It's Wednesday. I've been in the new house three days now. Three mornings waking up to no lake. And a lifetime more of them to come.
I've had a very hard time with the transition. I cried all weekend at the lake before the move on Sunday. I went to the lake house to clean it yesterday and cried the entire time. Every time someone asks me how the new house is, I start crying. I'm on the verge of tears, always. I miss the lake.
I am hoping I'll be at peace with my decision soon.

On the upside, my boy spent two nights with me already this week. It has been over a month since I've had him overnight.
He promised he'd spend the first night with me in the new house, and he did. It was tense for a bit at first; he missed his dad. But then it passed, and the next day he actually decided to spend another night. It was so nice having him around again, I have missed him so. He really likes the new house. And I think the idea of his Dad being practically next door is a big part of what makes him so comfortable. His uncle Matt lives here in the park too, and a few of his Dad's close friends are in the area as well. It is home to him. I hope it will become home to me soon, too.
When he left last night he gave me a a few very long hugs and promised to come back again very soon.
So, on the upside, there is that.

I keep telling myself I made the right decision. Talking myself through all the reasons why this was the right thing for us, for me...
It's mine, I own it. It'll be paid off in a few years. It's affordable, low maintenance living in preparation for future retirement age. I'll see my son more (I already have seen this in effect). It's close to mom. It's far less expensive than renting. Oh, and.. it's mine.
But living on the water always was my life dream. And I was living it. And I gave it up. And I am in mourning. Seriously. If I could stop crying, that'd be great. Jeezus. I fucking hate being a girl.

Speaking of which...
I saw my shrink again this week. She suggested adding an anti-depressant to my current cocktail. I was actually going to ask for it if she hadn't suggested it, so we were already on the same page. We have to watch it closely though, as bi-polars don't always react well to stimulants. Hopefully it helps. Pretty soon I'll be a walking pharmacy.
Sometimes (a lot of the time), I wish I were an alcoholic, or an addict of some kind. Just so that I had some kind of substance to help me get out of my own head once in a while.
I hate my father for drinking himself to death, but god damnit, I can almost understand why he did.

Anyway...

The damn cat keeps getting outside. She's like a little escape artist. Scooting out by you as soon as you open the door. She was doing it at the lake too. There she'd scoot out by you, or she'd push the screens out of an open window. Here I worry about living in the country, and something getting her outside. She spent our very first night here outside overnight. I worried so. But she finally came back around the next morning. Damn cat. I've been able to keep her in since, but it's just a matter of time before she gets out again. Damn cat.

She's not going to be very happy if/when I bring a dog home. She hates dogs. She'll especially be wanting out then. I'm supposed to bring the new dog home this coming Sunday. I'm excited and nervous all at the same time. Will I be happy about it? Will it be added stress in my life? Will I regret it? I have been looking forward to it for weeks and now I'm hesitant. Is it just because I'm depressed about the move? I don't know. I am worried. I worry about everything, though. I worry about and overthink absolutely everything.
And not that I am preparing for the worst, but this is a different kind of scenario, and in this particular situation, if it doesn't work out for some strange unknown reason, the dog can always go back to her original home. Again, not that I would want that, and I'm certainly not expecting or preparing for that (and not that it would be ideal for her, I know).. I want it to work. I am planning on being her new forever person. But it's nice to know that there is that insurance, so to speak, just in case.
Again, I overthink absolutely everything in my life. Of course I would overthink this. Beat it dead into the ground until it becomes something enormously overwhelming. Why wouldn't I? It's what I do. Sigh.

Anyway...

Work has been a little more stressful than usual lately. My one happy place in life, damnit. That's what happens when you're short-staffed I guess. I've had to pick up a  night shift, which I absolutely abhor, for a couple reasons. First, it's way past my bedtime. I'm used to being in pajamas by 7 and in bed by 10, at the latest. Secondly, bar patrons are way different at night. When the sun sets, the level of crazy goes up, and my tolerance level goes down. Lord help me.
Lord, Universe, Buddha, whomever, whatever, please, please, please, let me hire a new bartender , STAT.

Anyway...

I'm sitting here alone in the new house for the first time. Dawson was here the first couple nights, and Phil last night. But they're both gone, and now I get to see how it feels here alone. I'll be alone until Phil comes back on Friday, for one night (he's only around a couple nights a week), or until Dawson pops back in for a visit. I'm so glad I was able to have them for company the first few days here. This transition has been hard enough as it is, going it alone would have been awful. Now to see how it will feel being here alone, as I will be a lot of the time...
Guess this'll help me figure out how much I'll need that dog, won't it?

Be well.

It's Friday. Yesterday I thought it was Friday, but today is actually Friday.
Once again, without the boy here, the days are difficult to keep track of. That hasn't gotten any easier.

Not having the boy around hasn't gotten any easier, either.
Although I do see him whenever I'm at the new house. If I'm there unpacking, or cleaning, or painting... He'll spin over on his wheeler or dirt bike... I'm hoping that trend continues when I'm fully moved in. Hopefully he'll even stay over. We shall see.
He came over to the lake last weekend for a day, when it was really hot. It was so nice to have him for the day. Logan came over too, and mom as well. It was so nice to have my family together for the day. I went to bed happy that night.
Then there are the nights I cry all the way home from work, because I miss him so much, and I'm without him, and alone. Nights like last night.

