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Damn, is it really October already?

Where does the time go?

Short version: I'm living in Maine, love it. Working with Michael at the same company, like it okay. At least I'm only expected to be here part-time and the work I'm doing I'm well paid for, so I can't complain. I have this feeling that Michael would be really happy were I to work full-time again, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I don't think it's because I'm innately lazy or anything, I think it's just that I have so many great ideas of how I could better be using my time, only I'm not yet, not really. I keep hoping it'll come with time.

We'll see.

September. I've been neglecting my Blogger, because I keep telling myself that I'm going to get a domain, but to get a domain you have to give them a name and an address, and I don't want to do that, I want to have a post office box and blah de blah de blah...well, you get the point. I'll never get around to it at this point.

There's so many things I want to do, yet so many things to distract me when I could be doing them. I'm just not organized enough, and then I run out of time. What I really need to do (the rational side of my mind says to me) is find something to work on, and complete it. Just work until it's done. That's better than starting a hundred different things and never completing anything.

Well, this winter is, so far, unbooked. Heh. No Nero, no hiking, none of the usual distractions. Hopefully Michael and I will have lots of time to just settle in to our new home for a Maine winter. I'm actually looking forward to sitting my cozy sunroom looking out on a snowy garden, crafting or whatever comes to mind.

On the more materialistic side of things, I really want to get a new computer. We saw one at Best Buy last night that was $630, a package with the machine and the monitor and even a crappy printer (which I would probably sell or give away for xmas :). It wasn't a bad price, and it was a decent computer. Certainly not the best of the best, but better than my current one. Hmm. I hate wanting things, money is such a complication.

I turned to Terry last night and said to her, "I need to make my mark on the world, but I don't know how."

Watched Vanilla Sky last night. It wasn't as surreal as the first time, but still decent. I still can't get over how sad it makes me that he wakes up 150 years in the future and Sofia is dead, and that he never saw her again after the nightclub. It's so profoundly sad, somehow.

I wonder sometimes how much of our lives are truly real, and how much is all a fabrication?

Maybe not in the movie sense of living in a dream, but in the sense that we're living life putting importance on things that really aren't important. How is it that so very many people can be so deeply unhappy, yet never do anything about it, simply put up with it? I'm guilty of the same, it's so easy to simply get absorbed in the idea that things are the way they are, and getting in line is the best way to deal with it. Stepping out of line seems impossible, or at the very least very, very hard.

House stuff has progressed. Michael closed on it on July 3, so we now own a house. What a bizarre feeling, we've passed into that next level of adulthood.

Eek!

Still nothing on the job front, though I guess I didn't really expect a lot. People around here are notoriously bad about talking about anything. I'm still waiting, but I did light a little bit of a fire under the organization by letting them know that as of July 1 my official address is in Maine. I only hope that after we move everything this weekend that I can actually go up there, too.

I spent all weekend bopping around and living out of my suitcase out of peoples' cars, I think this week I may want to spend a few days just existing in the evening rather than going somewhere. Terry has class on Tuesday and Thursday, which is nice as I'll have the entire evening to myself. I really need to do laundry, too. Tonight Terry mentioned going to the movies, but I don't know if today I'm up to it. I was thinking about escaping to Starbucks, that huge one that opened that always has the comfy chairs free and lots of tables.

I have so much to do, but so much of it seems so inconsequential any more.

House stuff is progressing, finally. I made a decision a few nights ago that I don't give a shit about the money any more, let work dock my pay, let the sellers bleed as much cash out of us as they can, because once all is said and done I'm going to have a beautiful house in Maine, a brand-new septic system to poop in, and a job where I can work in my jammies.

Of course, John hasn't gotten back to me yet about the whole job thing, but I'm still keeping my fingers crossed. I think the fact that he hasn't come right out and said no already is a good sign. We'll see. At this point I'm not stressing about what may or may not be, but I certainly would like to know the story so I can plan accordingly.

Cut my hand last night while washing a wall—tore it, actually, on a stupid nail. It was a teeny little thing for hanging a picture, but it still made a decent gash in my hand. I hate cutting myself, there's always that moment when it first happens that I stand there and stare at it like it's not happening...my skin was just intact and complete a few moments ago, what happened? This is all before the pain and the blood, that usually snaps me out of my reverie.

Just about everything is packed here, except an air mattress and some incidentals of my own, and some stuff in the kitchen and the basement that didn't pack up easily. I hate packing that awkward stuff, then having to unpack boxes of really random junk. I also find myself packing everything just to get it out of my sight.

