Oh man.

It’s nearly one am. I am freezing cold – it’s in minus figures out – can hardly feel my fingers and toes in spite of the heater doing it’s job. Would dearly love to be in bed… but can’t see sleep being on my to-do list for tonight.

Sitting up with my girl. After a weeks worth of broken sleep due to tummy troubles between her and my dog, it’s flared up in my old girl badly this time… we’re off to the vet in the morning to work out if it’s just a bug or something more serious. I can’t keep these nights up. They’ll just have to bloody well work something out, the old girl has been through enough without adding this to the list. And I can’t handle many more nights of no sleep. And nor can those who live with me!

At this late hour, it’s hard to find anything positive in life. I suppose the fact that I can in fact think that thought is a good start.

And at least I have the Olympics to keep me company! Like many, I take a sudden interest in sports that at any other stage I couldn’t give less of a shit about, and become a sudden expert in them. It’s the Australian way. And I suspect the way of a variety of countries, in fact.

Still pondering life… the spazz attacks have most certainly abated – life has calmed and I’m feeling like there is an end to this after all. I’d like to say I have no idea what caused all the problems to flare up again, but I have my suspicions and to allow one small part of my life to control the rest is sad and frustrating, but how it rolls for me. Control that aspect and most of the rest will fall into place. For now, it is in place, and I’m feeling better about things. I just have to maintain my current state of mental health, and take care not to allow myself to be in a position where things just build up and take over again – I need to concentrate on maintaining my own equilibrium. This should be my goal, for this decade in my life. I can function in a (more or less) ‘normal’ fashion if I take care, and do not over commit, do not allow myself to be used and expected of. And remember to pop my supplements whenever I start feeling like things are getting on top of me.

Which reminds me, I should thank the person who put me onto them.

Blaugh. Stupid tv show encouraging people to freak out and worry about their cellulite, and then run out and get lasered within an inch of their lives to get rid of it. It’s sad. And dangerous. Don’t people – women especially – have enough pressure on them to be ‘beautiful’ without extra crap? I suppose I’m as bad as the next person – I’m taller than average and already wearing a smaller clothes size than average, but I still feel like I’m carrying extra weight. I still feel like I can afford to lose a few kgs, and that I would look better for it. I also acknowledge that this is due to my poor diet and lack of exercise, and it’s my own fault and if I want to budge anything there’s no reason why I shouldn’t be able to do it the right way.

I also saw some stupid diet program all over Facebook, and their page is full of before and after photos of women who were perfectly healthy to start with. I’m not sure which is sadder, that these women felt the urge to ‘improve’ something that was already perfect (if it’s healthy, it’s perfect!) or that they needed gratification and praise from strangers they’d never met, nor meet on the internet, whose opinion should be worth nothing and who don’t know their story to begin with.

Righto. So onto other more pressing things in my life, which hopefully aren’t quite so… sad? Depressing.

The obsessive part of my personality has come to the fore again. I’m once again putting myself into a position where I will invoke the evil Spazz Monster, by organising a social thing which will basically leave me in the potential position of feeling like I have no friends, no respect and no one cares to help me out. On the other hand, it may leave me in the potential position of enjoying a day, doing something fun and scoring some cheap and/or free products for My Big Project – I wont relax until it’s over though. I spend all this time leading up to it, chasing people and waving things in their faces to get help, I can’t worry but think it leaves me looking a little… desperate.

I’m also obsessing over my latest novelty fun – upcycling. Again with the upcycling. Keen to have a crack and upcycling busted lamps into beautiful new creations, instead of them getting dumped on landfill because they’re broken. Just need to come up with some brilliant ideas… assuming that I can get the bits I need. That comes down to whether or not the business who presently own them can chuck them in the rubbish, or have to send them back to the supplier. I still haven’t worked out how to make my beautiful colander into a light shade. But it is going to happen. Oh yes, it is.

Other than all this? Life chugs along in a very satisfactory fashion. Some aspects are not progressing quite as well as I’d have hoped, others are progressing very well indeedie. Swings and roundabouts.

The most important thing for me, is to keep progressing. Until I am where I want to be. Right now, I am moving forwards and this is worth celebrating.

I’m starting to feel better about life, in regards to spazz attacks. And in general.

I have my study mojo back! After nearly 18 months and have finally made a start on my diploma. I have always really enjoyed my studies (which is fortunate as I’ve now been a student of varying forms for nearly three decades!) and have actually hated not doing it… but the motivation just wasn’t there. With school and the government breathing down my neck, it just really hasn’t been something I’ve enjoyed – a chicken and egg situation. Has lack of study motivation caused spazz attacks or has spazz attacks caused lack of study motivation? Either way, all has alleviated… for now. My study institution of choice has not been making my life easy so hopefully this will remain on the up and up.

