I need a way to pour it out, and even dark poetry that I'm not totally happy with is a better outlet than what I used to do.  Venting/ranting helps a little too, which I didn't used to have an outlet for.  So even though under normal circumstances I might consider this TMI to post, I'm going to do so as a catharsis.

Thanks for reading.

~Colette