In my head

Lately I've been thinking a lot about life and death and love and work. Okay, let's get real here for a minute, I think about these things all the time, just lately it seems like I've had more cause to actually admit to thinking about them. I've come to some interesting conclusions. First I've realized that I am not afraid of my own death. I used to be, used to be terrified of it in fact. Now though I'm more concerned about what would happen to my pets if I were to die. I think this means I'm growing up and am peace with who I am and with my life. That's comforting.

I've also been thinking about death because a good friend of mine lost her mother. Another friend of mine has a close friend who may not make it to the end of the year. Death really puts things in perspective. My petty little complaints about my office being minus twelve degrees seem, well, petty. Death also serves to remind us to tell those we love how we feel because you never know when that person won't be around anymore for you to tell them. So I urge you all, all like two of you who will read this, tell your loved ones you love them. Tell your friends you care. Do it now, do it today, don't regret not doing it.

As for my thoughts about work, well, work is work and I hate feeling like work is work. I want to feel good about what I'm doing, and lately that feeling just hasn't been there for me. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I maybe don't respect my boss all that much. I have what is probably a superiority complex when it comes to her and that's probably bad. I consider myself a far better manager to my staff than she is to me (and compared to how she treats other members of her staff I have it great) and I don't feel like I'm learning things from her. Maybe we've just worked together for too long and so therefore I've seen her in more respects than just as my boss, I don't know. I'm need to figure out a way to make work work for me again so I don't go home feeling like I've wasted eight hours of my day five days a week.

Onto love. Here's where the lyrics come into play for this post. Our selection today is from the Rent soundtrack (shocking, I know!). The song is Today 4 U and the lyric is: Today for you, tomorrow for me.

I realized not so long ago that all of my relationships have followed this pattern to some extent. I have given up myself for the other person thinking I'll worry about me and my needs tomorrow. This is soooooo not good. There's a line between being selfless and losing yourself. I tend to lose myself. I did better this last time around (with Five Months of Happiness woman that is, who incidentally does have a name, but I don't believe in splashing her personal business all over the internet, especially without her permission and since getting her permission would require me actually hearing from her that might be hard since apparently "I still want you in my life as a friend, I can't imagine my life without you in it" means "you will hear from me maybe once a month if you're lucky").

I'm sure now that I've had this epiphany about how I lose myself I'll do even better still next time around. I mean for criminey's sake I moved to CT to be with Ms. Ex (she of the eight year relationship and the three week engagement). I gave up my happiness in NY, my friends there, my life there, to move to this state that was like a foreign country to me just to be with her. I think I knew pretty quickly after I got here that this was a mistake, but damn it I made a commitment and I was going to stick with it. And stick with it I did even though I was unhappy and probably depressed. Perhaps I am also a bit on the stubborn side? Must be the Aries in me.

Anyway, that leaves me with thinking about life. Life is a funny thing. So many lessons to be learned. So much to do and see and experience. I've been wondering if I'm living life to the fullest. But I took a step back from that question and asked myself "who's definition of fullest are we talking about here?" Are we talking about what others think you should be doing to really be "living" or are we talking about what MY definition of living is? Once I figured out that I had been basing my idea of living life to the fullest on what other people think I should be doing it was pretty easy to let go of that notion and realize that I love my life. I have a good life. I am an incredibly lucky person to have the kind of life I do. I am healthy. I am able to provide for myself. I own my own home. I have two wonderful cats and a silly little beagle who love me no matter what. I have family and friends who also love me no matter what. Who cares that I don't travel to Asia three times a year or that I don't have a summer home on the shore or a 70 inch plasma TV (although, hi, that would be awesome to watch movies on while I'm knitting). Those things won't answer the phone if you call them at three a.m. crying. They aren't there to greet you at the door when you come home from a long day at work. They don't matter in the long run. What matters is that I love myself and my life and some day soon I will meet a woman who loves me for me (okay so I've already met one of those, this time I mean I'll meet one that won't freak out on me because the relationship is getting serious).

These are the things that have been running through my mind lately. Perhaps now that I'm feeling a little more chipper my next post will be about the Song Quoting Incident of 2008. I'll leave you by saying I am discovering that I am perhaps a little bit less than sane at certain times of the month.