I gleefully pointed out to the crabby one that I will be the first person in the family with a diploma. She was quick to point out that she already has one, just doesn’t have the paper to prove it… No. This is not how it works. You do not have one, you’re just saying that because you don’t want me to think I’ve done something good, something you never achieved.  If you really do want one, you will have to go back to school and earn it like everyone else. Stop pissing in my weetbix and be happy for me for a change!

Am confident now with my ongoing voluntary committment – hasn’t caused me any concern all year so I figure it isn’t about to start now. Speaking too soon? Possibly. Can I credit my newfound level headedness on the supplements? Who knows. I do find myself handling life a lot easier these days. Maybe one day I’ll even get normal.

Pshaw. Who wants to be normal?

(me…)

I am busily making purchases of strange and kitch items for The Big Project. I should be focussing on FINISHING the bloody thing before I start kitting it out, but I can’t help myself. I must make purchases of lovely and interesting items. I really am concerned that I’m going to get to the end point, where I set up this lovely space and make it very moi, and discover that I can’t make all these uniquely crazy pieces work together. That it will end up looking like a Second Hand Store of Loopy Items That Don’t Actually Match. Please don’t make me choose which of my beautiful items I want to get rid of 😦

I’m still trying to think of some unique and interesting – yet not ugly – lightshades.

I see a banana that needs eating.

I think I might spend my weekend doing homework and tidying – two jobs that are always guaranteed to make me feel better about life. I hate clutter.

Paranoid.

I have discovered that you can look up stats on who looks at your blog… I’ve had an amusing moment of discovering that people have found my blog by searching for things like “midget’s”, “lady pissing/shitting face”, “crap rolls downhill funny”, and “maximum boob” but also that people have found me directly by googling my name. Not my real name, but Broken Bella Donna, or variations thereof.

I also see that I’m getting one hit nearly every day, and rarely any more – which makes me think the same person is checking this nearly every day. Someone who lives in the same country as me.

I’m worried that my family have seen me and googled it, to see what I’m writing. So, if one of you are reading it, please piss off. I need my private ranty space and I don’t particularly want you reading it.

And if someone IS checking this on a daily basis, please tell me who you are so I can stop worrying. I’ve not grown particularly attached to this blog and am quite willing to abandon it if necessary.

Time to re read all my posts and fret about who may have read them.

Sometimes things don’t go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost, green thrives, the crops don’t fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war,
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.

Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss; sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.

By Sheenagh Pugh

Mmm. Fifth installment went stress free. Sixth is next and not only comes with the added bonus of the fundraising organisation, but also now comes with the reinvention of the ex’s horny attentions. Oh yes. For some reason he’s back to his solar boob gazing best. (Don’t look at the boobs too long, they’re like the sun, your retinas will burn. So flicker frantically between eyes and boobs for maximum boob fill whilst still pretending you’re paying attention to the conversation.) And again with the friggen comments.

Every time I manage to relax and sort out my brain he steps back up with his bullshit. I know it’s all him, and not me and I know I’m not going to do anything but it causes me so much stress. I never know how to react and become so wound up leading up to situations when I know I’ll see him, which unfortunately is often. And it’s unavoidable. I haven’t been taking my magical supplements so I will resume that again tomorrow, and see if that winds me back down at all. In the meantime I’m just going to avoid anything to do with him, and make sure that when I’m in a situation with him that I do nothing to provoke his behaviour. It’s so frustrating, to be in this position, to be worrying about something that someone else is doing wrong and I have little to no control over.

He makes me feel like an awkward twelve year old and not in a good way.

So anyway.

Finally made some progress on my studies and am tentatively positive I may have a unit mostly completed by next weekend. Huzzah. Still puts me epically behind but I work well to a deadline, pressure is good – as they say, if you want something done, give it to a busy person. I work best when busy. So I’m feeling much more positive on that front – if I can only catch up there, then I’ll have very little excuse not to be happy.

No progress on The Big Project – next step involves borrowing something from the horny ex, so I’m reluctant.

So where does this leave me in life?

Things aren’t too shabby. I feel like I’m opening myself up to massive trauma now, as in the last… err, forever… every time I feel good about life, something fucks up, and every time I blog about feeling good the shit hits the fan bigtime. But I don’t believe in that sort of bullshit so I’m gonna keep throwing positive out there into the blogosphere, until things work out!

Bring it on, bitch!

Yawns. Time to go to bed and warm up the old tootsies.