There are certain songs that on some primitive level make people react emotionally. I remember that my friend Grady used to spontaneously come to tears when that club song by Sonique would play… you know that one I mean, right? I can't remember the name. "Makes me feel so HIGH…"…? She didn't even know the lyrics. It was the combination of notes. The key. It just made her throat close up and tears come to her eyes.

Anyway, I do that with Sun Kil Moon's "Carry Me Ohio".

It came on in the bar, and I was incapable of conversation for a bit. It is just the sound of his voice and the key or something. But it gets me every time.

My throat closes.

And there is another that I saw on Pitchfork ages ago that I can no longer find on their website, but had to look up on YouTube. I guess her label did not end up releasing her album. It was over-produced and generally not cool, but when I heard this song a couple years ago I thought she sounded so heartbeaking and Dolly Parton-ish. Anyway, when I hear it the lyrics make me think of my grandmother, and how she tortured my grandfather with the memory of her dead war-time husband before him. And how she was never satisfied.

But also  just like it. I guess if it keeps coming to mind after 2 years it has something. Fuck my indie cred. Anyway, I only found it only because of Pitchfork. BPffft.

I really need to pull my shit together.

I am chronically tired. I have been terrible about taking care of myself. I am not getting enough sleep. I’ve had this damn cough for a month (though it is much much better). I am not exercising. I barely remember to wash my face or brush my teeth at night.

I feel like I do not have enough time with my husband. I thought I would like him working on Friday and Saturday nights but I don’t (I mean, the money is nice, but that’s about it). It means he isn’t free on nights I am free, and then because he comes home at 5 he sleeps all day so I don’t see him then either. And it means I can’t work on our bedroom, which is the last room to be unpacked and organized because I don’t want to bother him. I liked our routine so much better in Boston.

I haven’t taken many photos and I have not practiced my painting. Or knitting. Or anything I enjoy doing really. Except cooking – I have made some awesome stocks the past couple days with our new pressure cooker, so that’s good.

Yesterday at work I started feeling panicky. Like really having a hard time breathing and getting tunnel vision. I managed a line about a doctor appointment and headed home early. I really was not sure I was going to make it though. I probably should not have been driving. But I also really cannot let how I am feeling now effect my professionalism, and it did yesterday. I came home and had a cry in David’s neck and made a pork stock with some old bones we had and I felt a bit more grounded.

I’m sorry I’m being a complainer. I know this is ALL stuff within my control so I really don’t deserve any sympathy. I know I do better with a routine and regular exercise and doing something creative and I have not just sat down and figured out what that routine should be. I haven’t had much time to myself. I love the girls but I am not sure I like being a parent. I love my husband but sometimes it is hard to be a wife.

Work has been sort of so-so the past couple of weeks as well. I really like my new job, but I am sort of straddling my old & new positions until they get someone new in, and that makes it hard to feel I am fully present and thorough in either one. It won’t be much longer, so I am not stressed about it. It is just sort of adding to the low-self-esteem malaise.

All this means I have pretty much decided to not partake in Thanksgiving. I need some space. Desperately. I will really miss being with David, but we were going to spend Thanksgiving separate anyway. My mom is going to be upset. She said the other day “I really wish you wouldn’t because that’s the only day of the year we all [meaning her brother & my aunt & cousins] get together.” But you know what? We all live in the same damn place. We could all see each other a lot more if anyone cared enough to put the effort into it, but they don’t. And the last time I tried I got yelled at by my sister. My sister & cousin blew off David’s birthday party the other day. They could have stopped by, but they didn’t. So I’m not going to Thanksgiving. Fuck it. They can make their own damn turkey.

David’s family gets together every week. Maybe not everyone, but whoever can knows there is a standing invitation. We can’t always go, but we try for once a month. I have never seen anyone yell or fight at these family shindigs. I’m not naive; I know all families have their fights. But it certainly seems it is less of the norm for his. Simmering tension has been the theme of every family function I can remember since my grandparents’ health started disintegrating and my mom went through menopause. Christ. What a fun decade it has been. Blech.

Oh and someone stole 1200 dollars out of my bank account (I got it right back from the bank, but STILL). I am seriously hating people right now.

So there it is. 2007 still is the worst year ever, but October & November 2008 are two of the worst months I have ever had. I’m actually ready for some Christmas cheer because it means this month will be over.