Sorry this is so over the top braggy. I'm just excited.

Felt the need to crow about my new zero waste hack.  Socks, cut up and used as hairband.  I was looking for an alternative to rubber hair bands which I don't even know if they are recyclable.  I was also looking for a reusable for my unmated pairs.  This seems to be the solution to both problems.  The gods of the zero waste and my pioneer ancestors look down on me with glee.

Forthwith.

So bored today.  I woke up at 9, very very very awake.  Like I had wanted to for a very long time.

The morning was great and normal.

The afternoon was a little scary because I couldn't think.

The evening is slyly ok.  I get to sneak in a thought or two.

I was soooo  bored though.  I'm not used to filling in the hours, with stuff that requires a lesser amount of energy.  I'm a dumper, I wake up late in the afternoon, roar until 11 pm.  Rage against the machine, I guess.  I kept picking up a book then putting it down.

And everything I do takes less than 10 hours to do, although I do it brilliantly.

So I was twiddling my thumbs, also wondering why I couldn't think.  I read a lot, cleaned, messed around on the computer.  But everything was the most boring it could be.  It was so weird for me not to be able to think of something interesting to do.  I was glad for the morning time to clean, but in the afternoon, I guess I could have dipped into my hobbies, my online classes on skillshare and coursera, but I'm trying that thing where you avoid everything but your goals.   Mine are pretty basic.

Get up in the morning, Get to bed at a reasonable hour at night, Exercise, Cleaning the house, and god/spirituality/meditation, and beauty/health. Pretty general.  

Cleaned most of the house, we didn't have paper towels so we didn't get to the windows.  I just have to do it every week.  Thought of a reward for that, too.

Those are the basics, I feel like I have to master to level at life.  I have tons of hobbies, but if I don't master the basics, then I won't have a good foundation.

Also, what is this trend of workbook books?  I like it.

My leg is so asleep I cannot feel it at all.  All feeling is lost.

I want to meditate everything good into my life.  I watched a futuristic video that showed a group of people who felt that certain people deserved death, so they all came together and made a list of people that they wished would die and wished death on them and most of them died.

I don't think I'd do that.  But thought is powerful.  It could be a dangerous weapon to weild.  And I'd probably pray/meditate.  Because there might be a higher power.  And there's always someone above you, right?  So.

I watched some tv, too.

I keep trying to lay down the law for myself.  Here's an example.

So thus you verily did troth waketh in the time of morning, you shall have done a good deed upon your servant.

So thus, the realm of boredom didith come upon you in the middle of the daylight hours.

Verily shall thee, find small boring things to do, that do not require much thought if thee shall continue to waketh in the morning.

And shall thee not continue, thee shall not concern thyself with the matter forthwith.

And here is the law laid down upon myself.

In which I wish I had a job. and really just talk about my current job

I just really want a job.

I know, I know, I have a job.

I have a great job.  I have a great job that little me would be proud of big me to be having.

But ever since my dad left for Kyrgyzstan, I haven't had a job.  I've been separated from my little self, stopped growing, stopped believing in myself or anything else.  And I know what's happening because it happened in 2005, when he left for the Middle East the first time.

It was harder then, I had more expectations for myself, I was in college, going to church full time.

Now I'm just waiting and watching and hoping in fear that I won't (in the words of the late, great Shirley Temple) crack up.  Kill myself.  I still have my plan, kind of an exit strategy, you wouldn't understand unless you had mental illness, why someone would have a plan.  It's just there in the back of your head, if the hell gets too bad, you can action it out and get help for the bad stuff.  It's really just a silent scream that you hope the spirits see and when they do, they will stop harassing you.  "Look!  She's killing herself...that's how bad you made her feel!"  Something like that.

So I want a job, but I don't have any sense of authority.  Absolutely none.  I couldn't put myself under anyone if I tried.  Completely impossible.  I guess people think that if you don't believe in God, and if you've had your dad manage your spiritual life from a child and then he leaves and starts to act out Satan in your life, not through his fault, just cause we America and we don't let in ex-pats, thus everything I get from him is slant, then you can't really be under anyone's authority.

