I Woke Up Needing Validation

I woke up very unlike myself.  I woke up needing praise, needing validation, needing an atta girl and there was none to be found.  I woke up needing to be told I’m the awesomest person in the world.  And at 5:30 AM, there was no one around to do that.

Sigh.

So I got on the treadmill and climbed hills for a few minutes, thinking a little accomplishment early in the day would be a great beginning.  I climbed til my ass hurt, but it didn’t do much for me.  I even soaked in a hot bubble bath post-treadmill, and a bubble bath usually fixes everything, but…no.

On the surface, all is well.  Underneath it all, I am unsettled.  Too many things are up in the air and I prefer to be in control, so I think maybe that’s where the nervousness and neediness come into play this morning.  As I sip my requisite Diet Coke, I’m trying to make a mental list of what I am in control of and what I know I’m doing well to see if I can bring myself back to more comfortable footing…

this afternoon…

…was one of those kickass afternoons where you get so much done you wonder why you even bothered to show up the rest of the week if all you really needed was today.

It was like I was all jacked up on Red Bull and iced coffee, but without the Red Bull and iced coffee.  I got things scheduled, got issues resolved and actually (gasp!) used the telephone

For those that know my work style, I never use the phone if I can help it–my office desk phone ends up in “out” mode for days because I forget to turn it back on, and I like the out mode: straight to voicemail, no ringydingy.  I’m an email or in-person kinda chick for work things.  I either want it in writing, or I want to see you face to face.  I hate playing phone tag! But today, in my hard-working good cheer, I used the phone, and I used it more than once: shocking!

I crossed items off to do lists.  I worked off the tasks on the post-it notes all over my desk.  I made new lists.  I smiled at people.  I visited a few folks and bounced around finishing things.  It was like the tidal wave of energy to finish projects you get right before you go on vacation…only I’m not going on vacation.  Maybe tomorrow at work will be just like a vacation since I was a whirlwind this afternoon… (a girl can dream!)

My birthday!

Sure, my birthday’s not until September 5, but let’s get a plan in place!

Saturday Sept 6, let’s go play paintball that morning.  And that night, let’s go eat copious amounts of food and rock out some serious karaoke—sake, anyone?!  Ooooo and there better be chocolate cake. 

What do I want for my birthday?? Hmmm.  I think I already have what I want most, but it’s in that rent-to-own stage that I blogged about recently– a little confirmation that things are on the right track would be good in time for my birthday, that everyone’s on the same page, that’s always good for the soul.  As for what your hard earned dollars can buy me because I know so many of you are so uncertain, well, bubble bath is an every day must, truffles dusted with cayenne pepper from the Chocolate Fetish and a bottle of something red: a shiraz, syrah or merlot—you can’t go wrong with those things, and using that list as guidance, well, I’m not as hard to please as people imagine.

Let’s start celebrating me now so we don’t pull a party muscle!

Cake hogging weasels

No one shared birthday cake with me!  You’re all a bunch of cake hogging weasels.  WEASELS!

But now that all these birthdays have finally passed, we can start planning MY birthday, oh yes we can!  Cake! Karaoke! Paintball! (Don’t shoot my cake!)  September 5 is the official date, but please be advised that I will start accepting cake, presents and general adoration from this point forward and that it is completely acceptable to celebrate me every single day.

I’m Mad! ARG!

So for those of you who just joined me in the Kat Box, let me bring you up to speed on my relationship with the former Mr. Kat 2.0… He and I do not get along.  We can not engage in the most basic of conversations without it escalating into an argument.  I recognized this gasoline-lit match sort of thing ages ago, and thus I try to keep our interactions brief.  I am generally not rude, I’m just to the point: no details on my personal life, just straight to the facts which are usually revolving around the once or twice a month he wants to hang out with Minime.

I’m glad he wants to do things with Minime every now and then, as that was the only father figure she had in her life for years and years.  Her biological dad, the former Mr. Kat 1.0, has recently pulled himself together and spends time with Minime now, but for years, it was just the now former Mr. Kat 2.0…so I’m cool with them spending time together; it’s a good thing.

But Mr. 2.0 is always trying to be up in my business.  On a recent evening, he called 3 times in 3 minutes, and I missed those calls; he didn’t leave a voicemail message.  He called the next day and asked why I didn’t answer the phone the night before.  I said I didn’t know, that maybe I was in the shower or outside with the dogs or on the treadmill or any number of options where I wouldn’t have my phone in hand, but when I noticed the missed calls, I then saw he didn’t leave a message so I wasn’t too worried about it.  He then asked again if I was in the shower or what.  I said I really didn’t know but felt I’d covered that there are times when I don’t have my phone; he should leave a message if he needs a call back.  That apparently still wasn’t sufficient information because he then wanted to know what I was “really” doing when he called.  Folks, I hope you understand why I lost my temper at that point…I can’t stand to be badgered over something stupid.

