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11/2: Sometimes I feel so ghetto. I have worn the same clothes for many years and when I do go shopping, it's twice a year for one shirt. Maybe a dress, depending on whether I feel like a lady. (That made it seem like I was a transgender, but I'm not.) The moral of the story is that my husband has more clothes than me. Don't know how that happened. Never mind, I know. His mother works at Kohl's and keeps buying him clothes with her discount. I guess that's OK, but... he doesn't wear the clothes! He's a dude!
Still have "Pour Some Sugar on Me" stuck in my head. Nothing else to be said for it.
Sometimes I feel like God hates me because I don't trust him, but the reality is that he's probably up there shaking his head at me and waiting for me to come to him. I wish I had a sincere heart, but I never feel like I'm totally sincere. Like I don't love anything purely. I just do it because I'm supposed to do it. I don't do anything out of enjoyment, really. I do what's expected, and I am an empty shell.
So Kevin Spacey is a pervert, too. I don't know if all this is true or not, but I bet it is. People would have to be very conniving to lie. I hate not being able to believe people when they tell me things. That hurts the most. Thinking you could trust someone, and they turn around and betray you. They don't care, but they expect you to care about them. I don't ask for help and you don't think about me, but that's OK because I am quiet and easily forgotten. Sometimes I wonder if I should just stop talking altogether.
Sitting in a workshop during a break and realized that I almost forgot my 100 words. One of the guys I work with does style guides all wrong. I learned that they're supposed to be short when they're internal, to be used as a quick reference, and I think he's trying to write the next AMA style guide. Some people just love to go long, I suppose. I do the same thing when I actually write, but I haven't written a long thing in a long time. I guess my own story bible is a type of style guide. Keeps my head together.
11/6: Fulton Sheen is the wisest man ever. Well, I guess I should say "was." Harold Bloom and Thomas Sowell are two of the wisest men still living. Wise women... I guess they would be mothers. The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. I don't like this budget stuff. It should be whatever it is. Just monitor the balance and freak out if it gets to be a certain amount. At the end of the pay period, save whatever you do not spend and let that be good enough. Have to take husband to the dentist today.
What year was that? That was back in black and white television. Something crazy my fiance said. I want to hurry up and start the day and wash the dishes and get the chores done and vacuum and figure out what I'm going to be doing. I don't like operating without some kind of plan. But I'll plan as I go, and I'm getting better at doing that.
More and more young kids are stumbling onto porn. Parents, don't let your young kids have devices unsupervised. Really. It's not good. Even with parental controls, it is still very unsafe for them.
My best friend's birthday and the day of our friendship anniversary. It would have been 10 years. We're not friends any more because of some weird crap, but I still took his birthday off work. I was planning to hang out with him. Listen to him talk about superhero movies and strange dreams that will never be fulfilled. He works at Food Lion, or he used to, as far as I know. He is too close to his mother. She is his best friend and has simultaneously helped and hindered him. I wonder if he has to get his levels checked.
Power through it. It takes strength. Sometimes you do need extraordinary strength to get through an ordinary day when the ordinary things pile up and get to be too much for you. An extraordinary headache, if you will. But taking it slow. There is much to be said for taking it slow. Doing one thing at a time, which is hard to do in our age where everything is super fast-paced and nobody can focus on anything for any length of time.
People wish I had Facebook. Huh. Yeah. So I can get caught up in drama again?
I'm really behind with NaNoWriMo and I don't think I'll catch up, nor do I want to. I'd like to write just 500 words a day like I used to, but I think even that's too much to ask. They tell you to make the time, but it's hard when you literally have no time, and you value your sleep because without it, I'd be blinking heavily at the screen with eyes like sandbags. The Internet is a plague, and I'd like to stay away from it anyway.
I will not pick at flaws. I will find the flaws in myself.
He asked me if there was anything wrong. Like all women, I said no when I meant yes. He saw through me and probed until he got to the answer, which I appreciated. Had he took my no literally it would have proved that he didn't care enough to keep pestering me about it. I fell into his arms crying and even though he didn't know what I was crying about, really, he held me all the same because I just want attention. On some level, he understood. Perhaps we have that mental link that binds us closely even in struggle.
