Catching Up With Your Past

There's really no escaping it, for better or worse.

Things I thought I'd dealt with and cremated are coming back to life almost in front of my eyes. This sludge bubbling up from the depths is making icky puddles in what I thought was a healthy patch of grass.

It's stuff I don't know what to do with. I've run out of mental cartons. Like the stuff that keeps piling up on my kitchen counter. I have no real place to put it.

I need to purge this crap from my head, but I'm not ready for a lobotomy. And there's no Goodwill drop-off for this kind of crap. What a sad thrift store that would be. Thousands of urine-stained mattresses.

The Universe has a way of forcing us to confront our issues. Change it or accept it and move on, but you won't be able to escape it. Not for long.

One thing, or person, I'm glad to have not escaped entirely just got in touch with me through ye olde past-facer, Facebook. He was a friend from my former life and when I left that life, I cut all ties to it. My own witness relocation program.

He happened to speak with the ex (after 12 years of cutting him out of his life) and afterward, felt compelled to track me down to tell me I'd done the right thing. That was great. It's been 13 years since we last spoke and after exchanging emails, it was like no time had passed. He's still a solid, good person and it's a pleasure to be reconnected.

As for the other crap, I expect The Universe will help me build the appropriate cartons to cram all that negative shit into and light it all on fire. But I need to do it quick because I'm running out of space.

Ass End of April

Sure am happy May is here - April sucked.

A couple of weeks ago David was suddenly "reassigned" at his job without any warning or rationale, after five years of stellar performance and constant, consistent high praise.

The reason they first gave was that a few deliverables weren't on target. Deliverables he had no clear requirements for, nor any feedback to guide the direction, despite repeated requests for requirements and reviews.

The second reason had something to do with supervisory style, yet, he was not a supervisor. What's next - he was coming in too early and staying a little too late? What's the actual story kids?

I think what a friend said might be true, that it's becoming more common to work in companies run by people who have no clue how to run a successful business.

And without any time to process all this crap, his grandfather passed - not unexpectedly, though still sad - and he had to jump on a plane back east.

Today I went to move his car into the driveway and it didn't turn over. He left his parking lamps on for, I'm guessing, three days. I jumped it and drove it around for 45 minutes, but I'm not sure it'll be enough. He might light it on fire if it's still dead when he gets home.

And now I think Neo is depressed, missing his dad - I'm hoping that's all it is. He wasn't interested in his dinner, but to be fair, I didn't give them wet food tonight, which to Neo is what makes the sun come up every day. He seemed to perk up when I put his dad on speaker phone later on.

As my dad said, you never know when something might jump up & bite you.

Rhymes with Fart

Our sucky subway system messed up my whole day.

I headed into the office a bit later than the crush hour this morning, happy I'd been able to take care of a few things at home before going to work.

All seemed normal as I parked my car & headed towards the station. As I went through the gates, everything still seemed fine. I heard a train approaching & ran up the escalator hoping to catch it before the doors closed, which I did. Looked like my timing had been perfect - I'm so clever.

Once on the train, everyone was chattering - something was amiss. A woman next to me had heard about a fire on the tracks in the Embarcadero station and because of that, no trains were going into San Francisco. The SF train we were on was going only as far as MacArthur. Great.

Another woman was concerned about how she would get to SF, so she asked the train operator, who replied, "I have no idea." What a tool. The woman next to me who was doing a great job of communicating what she knew got up and asked the train operator to please announce what was happening & what they were planning to do about the situation. The delay in SF meant no trains were headed there for 30 minutes or so, which meant system-wide delays. It could mean an hour or more waiting for a SF train.

I jumped off the train at the next stop & headed back on another train, hoping I could drive to work & avoid the mess altogether. I called my boss to give her an update and from where she sits in the building, she could see that traffic was a snarled mess on the bridge, so I went back home.

By noontime, the trains were running on schedule again, so I headed back to the station. I drove up & down around the garage and surrounding parking areas for 20 minutes looking for somewhere to park. Nothing. I ended up borrowing one of the dedicated police spaces, frustrated at the prospect of driving all the way to SF only to circle every block looking for parking there.

I wrote a note to the Molicepan, asking him to please not ticket my car, that all I wanted to do was to finally get into work and that I wouldn't park in his spot again. I hoped for the best.

Once on the platform waiting for a train, I realized I'd worn the wrong coat. Instead of checking train status online, I should have been checking the weather. I was freezing. The radio folks mentioned chance of showers, but nothing about teeth-chattering wind chill. I was wearing a light button up shirt under a feather weight rain coat. Dammit. I was standing on the platform swearing out loud.

I finally got to work and thankfully, the afternoon was trouble free. By the time I left, it was raining - still cold - but at least I was headed home where hopefully my car was still parked in the garage.

I managed to get a seat on the train, which almost never happens, but that didn't mean everything was going to go my way. Lo and behold, after running through the chilly rain from the station to the garage, there was my car - and no ticket on it.

It wouldn't have been such a hassle this morning if the stupid transit system had a communication method that informed you of problems before you get into the station or before you're already on a train.

The fire hadn't just happened - they knew about it as people were filing into the station. The station agent was talking to people as they came up to the booth & asked her what was going on. But there was no public announcement.

Yet, they've gone to the trouble of installing flat panel TV screens outside the station that show pretty photos of buses and when the next one will come.

Those TV screens are positioned where you can see all the buses, and every bus has its own stop with a published schedule on it. But nothing about what's going on with the trains that are upstairs & out of sight. Nice work people. Nice work.

Got The Yuck

Woke up yesterday with a headache that soon became a massive headwrecker with a side of nausea. Cameron thought I was getting The Ick - the bug he had a week ago - but it was only The Yuck.

I went to a friend's house night before last, thinking we'd be going out for dinner. Turned out the plan was to help her make dinner. It was fun and tasty, but now I think those meatballs weren't cooked as thoroughly as they should have been. I remember one of them looked a tad pink in the center and at the time I thought, I wonder if that should be pink?

Best part though, after dinner we played Guitar Hero and it was amazingly fun. I don't know how they make it *feel* good to hit the right notes, but they've done it. I'm hooked. Can't wait to start rockin out at home.

I'm a Migraineur!

After a shitty, headache-filled week, I've now learned that I'm a "migraineur." A connoisseur of head-splitting pain... how lovely!

Who wants to trade with me?