Anyway, that sort of round and round and round dialogue is one of the 70 million reasons we don’t get along very well, and it’s why I try to keep our exchanges brief.  I try not to react when I can see him angling for a fight, and somehow, my lack of reaction tends to upset him even more, so he pushes even harder to get me angry.  As is my way, I tend to completely retreat to avoid a conflict, and if he comes after me with still more badgering at that point, yeah, then I s-n-a-p and get pretty scary.  I don’t like it: I don’t like being that angry, and I don’t like being lured into it, tricked into it.

This afternoon, though, I fell right into it; I feel like such a sucker for being baited into an argument…but he started in on his usual prying, and I, as is the norm, stayed guarded…and of course, by not revealing all details of my life to him (this all started over me wearing a certain tshirt), that just encouraged him to keep going, keep nagging, keep prying, keep pushing, until I freakin’ snapped and started yelling at him (Minime, by the way, was in the house and didn’t hear this exchange, thank goodness) in the driveway in front of my neighbors.  As always, he then had to act like I’m mentally defective somehow because I’m suddenly angry, “why are you so angry all the time?”  BECAUSE YOU DELIBERATELY PUSH MY BUTTONS TO GET A REACTION AND WHEN I DON’T GIVE ONE, YOU PUSH AND PUSH UNTIL I FLIP OUT! DON’T BE SURPRISED WHEN I FLIP THE HELL OUT ON YOU BECAUSE IT’S WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO! I KNOW THIS GAME!!!!!!!! ARG!!!

I ended up leaving the area for a few minutes to collect myself while he kept trying to call my cell phone over and over in that childish way.  I just wanted to regain my cool and move on, but with him, there’s no moving on until he’s done. He wasn’t done, and in fact, he probably still isn’t done, but I’ve turned off the ringer on my phone at this point.   I can’t live that way, I can’t live in anger and stress and strife and grudge-holding and gameplaying every day, so we are divorced.

Egads, I’m just as mad at myself for falling into it as I am at him for being a pain in the ass.  I’m not perfect, I recognize my fault in all that has transpired today.  I know better than to get sucked into that kind of fight and I shouldn’t have let it happen. 

what’s with all the b’days this week…

…somebody better be sharing cake with me, dammit.

Happy Birthday to Spider John, glad surgery went ok & get back to work already!

Happy Bday to Sinderella who hopefully will not lose her glass slipper after the ball.

Happy Bday to Jason, Hairstylist Extraordinaire—I’m pretty sure it’s tradition to give ME a free haircut for your birthday.

Happy Birthday to the Scootster—you get better with age.

and

Happy Birthday to my little brother, not so little anymore, but you’ll always be my baby bro.  You know I’ll make cake for you!

One of my blog posts that got eaten…

…was about wanting things I can’t have.  Your Katster wants many things.

Today in dealing with something important in the morning and something else that also has a ridiculously high priority to me later the same day, I realized that I already have many of the things I want…I just don’t own them, I guess.   I am in a rental situation or long-term lease with things I want.  I can’t call any of the things I want mine outright; they’re shared, they’re loaners…but I want them to be mineminemineminemine.  I call dibs.  Mine.  I’ll give you a dollar for it.

And then let’s revisit the popular theme of “well what would you do with it if it was yours?”  Well, no different than what I do with the whole fine mess in my rental situation, I reckon, but at least I could shout it from the rooftops.  I’m a Virgo–we like ownership and public acknowledgement. 

so i had this thing this morning of importance…

………..and i didn’t throw up, that was a biggie.

and thank gawd for some sanity-saving, ego-boosting pep talks to keep me from hiding under the table or running around in circles chasing my tail (talk me down, man, talk me down)…

……but like so many things of late, it’s one of those things that i can only put out there, lay it on the line, and wait & see, wait & see, wait & see.  i have pretty much unlimited patience, but how thin can i spread it before i freak the hell out?

camping!

Went camping yesterday.  I’m pretty easy to camp with, I think.  Don’t care where we go, don’t care what we eat, don’t care what spot we pick, don’t give a crap where I put up my tent.  All I care about is will the wine bottle fit in the cupholder on my camping chair (no, not a cup or a glass, the whole flippin’ bottle?!), and once that’s settled, let’s go!

Campfires should be mandatory therapy for the stressed out.  With nothing but the sounds of the river and the nocturnal critters in the background, gazing into the campfire is meditation.  It’s relaxing and calming…throw in some dark chocolate s’mores and it’s nearly nirvana.  The crackle and pop of a campfire in good company is something I’ve been away from for too long.

I was first to wake this morning.  Waking up out in the woods is pretty special…chipmunks running all around, the air is clean and the day is new and unspoiled.  No cell phone signal to interfere with the quiet, no tv, nowhere to be but right there in the moment.  I took a walk and enjoyed the silence, collected my thoughts in a way I haven’t done in a while.  Really good stuff…