Thursday, June 09, 2005

 

This is insanity..

Would you like to know what insanity is? THIS is insanity! I can't stop thinking about my f**** therapist. I think about him all the time. This SO sucks. I think about him so much that I stopped therapy because I want to stop thinking about him. I've become like Glen Close in Fatal Attraction or something except it's not like THAT. I don't think about him in THAT way... I think about him like I want him to be my father. He's only a few years older than me, but I keep fantasizing about what it would be like to have him as my dad.

Yeah... great... other women would sit around and have sexual fantasies about what it would be like to seduce their therapists... I mean my therapist is a fun, good-looking guy, but not me... oh no.. I have to be obsessing about him as a dad-person. And I can't seem to stop. I quit therapy because I couldn't stand to be thinking about him all the time... dreaming about him... this was ridiculous. He was becoming like my new God or something. Now what I'm trying to do is whenever he comes into my head, I try to think about Jesus. Think about Jesus think about Jesus think about Jesus... picture Jesus... NOT my therapist.

And, what's horrible, is that I KNOW it's not even him. What do I know about him. He's probably even gay for all I know. Not that I have anything against him being gay it's just that I give him all this credit for not being a "pig" because having been abused by my father and by several other men I sort of have a thing about all men either being sexual pigs or gay and credit my therapist for being the only heterosexual man I've ever had a relationship with that I didn't sleep with but since I've known him for like 20 years and in all that time he's never been married (divorced) and only been in one relationship, I wonder if he's gay and just hasn't mentioned it to me (because why would he, even though he knows I've had a number of gay men friends). I thought about asking him because I have a feeling he'd tell me the truth, but then I realized I didn't really want to know the truth because I didn't want "my father" to be gay. *sigh* Oh, this so sucks.

Anyway, as I was saying, I KNOW it isn't really him I'm fantasizing about... it's the character in my book... I've written this 60k word book about this girl and her dad. (I'm a writer. I've had three books published but they were all erotica until now. Now, I'm going to try to get this book published -- with my REAL name, yay!) Anyway, I'm fantasizing about this character in my book which is based on him, but it's him extrapolated, if you get what I mean. I just let my imagination take flight. This character is what my finest imagination decided he would be like if he were a dad to a daughter and what SHE would be like if he HAD a daughter. Now, I realize that no human being could be as wonderful as THIS dad... but, still, there is a little person in me that has now gotten this image fully entrenched in me so that I think about him constantly... no, let me rephrase that... chronically, because it's more like an illness.

So, what do I do now... see another therapist to get over my therapist? Or do I go back to him to resolve it? I mean I have a long term relationship with him and haven't had this problem before. I have seen him on and off for almost 25 years! Previous to writing this book, I didn't really have this problem. Now what do I do?

I just don't know.
 
Well, it turns out that H**** W**** is about 60 years old and well over 200 lbs and that my husband was trying to email a large file to her which is why she was in his g-mail. So I guess I don't have to worry about THAT. He's a good husband; I never should have worried, but I get worried because sometimes I feel like I'm not a good wife. It's only this stupid sex thing. I'm working on it though. I mean it could be worse...

Anyway, today I'm just in a generally depressive kind of mood. I'm not particularly angry but I have noticed something a little disconcerting about myself. You see, I work two jobs... (2 part time jobs) There's a reason for that, but I'm not going to go into it all right now. Anyway, my morning job is with a well-known coffee company. It's a fun job basically and I enjoy it but I notice that I'm much more patient with the male customers than the female customers. Externally, I treat both equally, but inside my internal conversations are much more cutting about the female customers. I also take more offense to the rudeness of the female customers than the male customers and I wonder what that is all about. It's not that I don't get annoyed at the males, it's just that the females annoy me more. This could be because the females are just more annoying customers. They frown more, they are more demanding. They act as if we owe more for the money (SOME of them do... some of them are very very nice). Some raise their eyebrows and oversee our making their drinks and give looks as if we're just not up to snuff. It's truly annoying. But, then again, I had a man today that drummed his fingers on the coffee bar as if it were taking forever to get his drink and we just got a new espresso machine in that is extraordinarily fast --- just push a button and the shot pours into the cup. I wanted to amputate him at the knuckles.

Come on people... it's just f**** coffee!

The females will also do things like decide they must give exact change at the cash register. There can be a line of 15 people behind them and they will dig for every last penny in the bottom of their purse rather than take the change that the person at the register has all counted out in her hand. *sigh* THAT is SOOOO frustrating.

They also have weird orders... The heaviest women will come in and ask for skim mochas with extra pumps of mocha and splenda and then get a pastry too. What's the point? (And please don't call it a "skinny mocha" -- I might have to pretend to barf LOL)

Overall I really love my customers.... but some are ridiculous.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

 

It's Not About Me... Yeah, Right

I'm so sick of hearing that... I'm so sick of saying that (to myself). You just KNOW it's not true. Being a Christian, that's the lastest catch phrase we're all using. And, to our credit, we're TRYING to mean it. We WANT it to be all about Christ, but it always does come back to being about US. We can't help it, we're human, that's why Christ died for us. Dang, we're a mess.

