I Swear I’m Alive

It’s been a long month. 

I went from finally working up the nerve to ask my temp agency for a new placement to going permanent at the same company I’ve been at for more than a year, because it pays pretty well all things considered and has neither given me an ulcer nor driven me to more than a few fingers of actual liquor in one sitting—at least not so far. I’m shooting for another few years to give my résumé some stability, unless it suddenly gets absolutely, intolerably toxic. 

I had the house to myself for a week, which reminded me what I miss and what I definitely don’t miss about living on my own. Pros? Exercising the no-pants PJs option, taking a bath at 3 am without waking the whole house up.  Cons? Too much time alone in my own head, no super-friendly baby smiles when I got home from work. (I also briefly worried that one of my roommates’ cats had either gotten outside or holed up somewhere and died. But it turns out she just sort of forgets to exist when my roommate isn’t here and was probably under a couch the whole time.) 

Walmart stopped carrying the lactase supplements I depend on to keep from having to follow a crazy strict no-dairy diet (I could maybe do it if not for cheese. I really, really missed cheese before I found the supplements). But it turns out it’s okay because Target just started carrying them. 

I’m slowly but surely undoing some really stupid financial decisions from a few years ago; that’s a super-fun story of its own featuring fifty-hour workweeks, several different flavors of debt, and a series of actual sobbing phone calls that led me from North Carolina to Tennessee last year. 

I’m substituting orange juice for wine as my after work drink because that’s just a terrible habit to get into with my particular genetics. I’ve also started logging when I have a glass of something on my wall calendar to get a better grasp on how much and how often. 

I’ve started folding back into myself again for reasons I don’t understand. I could’ve been downstairs learning to play a new table top game tonight, but I had some ice cream while I watched a friend teach my roommates how to play and went up to my room to read for a while before bed, because I get obsessive about my routine when I’m heading into a funk. Ironic that I avoided playing because I didn’t want to be up too late, n’est-ce pas? It’s like watching from outside, hearing the fun being had and knowing I’m more than welcome to sit down and join, but opting to hoard what mental energy I’ve got left after work—never mind that that ish definitely does not have a rollover balance. 

So yeah. It’s been a long month, y’all. 

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