identify 100 things that i dislike

i am so afraid of this possibility.
there are days when i feel so sore at work and after working out… my shoulder and arms are in need of some massage or physio… but i worry on days when the pain is so intense even after tylenol that i’m in tears.

my mother has terrible arthritis and i know that in my career it would be murder.

so my fingers and crossed and i’m sure that i’ll cross that bridge if i come to hit with bravery and grace, but i think it would be devastating initially.

i love my body and i will do what i can to treat it well.

I’m done.

I need to put number one first.

I’ve been putting myself out for the theoretical advantage of others.

I need to stop doing that, and focus on what i need to do for my own career.

Its time to make an effort to build a life that makes ME happy above any perceived responsibilities or expectations.

I want to live my best life, without regrets or weird stress.

and getting towed.

I am not a fan of this…. had to go all the way out of range to pick my damn car up from impound, and paid more than i will end up paying for the entire rental! G’dammit.

I think i might take it up and visit my sister today if she isn’t too swamped with stuff.

since i have the car and my errands are done, i might as well enjoy the damn thing.

I am a jolly person by nature, i joke, i smile, i giggle and kid.

I am contemplative, but sincere about it.

there are times however that like anyone else, i can get down.

It was something that became an epic battle in rainy vancouver because of the unrelenting greyness of the place, the spittering of rain that seemed to sound like bored little fingers tapping feverishly on my mind.

I came away from that place, hoping that that feeling would wash off with enough sun and family to keep me busy, and well… it has but there are pitfalls to being me.

I have been working too hard.

I have been sleeping lightly.

I have been hot and sweaty, and scraped and scratched raw.

I have been the shoulder that gets leaned on,

I have been the friend who is too busy.

This is a part of my life here.
This is a part of what makes life good.. these down times, to remind us all how great being great is.

I was told today that ‘it is more apparent when you are down because you are generally the most optimistic person in the shop’. This is true, and has been, but its also a bit of a raincoat.
I plaster my smile to ward off bad omens, and i pitch my tent on dry and happy ground to protect the little soft me that very few people see clearly.

I am in the down swing right now, and it is best to remember that it is a swing. that it will come back up, that life is swim along side me and there will be other great fish in the sea, lovers, opportunities, great days at the beach, friends, keeping me company.

Its okay to be glum, no need to pretend otherwise, but its dangerous to let glum rule the day. I will not fill my shoes with concrete, i will make foam floats for them so i can walk on water like the frivolous inventors of the nineteen twenties always seem to be doing in history books.

I will love today even though it beat me up a little, i will love tomorow or the next day or whenever a great little birdsnest of joy is found.

begone glum, i’ll sleep better knowing we parted on good terms.

this happens to me ALL the time.
Why, i am not sure.

but it sucks.

i keep buying the cheapest of the nice phones, because replacing them is ridiculous if they are expensive, but man this means another 60.00 and another afternoon of trying to figure out cell phone numbers for everyone whom i didn’t get written down.

lamepants

i just wish i could tether it to my body somehow.

Why is this an institution!?

i feel like a foreigner within my home country because i am not a subscriber to the tim hortons mantra.

Its gross, weak and acrid.

I make my own french press at work, with GOOD coffee and have aquired an italian stovetop espresso pot.

I always go into timmy ho’s thinking i’m going to be satisfied, but the food tastes plasticky, and the donuts are like sugar coated grease pillows.

I think what i need to stop going in there all together.

The only hitch is that we have a tradition of monday coffee and donuts… so i’ll consider it my pennance and use that as my further excuse not to ever go in there.. its gross.

such as wallet/keys/buspass/phone/shoes/confirmation numbers/id

This happes more than i would like it too… today for instance, i thought i had lost my keys, locked my bike up and ended up waiting at home for my roommie to get in and let me in the door… it wasn’t until hours later that i realized they were in fact IN my purse in a weird pocket.

It is compounded by the fact that i often change purses, and have recently moved.

I know that there is a solution to this, but i’m not sure what it is.

First thing i plan on doing is creating a back up list in case i lose my wallet, and making duplicate keys to keep at my parents house.

actually this is going to be a goal.

:)

sometimes in life, you leave people behind. I mean this in a very practical way, especially speaking as someone who really does move around a lot.

Often times i kid myself into thinking that yes, i will see this person again, of course they are so involved in my daily life that at that moment, i can’t imagine not seeing them…. but then i move, and reality sets in.

those, ‘see you again’s and ‘for sure, we’ll keep in touch’ echo in my mind as i realize that they were hollow and that what i really meant was ‘thank you for being such a great friend to me while i was here!’.

I think once i get settled in this weekend, i want to sit down and write a few heartfelt thank you letters to the people i will miss but who i probably really won’t see again in this life. unless i’m lucky enough too… which i guess is why you keep those doors open a crack. :)

None the less, saying goodbye is hard, and i guess i deek out of it somehow. but the real truth is that it hurts to say goodbye to the life you have built somewhere and to the little relationships that make it home.

Hate moving.

Doing it right now.
Every time i do it, i think to myself:
I will not accumulate all this junk next time i move.
And then i do anyhow.

I look forward to the day that i stop living like a gypsy, when i can have some place to call home base, fill it with what i need, and leave it be while i go on all my adventures.

One day.

For now, i have yet another chance to live within my means, even to whittle down what i am taking with me for my next great move. That would be awesome.

None the less, moving brings something a little different up in me, it is the kind of change that stresses me out.

I’ll be fine once i get there, but this prep stuff is miserable.

Driving is something that i have come to really enjoy, especially when it means a visit to my favourite people.

I drove home last night, after a long weekend after an equally long week and got in at around 11pm. For about the last hour on the road I really felt myself getting drowsy.

Its probably the scarriest thing ever to be piloting a vehicle going 120 kmph even on a road alone and to catch yourself straddling a lane line.

Don’t worry, i pulled over, drank some coffee and walked around shortly after, but i really couldn’t get the idea of my bed off my mind until i was safely in it.

All’s well that ends well and i guess this is a lesson that i had yet to learn. Caffine up before a late night drive kid.

-K