Fuck yesterday's euphoria - today SUCKS.

Could anything at work PLEASE GO RIGHT?

I'd like to get to eat lunch eventually. I'd like to get out of here at some point. I had hoped 5:30 so that Casey and I can get to Fort Worth at a decent time.

No, that can't happen. Today is a loss. The check signer leaves at 2, that would be about 1/2 an hour from now, and I cannot post an invoice, and I cannot get a check to print. WHOSE FAULT IS THIS? I WILL KICK THEM IN THE SHINS! WITH STEEL TOED BOOTS!

Corley [kor-li] - proper noun

or,

events and such that define my being 5-10

- When I was very young I had very high fever, and because of it I had a seizure. When treatment was all over I was the youngest person in my family to have had a drug addiction. I don't remember it, but apparently withdrawal from phenobarbital is a bitch.

- Looking back at how the mind develops through childhood, I particularly like the time I had to get stitches in my forehead best of all. I was in the passenger seat of my dad's truck, I was waiting in it, parked in the driveway, while my dad had gone into the house to get something. During this time the balloon I had been playing with, made its way over to the floor boards of the driver's side of the truck. My little 4 year old brain couldn't realize that I could just move to the driver's side, reach down and grab the balloon. I had only ever been on the passenger side, through the passenger door. I had only ever seen my dad on the driver's side, and he got in through the driver's door - follow my logic? I got out and went to run around the back of the truck, only, I didn't realize the tailgate was down and I hit it hard. So hard that I fell over and gashed my head open. One way to learn to just scoot over.

- About six months later my Grandmother, Annie Tannie, died. Her funeral was the on the same day me pre-K class talked about the letter C. Can you see how this was confusing, too? I had been so excited - C! My name starts with C! There is a very nice watercolor sketch of a white cat next the the C! on the wall! I like cats! I was there for A and B, and the - D? Scarred for life. Now we all know why So-so Def (my ex's cat) and I never got along. After a few months, my parents were finally able to convince me Annie Tannie wasn't ever coming back. One weekend we went to the house where she and her husband had lived to visit him, Poppy Tom ( As the first grandchild I got to be the kid calling the shots. I like titles made up of two names.), and I was so confused! There she was - sitting in the living room! She was talking to Poppy Tom, my parents, and me - and she was NEVER coming back! ? The little wheels in my head first peeled out, and then came to a grinding halt. It was way too much for me. And then she leaned over and said in the sweetest way you can possibly tell a small child that you are not the one person that they want to see most in the universe, "Corley Ann, I am not your Annie Tannie." She wasn't. She was Tannie's sister, Sara. This is where I believe I began to cry. And if I didn't then, it is where I begin to cry every time I tell the story (even right now). I really wanted it to be her. I had been wishing on every shooting star, in every night's prayer, I still wish it had been her. That moment is vividly burned in my mind, I can see Aunt Sara's silhouette (it was kind of dark), and I can hear her Southern sing-song voice - that sounded just like Annie Tannie's - saying "Ah" instead of "I."

I have to limit it like this to keep from over burdening myself emotionally. This is not what I originally expected to write! I was think of something much more brief - oops!

Maybe next time I'll do 5-10 years, if I can take it.

End of semester breakdown to begin in - no, started 6 hours ago, when I woke up at 3:30 am with more to do than one person possibly can in one day.

FUCK

Identity crisis.

I'm in one.

I know this because of my Adolescent Psychology class. A couple of weeks ago I wrote a reaction paper to our 'Identity' chapter. You'd be surprised how difficult it is to write about yourself. My first paper was easy. I'm a blogger, of course I can write about myself. This one was different. I knew the terms, I knew what they meant to a hypothetical subject, but I had trouble placing myself. For any person this would be difficult. After all, I have several identities: student, girlfriend, family member, waitress, etc. However, it seems that all of mine are up in the air - swapping limbs and trading clothes so that every time I review them they are different.

A nice little Wikipedia article about Erik Erikson sums up the identity crisis nicely for those of you not in an Adolescent Psychology class:

"people experience an identity crisis when they lose "a sense of personal sameness and historical continuity". "

I know who I want to be, and for the most part it hasn't changed in 10 years. I have though. I've moved farther away from my ideal self (another vocab word kids). It's maddening, confusing and I'm having a little trouble with it. I am not the person I want to be. I am disappointed with myself, and I'm not sure how I got here.

My goal in life is to make as little impact on the world as possible, and as big an impact on humanity as possible.

I am not doing either. I know, I know - I HAVE done a lot of other really important things in the last year, and maybe in the end they'll help me become who I'd like to be... but right now I just feel like shit.

I am leaving quite the "footprint" in my wake kids... it makes my stomach tight to think of how wasteful I am. I am materialistic to a disgusting point (to me) - you've seen my wish lists.

I have about as much spirituality in my body right now as I do folic acid, and I can tell you that the folic acid is below the suggested level.

I read all of Hungry Ghost last night. Even at the end of the book the protagonist is not among the most spiritual I've met, but it made me feel empty to compare myself, even though the character was pocked with flaws.

There is the idea in the book of the possible co-existence of Catholicism and Buddhism. Really, Christianity and Buddhism - details - I am not becoming a Buddhist. I am not fully embracing my Catholic roots. I have beliefs that I think may range between the two, though I'm not sure. I feel a lack of connection to any great power, and I think I need to feel that to feel better.

"What? You feel poorly?" You ask. Right, I haven't quite mentioned that yet.

I feel like I need to be silent for a week, and like I should fast. I feel like I need to be unburdened. I have so much STUFF that my hands never touch.
I feel like I need to spend a weekend out at Enchanted Rock. Hiking, sweating, camping, breathing. I need dirty hair and dirty clothes and quiet.

"simplify" was once my mantra. I'm bringing it back.