I'm so so so so so so so so so afraid I'll lose my job.  One day wake up and not be able to get out of bed because the hate is so physically strong that my weak body can't resist it.  Has that ever happened to you?  I once tried to go into my job but the hate feeling was so strong that I had to call my boss and quit because I couldn't shake that feeling.  When my dad was here, that fear was gone. I always had someone to count on to help me with that hate.  Now he's gone.  He was very good at making the hate turn into love and I think the hate turns in to love through hurt and pain.  I just don't know if I can do the same.  It's like Megan Making Megan Making Mgan Making Megan.  Kinda makes me nauseous.
I was afraid I'd lose my job before this.  But somehow things went on and I didn't die and I'm still at my job.  Now I'm even more afraid I'll lose my job.

Will I go back on disability?  I'm not super depressed I just have really really really bad luck.  The church probably hates me and you know how that goes.  Once a group of really bored determined people gets together to hate you, you pretty much are doomed.

Every time I go to my room and lie down on the bed, the hate rises up. I even got a new mattress.  No help.

I can't control my time or my feelings.  I keep doing things like this....Thinking that my typing here, or enjoyment of a show there is more important than my job tomorrow.  I don't think this consciously, I'm just in the moment and I just keep sucking the feelings, feelings which may come out of the communal pool.  I hate it.  I can't predict the future.  There are no men in my life.

No dad, not really a brother, no friends, no relatives, no males where I work.  I feel so alienated from great universal maleness.

So I want a job. A job where I can come under authority.  or a job where I don't have to come under authority?  Is there one of those things yet?  Please comment below.

Where I get out all my feelings

So it's like this.  Your dad fed you when you were a kid.  Spaghetti.  When he wasn't around you felt his presence, like a guiding light. Even when he was wrong he was right.

Now he's not there anymore.  He's on the other side of the world.

Now he's not there to metamorphize double lipid bilayers with you.   True loneliness sets it, a kind of red/black miasma that reminds you of ebola patients puke.  You are lonely for him and the other people that he touched are lonely for him and you meet in a disappointed middle, and sucking at each other create a huge vacuum.

Then you don't have a period for a month.  It's not because you're pregnant, but possibly that you could never be pregnant.  I don't know how periods work.  You're mom is a vegetable, practically, incapable of feelings, or considering how other people work.   She is selfish and mirroristic.  How can you love a mirror?  Maybe you don't shoot a mockingbird, but you don't share your life with one either.  You want to get out her real feelings, but when you do, she loses a part of herself permanently, and has gaps in concentration, in which at first you reveled as you winning the epic battle against the parental units, but now you worry because is she going senile?  I think I need my mom, but is she even my mom anymore?

So you're father has left physically for the other side of the world.  He keeps trying to break you to make himself feel better.  Other people are clamoring for more of your father that you can't provide. You are clamoring for more of your father that he can't provide.  Your mom's going senile.  Your sisters on a pleasure cruise in California and your brother never gives an inch.  Just takes one.  He and Sayward and Marlene have the same selfishness, that ever awes you because you used to give up your life for anyone at a the tip of a hat.

So to make yourself feel better for not having a dad or even really a mom or sister or brother to depend on, you write a post, trying to grow antigens, antibodies, something to make this feel better.  Because all these people who loved your father, thought he was you and keep trying to make you make them feel this way, that they felt.  I just don't have enough.

I had a huge long post dropout 7 year long depression in which things were wrenched out of my being that I didn't even know were there.  Then 5 years of light happiness, where I reverberated from slightly happy on the outside to slightly abnormal.  Then two years of sheer relief from my dad being home and me thinking that I actually could get a job.  Now I'm thrown....where? Into the pit of despair, again.

I stopped believing in the bible.  because Genesis makes no sense.  I get that there are rules and that people should have them and there is right and wrong, I'm not immoral.  I believe in Jesus because look at his miracles, he was pretty real.  I just can't support something that I don't believe.  And that's finally come to a head.  Sorry, church people who love to redeem us sinners from the world, that's just how it is.  The creation story doesn't make a lick of sense.  Yay, the terrorists win.  Actually I think they also have a pretty strange origin story, themselves.  Also, I really think that people who are in the church who leave are expected to swear a lot.  I really don't like swearing, if you want someone to swear for you, pick someone who does heavy metal or is a Satanist or something like that.  I really don't like swearing, even if it's for one of ""God's angels."  You know what I mean.

