Anxiety

I may have mentioned, a time or two, that I have anxiety issues.

In fact, I think a couple of my tags deal specifically with anxiety (hoarding, work, nameless faceless ones) and anxiety-related minutiae (stress, awkwardness, freaking out).

I don't know where my assorted anxieties sprang from, nor when they will strike. Sometimes, they are logical (anything related to the Crane & Sheep Festival, for instance), but most of the time they come out of nowhere and blindside me.

Today was a perfect example. Brittany's family is leaving town, and they were having a get together. It started in the afternoon and carried on into the evening.

I couldn't go.

Every time I thought about putting on a clean shirt and walking over there, I started to panic. I tried breathing exercises. I burned incense. I reminded myself over and over that I am friendly with Brittany and Chris, that Matt and Kara were over there, that I hadn't been invited for the sole purpose of people making fun of me or reading my secret diary* or poking me with hatpins. It just wasn't helping.

Finally, I rallied my strength around 8:00, and started the walk over to their house. With every step, the anxiety grew. When I finally got to their house, I kept walking. I walked into the golf course, into a thicket of trees, and stood there, almost in tears. I stood there for almost ten minutes, just listening to the trees and focusing on breathing.

I did eventually make it into the house. I sat on a chair and listened to the conversations going on around me. I initially turned down the offer of a drink, because I was afraid I would start shaking or knock it over. I think I was there half an hour before I accepted a glass of water. I didn't eat anything (which is a shame, because some of the dessert-type-things looked amazing).

No one poked me with hatpins. My diary remains unread. Maybe they made fun of me after I went home, although I seriously doubt that.

There's a note scrawled on my refrigerator - I wrote it back in 2009, after a conversation I had with my sister Hezz, long before I came here. It says, "I'm always surprised by how quickly a conversation about how I'm not comfortable in social settings can degenerate into, 'Maybe you need to see a psychiatrist.' So quickly!"

I don't know, maybe I do need to see a psychiatrist. Until then, I guess I'll just keep trying to slay the demons on my own.


*Yes, I have a secret diary. No, I'm not telling you what's in it.

Where have I been?

Quilting.

I spent the last week rushing through a project with a very tight deadline. Self-imposed project/deadline, for sure, but still...

You see, the Youth Group here in Faro is going to Ottawa over March Break to attend a conference (either TYPS or BYTE, I can't remember - too many acronyms!), and they have been doing a lot of fundraising. They had a pancake breakfast on Saturday, and a skate-a-thon that same morning. Based on the donations they had received from around town, they collectively had to skate 1,157 laps. I'm not sure if they made it, as I was only there for a fifteen minute cram pancakes down gullet break in my quilting.

At the community potluck that night, there was going to be a silent auction. A week before this, I had the brilliant idea to throw together a small lap-quilt/wall-hanging to offer as a donation. It was a fantastic idea...but it meant that I spent every waking hour working. Barely time to sleep, barely time to eat - I was a quilting machine.*

I finished the quilting portion of the project about an hour before the potluck, but I still had to attach the binding. I had to try the new-to-me technique of machine-binding both sides of the binding strip. Luckily, I did not mess it up the way I half expected I would. I finished binding it ten minutes before the potluck.

But I still had to wash it! And dry it! If I brought it in as it was, it would have looked awful, all covered with white marker and cat hair. So I wound up half an hour late to dinner, and not as many people got the chance to look at it. And I completely forgot to take any photos.

But Tina was the one who won it in the auction, and she is bringing it back to me so I can add a hanging sleeve to the back, so there will be photos in the near future. And hopefully this means a vacation from quilting until midnight every night ^_^


*Lord, I wish I had a quilting machine.

The Procrastinatrix Strikes Again

So, I've got this proposal that is due tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.

Until last week, the deadline wasn't a problem, because we weren't applying for funding. The application we put in last year was cancelled, and I figured why apply for the same thing that we will just end up cancelling again?

But last week, I figured out a different position we could apply for, through a slightly different agency, and BOOM! A proposal needed working on, STAT.

But I was away for a good portion of last week, and put off looking at the file, because I am a moron like that. That's what comes of being "smart" in high school. Not the kind of smart that studied and had good work ethics and stuff...no, I mean the kind of smart that could bullshit an English essay the day before it was due, having only skimmed the source material. The kind of smart that crammed like crazy the night before a test and always got good marks.

