tired rant

I’m feeling frustrated.
I haven’t gotten enough sleep these last few days. Not for long, and not very deeply. It’s partly my fault for not going to bed in time of course. And I even had a real meal Sunday night but went to bed around 2:30. the next morning I didn’t have breakfast and I skipped dinner last night so I could hang out with new friends. Oh and I missed breakfast again this morning.

So maybe it’s just exhaustion and not just stress that’s made me this way. But I think if I wasn’t so tired I’d still be thinking about these new problems. I tend to just freak out about unfinished projects. I don’t know why. I feel light headed and feel the need to hyperventilate. Luckily, I’m too tired to do that. So it’s like some kind of faux peace.

Work is so stagnant. I’ll waste days on a project. How is it I’m not collecting on these supposed placements? I tried to ask Howard but he just laughed and brushed me off. I couldn’t have been more direct. He just chose not to answer. Does he assume I know what he’s thinking? I’m feeling so trapped here and everyone around me is growing and moving and these walls are closing on me. How can I keep doing this for much longer? I just can’t but there doesn’t seem to be a way out.

How can I pull out that microphone now? I don’t know what I’m doing. Just looking at it puts a knot in my stomach. So I put it back in the cardboard box.

This is what happens when I’m left alone I guess. But at the same time as feeling like I’m doing nothing, I’m also doing everything in the world. Every single night this week I have some place to be, someone to see. But although I know I have something on Wednesday, I can’t remember what it is and it’s driving me crazy.

Rusty won’t call me back. Dad said they haven’t talked in weeks. And even Heather is leaving him messages on Facebook to try to get him to respond. nothing. It scares me. Not even that he might be dead, I know he’s not. And although it does worry me that he might be flunking out of college (again) because he set his stupid goals too high , but what really worries me is that he’s going to drop out of our family. He’s so bitter and angry about Mom and irate when we try to help him and fuming when he tries to do it on his own and fails. He won’t talk to anyone. And I know I was not the sweetest sister growing up. I tried to control him and help him see truth. We fought a lot as kids. But that’s also because we spent a huge portion of our growing up years spending every waking moment with each other- by force, because of the divorce.

He needs counseling and I don’t know why God sends him these problems. Why won’t God help him with his organization problems? Or getting a good supportive girlfriend? Or getting a car (because he totaled his own by almost falling asleep)? Why was he sent to Utah for his mission when all he wants to do is travel? My father is doing his best to help him and Rusty keeps kicking against him like a whiney 4 year old. He’s so angry. He won’t come home for thanksgiving. And I wonder about Christmas.

Man I am so tired today.

People in the café are asking me questions- looking to me for answers and reassurance that everything is going to be okay. There are times I feel really under qualified to be taking all this on. Other times I revel in the opportunity to be working (really working hard!) on something I love at last. I’d give anything to hold on to that feeling.

I really shouldn’t talk to my parents about the café anymore though. Every time I do they always ask the same question, “Well, are they paying you yet? You mean you’re not making ANYthing on this? Be sure to get that in writing honey.”
I just want to scream at them. You don’t think I know where I am? You don’t think I feel the pressures on my time and life that the café brings? My social life, my house, and sometimes even my physical health. I know it’s not a cake walk better than they do, so I wish they’d stop chastising me. I’m trying to make it into something really worthwhile. One of those awesome success stories. The way I got into animaid was so random that it has to be a good story doesn’t it? Right?

Da*n mornings. You know I’ve had a goal to get to work on time because I’ve been slacking. So my friend and I started this thing- we call their cell phone from the office phone as soon as we get in to prove we got there on time. and if one of us is late, the punishment is we can’t talk to each other until after noon. But thanks to this new system, I’ve been running out the door like crazy and she STILL don’t get there on time. So who cares? If they can’t put in the same effort I am, then why am I calling to wake them up in the morning to make sure (Upon their request?!)

This new breakfast system isn’t working. I have to prepare the stuff the night before and I get so tired or distracted that it doesn’t get done and I go hungry the next morning. I hate health. I hate mornings. I hate my clothes. I hate my hair and this stupid job and my long nails and my little brother and my sister in law and food and time and cold weather. And if I stayed at home to ball up under my covers I’d hate myself for being a slacker. I guess I’m not a fan of me either.

I’M SO TIRED.

But one thing- even though I don’t know the first thing about baseball- I’m really happy the giants won...