kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Giving Thanks Whew. I suppose there are worse ways to spend Thanksgiving day than disco dancing with your boyfriend�s mother, four sisters, little brother, niece, aunt and uncle, and cousins. Course, the flight to Vermont the next morning was a little harrowing. It was C�s cousins� first Thanksgiving at his house and despite much Martha Stewart-like planning we didn�t actually sit down to eat until around 11pm. When you show up at 3pm and start with bloody marys to take the edge off, and then move to wine � well, it gets a little ugly. Welcome to the big Italian family Kiwi. Can�t wait for Christmas. Note to self: bring Advil and big gallon of water for next morning. And then Vermont. Showed up in usual Vermont mode (stressed out, anxiety ridden � with the lovely addition of raging hangover). I�m not sure why being home makes me such a wreck. Maybe it�s that I begin to feel overwhelmed by everything. Normal everyday things seem too much to handle. Maybe it�s all the food that I can�t seem to stop stuffing in my face. Maybe it�s that I�m an anal control freak and having my schedule disrupted in any way throws me for a loop. Maybe it�s the incongruence with who I want to be, who I was, and who I am now (I always spend the flight home questioning everything in my life, making lists, and vowing to eat fewer carbohydrates). Maybe it�s the responsibility I feel for my mom, and the knowledge that I�m not doing enough. Maybe it�s running into my psychotic ex-boyfriend who has scarred my psyche in ways I am only now (Four? Five?) years later realizing. Or maybe I�m just a big baby. I don�t know. But now I�m home. C. is at the Rangers game, and I just scrubbed the apartment from top to bottom, answered my emails, paid my bills, and balanced my checkbook. Feeling much better. Much more in control. Still have more work than I know what to do with (freelance and real �grown up job�). I think I need a life coach. Someone to help me juggle and do all I want and need to do while still remaining relatively insane. Then again, the thought of paying someone to tell me to do things I already know I should do seems ridiculous when my mother/boyfriend/best friend do this for free and I resent the hell out of them for it. Go figure. 7:45 p.m. - 2001-11-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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