When Betty Cracked Bobs to the Surface

The office gets treats today

Cinnamon biscuits with homemade powdered sugar frosting.

(One pan down, one to go, and I swear I’m not taking any home)

I’ve been in a definite “Betty Cracked” mood, lately, feeling the urge to bake, but with no one to bake for.

And I sure as hell don’t need those sweet, baked, gooey, usually chocolate…calories, for myself.

So, today the ladies at the office get the fruits of my baked brain.

My depression is still there, and I had a flare-up of extra-heated irritation at work today. I’m still clenching my teeth, and honing for a cigarette, but I’m working on it.

Head down, nose to myself, music on…leave me to figure it out.

I need to go home, clean the house, turn the music. Up LOUD!! And bake something else.

But, again, I don’t need the results.

Maybe my kids need to come home & relieve me of the cookies I don’t need, that I know are going to get put in that damned jar on the counter within the next couple days.

Fuggghhh….

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The Ghost In The House

Just this week…

I’ve had an electric bill delivered to my mail box, with my address, but not my name on the envelope.

I wrote “Return to sender, no such person at this address” on it & threw it back in the mail.

And – 

Today, when I got home from work, there was a package on my front step, delivered by UPS, that had my address, but someone else’s name, and a COMPANY NAME on the box.

I had to call UPS to have a driver return & pick up the box.

Twice in one week?

Maybe the ghost in the house is me…..

Just Some Thoughts

I’m still not processing things very well.

I sit in silence most nights, reading. I haven’t even been working out, even though I know I should, I just don’t have the motivation. I come home from work, & I immediately burrow under my blanket with my Kindle & dig into whatever I’m currently reading, only pausing to eat, shower, & go to bed. 

Maybe taking a short break for a phone call, if one happens to come through. 

But, there’s no spark, no gumption, no fire of get-up-and-go there, right now. 

I’m on the down side of depression, with a large slice of anxiety mixed in. 

I feel numb, most of the time, as though I’m no one. Nothing. Nothing matters, nothing changes, and no one sees it.

I hide, I camouflage very well within my masks. It’s a game I learned a long time ago, and I’m good at it.

No one knocks on my door.

The ones who call are all long distance, so they don’t see the day-to-day emotional distance I’ve erected between myself and the rest of the world. 

The locals don’t call.

There are some, that only know me through here, anymore, even though they are local. The only time they think of me is if I write here, but, then I fade from their thoughts as quickly as the words vanish from view off their screens.

I am transitory entertainment…

There are days when I feel like a drive through. You pull up, receive an order, a dose of whatever’s on the menu for that day…and drive on. You don’t look back or wonder about how the girl in the window is getting along. You’ve gotten what you came for, & you’re done. 

Moving on.

Everyone is always moving on.

I sit in the window, watching, expressionless, waiting for the next car.

There’s a Road That Takes Me Home

I have P!nk’s song stuck in my head…

There’s a road that takes me home

Take me fast

Or take me slow

Throw my head out the window

Feel the wind

Make me whole…

I don’t mind…I love her new CD, Beautiful Trauma, & have all the songs downloaded to my mp3 player so I can listen to them while I’m at work, mixed in with all my other music. 

It’s just that hook…on a loop, though…

Oh well

At least it’s not Christmas music.

Speaking of Christmas…

SadHeart ๐Ÿ’™ is coming to visit for Christmas. 

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, a lot of emailing with him, & some introverted soul-searching.

And, I’ve cone to the conclusion that – I’m 47. I’m not going to find love by conventional methods, because I’m not a conventional woman (stop laughing, yahoos), so I’m going to explore the opportunity that has been presented to me.

๐Ÿ’™ has been generous enough to offer to fly here from the state & city he lives in, just to meet me. This was one of the major problems I had with E – getting him to actually show up after all the promises he made, & ๐Ÿ’™ has not only come up with this on his own, it was not a promise, simply a “I want to meet you, so I’m going to do this”.

I need to meet that kind of courage and strength of character with my own courage, & not shy away from the possibility that he might be just what I’m looking for. I’ll never know if I don’t try, right?

So, company’s coming for the holidays.

Time to get out the decorations, I guess.

A Rumble of Winter Thunder

I’ve met someone.

And I’m being very careful, cautious & quiet about this.

For now.

Like a slow rumble of winter thunder…

You hear it in the distance, but you can’t be sure if it’s really what you think, or if it’s something else. Rare in its occurrence, you strain to hear it again, wanting to make sure it’s real before nodding your head in agreement.

So I’m holding off before I speak anymore.

Dim The Lights

And so we come once again to November, one of my least favored months of the year, containing my least favorite holiday.

Actually, I could do away with Thanksgiving altogether, and never miss it.

I think I’ve borne a deep-seated resentment towards this holiday since I was a child, to be honest, and I’ll tell you why.

As a kid, Thanksgiving meant having to dress up, and stay dressed up, All Damn Day. As a tomboy, this was one of the worst possible punishments you could inflict on me. I loathed wearing dresses, and having to wear one for a whole day… Not being able to climb trees with the cousins, or scurry up and down the cliff behind our house – hell – simply having to stay clean all day… It was hell.

And OK, the food thing was alright, but I was always a picky eater, so I pretty much stuck to turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing & corn. No funky salads, no strange fruity jello things, nothing unidentifiable, thanks. Pumpkin pie for dessert, with plenty of whipped cream, & I was done.

And then… Ultimate boredom set in.

The menfolk took over the living room to watch football, while the women ruled the kitchen.

There was nowhere for a tomboy cursed to wearing a dress for the day to go!

Gah!

I usually ended up sitting in my room, playing records on my record player, wishing I could change into my ratty jeans & scuttle down the cliff to the freedom of the river below. 

No joy. The maternal police in the kitchen guarded the stairway & would’ve caught me.

As a grownup, I became resigned to the holiday – until my brother destroyed it a few years ago for me with his hate-filled email one year, & a ranting phone call another year.

I… Quite simply… HATE … Thanksgiving with pretty much every fiber of my being.

And yet – every year, I’m forced to partake in this much-loathed ritual, to make my parents happy.

*sigh* 

At least I don’t have to explain why Mom asks me to make the pumpkin pie every year anymore, since my sibling & his family moved away. 

I wish I could say no.

I wish I could be far away this year & not have to “do” Thanksgiving.

I’ve never really seen the true need for this holiday. A secular holiday “celebrating” something that ended up being basically a farce? Pilgrims & natives eating together in thanks? And then European settlers basically trying to destroy the natives in their greed for land and domination? 

Why are we giving thanks again?

I’m thankful most of the year for what I have, I don’t need this one freaking day to remind me to give thanks – thanks anyway.

And shitty things always seem to happen at this time of year, so I walk around, cringing, waiting for the other shoe to hit me on the back of the head.

I’d like to just fit a dimmer switch on November… Turn it down, gradually, a bit at a time…until that day rolls around… And I can just dim the lights & pretend to not be home?