Domestic Geek

I drove all the way over there and nobobdy was there AGAIN! This is unacceptable. I'm just about ready to tell them to f*ck off.

I sent an email off to a local mental health facility to see if anybody could offer advice on how to get myself some help. I'm tired of not living my life and if it is indeed depression that has been hindering me, I want to find out and fix it. I can't really remember the last time I felt truly happy and at peace. The most annoying thing is that I can't concentrate. That is so unlike me. I used to be able to concentrate on coding for hours on end. Now, I can't remember what I intended to do like 2 seconds ago.

Here I sit again...middle of the night and I can't sleep. Stupid raccoons fighting outside woke me up about and hour and a half ago. This lack of sleep is taking a toll on my body. I'm sick. My throat hurts. I'm coughing. I had a bone-chilling fever earlier. I hate this. I was researching depression and reading some message boards earlier this evening before Marcus got home from work. I've got to find a way to get help for this. I read that prolonged untreated depression can cause permanent changes in the physiology of the brain. Great. All I know is, I can't concentrate. I don't pursue my hobbies. The whole day can go by and I'll have not accomplished jack. I could've accomplished tons in the two months I've been out of work, but I haven't. I'm tired of feeling hopeless and out of whack. Is there anyplace you can go to get help if you have no money?

I don't want to go back to that job again ever. I went back after 1:30 knowing that the other designer would be there. I really wanted to talk to my boss about finishing the project I am working on and then not coming back. He still wasn't in. *sigh* I brought the project home to work on it and of course I haven't touched it. Now I don't know if I really hate being a designer or if it's the jobs I have had or if it is the depression itself making me want to flee.

Well, I guess I'd better try to get back to sleep.

Yay, my insomnia is back full force. I tried to go to sleep a couple of hours ago, but I've got so much on my brain, I can't. I never thought that on my 40th birthday, I'd be up in the middle of the night bawling like a baby because my life is spiraling out of control and everything I do to try and make it better somehow always makes it worse. Something in my life right now has got to give. I'm tired of going in the wrong direction, making the wrong choices. I'm begging the universe to give me some clue as to what I need to be doing, what move I should make. I just want a job that pays enough money to live comfortably, that gives me some sort of satisfaction, that doesn't feel pointless.

I'm on the verge of going back to pizza. My brakes and the price of gas are the only things that have kept me from applying again so far. I don't want to deliver pizzas again. I know I won't make the kind of money I used to. It'll ruin my car. It's going in the wrong direction, but I don't know what else to do. I only qualified for about $3,000 in unemployment. That'll be gone before I know it.

I wish I had an inkling of another line of work to try or some other type of job I'd be good at. I can't go back to school yet again. I'm already going to be paying off student loan debt until I"m dead.

I wish I knew what to do.

So, today is the last day of being a thirty something. Remember that show? LOL

We had a mini birthday gathering yesterday with Mike and Nina. Dinner at Chili's and then a DQ ice cream cake here. YUM!

Mike and Nina got me one of those musical cards that Hallmark is selling now (it plays Spinal Tap) and Scott Kelby's Photoshop Channels book. Marcus purchased me an Expression Engine 1.5 license and then made an awesome little case for it.

Sorry I really haven't been in a posting mood this week. Here's a recap of the events of this week:

I was truly saddened by the death on Monday of The Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin. I really broke up listening to Kelly Rippa on Regis & Kelly on Tuesday morning.

Steve Irwin, the khaki-clad wildlife stalker who won global fame with his televised death-defying crocodile stunts and whose booming voice made “Crikey!??? in a ripe Australian accent an international catchword, was killed by a stingray yesterday while filming a documentary at the Great Barrier Reef off Australia’s northeast coast. He was 44.

Witnesses said he apparently died of cardiac arrest after the stingray attack.

Mr. Irwin was on location in the area to film television segments, including material for “The Ocean’s Deadliest.??? Witnesses on his boat, Croc One, and on a nearby diving vessel said that when he came close to a stingray, its barb pierced his chest and lodged in his heart.

We had a nice little BBQ here on Monday. Mike and Nina brought lots of food. Nina makes THE BEST potato salad in the entire world. I first had it at their wedding. Good stuff! I'll have to find the recipe she gave me and put in on my recipe blog. One day I'm actually going to make it for myself. I keep forgetting.

Happy belated birthday to my friend Mike. His birthday was on Tuesday.

I tried to pick up dog poo this weekend, but was deterred by all the wasps buzzing around. I baited my wasp traps and have caught tons of the suckers this week. I hate wasps. I also trimmed branches off the the darned crabapple tree in the yard. It was way out of control. Makes me angry that they keep increasing the lot rent, our lease says not to prune the trees, yet they have never once taken care of it. Idiots.

I realized that my wardrobe is abysmal. I haven't bought new clothes in ages. Except for a bra, I haven't gotten anything new in over a year (t-shirts from my screen printing job). Marcus got my some polos when I started the screen printing job in April 2005. The last time I bought jeans was well before that. It doesn't help that I don't own a lot of clothes, anyway. While I've lost most of the weight I've gained since losing my job, I've lost it in different places than I gained it. I can't wear my jeans. My one pair of jeans that fit has so many holes in them that it's embarrassing. All of my nicer shirts have holes or stains or don't fit. I don't even have a week's worth of "nice" clothes to wear to a job anymore. My last pair of shorts fell apart. My sweat pants have holes. Even a huge weight loss wouldn't help much because I really don't own much in smaller sizes, either. I'm screwed.

I guess the money I get from paid blogging and the ebay sale of stuff from storage will have to go towards building a wardrobe.

The placement woman sent my resume off to a place that sounds perfect for me (except that it's in the DTC). I hope I get a call.

I'm working on my Thursday Thirteen, but can't seem to come up with 13 things I like about myself. How sad is that?

Can't believe it's Thursday already. Well, I'm going to go take a shower.