That Stew Needs Less Spice

I like to whistle while I work.  Not really, but I do like a tune to groove too; upbeat and demanding I hustle my buns.  It's a workable system.  Now while I am not permitted to wear headphones while I work there are no clearly defined rules against bluetooth speakers.  Thus my dilemma of how to keep motivated and make even greater numbers was solved, many gadget driven moons ago.  Ah my love of technology knows few bounds.

Last night however I did the unthinkable.  I worked sans music.  It wasn't my best idea ever.  Oh I still hustled.  I even made damn fine numbers.  I also mind you allowed those niggling thoughts in to take center stage, that my music more often than not drowns out.  It's never pretty when I get this way.  There I was hustling in and out of my cell when this thought popped clear as day into my head.  "Pirates pet name that I alone call him, has been the butt of many a joke; and yet here are two people I'm perturbed with using it like its all theirs to use. well I'm never using it again."  My brain and angry heart shouted.

Thus began the next 4 hours of brain drain.  It's not a pet name that anyone else would use for him.  It was something private and quite personal.  It meant something to he and I, and while a few others were privy to it; I never dreamed they would use it.  in exceedingly simplistic terms, it's like ones toothbrush.  It's there, we all use one.  We know most if not everyone else has one, but would we walk into another's personal space and just use it?  Well, no.  it's an invasion of personal space and even another's intimacy.  The thought of these two specific people using something so personal and special to me, made my stomach turn and the bile rise in my throat. 

It bothers me far more than I like to admit.  Even to myself.  What is this feeling?  Jealousy?  Discomfort?  Annoyance?  Pride?  Possessiveness?  It's all very unclear to me, as I am not one to feel those emotions.  I dislike it muchly!

     

Coffin Ridge

Last night I couldn't seem to do anything right.  Hell most of yesterday it felt that way.  I was a walking, talking, stumbling, mumbling train wreck, with a blast radius that just didn't seem to quit.  Much like my hips, and no they don't lie.  My wave of destruction and chaos followed me into work; much to my horror.  I could not have done worse if I'd stood back like 15 feet and just lobbed parts at the machine, while hoping for a stellar outcome.

Oh what a night... Though it isn't late December, nor is it '63. 

As I've mentioned I was struggling with what to do about this apparent requirement for a divorce and possibly looking to walk that plank...errr isle again.  Turns out that's just never going to happen.  Not now.  Don't get me wrong, the Pirate and I are fine and dandy, or we will be once I stop feeling annoyed?  That's not exactly it, maybe hurt?  I'm not really accustomed to this "human feelings" bullshit so I'm no certain.  I just know that when I mentioned that I was trying to find my marriage certificate online and then a reasonable do-it-yourself divorce package as he had requested I "get my shit in order so I can e his Mrs Pirate".  He responded with, "well just remember that you're never taking my shit when you leave."

I was gobsmacked.  Here I was stressing over events that I can barely remember.  Seriously I haven't a clue as to when my ex-current husband and I got married.  Nor do I care, except that I need that information for divorce papers, and my current love, man of my dreams comes out with that horse shit.  You've got to be fucking kidding me.  1: Any relationship I've walked away from be there kids involved or not, I've walked with what fit in my single backpack and never once looked back.  Never once asked for or received child support or any other form of financial aid, let alone taking anything that I hadn't bought myself for myself or was a family heirloom.  Which I promptly snapped back at him with.

Angry, in that moment it was more like livid.  In that moment I also saw that he'd already come to the conclusion that we won't last.  This isn't forever.  Of course I can stop being an annoyed wife for 5 and see exactly why he said it and where he's coming from.  I truly can.  He's justified in those general feelings but I've never given him reason to doubt me and there I sat, being doubted.  it fucking sucked.  It stayed with me all night and even this morning I found myself still .... upset if the only term I can use that makes sense.  I can't nail down the emotion.  It's just not defining itself at present. 

