Do I hear circus music?

So frustrated with standing in the same place. Seems that just as I think I’m moving forward, I get yanked back. Start to think my feet are under me, things are good, I know exactly what’s going on and then, boom, back to one. Pop-o-matic rules.

Personally, professionally, I keep going back to one. Frustrated with the film, which feels like it’s standing still because the bloody money just isn’t there. Don’t see how it’s going to be there. Thought I knew what to do, how to make it work, and it’s just not. I’ve been here so many fucking times before. Okay, universe, what do I need to learn? Just show me because I’m obviously dumber than a bag of hammers because I can’t see it.

Personally, back to one. Back to where I was in January with you-know-who. Maybe I should be brave and just put his name here. YOUR NAME HERE. Like those nametags you get at stupid events. Would be appropriate. This is a stupid event. It’s called love. Or lust. Or infatuation. Or hormones. Or being 43, facing 44 in literally weeks, not having had sex in a year, having not great sex for years before that. Maybe I should just throw away the thought that I could be in love with _____________ and just get laid. Maybe I’d get some perspective on ________ then. Doesn’t matter, I guess. I’d probably do that and still be wound up about __________. But at least I’d have one itch scratched. My luck, I’d end up pregnant and broke and frustrated.

Job front’s no better. Thought I had locked down this interview the other day. Perfect job. Working for a woman director, part-time, days that actually work for me, beautiful environment in Brentwood, good pay. She said she wanted me to come in Tuesday to try it for the afternoon to make sure we click. She’d call to confirm at the end of the day. Never called. Fuck.

Then had to deal with the ex yesterday, signing some papers to get rid of our time share. Stupid thing to buy. I knew it when we got it but he really wanted it. Never used it. What a waste of money. Oh, but it’s Vegas, we’ll go all the time. Yeah, right. Only went a handful of times, ended up staying at other places half the time, never did anything remotely interesting. Okay, so we saw some great shows but the rest of the time, we did nothing. Even Chairman commented when we were there because everything he’d suggest we do, I had never done/gone to/seen. He finally asked what we did when we had come before. Nothing. Just seeing the ex now brings out all this hostility in me. I’m past him in so many ways. But when I see him, I see him trying to hang on to a little of me and I think that’s what I resent. He asks so many questions about what I’m doing and how I’m doing and I want to scream at him, it’s none of your fucking business. You didn’t care this much when we were together. Why do you care now? Because I’m out of your control and you just don’t get it. Boy, I guess I just figured out what I need to do here. Let’s see, deal with some of this anger, maybe?

And what the hell is up with dropping everything and just making a complete ass out of myself? I can’t seem to find any coordination. The universe is having one big laugh at my expense. It keeps throwing banana peels under my feet. I try to be girly, I fall on my face. At Erin’s party the other night, I tried so hard to look cute (which I kinda did) but I practically fell down the stairs in my new high heels, accidentally unloaded my purse into the trash can by the door, taking everything on that table with it. Got changed at the fundraiser the other night into my little black dress, came out to make an impression because I was feeling good about how I looked, then Chairman very politely pointed out the huge black smudge across most of my left cheek. Took forever to get it off. So much for making an impression. Just now, as I reached for my laptop to vent, I knocked over a half glass of water, soaking everything stacked at the bottom of my bed. Why is everything stacked at the bottom of my bed? Because I’m trying to make a film and have no room to put anything in my room. I lay stuff out on the bed when I’m working but then have to cram everything back into a pile because I kinda have to sleep on my bed. I was going to pack up my craft stuff and use the table in the dining room but now I’m teaching craft classes at Michaels and trying to sell my journals, meaning I need the craft table.

I keep envisioning a huge hamster wheel or those hab-i-trail things they used to make for hamsters. I’m the little bugger that goes happily on her way, thinking she’s going somewhere, thinking she’s making some progress. Then, suddenly, I pop my head out and look around. Shit. I’m back to one. I fill up my cheeks with food to fortify, climb back into the wheel, and start all over again.

I’ll probably feel better tomorrow. Maybe not. I just don’t know anymore. Maybe it’s just the residual of the full moon and my head will be straight in a day or two and I’ll feel like I can take on the world. Maybe it’s the head cold and once my sinuses empty, I’ll feel better. Right now, I can’t take on posting this.

For some reason, these lyrics keep running through my mind:

On the day we met
I began to want you
On the day we met
I began to lose you too
Both of us circling round the moon
Both of us circling round the moon

and

It's hard to see the future
When your back is bending over your shoes
It's hard holding on to nothing
When you've got nothing to lose

Thank you, John Mellencamp.

Of course, underscored with calliope.