Roommate is away for a while and yesterday I had almost-anxiety about it: no human in the vicinity to ground me and make me filter and adjust my behavior, just me and the crazy.
I calmed down and only had a few a few Precarious Financial Situation worry incidents that left me panting slightly and staring kind of wild eyed for Something To Distract Me. This morning I did make the call I haven't been making to someone who might be able to help with Precarious Financial Situation, and although I haven't heard back at least I made the call. Yeah, I get that you don't get why I don't just Do It(, What's The Worst That Can Happen). I am happy that shit works for you. For me every answered or made phone call, opened letter and read email is a victory over I-don't-even-want-to-think-about-it anxiety.
I did get a callback just now with a sorry not available, would tomorrow night work? So, there.
Yesterday, I embarked on a major re-organization effort and cleared the bedroom closet of clothes I can't currently wear (I can change my eating and exercise habits, goddammit, I've done it before), and of extra bedclothes. I put it all in those vacuum bags. It turns out they are not major space savors after all. They're so awkwardly sized once you've removed the air there is just no place to store them. Ridiculous. It's better if you just accept that they are gigantic zip lock bags. As it turns out, zip lock bags are awesome for storing clothes in a damp, spider ridden garage.
My Roomba doesn't want to vacuum anymore. It runs for ten minutes then jingles sadly. When pressed it urges "Please remove and clean Roomba's brushes." Which, of course, I have, repeatedly, even though there is nothing to clean. I took it apart this morning and cleaned all the circuit boards and nooks and crannies with air spray and cloth, but it still wants me to clean the brushes. I have one last idea (take it apart again and clean the brush sockets, I forgot those), if that doesn't work we'll have to have words about performing to expectations.
I am reading Wheel of Time again. I started at book six this time. It's far enough into the story that I've forgotten most of the details and book six it also about the time I started skimming/skipping certain people, so there is new stuff. Besides the endless regurgitation of men are from Mars women are from Venus (But Just As Good, If Not Better!!), it's fun, engaging reading. I like the magic and I like the dream walking, and all the technical, if somewhat inconsistent, details. The unreadable faces, impressions of unflappable calm, obsession with sex and self loathing, well, wouldn't a mind reading ter'angreal be just the thing to give Rand for Christmas? By the way, I didn't notice before, but there are cars in Rand's dreams of the Age of Legends.
I need to vacuum the floors. I hate vacuuming. That's why I have a Roomba. I am working up the energy to break out the screwdrivers again. And to face the inevitability of dragging the vacuum around the house.
The whole thing with Frank blew over, just like it always does. And there was sex. I guess, I'm ambivalent about the whole thing (I realized this morning I am ambivalent about people in general; they interfere with my alone time, while making me doubt myself). It's not enjoyable to have sex with Frank if afterward I am going to have that I-am-just-a-booty-call inner diatribe. It's not enjoyable to hang out with him either if I keep ruminating about means to ends and being boring (because his part of the conversation consist of noncommittal grunts and distracted fiddling with phone).
As a last thought: my boss likes me, gave me a raise and wants to me lord over a group of people with skills like mine. Given my low productivity recently and my inability to finish anything (which resulted in some sick days and a long hysterical email), I am afraid I'll just implode like I have in the past. Because PRESSURE and RESPONSIBILITY. I keep telling myself that I can change, I can improve, I don't have to be like this. I think this mantra is the only thing keeping me sane sometimes.