spilling . . . .

Random thoughts spilling out of my overloaded brain -- watch out, this could get messy.

Why was it so hard to send my uncle a birthday card? He's never really done me wrong. Of course, I still hardly know him. That makes picking out a card a little tough. Went to at least three stores. Too froo froo. Too silly. Too boring.

In fact, I am still not sure exactly what day his birthday is, really. Does this make me a bad person? Probably not. And yet he still calls me his favorite niece. Then again, the competition isn't exactly tough, if you know what I mean.

It doesn't seem possible that a week ago we were heading back to our hotel after a fabulous night at the aquarium. Tired by 10pm. Bed turned down, mints on my pillow, ceiling fan silently spinning. Where did all that time go? I have been in such a funk all week.

Maybe it is turning another year older. Getting my period on my birthday didn't make me feel any better. In fact, it down right sucked. I'm trying to forgive the people who didn't remember. I still haven't thanked all the people who did. Always wanting what I can't have. Never thankful for what I do have. (Of course that is not entirely true.)

Maybe it is this whole war. Listening to varying points of view on NPR was making me ill. Mostly this was due to knowing that the "truth" (whatever that really is) will never be known to most people. We are all being lied to constantly. Being told the truth of whoever came up with the most to sponsor it -- today's truth brought to you by megabilliondollar company X. Sometimes I feel like Mulder searching and searching and yet somehow knowing that while it might be out there, it will never be mine to have. Then again, could I (or any of us) really handle the truth? Can I even deal with the truth that is my life right now?

Truth One. I have been out of work for over a year and a half. Part of misses it, and part of me really doesn't. I tell myself I needed a break, and yet feel like such a loser. Imagine bringing me home to meet the parents -- on second thought, please don't.

Truth Two. We moved back here five months ago, and yet it would be hard to guess by all the boxes that continue to linger. Of course, this has to do in part with the fact that you have to have somewhere to put the stuff and in order to do that you need money and in order to get that you need a job. Then again, New Hampshire or Chicago or heck, even Austin could be where we call home soon. See how this all goes around in circles. Vicious circles. And triangles. And squares. I hate you all!

Truths Three, Four, and So On. The laundry basket is overflowing (again). The Internet connection is fickle at best. Part of me wants to scream; another part wants to just cry. I can't bring myself to do either. Why can't I simply disappear? -- you know -- poof!

Instead, I just hide. Not the best of coping methods, but that's why it's called coping. I'm trying, but I feel like I'm coming undone. About to spill out of myself at any moment.

Of course, that's usually a good sign. A turning point, so to speak. [I warned you this could get messy.]

It's the perfect time of year,
somewhere far away from here
I feel fine enough I guess
Considering everything's a mess. . . .
Pinch me. Pinch me. Cause I'm still asleep.
Please god tell me that I'm still asleep. . . .
On an evening such as this, it's hard to tell if I exist. . . . [pinch me, barenaked ladies]