I mean, I should know better by now. I got my ass handed to me in university - I didn't have the foundation needed to actually study, to plan ahead and work on things in advance. Plus, I was studying Classics, Queen's very own joke-major. I think I wrote 3 essays in first year, and 2 in my final year. That's it. I'm lucky I graduated.

The thing with proposals is - you need to be good at talking things up. You need to sell the proposal without exaggerating too much. And I am not great at sales. (Ask Dianne for many examples during my time at Lindor.)

What it boils down to is this: we need someone to come and help us out. They can probably stay in my basement. Give us money.


Okay, break time is over. Back to writing.

Strung Out

Thank Zappa I am going to WH tomorrow. The cumulative effects of the past six months without a full-time boss have finally taken their toll. If I were a person who had firearms training, I would probably be a danger to all around me (joking, joking!).

Tonight's mission? Get through the Special Meeting without bursting into tears, come home and pack up the truck with emergency gear, and work on one of the two projects I have going. Also, keep out of the Hallowe'en candy.

Go, go, Team Free Will!

HEART ATTACK (not really)

So, I woke up this morning, rolled out of bed around 7:30, and walked into the living room...where I found the back door open and the skinny cat nowhere to be seen.

If you heard a thud around that time, that would have been my heart dropping out of my chest onto the floor.

I called out a few times, and then I got his food dish and rattled it. Within moments, he came running inside. I snatched him up and held him against my chest. He was cold - God only knows how long he was outside.

Even as I was thanking the stars that he hadn't wandered off too far or been eaten by a fox, I was cursing him. He never used to be so bold. Getting into the space between the walls, wandering outside...the one time he got stuck on the porch in Japan, he stayed right by the door and cried to come in. Moving to the Yukon has been bad for him.

I don't know what happened last night - I guess that, when I took my laundry in, I didn't push the door all the way shut. The lock was locked, but it wouldn't have made a different since it never latched.

Either that, or someone broke into my house - but the computer and DVD player are still here, so the chances of that are slim.

I'm so wound up, I haven't been able to make breakfast...and I had a good one planned, too.

Signs things might not be working

1. When the thought of returning to the office after lunch makes you want to barf and/or cry.

2. When the phone ringing makes you want to hide under your desk.

I'm not saying I'm going to quit, I'm just saying that, sometimes, I really want to quit.

I think my body is trying to tell me something

And that something is "Stop."

First it was stomach trouble, followed by the doom-headache, and now I'm having hot flashes. I am far too young for hot flashes. Perhaps it's just the office that is hot.

Special Council meeting tonight. I hope it will not take long. I want to go home and put a hot water bottle under my head and an icepack on top of it. Surely one of those will cure me.

Rarrrr!

Look out, world! Today I am wearing my fiercest red sandals, and I am feeling stompy.

Where do emotions come from? Why am I suddenly filled with rage? I don't know. Nothing happened in the past five minutes to make me angry. But I want to stomp on things. I want to throw mugs at walls and shout rude, cryptic insults at passers-by.

Is this what insanity feels like?

In non-crazy news, I have less than 4 days to get my home prepared for the coming of the Parental Units (figuring in time spent driving to WH [twice], at a council meeting, and at work). I am both excited and exhausted, and they aren't even here yet.

Tonight I have to take my recycling to the Bottle Depot. I may have enough money coming to buy myself more booze. That would be both a blessing and a curse. It's hard to clean when one is stumbling around like a schmo.

Note to self for Thursday

I'm writing this here so I won't forget by the time I get up tomorrow.

1 - Make signs with shuttle times
1.1 - Make signs with tour times
1.3 - Get shuttle times to J at DVG
1.4 - Make signs for Weight Room for Saturday night
1.5 - Make up GCs for ARAS Silent Auction
2 - Call ARAS to confirm table for Sheep Cabin, and to pick up 1.5
3 - Call PW to make sure table makes it out there
4 - Panic a little
5 - Calm down
6 - Find out for certain when the Fire Marshal is coming
7 - Find 50/50 tickets for draw at BBQ
8 - Have tea
9 - Roll posters in elastic
10 - Seriously, what was I thinking?
11 - Call B&Bs, find out if they want brochures
12 - If H brought tissue paper, wrap gifts
13 - If not, have a little cry under desk
14 - Write cards to go with gifts
15 - Find out about finances re: GC Breakfast
16 - Is that guy going to bring a guitar to the BBQ?
17 - I am going to be so sick on Sunday night, I can just tell
18 - Make sure everyone has my cell phone number
19 - Remember to turn cell phone on
20 - Find out if CRIC needs more maps/brochures
21 - Make sure laptop and projector have all their cords and stuff
22 - There will be enough salad
23 - Print up Sheep thing for CRIC on the nice paper
24 - Talk to K when she comes in for our meeting with CA - see if she can think of anything.

