I want to be crafting, not blogging. There’s a reason that I’m not and it involves the Fluffy Little Fucker, and letting my girlfriend sleep.

You see, I failed to plan accordingly, and though I have projects out here, I can’t really work on them because in all cases there is one essential part I need locked in my office with the howling fur demon from hell.

Let’s back that up a bit. Last night we tried an experiment. Usually we lock the cat in the office when we go to bed. We decided to let the cat “sleep” in the main room with us. He didn’t do a lot of sleeping. And neither did I. On the one hand, it was very sweet that all he wanted was to nuzzle my hand. On the other hand, all I really wanted to do was sleep. And because I was half asleep through all this, it never occurred to me to lock him back in the office. This makes me the dumb ass in this scenario.

After about 5 hours of this bullshit, it finally occurred to me to put the little asshole back in the office. The problem is, the process of getting up and doing this woke me up. I’ve been awake ever since. After about half an hour, the cat finally quit howling his indignation, and Aack was able to go back to sleep.

After an hour of laying in bed I finally gave up and started reading. I’m currently reading The Subversive Stitch, which is a wonderful book, but I can’t read more than 3 pages before I have a deep seated need to go make something. And therein lies the problem: every project I have out here requires something from the room with the howling beast in it. And Aack is still sleeping. And since it’s my fault we were up until 3 this morning, I really feel I should let her.

So I’m blogging. Under protest. Because it’s something I can make, even if it doesn’t involve a needle and thread.

Fucking cat.

Grrrr… I HATE HORMONES!

Wednesday involved the period from hell. Once or twice a year I get this nightmare period that is incredibly painful and involves insanely heavy bleeding and the whole nine yards. (You really don’t want to hear about the whole nine yards.) That’s what I did Wed afternoon and evening. I can do almost nothing else while it happens. Once it finally ends for the day, I usually get a day or so to rest, then it starts up again.

So, yesterday, almost nothing. Just now, another round of heavy bleeding. So now emotionally I’m fine, or at least able to cope again. (Anything I feel is exaggerated right before my period starts. I try to pretend it’s psychosomatic, but its not. If there is nothing wrong, I will FIND something to be wrong. I hate it. I hate that I fit a stereotype about women. I hate that it means when something really IS wrong, people can brush it off as my period. I’ve finally learned that I have to wait at least three days to make sure any crisis is a real crisis. I hate having to second guess myself like that. I FUCKING HATE HORMONES!)

I’m exhausted, and feel like I could sleep, but now I have to go do laundry to save my off-white khakis.

I hate hormones. I really really hate hormones. And I’m not too fond of any of the other “benefits” the menstrual cycle has to offer either. BLEH!!!

It’s been a long day. I feel alternately like an emotional wreck and like there is great hope for me, for life, for the universe. My life is in transition. There is a hole inside me, but it is a necessity. My mother once told me that for something new to come into your life you have to make room for it… and that is usually in the form of a hole. Having the hole is hard, and it hurts, but I embrace it with a certain hopefulness through my tears; something new is coming.

Part of it is already here. I am able to look forward without fear. Something changed within Monacita and my relationship, and I realized that she is a friend. It’s been a very long time since I’ve opened my heart and made a friend. I’ve spent a long time hiding a secret part of me away from people who didn’t already know it was there.

I don’t know how to explain the sense of comfort, joy, and trust in this discovery. Perhaps it was there all along and I just never noticed. Perhaps it is new. But ultimately it doesn’t matter because it is there now, and it makes me happy.

My life is in a weird place right now… but it is a good place, a hopeful place. It’s a hard place, but nothing truly worth doing is ever easy.

There are tears running down my cheeks, but there is no fear in my heart.
It’s an amazing feeling.

Oh for fuck’s sake… That Dumb Bitch (a.k.a. Flower Britches) just called to let me know that Dr. Phil was on with a bunch of women who had struggled to lose weight, but finally prevailed. They were telling how they did it. She found it inspiring, and thought I should know so I have the option of watching.

I feel all American at this point; over weight, out of work, and desperately seeking instant gratification.

(The instant gratification is in the form of an IEEE case for my 80 gig drive so I have more than 400 meg of free hard drive space on Astropop’s hard drive.)

blah.