Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing
Sunday, Dec. 31, 2006 - 12:19 a.m.
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
Year End Blues
I am just bumming.
I dunno. It is the new year in a little less than 24 hours.
What will 2007 bring?
I am not so optimistic.
Will I get any work? I am bummed about the illustration industry. It suckoramas. Prices have gone down in the last 15 years. There is less work and less respect. I am being eclipsed by computer illustrators. I don't want to spend my days on a computer. I like art supplies. I may as well be an accountant if i draw on the computer.
Love life. Hah. I don't meet anyone. The brief stint I did on internet dating was horrid. I hate when you meet people and think you click and they don't call you back after the third date. I hate when you don't think you click, but they do and become weird stalker types. I think almost all men over 35 look um, old. Incredibly unattractive. I don't meet dykes. Or they want someone feminine or someone butch. Or they only like lesbians who have never touched men. Or they are androgynous into soccer and volleyball. Ack. I don't even have dogwalkie friends anymore really. Just one or two. I am babysitting someone's dog right now. She is old and on her last unstable quickly deteriorating legs. I hope she lasts the month til her owner gets back.
Dogs. Should i get another one. It is incredible not to have to walk around lonely outside for hours daily in inclement weather. It is also incredible not to have dog drool on the walls, and to be able to walk on the floor in my stocking feet... no hairballs. I should get one. I should not get one. How could I ever have another dog, so nice, so few problems. Other dogs bark. Or dig holes in the yard. Or chew the furniture. Or run away. Or chase cats. Even Saint Bernards. How can I ever imagine to get another dog so good. hah.
Money. I didn't really look at my finances this year. I should have gotten more work done on the house when I got the mortgage renegotiated, to have more expenses in this calendar year. Once I got the outdoor work done, I lost my grip on it and forgot to stay on top of getting other things done. Now it is too late. I did manage to get all my charitable donations done at last minute today. Some of them will give me 2006 tax receipts and some will be difficult and only give me 2007 tax receipts, even though they were posted in 2006 (at the very very last minute: the postal counter was already closed, but I bought stamps at the pharmacy, and the postal people were sweet and postmarked them 2006). I haven't put any money aside for taxes, so I will be once again forever in the hole. I have no new books that are selling well, so there will be no surprise royalties in Feb to put into RRSPs to save taxes. I am just tired and depressed about the money thing. Money hasn't looked good since 2002.
Kid. Hah. I don't know that I'll ever have a family. People keep moving away. I meet no one, I have less money, I am just bumming. Egads, I even hate myself if I am like this... I hate when artsyguy acts like his life is over at 40, and here I am sounding the same.
Sex. Heck, I hardly care if I ever have sex again. I want to wear sweatshirts and baggy pants and sleep. I can scarcely remember having a good time in bed, exploring someone's body, doing wild and crazy fun things, laughing and experimenting. Have someone into me, really into me, into the sex. I just want to wear flannelette and drink cocoa. None of my fetish clothes fit anymore I don't think. They are made for a young sexy body. ahhh, I make it sound like I gained a hundred pounds. I didn't. I actually don't even look that bad... I have been working out on my stationary bike (while I watch tv... that's the rules) and benchpress... just not today. Today I want to cry and sleep.
Well, I dunno. I guess I'll go to bed. I really have to get started earlier tomorrow. I have a work deadline for Jan 2, and I have been procrastinating for two days. I did the dishes. And the laundry. The charitable donations. Shopping for a foster child overseas. But I didn't spray the bugs on the plants (yes the same old fight), or wash the smudgy windows, or vacuum. Or do the drawings. Tomorrow. Always there is tomorrow.
Wish me a 2007 where I find my will to plow forward again. Maybe even with wings on my feet and a song in my heart. Cuz they sure aren't here now.
Ob, I still miss you. Why did you have to screw me around. It still makes me so sad.
byebye
me
wenchie
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previous meanderings - future past
Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009
