Pissy People

I was in such a good mood this morning when I got to work. I was excited about finally moving completely into my new place and moving all of my animals with me. I hardly slept at all last night and made it to work an hour before I usually do.

Shortly after I got there, there was a page for a vet to the bathing room STAT, which is never a good thing. I asked a co-worker who had passed by everything on her way inside what was going on. She said that a dog that was being taken out to the bathroom had taken a few steps and then collapsed. She came back later and told me that the dog had passed away.

I finished what I was doing within a couple of minutes and made my way back to the area in search of this dog. I guess inside I feel some need to pay my last respects upon knowing they're gone, and having vaguely known their story.

The first place I looked was in surgery where the emergencies are usually taken. No animals were around, but a vet tech was in there, one who is known to be rude and short with other employees, but she and I had never had any issues until today. I asked her if she knew where the dog was, and she responded "What dog?" I said "the dog that just died." She didn't answer, but instead asked me why I wanted to know. I was completely caught off guard by the question, and quite frankly at the time didn't know myself why I felt a need to see this dog. The first thing that came to my mind was that I wanted to know what kind it was. Then she responds that she couldn't see why I didn't ask what kind it was to begin with, and that it was a cocker spaniel.

I can never think of any good comebacks at the right time. At this point a much nicer employee walked into the room and told me the dog had already been wrapped up and put in the refrigerator. I'm sorry if this TMI for some. That was the response I was looking for; either the dog had been wrapped up, or it was still somewhere waiting to be wrapped up.

I wish that I was a stronger person when it came to confrontations like these, but I'm not. I say nothing at that time, and then stew about it for the rest of the day, and most likely tomorrow.

I guess it all stems back to the fact that this person doesn't really know me well enough to know why I was asking the question. And most likely doesn't even care to know the real reason because she already has some preconceived notion in her head.

Or maybe she is just a bitch and doesn't care about anyone else other than herself. That's probably more likely the answer.

Computers and the word "Should"

I want to smash my computer into little pieces. My mouse all of a sudden stopped working yesterday and being that the cats have almost chewed the cord in half, I figured it was time to replace it. I bought a new one at Staples tonight and I can't get the damn thing to work. I keep getting this message "USB Device Not Recognized". Arrgghhh! So most likely my old mouse was still performing and there is something wrong with the USB port...I cannot function with this little finger-tip pad thing, I may be buying a new laptop.

Onto other subjects, I think I have been doing pretty well emotionally after having broke up with the ex. I did break down and have looked at his Myspace page a couple of times (slap my hand), but luckily there wasn't anything about me on it. He must be the only one on the planet that doesn't have his profile set to "private". We have spoken via text a couple of times and things are pretty civil. He's agreed that we are better as friends than as a couple and I think hearing him say that has allowed it to sink in that we won't be getting back together.
In order to help me sort out this identity crisis I'm going through, I have sought the help of a therapist. I had a session with her today. While driving to the appointment I was thinking about what had occurred since our last session that we could talk about.

I have been in therapy before, and after a couple of sessions, I tend to drop out when I start to feel better. And then things build up and build up and I am right back at the therapist's office again, having never really solved any issues. I was thinking that the only new thing to tell her about was that I ended things with the ex and am happier and in a much better mood now. Then I remembered the BIG word that was exchanged between my mother and I that needed addressed.

I am renting their house from them and was moving into it last weekend. I called her the day after the break up and told her that the ex would not be helping me move. There was no empathy from her. The first thing out of her mouth was "You SHOULD feel sorry for him. He moved back into his parents' house and took a new job for you." I told her to "don't even f^%*ing start" (I rarely cuss at all, but it's like I have to with her to get her to understand that I am pissed??) and that she should be feeling sorry for me!! If anything, I stayed with him longer because I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

So I have realized that I hate, hate, hate the word "should" because it completely invalidates your true feelings. I had been telling myself "shoulds" all along:
I should be happy.
I should be in love.
I should marry him.

I'm glad that I was strong enough on the inside to know that something was wrong, instead of listening to all of the "shoulds" my mom shoved down my throat my whole life. After this post I am barring that word from my vocabulary ever again because it is such a controlling word.

Moving

Shoooo, I have been moving all weekend and I am exhausted to say the least. I moved into my first "real" apartment 9 years ago when I was 19. Moving this weekend made the 11th time I have moved since then!! It seems that I have a pattern of being unable to commit to things for anything longer than a year...On that same note, yesterday would have been the 1 year anniversary for the ex and me.

Goodbye Myspace, Hello Blogger

I took a big, big step tonight. After telling my boyfriend (now ex) once again that I needed time apart, I began the task of removing the items that reminded me of him from my life. I did the usual deletion from instant messenger, but I realized tonight that if I were to be successful in my attempts to "figure myself out" that I could not have any distractions. And MySpace is a huge temptuous black hole, just waiting to draw me back in.

You see if I'm bored and time allows, I won't just log on to look at my profile. No, I start to get nosy and curious, and I'll wander over to his profile to see if he has posted a blog about our breakup or any of his friends have left him comments of support. And if friends have left any comments, I won't stop there. I have to go check out their page to see if he left any comments back.

I am a MySpace stalker. Knowing good and well that anything posted about me will only most likely hurt my feelings, it makes me feel like a masochist to have this "gotta know" feeling burning inside of me. So I won't allow myself to continue this self-inflicted pain this time around. My MySpace account is cancelled for now because I simply do not have the willpower to stay away from his page; at least not right now anyway. And that is what brings me here.