I feel a little better.  I think they were just looking for profound honesty about myself that I can't really always do.  Especially of late.  I keep floating.  I'm like a cloud.  And something about daffodils.  Jk.  Poetry nerd joke.  What I'm trying to say is that I'm not an honesty machine.  I have to hide from the world too.  I'm not super profound.  I feel like people want me to get depressed all the time, so I have something profound to share with them.  On the other hand, there's people who want me to be happy all the time.  No thank you.  I'd like to stay mostly neutral with some sides of sadness and happiness, occasionally.  I'm sorry if you haven't matured to this level yet and you don't understand it.

I'm sorry if I've offended anyone.  I get that I get to talk here and you have to listen, which may be why I prefer talking here than trying to communicate with others.  It's not much fun being run over.  If you have an insight that I don't have, feel free to write a comment.  Save your fellow readers.  I'm not the only person in the world.

Update: I got my period!  Felt so much better.  Thanks for listening. Double lipid bilayer.

Weird Dreams

So weird dream.  I dreamt that we were having a party?  Some sort of gathering.  and my sister and brother were there and there was food I think and a kitschy door at the end of the building into a unique alleyway.  Anyway, I was there and we were all competing and eating food.  and there was a patio place.  And then after the party, there was someone with all their teeth rotting out, I think it was my brother, and my sister was there too and we were talking about how you had to be careful what you ate and how you treated the rich people who owned the place.  And then I noticed one of my teeth was falling out, rotten, to the right of the left lower canine.  And I realized that it was because I smoked a cigarette at the party last night even at the same time I realized I hadn't and I was just trying to explain it away and my brother was helping me figure out what to do about it but they couldn't say anything aloud for fear of offending people.

Then I was lying down, and F kind of rose up behind me like mist and he was cuddling me and protecting me. He had his hands crossed around me over my crotch, like he was locking his arms.  Not touching or anything, just protecting and I wanted to return the affection, but he was all like no, and he returned into the mist.

Then I was with these people who were trying to induct us into their group, and I kept trying to read this poem out of this book that they had, there was a jungle or forest, but it felt like it was a couple of rooms, since the trees were square above.  I kept reading it and it was full of nonsense and I kept trying to memorize it, but everytime I read the poem it kept slipping my mind.  It was like a law book for their people.  It was a jungle, and I think it was this huge hairy man and his wife (my sister?) that were trying to convert us.  with others in the area.  They all lived by code.  But they were very free.

Then we were all trying to travel like a band of wild gypsies and I think my dad showed up.  And we were making a train. We kept trying to gather the kids to get ready to go from the cave with these minecarts to the fields.  and we traveled into the fields, but it was a bunch of businesses, we overtook, room by room.

Then it was just my dad and B and my brother and M and E.  We were traveling by car and I kept looking at the bad, bad weather outside.  And my dad was really worried.  We finally stopped at a restaurant and there were these babies playing at this game/playplace and E (he was a baby, too) had pushed this little girl into the game hole.  We were at the table, and I kept trying to talk to my dad, but he couldn't pay attention to me.

Hey you guys! Otra Blogs

So.  You know I have this blog.  Most of my blogging attempts are haphazard and messy and a little juicy, drip, drip.  I'm sure you know from following this blog.  I wanted to inform ya'll  of my other blog attempts that this year, 2019, I'm gonna try to focus and execute.  How's about it.  Ya'll ready?

If ya'll are looking for more reading materials, or are interested in anything of the topics that come up, definintely check out these blogs

Here goes.

Death Cab for Craftie.  I have had this one for a while.  It's duh a craft blog.  I like the title, cause it lends a certain ambiance, and while I don't have a clue what any other songs besides "I'll follow you into the dark," they have, I like that song and kind of what they represent and how I really hate crafting?  I think it's a personal revelation kind of thing.  I talk about how I'm a craft whore.  Then how I'm more of a craftard than a craft whore, when I'm really more of a craft binger.  I get interested and do a bunch then get bored.  If I pick up this blog this year, I might do a lot more with it, but it's unlikely, because crafts are expensive and I'm saving for a car.  So for practicality's sake.  Unless someone wants to collaborate with me, it'll probably be passed up on.

