Interesting day

I did get a lot of stupid little stuff done today. T came back and re-fixed Ruby's stereo. I picked up the dry cleaning, had Ruby washed, did some cleaning. Got the halogen lamps in the living room replaced. I did some laundry.

Was expecting to spend the day working on Fabulair today. That didn't happen. Hung out with Denny a while today.

Barney spent his day doing his usual; getting into whatever path I thought of taking and then dashing out of the way. At one point tonight, he started screaming with anxiety as I tried to get past him into the kitchen. Uh, hello? If you didn't STAND right where I was heading?

Tomorrow is the only Sunday that I have without speaking obligation until late April. No one else from the board can be counted to be there; this is turning into an obligation for the price of a half tank of gas a week. So far, each Sunday that I arrive, I have to clean up after the Friday morning class, which each week but one has left the coffee pots with stale coffee, grounds in the coffee makers, trash left in the baskets, chairs put wherever they happened to drag them, whatever else put wherever they put them.

Thus, I have to abate the dreadful scent in the air, clean the bathrooms, make fresh coffee, clean the kitchen area, put the chairs back, put whatever the accoutrements moved about back where they were, clean up whatever crap is on the floor, and get ready to greet people as they come in. I have almost no time to get myself centered.

How is it that people STILL act like 13 year olds, expecting someone else to clean up after them? Janitor, planner, speaker, facilitator, thinker, leader, answerer of questions. All this and more for a dollar ninety-nine a day.

When I combine that with the large part of my client base being worthless (except where it involves asking for free advice on how to solve any problem, big or small,) I keep wondering - why should I keep doing any of this? Why should I beat my brains out for the joy of wondering until the last minute whether I'll be able to keep a roof over my head or gas in the car?

It's all without an upside. At least, that's the way it seems to me tonight.

I don't know whether I should stop pushing against things that don't work and find another way, or whether I am supposed to keep working to make things that have never worked happen.

This is a stupid movie about an important topic.

I should have called the WMoP two days ago. I don't know why I can't bring myself to do it.

Psycho Judy started calling today. She's been canned from yet another job, and has landed herself one here in Houston with the new professional soccer team. I predict that's going to last about six and a half seconds before they realize that her resume is fake, and she can't do anything - and can't maintain records that will allow them to function in any reasonable way. She wanted me to put aside our differences, because she has some work for me - meaning that she's in over her head again, and she wants me to rescue her ass by doing her job for her for about $100 a week on sub-contract while she collects the real paycheck and has health insurance.

I didn't call her back. She called again and left a message about putting the past in the past, and basically said that I was the one with the problem.

I reiterate, PJ - when you cough up a FedEx generated airbill from May showing me that you did in fact send me the things you promised for six weeks and prove that you're not a liar of the highest order, I'll talk to you. Until then, don't call me, 'cause I'm not taking the calls.

Chuck (barbie bear) had a proto-date today. He looked awfully cute in his claret jacket and coordinating shirt. I guess it went well, because he was gone for about a week and a half. I was expecting him to go with me to Claudia and Johanna's CD release party at Ovations - and, when he told me he would really RATHER take a nap, but would drink a pot of coffee if I really wanted to go - I had already mentally thrown in the towel and figured that I was again without support, and had decided not to attend.

I can't even figure out how to give this pattern voice - I'm just frustrated and pissed off and feeling like nothing works for me. Which, interestingly enough, is EXACTLY what I told the red headed butt grabbing English practitioner eight years ago when I started this whole process.

Funny that I'm still right there.

I don't quite know what to do with that revelation, but it sure is interesting.

E keeps encouraging me to move to YVR. It sounds more and more appealing, about six and a half seconds after I finish my prac training.