Whew! First off, I thought I’d log on and realize that it’s been almost a year since I’ve written anything. Luckily that’s not the case. While I haven’t written since October, it seems it just feels like almost a year.
So much has changed since October – good and bad.
I was told that I will be promoted. That’s definitely good! Especially since I got the news less than a year after I joined this organization. I’ll only be transitioning in the next couple of weeks though. There are a lot of changes in my org and the Senior VP who happens to love for some weird reason didn’t really have a position to put me into. She just knew she was reorganizing and wanted me on her team before I jump ship. That was mighty nice of her!
Although, as anxious as a person as I am, I think even someone less anxious than I would be anxious in this spot. For months I have recruited recommendations from colleagues to fill my shoes, per the request of our executives. The position needs a very specific type of person, which I guess is flattering? Anyway, I’ve sat on interview panel after interview panel for them. Now, tomorrow, I’ll find out who the brand new VP of the department will choose. That’s all fine and dandy. Except that I know not a thing about the title of my new position, or my salary! All I know is the project I’m going to work on and in whose shop I’ll be in. I just keep telling myself that I trust this lady and I’ve let my needs be known. But as soon as this new person starts, I’ll have to relinquish my seat, as the cubicle is specifically configured and located to meet the needs of the current role that I fill. Soooo that’ll be fun. Anxiety…wheeeeeeeee!
Let’s see….what else?
Ah yes. My sister shit all over my 30th birthday, about an hour after my mom shit all over my 30th birthday. That was quite fun. In the end, my inlaws were in town and gave me the best celebration I could ask for. I am so lucky to have them in my life. Even though I was ready to absolutely kill my brother-in-law, who did something behind my back that was so unbelievably insensitive that even his brother (my husband) was too pissed to not be his usual calm self.
I ended my relationship with my eldest sister away years ago. I could not bear the drama and pain that she insisted on adding to every conversation. I’ve decided that if my mom cannot address her mental illness, it is certainly not my job to do so either. So I’m done with her. And my other sister (and former best friend) has apparently decided she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. She tried to rip my heart out so fuck her. I just feel bad for my niece, who will grow up just as resentful as I did, because her mom kept her away from the family members that love her the most. My heart aches for her, but she’ll figure out what she wants to do with that when she grows up. Still I hate not being a part of her life, but as I do not deserve the abuse inflicted by my sister, and I have no regrets as to how I reacted to her attacks, I’m moving on with my life.
Next weekend, I start my fellowship. I’m excited and hesitant at the same time. I feel like they’ll make me face my dreams, and I find a lot of fear is bubbling up.
There is so much more going on. I thought all of it would bring happiness, but the last few days that I’ve had to myself, I’ve done nothing but sleep. I’ve never been like this. I mean, I am literally content to sleep all day. I tell my husband I got up at 9, but really, the first day I stayed in bed until 4pm. Four effing pm!!! Who does that? And today it was about 11. Then I got up, did a couple of small things, and under the guise of needing to finish this book for the fellowship, I laid in bed and started reading again, knowing full well that it make me sleepy.
Now I’m sitting here staring at a messy house. I need to go to the grocery store and figure something out for dinner before hubby gets home in a couple of hours. But I can’t for some reason. Well first of all because I’m doing this!
But I didn’t even mean to do this. I meant to do a post on the egg cups I made yesterday. But then I started dumping.
I can’t tell if this is depression. But I don’t like it one bit.
Laila Alive 