In a fit of rage and stupidity I broke the wiper control arm off the steering column of my car this morning, while pounding on the steering wheel and screaming. Anger issues? Nah.
Stress, mostly. Too much unknown for too long. Work, love, location, life. The boy is amazing and antagonizing in turns, and the Jekyll-and-Hyde routine isn't helping much with my precarious balance on my perch of sanity and stability. I'm trying my best at patience (never, ever my strongest virtue), because I know that what I'm feeling about this see-saw universe roadtrip is what he feels, times 100... but I'm not a saint, and never will be. Sometimes the horns poke through the tin-foil halo.
Work: I work a lot and make very little. I've never worked so many hours and had such a hard time paying the bills. This freelance business with the part-time retail job chaser is so much more challenging than I ever could have imagined.
Full-time opportunities still popping up here and there, mostly just bringing glimmers of false hope. One still outstanding... but it would bring massive change, a move away from what's become comfortable and back to the city that brought me to adulthood. I don't even think about the possibilities. That bridge will have to be crossed after many maybes have passed.
More than anything, balancing all of it. Trying to figure out the priorities with so, so many hands tugging at me. A relationship that I deeply want to make work, and needs a lot of time and attention to it, him, and to myself to sustain and grow. Too many jobs to pay too many bills. Family members that barely remember I exist. Friends much the same. Cats and laundry and car vacuuming and dishes, oh my!
He was understandably surprised by my sudden outburst, brought on merely by an SUV trying to kill me in traffic, a rather frequent and normally unremarkable occurrence. I wasn't.
Stress, mostly. Too much unknown for too long. Work, love, location, life. The boy is amazing and antagonizing in turns, and the Jekyll-and-Hyde routine isn't helping much with my precarious balance on my perch of sanity and stability. I'm trying my best at patience (never, ever my strongest virtue), because I know that what I'm feeling about this see-saw universe roadtrip is what he feels, times 100... but I'm not a saint, and never will be. Sometimes the horns poke through the tin-foil halo.
Work: I work a lot and make very little. I've never worked so many hours and had such a hard time paying the bills. This freelance business with the part-time retail job chaser is so much more challenging than I ever could have imagined.
Full-time opportunities still popping up here and there, mostly just bringing glimmers of false hope. One still outstanding... but it would bring massive change, a move away from what's become comfortable and back to the city that brought me to adulthood. I don't even think about the possibilities. That bridge will have to be crossed after many maybes have passed.
More than anything, balancing all of it. Trying to figure out the priorities with so, so many hands tugging at me. A relationship that I deeply want to make work, and needs a lot of time and attention to it, him, and to myself to sustain and grow. Too many jobs to pay too many bills. Family members that barely remember I exist. Friends much the same. Cats and laundry and car vacuuming and dishes, oh my!
He was understandably surprised by my sudden outburst, brought on merely by an SUV trying to kill me in traffic, a rather frequent and normally unremarkable occurrence. I wasn't.