Veterans Day. I wonder if there are parades, and if there are, how can I go to one? The laundry is mostly done already! I'm just hoping it gets done quickly. It takes freaking forever.
The dogs at my in-laws' house are finally getting along. Everyone seems like they're not sick of me yet. Well, I'm here to stay now. I don't think my family likes my husband as much as I do, but that's OK. They don't have to like him, just love him, and love can involve staying far away as long as it's done kindly.
We have to pick our pictures pretty soon, or the site will expire. I feel negligent, writing this when I should be actually talking to someone. You can use a blank page. Scribble all over it and use it as a gossip rag because it will never talk back.
He sits at the kitchen table, pondering the jelly on his toast. Is it too much, is it too little? He is like a child who never grew up. Everything negative in him can be equated to a child's tantrum. It's frigid outside, and my hands are frozen to the keyboard.
Agh! Having a great and powerful PMS issue right now. Or at least I think it's PMS. All will be revealed in a few days when I have a period. If I don't, then obviously I must be pregnant and chocolate waffles will be in order.
My husband is the best man on earth. I admire him so much and if he doesn't see that, he's silly. I think everyone else sees the way I look at him, and he doesn't see it. Nobody loves him the way I do. Just like in the oldies song that's been in my head.
Today is the feast of St. Albert! I feel really strange. I'm confused about sex, but I'm not really confused, just frustrated. I know what to do to solve the "problem," but it's not really a problem. It's really a pacing issue, but that was more information than you probably needed to know. All the horrors going on in the world today make you feel like you shouldn't bring children into the world, but that's been the case with every generation. Always feeling like one more kid would make the population explode beyond all reason. It will be just fine.
It's halfway through the month. You can't be afraid of hurting my feelings. You can't be afraid of conflict. Let's get through it. We've known each other long enough to be comfortable around each other. Everything will get better when the communication improves and when the lying stops. Trust me. I'm not throwing you out on the street or on your face. You're not even going on the couch. You're staying in the bed with me because that's where you belong. In my arms. You are my heart's darling, as Faulkner would say. I can't live without you, sweet one.
I really want to write a new story or pick back up with one of my old ones. Thanksgiving is coming up and I will have a little time. It will be amazing. I cooked well for husband last night. He said it was the best food he's ever tasted, better than my mom's or his mom's, and that's saying something. They're not five-star chefs by any means, but they have been cooking for many years. I think next time, I'm going to rub the butter sauce over the tilapia with the back of the spoon so it's spread evenly.
Getting lofty goals for the new year with little hope of actually achieving them. I say that because everything is now so random. The only things that matter are (1) getting husband through EMT class and (2) not having a baby until husband gets through EMT class and gets a job. Everything else doesn't really matter. Well, an obvious (3) would be saving money so that we can actually have a baby or get a house. I would prefer us to get a house before baby so that baby won't keep neighbors up when he/she inevitably starts crying at night.
I never went to restaurants that often when I was a kid. Only for birthdays and special occasions. That doesn't mean I'm a snob, though. I never found out what quinoa is either, just that all the people in my office know how to make it. They're not snobs, either, but they are from more upper-class backgrounds. Their fathers never had job instability or depression or anxiety. Their mothers were educated and never had to work. Or if they did, they worked from home selling candles or Tupperware or some shit like that. Bitter? Yes. But that's just life.
There are no stupid questions with Google. It knows the answers to even the dumbest, blondest questions and won't make you feel dumb. I need an infusion of patience. There was something I wanted to write about on here but forgot about. I have to make green bean casserole and don't really want to do it because I have never done it before. I can only hope it comes out OK. I'm using cream of celery instead of cream of mushroom because of a friend's recommendation. All I wanna do is kiss my husband and get started on the food.
A million ways to get in trouble on the Internet. My husband works until close today, so that means I get more time to myself, and it's Monday, so I don't have any chores beyond maybe vacuuming if I feel like it... and I can promise you that I'm not going to feel like it. I don't like having to run things. I want to be able to look up to him. So he can be a man. So he can feel more confidence in himself. I look up to him as the spiritual leader of our little domestic church.
