Random acts of kindness

...from Dorkface.

He paid Puff's vet bill. The remainder of it from when she was re-hospitalised last Thursday until we let her go on Saturday. I called this morning to get the total, and they told me it was paid. So I set out to call all possible culprits and when I got to my sister, she told me Dorkface had done it.

I'd been dreading that bill, so this means a lot to me. I figured it was going to be at least another $750, like her first bill. Ok, that doesn't relegate me to Ramen noodles for the rest of May, but...

He's called me three times since Saturday and I just didn't answer. Even though my attempt to show the world what a freaking jerk he is kind of just made me see that he's not as bad as I'm saying (well, *this* time), I'd decided I lack the metacognition to talk to him right now, 'cos he just comes off as so damn cold all the damn time. So I didn't answer. Now I feel like dirt.

Plus he's name-called me in public. I don't have to forgive him for that.

So I was all in the zone of "I guess I have to call him now, and at least offer to pay him back, or something. Sigh." You know.

I had lunch with my sister, and told her I was sorry that I was grumpy, that I hope she has a good time, I hope she kicks ass there, and I hope she doesn't get so frustrated with Mom that she chucks her off the top of the Mirage.

Well, this is the diabetic, heart-disease ridden cancer-survivor who won't listen to a word anyone says, and insists that fried fish counts as fish and is good for your heart because it has fish oil, that chocolate-covered raisins are fruit, that she doesn't need to check her blood sugar 'cos she's not eaten anything today, and so forth. Plus she'd mortgage her home to play slots if you don't watch her.

Talk about a lab rat. I mean seriously.

So I wished Paris good luck, and told her I'd miss her. Asked if she needed anything, and she said she needed a lint brush, so I picked two up for her--the rolly, sticky kind, and the furry kind--because I'm sure she has a mental model of a lint brush, and the way she is, if it's not *that* kind of lint brush, it's not a lint brush. Her last day of classes (she teaches, involuntarily; other than teaching, there's not a lot of money to be made in like, private-sector work for her degree. You can do research, and she does, but you have to teach too. At least that's true for most people like her.) is today, and she has to give her last final, so after we ate I picked up her brushes and came home to try to get something accomplished in case I'd been given an I (incomplete) in that one class. I doubt it, but...just in case. I hate unfinished business.

So I start avoiding work by surfing; I still don't feel all that great, though I feel a hell of a lot better than I did yesterday. I for sure don't feel like working, but that's becoming a recurring theme in my life right now. I have never felt this lazy and useless before, at least not in a long time, and I haven't felt this...forlorn in a long long time. And it's been snowballing; this thing with Puff just pushed it over the Cliff of Despair a little bit faster. I'm unhappy about a lot of things. And I am having Brain Issues; it feels like anything anyone said to me in the past few weeks has gone in one ear and out the other. In short, I'm fucking MISERABLE. About everything.

And after I went through some news I didn't care about and stuff, I went over to read someone else's blog. I'm not a big blog-reader, but I have a few faves, and if I ever have a spare minute, I'll someday figure out how to add linked blogs and stuff. Ideally, no one from either work or school will ever stumble across mine, or if they do the polysyllabic words will be off-putting.

I am such a bitch. :-) But I'm actually giggling. Well, a little.

Because I feel better, at least a little. I actually didn't get past the first entry part of what I was reading. I've been awful. No, I really have. It works like this: "People who abandon their dreams will discourage yours". I read that, and thought, "that's exactly what I'm talking about here! All these bastards, discouraging me... I'm glad I don't do that!"

Then I kinda realised that I actually do. Kind of like I've been forced to face the fact that, from Puff's perspective, I did a lot of mouthing off about how I loved her, but to her reality, all I did was run off and play bunny-hugger bingo at the hutch. Just like I blame others for doing.

Paris' dream is to do this Poker Thing. And all I can care about is how it affects me. The same could be said of what I'm doing to a lot of people. I'm being selfish, because I'm fucking miserable. I'm discouraging their dreams, because I feel like mine are so far away and being discouraged. I'm not doing it in every way, but I'm doing it in a lot of ways. In the ways that really count. To people that really matter.

So I'm making amends. I called Paris before she went into class, and told her that I love her, and that I am REALLY sorry I was grumpy. That I will give her my Lucky Bufus Buddah Frog for extra luck, and that I think taking Mom is a very nice Mom's Day present, and that it was smart of her to think of doing, and thank you for picking up my slack on this and other things, and that I'm sorry that I was so wrapped up in my own stuff that I didn't listen to her when she told me the first time, and then tried to make her feel guilty when she reminded me last night.

Paris' reply: "You're nuts. I love you; no problem." I'll keep telling her until she gets it.

I need to email my advisor, and apologise for acting distant, or mismanaging such that I was maybe spinning my wheels when I should have been moving forward. How she acted is immaterial; in a Vonnegut sense, she's wired that way. I should expect nothing else. I, however, behaved badly. And I'm going to apologise for it. If she doesn't apologise in turn, well that's ok, too.

I need to call my mother and apologise for not coming over and making sure she was all right when she fell. And for being too busy to do things with her, and I need to just talk to her, and listen to her without thinking of the ten thousand other things I need to be doing. For once. She may ramble on, but she's entitled to.

I need to call a few other people and apologise for not doing as I should have by them, too. The more I think about it, the longer the list grows. Like Mom, some of their dreams might have involved me in some way, but if they did, the way I've been I have let them down.

And I need to call Dorkface. And at least thank him. And maybe try to find out what in the hell his dreams are, other than maybe discovering that there was a mistake at the hospital and I was switched at birth with whomever it is that is really his sister. And if I can find out, maybe stop discouraging them. Somehow.

So I am off to do just that. Then I'm getting to work on that dumbass incomplete that I probably don't have, but am duty-bound to avoid. Then I am going to figure out exactly what it is that I am feeling so discouraged over that I'm getting all selfish and discouraging of others. And I need to apologise to everyone including myself, for inflicting all this Moby-like, Morrissey-ish, "Everything Is Wrong" whine that's been taking up too much of my time. I can't be positive always, and this is the primary reason I don't like talking with people--because I feel like when I do, I am depressing. And I think I'm right--I *am* depressing. But I'm also misleading: Everything isn't wrong. Some things I don't like, but god damn it, everything isn't wrong. And even if it were, I don't have to focus on that. That part is voluntary. I'm not a cheerleader by any means, but I'm creating a false dilemma by framing it as either being a cheerleader and fake or being real and depressing. That's not the choice here; there's middle ground that I'm not taking advantage of. This seeing things in black-and-white is a long-standing Achilles' Heel of mine, and I know it.

Now I've got to make some long-overdue phone calls. Thank you, Ms Grammarian; I needed that. Really. You rock.