Speaking of which... The new meds don't seem to be doing a whole lot, at least I don't think so. It's hard to say. I guess I never really can tell. Maybe they're helping a little. I'm still on a moderate dose. We only just went up on the dose and added a second med a week ago, so maybe I need to give it more time. Sometimes I hate the idea of being medicated. But the low has been pretty fucking fierce this year, so I know it's needed. There are some days I can't get out of my head, and it's hard to get through a work day. Yesterday it was noticeable to my customers, and I can't have that. Keep trying.

Leaving the lake is going to be hard. I do love living on the water, so much. I've dreamt of living on the water my whole life, and now I've lived it. There really is nothing quite like waking to the water every morning, or coming home to it every night from work. And even though it's been my dream, I still know that I'm making the right decision, for a lot of reasons.
This little place will be my own, I'll own it, even though I won't own the land (that almost relieves some of the headache). It'll be paid off by the time I'm 53. It'll be inexpensive, low maintenance living. It's super close (basically next door) to Dawson and his dad. It's a good investment. It's right down the street from mom (I'm not sure if that's a good thing or bad, lol). The pictures don't do it justice... you don't think "trailer" when you see it, it's really beautifully redone and very spacious. And since it's the last spot in the park, the lot is amazing and huge and quite private.
And it's all ready to move into now. I was going to rent a uhaul this Sunday, and then I realized it's Father's day. I suppose I wouldn't be able to scour up much help on Father's day, most everyone probably has plans. I suppose I'll wait until the following Sunday. Hopefully I can get a few bodies to help me out.

Speaking of Father's day, I miss my dad. So much. This month is tough. It's Father's day month, and June marks the month of his rapid decline and his death. It's been four years this month. The month I received the phone call and the voicemail from him.. nothing but breathing and grunting... I called 911 and flew to the house to meet the ambulance... From EMMC, eventually to Brigham's in Mass, and then ultimately back to EMMC to die. I'm still so angry with him for drinking himself to death. And I miss him. So fucking much. June is tough.

As most of you have seen on facebook, I've had an opportunity to pick up a second job managing another bar up in Howland, in addition to managing the one I already do. They'd pretty much be willing to pay me whatever I ask for, including travel time, so I keep seeing dollar signs... But then again, I realize I would be working every day of my life. If I think I hardly ever see my son now, I'd definitely hardly ever see him if I took it. And there would be no doggy best friend for me. There'd be nothing but work. But that money, though...
I had a two and a half hour meeting with the owners this week. And for the first couple days afterwards, I was convinced I was going to take the job. I spent a few hours on a detailed management plan and a salary request. And then later in the week, I spent an evening at the new house, working around in the yard, watching the boy popping wheelies on the lawn... and then realized- these are the simple things I'll miss if I take this job. It was about that moment that I pretty much decided not to take the job.
I make a meager living, I barely get by. I would LOVE to not have to worry about bills, to have a little extra, for once. But I don't want that at the expense of losing what little time I have with my boy, or having a doggy friend, like I've wanted for so long, or spending time alone... basically, having extra money at the expense of losing the very few little things I do enjoy in this life. It was a very tough decision to make, but I think I've made it.

Speaking of jobs and bars... While "interviewing" with these owners, I realized something.,.. I'm a walking contradiction. I claim to hate people (especially drunk people), and I complain about this industry almost every day. And yet, I've been doing this for 15 years, and I'll do it until I'm too old to do it anymore. Because, I think I love it. At least, I love it where I am now, and I probably love it in general. Even though I also hate it. I love my little bar. And I love my regulars. I love my staff. I love my bosses. I hate it, and I love it. See? Walking contradiction.

I suppose I could start getting ready now. I've been up since 4:45. That's another thing I've been struggling with lately- waking at about 4:30 every day. Not sure why. Every day, for the past couple months. It's ridiculous. The new meds knock me out fairly early at night, usually by 10 at the absolute latest. Most times earlier, sometimes as early as 8:30. But this rising before the sun every day is getting old. I'm not one to go running or get a lot accomplished in the morning, so I'm mostly just bored.

But now I have to get ready. Heading to the dentist for the third time in two weeks. For the same damn tooth that just keeps breaking. It's mostly bonding now at this point. And it's one of the few I have left. I might as well just suck it up and get dentures. Nooooooooo!!!!

Anyway...

Be well.

Well, it's Wednesday. No, Monday. Wait, it's Tuesday. Yes, Tuesday.
As usual, without the boy here, it's awfully hard to keep track of the days.

I have seen him off and on over the weeks. Short visits at the new house, at a tennis match, dinners out, or picking him up super late at school after a tennis match up north. He's spent the night with me once in the last two months. It was Mother's day. I'm still trying to cope with this new situation, him wanting to be at his Dad's. As I've always said, I suspected eventually it would come. But I guess I always thought he'd still stay with me once in a while. But he hasn't, really. And it sucks. It sucks, bigtime. I guess I never thought I'd be doing the empty nest thing before he was even grown.