Diabetes Dragonfly.  This is a mess of a blog, and I did it when I was in my diabetes curing phase.  It never really got anywhere cause I couldn't really commit and it's hard to find real content, even though there's a lot of primary information out there, there's not that much practical hard hitting evidence or research that's readily available on the internet.  It's a huge topic and I send bravos and kudos to people who had tackled that head on, but, really, I'm out of that phase and into my Mexico phase for the next year.  It's also a huge topic and I'm not even trying a blog.  I might work with a lot of Mexicans and learn to intermediate language skills, but a blog?  On Mexico?  It's kind hard with my selfish American mindset.  I sorta planned these phases 5 years ago so.  I still support them and I will do what I do for them that I can, but I'm not starting a movement.  I'm not even slightly revolutionary.

How I Got a Job.  This blog was really just a stepping stone for me, starting in 2015, and ending in 2018 when I got my current jobs, I might bring this blog back but it's unlikely.  Most of the blogs I've started are crap, which I something I'd like to remedy in 2019.  It's interesting enough but mostly.  I like to give the impression that I've given up looking for another job, but since I have two part time jobs, and am looking for a full-time government job, so I can pay off my student loan debt sooner and have a more reliable source of income, I probably am still looking at the job market.  Arlington is a hard city to find new jobs because there are so many great candidates, and in government jobs even more so.  A lot of government jobs are not entry level, more specifically, engineers and, generally,  bachelor degree holders.  Who knows?  I may have something to say about this.  After all, this may help me rebound into my forever job.   I'm also thinking about freelancing to help supplement my income, so that might be a topic of discussion and going back to school, which is related.  

Next to Extrovert.  I actually don't have any posts on this blog so if you follow the link it will lead you to a blank site This blog might see some activity.  I've been considering a while, trying to branch out and make friends.   I've always been a quiet person with few close personal friends, a best friend for every school attended.  4 best friends in high school and junior high.  Very diverse, black, middle eastern, white and Mexican. In college I really came out and had a group of friends and my first boyfriend.  Then I just had family friends.  And fading facebook friends that I sadly messaged after years of not seeing them.  And this past year, most of my messaging has stopped because I have been busy working.  I don't have any best friends, but I have work collegues, that I value their friendship. I don't know how they feel about me, however, I believe we have similar goals that we are working towards and that makes a lot of difference.  The other ten percent is politeness.  The difficulties to surmount with this blog is that I don't have a lot of time.  The majority of my time is spent working.  and thinking about working and resting from working or doing mundane daily tasks.  I guess this could be surmounted by growing my work relationships, and I do see myself doing this.  I sleep an average of 13 hours a night, which I'm working on cutting down.  I don't have a huge a lot of money to spend on transportation or a car, which I'm also working on.  But a little money would go a long way. Also my attitude towards others is horrible.  I don't know how to fix this.  I just mainly hate people when I'm doing stuff for myself.  I am comparing myself to myself, two years ago, when I was very, maybe extremely (maybe way too extremely), unselfish.  So I need to break down that wall, I've created for myself.  Either to be ok with my selfishness, or be less selfish.  Places to go to socialize are also lacking.  Most meetups from meetup.com are in Dallas, or Fort Worth or not interesting to me or I work at the time they are working.  I can go to church, but I've been increasingly agnostic over the years despite my continuing bible reading and morning church devotional.  I guess I could go to different churches, but I have a feeling I would also find trouble in them.  so where do you go to meet people?  Bars?  College?  Now that I'm thirty and bored of life and boring as life, what is even the point?  But my brothers and sisters!  I have a dream.  There's still friend meeting sites and library events.  All is not lost.  I'm not going to just mark time, but I want companionship to connect to others.  What is life void of friends?  Obviously this is hot topic for me with lots to write about.  Look forward to it!

