Monday, October 05, 2015
Frustration number two. I uploaded the new Windows 10 on my desktop. I had done so earlier on my laptop and it went smoothly without a hitch. I don’t mind the program, it’s a cross between XP and Windows 8, featuring the familiar features I love about XP, mixed with some of the newer features of 8, and splashed with a little bit of even newer options with the 10. THAT I can handle. Give me a little bit of familiar territory and ease me into the new stuff. Smart. Convenient. Doable. But, low and behold, my desktop obviously doesn’t like the transition. I have spent the better part of my morning trying to figure out WHY I get to the load screen, type in my password, to have it only return back to the load screen, to type in my password, but NOT load up the program. FUCK YOU technology. I honestly don’t have the patience to handle all these little road blocks that are preventing me from being at my most productive. I’ve got things to do. I’ve got a life I need to get back on track. I’ve got to get busy, getting busy. But NO, I have to waste MOST of my morning piddling around with fucking updates and booting problems. Can you tell I’m frustrated just a bit? I did actually wake up in a good mood, with a positive attitude, and with a happy outlook for a beautiful day.
Frustration number three. I know I’ve been hiding. I know I’ve been trying hard to acclimate to my new life, my new surroundings, my new …. well, everything. But, damn… do I have to do it with the new ten pounds I gained? Really? Granted I’ve not been exercising. Granted, my routine got detoured. Granted I’ve spent a few days vegging out on television shows and video games, snacking all day (it doesn’t help I have a roommate that likes to cook ALL THE TIME), and smelling food cooking all day long, etc. Granted my allergies are killing me, and I mean literally killing me. I live with a dog. He’s a handsome little fellow, and lovable as can be. He’s adorable. Problem is, I’m allergic to dog hair, and this little cutie leaves hair everywhere. How can I keep him out of my room, off my bed when he’s such a soothing medicine to me, cuddling up to me, loving on me? I’m scared. I’m frustrated. I’m nervous about my future and my life. I miss my kids. I’m in unfamiliar territory. I need him. But, I can’t breathe, my ears are constantly stopped up, I have sinus migraines, and my lungs feel like they have a tight band around them. I’m taking antihistamines that make me drowsy and lethargic, but they help …some. I have an air purifier, that I think helps, but I can’t make myself UNallergic to dog hair. I can’t leave. The dog can’t leave. So what am I to do? How am I to persevere? Why the hell can’t my body, which grew up with dogs, get over this allergy shit and just go back to being normal? Oh, boy.
And sex… well, I haven’t had sex in a while. I’m not looking for a partner at the moment, and really I feel sick just even thinking about jumping back into the dating pool. You want to talk about frustration… dating in the 21st century is very, very frustrating. While masturbation helps a bit, I’m sexually frustrated at the moment too.
So, yeah, I’m a little frustrated. Well, okay… I’m a LOT of frustrated. But even so, I’m also very hopeful, very optimistic about what lies ahead of me. I have returned to my workout (even if the damned app didn’t record it), I will find that dependable job, then I will be able to move into my own apartment (dog free), and my sinuses will get a reprieve (if they don’t kill me first), I will lose these ten pounds and more, I will see my kids again somehow, I will fall in love and be loved in return, I will figure out what my new dreams are… and I will make them come true. How do I know this? I know me. I’ve been here before. I may be frustrated. I may be at another difficult cross road. I may have been knocked down a little bit. But, I’m a fighter. I never stay down too long. And if you know me at all, no matter how down I feel, how tough life gets, or how hopeless everything seems… I NEVER give up.
I’ve rested long enough. I’m dusting my (fat) ass off, standing back up, and lacing up my gloves. Let’s get this show on the road, bitch.
Till next time,