So, one year later, almost exactly, since my last post. I'd almost forgotten about this blog and it took me a while to remember what I'd called it, but it's good to be writing here again . . . even though I no longer have fibroids and the title is a misnomer at this point. Whatever.
To recap, about a month after my surgery last year, I developed horrible back problems which were finally straightened out in March through the power of physical therapy. I wouldn't revisit last year for the world. I'm grateful each day to wake up without extreme neck/back pain. Each and every day.
So, having re-read my previous posts, there are many similarities to last year. I'm still not in the greatest financial position, although I am happy that my father is doing well and able to continue doing what he loves. That counts for a lot. It gives me hope that I can somewhat follow in his footsteps. I'm still able to relish in the successes of others, which are many because I tend to be the slacker among my friends. Having successful friends gives me a lot to aspire to, but it makes me feel kind of inadequate about where I am in life. I was one of the first of my friends to own an actual house, although all of them now have much nicer houses than I do. I really need to catch up. Maybe one day.
The BF and I have celebrated another anniversary. Number 5. Well . . . that's actually not true. The amount of years are true, and we did have another anniversary, but we didn't really celebrate it. At all. Which was actually okay because the fun of celebration for me was in the exchange of gifts, which we don't really do any longer. Although I completely get into the planning aspect of getting something that I know he'll love, it makes much more sense that we stopped. I feel it's a waste when he spends money on me, and I give him enough crap for non-occasions, so no point in creating some reason to spend money on things that we shouldn't. We typically go out for a nice dinner, although we can't ever seem to go out and have one dinner without it being completely consumed with work.
I'm not sure if this is what life is supposed to be like, but if the definition is all work and zero fun, we've certainly cracked the code. We talk, with conviction, of vacations that will never be planned, and homes that we'll probably never purchase. But it's fun to muse about each, as long as we're grounded in reality. As least one of us is. People still ask if we're getting married, but fortunately the questions have slowed down and by the time we're together for 7 years, my prediction is that they'll stop altogether and others will come to the conclusion that we're one of "those" couples. Whatever.
The thing about this blog that I have to remember -- especially when I re-read my entries -- is that it reflects the worst that it can be. When I'm moved to write this, I'm not coming from a place of hope; I'm reacting to being in a place of extreme pressure and needing to vent before I explode.
So, in case anyone besides me ever reads this -- which I doubt -- keep in mind that this is the outlet for my temper, frustration and sadness. Happy Queenie is too busy to tap away on the keys as a means of expression.
Now .. . back to venting. So, New Year's Eve is tomorrow (well, today, actually), and again I feel like I'm entering the year improperly. I have all kinds of shit around the house that needs fixing or installation. I hate entering a new year that way. I feel like I'll be in a constant state of disrepair throughout 2015.
I also made the dubious decision to have a few people over to celebrate. Mostly friends of the BF with one of my girlfriends and her husband thrown in for good measure. I'm not a natural entertainer. I'm always looking at my house through the lenses of others, and it never really seems good enough. I can set a nice scene and plan an event, but I'm not great at having people in my house and I don't let them lift a finger to do anything (largely because I'm a kitchen nazi), which means that I'm completely exhausted at the end of the night and am never happier until the last guest leaves and I can clean up and pass out.
The BF never helps with these events, either. Granted, he was sick for Thanksgiving, but even if he weren't, I'm pretty accustomed to having to do everything from planning to purchasing to cleaning to setup. I finally snapped today, when I spent the entire day running around and dealing with awful customer service at every turn, and then I called the BF who first ignored my call, then answered but talked for 2 seconds before we got cut off, and then didn't answer the phone again. Apparently he was on a conference call, but when he finally called back I was wrestling with two arms full of 7 bags, so there was no point in answering. It's always about work for him. Never mind that mine is the job that carries our social life, and in a pinch, any other aspect of life. But I must always cater to his, somehow. Not sure how that happens.
Work is actually the brightest spot, which is a big change from last year. New job, new boss that I like, interesting projects, potential for pretty good compensation. I'm still getting into my groove, but I'm pleased with it. So, that's a coup!
So, all in all, as I really think about it, not such bad things to report. Dad is good, work is good, trying to keep the relationship on the rails, and I feel much better than I did last year.
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