Everyone is doing it wrong. It's like we have to be reborn to do it right. People are taught wrong, and when they are taught right, they ignore what they are taught because it's hard and because it doesn't feel right, but feelings are a bunch of bullshit that tend to distort reality and facts. They say to trust your feelings. Yes, feelings can be guides, but they are not the be-all and end-all of righteousness. I mean... I know what's right, but I still do the wrong thing anyway. I try my best to do right, really.
It's the day before Thanksgiving, and there's not much to do at work. All the work is coming in next week, just in time to flood our inboxes before Christmas. But according to the radio and the retail stores, Christmas is already here! I'm not ready for it. I'm not one of those people who goes shopping throughout the year. I just go shopping rarely because it's so hard to shop. It takes all day and there are better things I could be doing, like cleaning. But when it comes to shopping for others, that's not bad! I gotta be good.
Thankful for two months of marriage. It has already been a whirlwind, as I have expected the rest of my life to be. The best thing about this is that I am never bored, but the worst thing about it is that I never get a chance to sit down and think except for nights when he works until close. But it all will work out in the end. I just have to be confident in that.
It's a holiday, but I still have a lot to accomplish, and I'm going to wait until tomorrow. I think I can go to the bank.
I hate how I always have to be on top, how I have to secure the best spot. How I like to wait for others' downfall. My brother's car works again, but he still isn't paying the insurance for whatever reason. If I was my dad, I'm drop him from insurance. I hate when someone has something nice, and I have to go and automatically think, "Well I have X, so it's better." I wish my brain wasn't such an automatic scumbag. We had a good time at two Thanksgivings yesterday, so that made it all worthwhile. I love family.
Agh. There are things I want to do but don't want to do because the longer I procrastinate, the more they pile up. I get so frustrated. Stop asking me to do stuff for you and let me do my own thing. But that's selfish. I have to clean up the domestic church and shouldn't feel guilty about cancelling other plans in order to do that. I have done my fair share, I think. But I am supposed to give without expecting anything in return. I just want to be a good person; that's really all there is to it.
Is it OK to cheat on one's church? Is that even possible? I think it is if you go across denominations, but if you stay in the same denomination, you're supposed to be a family, true? I think human beings will create tribes no matter where they go. Their church is their tribe, and to leave your tribe is a betrayal of sorts. To be a Christian is to go against humanity, I think. It's to be "extra-human," in a bizarre way. You are going beyond the base human instinct and touching something that is far greater than yourself.
I'm tired of thinking about things. I want to just be. I read too far into most things, and I think too lightly about others. My husband might end up having three jobs by the end of the year. That's crazy. I just have one and it pays the bills, so that's the most important thing. You can't make a living with just one decent job. Does my job compromise my beliefs? I'm not sure. Can I ever be holy in this life? What is societal sin, and what is its cost? A whole generation losing out on heaven's love and hope?
12/2: I have neglected my 100 words because I did somewhat of an Internet fast at work. I'm doing this for Advent. I hate getting so sucked into the news of the world, the latest sexual harassment scandals... it seems like every man in a position of authority has harassed a woman (or another man). Why? Because absolute power corrupts absolutely, and so many people mistakenly believe they are infinitely powerful. They are such silly creatures.
I got a lovely afghan from my godmother. Now I have to write a thank you note! And I have to do Christmas cards.
12/2: I was thinking of dance music from around 2011 or so and how he must have heard that music when he was in the club and picking up strange girls/women. He does have charm to him, but he does not have the wherewithal to handle a long-term relationship. They must have seen that in the morning after, when they woke beside him, looked at him snoring, saw the stubble on his face, his fat belly, and remembered how quick and fast he was and how he didn't care whether they climaxed or not. They must have run.
12/2: Last day of November and I epically failed at NaNoWriMo. I wasn't even trying to write and I didn't have much of an idea. I didn't have time to flesh it out, which is an excuse because NaNo is supposed to be about not having time. It's hard when you get five minutes here and there and you don't even feel like looking at a screen after staring at one all day for work. Now I have a bunch of unfinished stories, and I hate having unfinished business, so I want to go back and revise, as always.
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