Man, I am to the point now where I just want this to be over.

Punching Monday in the throat

It's five minutes before work even starts, and already I have screwed something up. Hooray for Monday!

Seriously, things were going so well this morning - woke up, made my bed, made dinner and threw it in the crockpot, showered, put some laundry on. One phone call has made me upset, because I made a mistake because I didn't know any better.

This day better take a 180 degree turn toward awesome, is all I am saying.

Bring on the Sandra Bullock-fest

What a day.

I came back from WH yesterday, in my brand new truck, and I was doing my best to get through today. It was my boss's last day, and there was a potluck planned, and in typical high-school fashion, it was not good. And then there was an article in the news about our town that just made things worse.

Once again, I wonder why I came here. There are really good, nice people here, I just know it, but it is so hard to remember that on days like this.

I don't doubt that there are jerks at home - indeed, with a population almost the size of the entire Yukon, I'm sure Woodstock is full of them. But I didn't feel like I was constantly butting heads with people. Oh, apparently there's a rumour floating about town about moi - namely, I am actually an American, and I'm here without a work permit. Does this mean I'm being accepted?

So it's time for Sandra Bullock movies, a bottle of Wild Vines, and an early night.


On a tangent, I feel really bad for Sandra Bullock. Way worse than I normally feel when I hear celebrity gossip. Chin up, girl.

Blaming the Sky

So much of my life seems to centre around stress lately.

There is work-stress, which is the most predominant. Even when I'm not in the office, I am almost always thinking about it. I have a hard time sleeping because I start to think about what is going on in the office, and my brain whirls and whirls until I'm exhausted but unable to shut down.

There is money-stress, which I brought on myself by being hasty about moving out and by my rampant internet spending.

Then there's the unnamed stress that wells up inside my chest and cuts off my breathing. I worry about Collapsing Colony Disorder and what we will do if all the bees disappear. I worry about developing cancer. I worry that I am going to lose my sight and my teeth will fall out.

Worry, worry, worry.

This morning, as I walked to work, the valley was full of fog. The temperature dropped last night, and all the grasses at the side of the road looked as though they had been dipped in liquid nitrogen and returned to their original spots. I felt like if I were to wander on to the Golf Course, I would be swallowed up in the mist and wouldn't have to deal with all the hoo-ha waiting for me in the office.

I'm almost wishing the week would end now so I could start over again on Monday. Surely things will be easier next week.

Angry Bees

Today, on the whole, was the kind of day I like to refer to as an Angry Bees Day.

When I worked at the Gakuen, we weren't allowed to swear in front of the children - not an unreasonable request, really, but one that sometimes taxed a person's creativity when it came to expressing her true feelings. So we had to come up with words that could not be construed as being bad, but which got the meaning across to those in the know.

My favourite was funny turtles, after a story someone told me about having referred to someone in a very vulgar manner, not realizing there was a child present, and the child agreeing that, yes, so-and-so was a funny turtle. Sean and I used that expression all the time - it was our code for when the other teachers were passive-aggressively acting out against us.

Angry bees, on the other hand, means the kind of day where everything is wrong from the get-go, and every interaction you have with other people makes you want to cry with frustration. Knowing that you are being irrational doesn't help, either - it just makes you madder. I apologized several times over the course of the day to my coworkers, because I was adding to the stress level in the office but I couldn't seem to stop.

The upshot of this angry bees day is that I am staying at the office instead of going home, so that I can get the public packages printed up for the meeting tonight, and I can get some things done now that I am alone.


On the plus side, I was approved for financing, so I will definitely be picking up my truck this weekend ^_^

Tired and wrung out

This has been a very draining week.

I am swinging through moods like Tarzan after a night of heavy drinking (namely, I am falling a lot), and I am sooooo glad the next four days belong to me and me alone. If everything goes according to plan, by 10pm tonight I should be passed out on my couch after drinking a bottle of fruity wine and eating a pizza. Sweet!

I ordered a new computer today, so in the near future I should be able to be in touch with the outside world more often. Next on the list? Order my truck, maybe buy a mobile home. Perhaps a gun rack? ("A gun rack? I don't even own a gun, let alone many guns, which would necessitate an entire rack. What am I gonna do with a gun rack?")

Wahhhh.