You know some people believe that we're born all innocent little creatures. "There's no such thing as a bad child," they say. Or, "look at all those sweet and innocent little children..." Well, I tell you what, the Bible says our righteousness is like "filthy rags." Now, I used to think that was harsh and unfair. I used to be more of the mind that we were born okay and life/parents/hard times screwed us up, but you know I've changed my mind. If any of us were born even half way decent you can't prove it by me.

We obviously have the capability of developing some sort of control over the messes we are, because not all of us turn out to be messes and even some of us turn out to be a credit... a plus to this world, but I think our general bent is to be lookin' out for number one. This is truly not to criticize us as a race, just to state what I believe is a fact. Yep, we're a mess.

It IS about me... my whole life is about me to ME. I want stuff to be easy and nice for me. I want people to pay positive attention to me. I want people to notice how special I am and when they do, I think they're just noticing the truth LOL. It's so stupid. In reality, I'm probably nothing special. I write a little bit. I'm not bad at it but I suspect I'm not much better than slightly above average (this blog is not my best but it's not my worst either). I don't have any other particular talents. I'm not ugly and I've recently lost a great deal of weight so I get a lot of compliments on that, but I'm not terribly good looking either because I'm "past my prime." I certainly am not the brightest person in the world and I am definately not wealthy. If you've read any of this blog you'll know I'm not terribly sensual. I am definately a good employee, a hard working, I can credit myself for that at least, but there's really nothing special about me whatsoever... still, if somebody even gives a hint that I am in anyway special, I'll buy into it in a flash... because, of course to me, it's ALL about ME.

I wish I could honestly say, "It's not about me..." and I'm TRYING like heck to at least have a few minutes a day when maybe that's the truth... like I pray for other people... (so pin a medal on me... give me some heaven credit... see? it all goes back to me anyway... "Look, God, I thought about somebody else, see?") Maybe other people are not as self-centered as me but I suspect that if they think they aren't, it's only because they are not as honest with themselves or because they aren't looking as closely as I do. I intend to NOT let myself off the hook. If nothing else, when I meet God, I want to KNOW what to EXPECT when he raises that rod and staff.

BUT, Thank God He gave us Jesus. I'd be toasted in a bolt of lightning faster than the next sinner if I didn't have Jesus to intercede. Good grief, I'm such a loser. Sometimes I find it almost unbelievable that Jesus could absorb ALL these sins... no, worse than sins, all these deficiencies and all this taintedness and make up for it so that when I appear on judgement day, God will let me in those "pearly gates" as if I had lived in a way that made it seem it WASN'T all about me. Meanwhile, I keep trying, as best my selfish self can, to make it at least LESS about me and little MORE about Jesus but, let's be real -- it has SO been about me since the moment I was born and probably before.

Friday, June 03, 2005

 

So What Is This???

So, my husband is out of town and I'm poking around in the computer a little bit, you know? And I remember he has told me that I should check out Google mail... gmail I guess it's called. So I go over there and I log into what I think will be his account, just to check it out, you know... and I find mail residue of where he has invited me to join google mail and our son and some unknown woman. Now my husband is a very outgoing guy... he is friends with LOTS of men and women, so it's not really a big deal if he has invited a woman there except it's just me, him and this H**** W*** person and another female there. Nobody else. Hmmm. I go back to his Hotmail account and check out his enormous list of contacts and she's NOT listed there. Then I go over to his account with our ISP and she not listed in that equally enormous list of contacts... the plot thickens. So I Google this HW person and find that she's signed a guestbook at some earlier time that is now gone but I look at the cache and find that the unknown woman's email is another email for this same woman so, essentially, he invited her to join Gmail twice. The only saving grace is that she appears to live out of state, so possibly this is some sort of Net infatuation. But, who knows... and do I really care a whole lot? I'm not sure. I mean, he let ME have all sorts of net flirtations (and more... I don't mean more, physically, but he let me have plenty of cyber-sex years ago when it was a novelty to me and I thought it was fun, so isn't turn about fair play... the difference is ((I argue to myself)) I didn't keep it secret from him ((but, on the other hand, I DID keep SOME things secret from him))). Anyway, I'm not quite sure what to think.

I guess I'm more nosey and curious than concerned. We will have to see what comes of this. I'll have to wander into his gmail covertly and see what happens, but this means he must have some other account someplace that I don't know about where he corresponds with her and, of course, THAT drives me crazy. I am a completely nosey person! *sigh*

WHO is H****** W******** And I couldn't find her in the White Pages either so maybe she's married too and is listed under her husband's name because there were lots of men with the same last name. Or maybe she works for the same company he does, he supports mucho women offsite at all hours off the day and night all over the country. Geez.

Well, I know this sounds weird, but it has me really curious, not terribly upset.

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