I find I’m dialoguing posts in my head now, no really. It’s not like talking to yourself, I do that too. I suppose I would just be talking to myself more if I didn’t blog. So I’m not complaining at all. However, I’m not sure yet if its good or bad. Or do other people do this? I find myself now thinking “I can use this somehow for my blog”…an unnerving amount now. And self editing, in my mind. Like “no scratch that, say this”. Just CRAZINESS.
I mean I’ve always “dialogued” to myself to a certain degree, I’m an introvert and PROUD of it. But nothing like now. It no doubt has a lot to do with the fact I’m sort of spinning my wheels here, in the “in-between” that my life is at present. Only a month or so more. Good and bad in that. Well, not BAD bad…just sad I suppose. If I don’t expel these bouts of “internal dialogue” in some fashion, well, more CRAZY LADY would ensue.
I hate waiting. I have no patience at all for waiting. Makes me a little looloo, actually. Makes me feel more sarcastic…which is the coping mechanism I use for “not really happy at all, kinda angry actually”. Something Mom taught me. Learned that REAL WELL, through observation of her. Very effective at getting your point across, without hammering you over the head with it. Underneath it though is that sense of “grrrrr”, like a low growl. Not so much I’m going to hurt you, but “I’m not whistlin’ dixie here, back off”. I can think of SOooo many other things I would rather do than wait. Just “get ‘er done” … or don’t … but I’m not going to wait for it. IF I am going to wait for ANYTHING, it had better be either because I HAVE TO….or I really REALLY want to.
“LIKE SAND THROUGH THE HOURGLASS, THESE ARE THE DAYS OF MY LIFE”. heehee. I haven’t watched that in YEARS, but I really can’t help but see the soap Opera my life can be at times. Not quite OPERA standard yet, geesh, I’m not THAT narcissistic. But soap bubbles, IVORY soap bubbles. LOTS of them though. Like coming out of the washer, spilling onto the floor, IVORY SOAP bubbles.
Between bouts of grief and sadness, mirth and madness, I have to look for employment, find a place to live, AND of course pack everything up here and make some concerted effort to untangle my things from Tim’s things, from the Cottages things. Oh joy oh bliss … give me strength. And I have to wait. Wish sometimes I could just snap my fingers and job, apartment, new life, DONE…Pooof. Wouldn’t that be great? F A N T A S Y LAND