Yesterday I was working at the new place and just getting ready to leave when he texted me- Are you still there? Don't leave yet, I'm coming over. And so he showed up on the four wheeler and we hung out for a few minutes. He loves the new place. I've got all the curtains up, some furniture in place, and a lot of decorative stuff up. He says he can't wait to start staying there.
I can't wait, too. Although I am paid up here until the end of the month, and I love the lake, I am anxious to feel settled in. I've never been good with limbo. I'm going to try to get more serious about getting stuff over there over the next couple weeks, There's not a lot I can do by myself with my car, but I'm doing it. Little load by little load. I'll be renting a Uhaul, not this weekend, but next. I work every Saturday, so Sunday June 18th, if anyone is available to help lug stuff, I'd be forever grateful.

Last week my shrink upped my Latuda and added in Topomax. I hope for some relief. No, happiness is not a choice. Not for all of us. Sometimes (most times... all of the time), some of us can just be thankful to get through each day, hoping to wake up to something better. And then we don't wake to something better, so we just get through that next day, hope to wake to something better, again. And so on, and so on. Soon enough, the "hope to wake to something better" leaves us, and we just go on getting through. We don't enjoy life, we endure it. I can't explain depression any better. I don't have the words for it.  I'm so tired of "happiness is a choice". So fucking tired of it.
I'm anxiously awaiting my next high. I don't care if I shop away all of my savings, or buy a new car, or obsessively dive headlong into a new hobby, or write the manifesto, or do something else ridiculously stupid. I'd just like the manic back, please.

Although, I did ride along in a benefit ride this weekend. Instead of being a shut in. It was new and different, and something I wouldn't normally do. I actually enjoyed myself. Surrounded by people, some friends, some acquaintances, some I didn't know. It was fun being a part of something. Being involved. And in the end we all landed at my second home, the bar. It was nice seeing so many people come together for a cause. And it was nice to be a part of it. So often I feel like I don't belong, to anything, or anyone, or anywhere. In life, in general. But Sunday I felt like I belonged. To that group, to that day. I belonged in/to life. Involved. For just a day, enjoying, and not enduring.

Anyway...

I am anxious to get my new dog. The boy isn't quite as excited, though, lol.. I told him yesterday and his response was "oh lord", accompanied by a hand slap to the forehead. Although, with as little as he's with me, I guess it doesn't really matter. She'll be my companion, my co-pilot, my sleeping buddy, my walking partner (hopefully, as we could both stand to lose a few pounds, lol). As most of you have seen on facebook, she is a beauty. She's a lab/mastiff and she's super sweet. She belongs to a couple of friends of mine. They weren't actively looking for a home for her, but they have recently found their lives super, super busy, and they feel she isn't getting what she needs and deserves. And then they heard that I was looking for a new best friend. Coincidence? Maybe. I am honored that they would think of me, because they wouldn't let her go to just anyone, they weren't even sure they wanted to. But when they heard I was looking, they thought it might just be the perfect arrangement for everyone. And I think it just might be.
I had been thinking long and hard about the Great Dane that I was visiting with, and as much as I know she needs me, I had to be sure the dog was the right fit for me, too. As much as I'd love to help her (and her family), she wasn't right for me, and that made me not right for her.
I'm excited to bring Kaya home to the new place.

Anyway...

I've been getting the singing bug lately. It never goes away, really. I miss performing, I really do. But I guess I'm too old for that now. I'll just have to settle for "caraoke" :)  I've been using the Smule app lately to get my fix, and posting on facebook. I guess it's second best to performing for people live. Gives me a fix, at least a little bit. Here's one from YouTube. You can find all my others there, too, if you're bored.  :).

This week at work I complained about "please" and "thank you". Words that we all too often forget to use. In my line of work, we don't hear it all that often. I am guilty of forgetting, too.

There are the select few customers who will say either or both, almost all of the time. There are also customers who don't, but they order so politely, usually with a smile, that "please" and/or "thank you" are implied. And for all of those people, I am thankful.
And then there are the people who feel entitled to being served by their bartender... They order with a a tone and an attitude, and a look on their face that says- you should know what I want, you've served me so many times you should have it memorized and ready at the bar when I walk in, you're supposed to read my mind. Like- duh, yeah of course I want a bud light, Jeezus.

And for those people, I am not so thankful. Those are the people who make my job, and my day, a lot less tolerable. And sadly, it's not just strangers, it's often regulars. Folks, your bartender is a person, a working stiff just like you, with feelings, who deserves as much respect as any other person. Please remember that.

When the cashier asks me- "Did you find everything you were looking for today?" My response is (almost) always "yes I did, thank you". Try it out, it'll make their day, and it'll make you feel a little more human, too. 

Or maybe, when you order your next bud light, maybe say please, or thank you. Or at least order it without your self-righteous sense of entitlement. 

Ok, I suppose I have to go plank and pack. Neither of which I am looking forward to.

Be well. Please. *wink