Year of Celebration  So this idea I came up with making a calendar in Business Systems class in High school.  I was making a calendar and I found that there were a lot of different holidays out there, more than one for each day of the year and I thought it would be cool if I celebrated every day of the year.  Right now, it seems too bold to try and since Jesus is all about humility and flat bread, I don't think I'd dare.  But if you want to steal an idea and celebrate everyday of the year, feel free.  I just don't have the liberty, the time or the money.

I have another blog that's on my other email account, TrainTrend.  I think it's about the hot topics I come across and would love to learn and teach others about while I'm freelance job searching.  I always come across the most trending topics when I search for online writing jobs.  It's empty, waiting to be filled right now

Other blog topics that I feel interested in:  How to decrease death by accidents(I promised myself I wouldn't cure another disease), Russia(They are the most depressed nation that there is information about...some countries in Africa don't have any census information), Psychology(I have a lot of personal and family experience about this.)  If someone is interested in collaborating about a blog, I love writing about topics I'm exploring.  That's when the interest is keen and the writing is sweet.  I need to start writing about stuff I know though.  It's pretty important to share what you've learned in this life with others, so they don't start making the same mistakes we did.  Our mistakes are God, and there isn't really any comparison.

Writing Blues

Today, I just don't want to write.  Is that a thing?   You just wake up one day and all your spirit for writing is dead?  I think it is.  I'm gonna go do self-care and work on my spirit.  You know?  I think these things help when there's little to no work on writing boards and a search of such is quite discouraging.

Good to know that other people struggle, too, and then when you write about how bad you feel, you are writing again, I guess.  At least on some platform.  When fear assails you, you must withdraw from the cares which will not withdraw from you.  That's a hacked quote from someone so don't attribute it to me.  I think it involved the world.

What is there, but work to do!?

I'd really appreciate your comments or encouragement.

Spurt or Practice Writers and Dead Poetry

Really?  I just wrote yesterday, says my spurt brain.  But practice wins.

I was writing on one of my blogs about whether you're a spurt writer or a practice writer. I've got aspects of both, and desire to be a practice writer coming from a spurt background.  I used to write in journals, mostly starting from age 8.  Mostly boring stuff, like how I was doing laundry and my dad and sister coming home from vacation.

I started writing poems with slightly sexual overtones in high school, after making up a poem on the spot about the weather after listening to my sister talk about making up poems for her literary magazine.

"Rain beating down on my heart,
Washing away all of my years,
What did I do to deserve sunny days,
When I could have all of these tears."

I was pretty competitive when it came to English, starting my whole reading career wanting to read stories like my sister.

High school, my poetry career blossomed under the brightly lit lamp of a strong AP English department and literary magazine.

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Then...I fell of a metaphorical cliff in college. Two years followed by 10 years of being wrung out like a rag.  During those 10 years I managed to take several classes at a different college.  Literary Criticisms, History of American Literature, Creative Writing, Topics in Rhetoric, and finally, Advanced Poetry Writing were the few.  Surprisingly, productive, but in reality, not so productive for my poetry, because after that one poetry class, four years ago, I stopped writing poetry. 

Not a single line.  My fight with words hit a crescendo and then shrunk to a point.

I kept journaling, because for me it was therapy, but to pull out the emotion required for me to write a poem better than the last one was impossible to achieve.  I would have to relearn all over again how to write.  Start a new poetic alphabet and I didn't and don't want to waste my time.

Poetry is dead.  No one but English teachers and professors read it and people who are going to die.  It's a harsh truth, but the future is song lyrics.  You aren't going to make money off your poetry, or have it catch on like wildfire and be famous, and in most scenarios you aren't going to even affect anyone with your poetry.  In all likelihood you'll end up like the biggest poet of all, the Bard, dead on a street corner.  Keep telling yourself that you will become an English professor. Please.

So I write.  I blog.  I try to ignore that unused instrument in the corner of my mind.  Sometimes I close my eyes and think about what it was like to strike the chord that pleased the Lord, but then I remember that I'm living a song lyric and that poetry is dead and so is that part of me.

So this is my spurt or practice writing.  I think they can be one and the same.  Practice the spurt.