Suffice to say my views on marriage haven't gotten better with this latest occurrence.  In fact it completely solidified my belief that marriage is just never going to be for me.  That dream is long since died and trying to raise the dead is always a bad idea.  We all saw pet cemetary right?  Look how well that turned out.  No thanks.  Those dreams I had of being a beautiful bride with that handsome dude waiting for me with that shit eating grin on his face, ecstatic to see me walking to join him in wedded bliss wasn't ever meant to be anything more than a really cool dream. 

Now I'd actually be pretty chill about it all in reality, but it all kinda snowballed into me being a nonemotional/emotional idiot who let a past remark sneak it's way into the assorted mess and just eat at me all fucking night.  By the gods and goddesses when I turn silly female I go for the gusto.  No need to do things half assed with me.  Let me take that almost healed wound and pick at it till it's a gaping void and bleeding out like a gunshot victim.  Go me!   

Papers

Certificates, outside of those that earn me a larger income or the possibility to earn a larger income, have never actually meant anything to me.  Those certificates or documentation that are by all rites a societal standard, birth, death, marriage, baptism to me are nothing more than a waste of paper.  They are for government use and bear no actual meaning to my life.  I know I am alive, I know whom I love, I know that I began dying the very day I was born as are we all; so why are these papers so important to so many.  Or is the better question why do so many require these papers to give their lives meaning or worth?

I am garnering that the marriage certificate is more important to Pirate than I had originally understood, if last nights comment is to be accepted at face value.  I am unsure at this moment how I actually feel or as how to proceed with the information I have.  As I've stated more than once now, I hold absolutely no importance in marriage licenses or documentation.  Far too many people believe that a marriage certificate magically creates a barrier for their partners, or the outside world.  Possibly both; in terms of stopping wandering eyes and infidelity.  Statistics have readily debunked that theory, as have countless episodes of Jerry Springer.       

Yet here I sit, contemplating the logistics of such documentation to please, or is it appease the man I love and the fact that he would prefer I have his last name, and not the current on upon my SIN card.

It's not an accidental entanglement; 

it's an intentional knot. Love belongs 

with belonging.   

Serving the Baron

Baron Samedi aka: Baron Saturday my Loa, my friend.  It's that kind of Saturday already and it's only 10:51 am.

For the so called complicated woman that I am, I like my life exceptionally simple.  I dislike drama, and the tediousness of needy, self indulged people.  They almost always seem to require some life sucking, energy draining attention that just makes my trigger finger itch.  I lack patience and the understanding to deal effectively with such individuals.  That isn't to say that I am not going to be readily there for anyone whom requires true aid, I just refuse to enable or put up with those that act helpless but are anything but.

Why am I surrounded by so many of them?

Thankfully today the Baron has granted me life once more and the drive to continue on.  One day he will decide that it is time for me to join him.  Today however, isn't that day.  When my day comes I will greet him fondly with a cigar, rum, and some bawdy joke to make him laugh.  The Baron and I will be fast friends.

Until such time arises, I raise a glass and tip of the hat in him honour.    

Maman Kind of Night

It wasn't a bad day, work was a beautiful thing last evening.  I'm somewhere I enjoy and that challenges me to push myself harder.  It's a new machine, which few know anything about or even how to fix.  I have worked 90% of it out on my own.  It's a good feeling.  For someone like me it's a requirement to keep my overly active brain busy and thus rather tired.  That overly active brain of mine has as of late been way too active and not happy with the world at large.

I am finding that I am missing the adult time that I had become accustomed to.  Or quite possibly it is the connection I felt when we were that intimate.  I could pout and sulk like a child, yet this maturity has given me the grace to understand that like all things, this too  must ebb and flow.  I do believe that our sheer exhaustion has had a great deal to do with it all.  We've been through a great deal this last month, much of which has been both stressful and disappointing.  I am looking forward to things smoothing out and our connection growing deeper.