It's lonely. Michael left for Maine on Sunday as he started his new job this week. He's staying with Bob and Pam until we close on the house (which at this point is July 3, thank god). I was a little worried sending him to stay with my family alone, as he doesn't know them extremely well, but I think things are going okay so far and everyone is playing nice. As long as Bob doesn't get drunk and belligerent everything should be okay. I'll have to thank them once we're settled in to our new home.

Speaking of which, woo hoo! We're buying a house in Maine! I have to remind myself of that, sometimes.

I'm so glad to be getting out of Waterbury, CT. Talk about a shithole. The city is bankrupt, first of all, and the taxes here are so bad that everyone who has money is moving out, leaving the people who don't have money and don't pay taxes. Go figure. Roads are always fucked up, half of the businesses here are boarded-up storefronts, I certainly wouldn't want to go anywhere at night. There are no coffee houses, no culture, nothing but some seedy bars, a couple of strip clubs, and a handful of "happy ending" health spas. Talk about a friggin gem of a place to live. Oh yeah, I forgot about ex-Mayor Giordano, who was arrested on charges of sexual abuse of a minor. Whee!

There is this one insane cricket who lives in my back yard. He cheeps all night long, and it sounds like he's right below my window. Get a mate, already. Stop torturning me. It's been so hot and humid here lately, completely miserable weather.

Some of the first things I'm going to do upon moving to Maine:

Get a P.O. Box (for my business address)

Get a new library card

Get a season pass to Range Pond so I can go swimming whenever I want

Get a business license

Get a domain

Get cable modem service so I can set up a web server

Get a picnic table

I have a single, wiry hair that sprouts from my chin. It really annoys me. Periodically I notice it's there and I pluck it, but it always comes back. Just above that I have a mole (call it a beauty spot if you will) that has a hair growing out of it. Not so baeutiful when it's all hag-like. I pluck that one, too, but that one hurts! I always worry that maybe I'm making it stick out more through the tugging and that it'll continue to get bigger.

I remember when I was with my ex-boyfriend he was making chainmail (don't ask) using two pairs of needle-nosed pliers. Then, I noticed he had stopped working and was sitting still, looking at me. Thinking he was admiring my beauty or waxing to himself about how lucky he was, I sighed with contentment and continued what I was doing. Then he reached out with his pliers, and plucked the hair growing out of my mole (which, until this point, I had never realized was growing there).

"You know, you could get that removed if you want," he said.

Gee, thanks.

Anyway, that one really hurts and since I pluck the nasty chin hair at the same time as my hag's wart, I fear when they get long and lustrous enough to grip with tweezers. I can feel the chin one with my fingers, though, so it's time for it to go.

I swear my mole is bigger than it used to be.

Ugh, the house saga continues. The sellers want us to pay 2/3 of the new septic, which comes out to about $5k. I have no idea where we would even get that money, not to mention that they broke the friggin thing in the first place by not getting it cleaned for eight years.

I said to Michael that I think it may be worth it to just pay the money because in the long run we'll be happy and won't have to worry about other people being jerks any more.

I still haven't heard back on my situation with my job. I feel like someone somewhere is setting me up for a fall, but I can't substantiate it. I hate this crap.

Of course, there's the added happiness that there's a new policy - all remote employees immediately take a 15% pay cut. Isn't that nice. To "cover expenses," or so they say - funny that remote employees usually cost LESS then in-office ones. What a bunch of bullshit.

So much for ever getting a raise.

I keep seeing myself in my mind's eye with a big red rubber stamp on my forehead: 15% OFF!

It's not the money so much as the indication of worth. Sure, I'm worth 15% less to the company now, should I work from home. Gee, that makes me feel grand.

And to think that the handful of cash that is my 15% reduction is less than the president spends on food for his family when he goes to his Bahamas house for the summer. It must be really tough being a fucking millionaire. Sheesh. His kid has a private VB tutor. I'm sure that guy makes more than me, and he pays it out of his pocket.

Makes me sick, it does.

Anyway, I'm trying really hard not to let this get to me, because I can't do anything to change the fact that other people are shitty. All I can do is my best, and if I have the opportunity to work from Maine, even at a reduced (SALE!) rate, I can use that time to find other options. Try to see the best in things.

My shirt wasn't dried properly and it smells like a foot. Yucky.