The Biggest Looser Is Me

I am finding Bailey a new home.
For real this time, I've put up ads for her on both my work/staff blogs and my trainer has put her on their facebook page. I've got coworkers asking their spouse's coworkers and friends asking friends. It won't happen overnight, but Bailey won't be my dog for much longer.

The back story: the dogs got into a fight while they were being boarded at the trainers a few weeks ago. Bailey got anxious and started a fight with Jules, but they were separated and no one got hurt. Then Jules attacked Bailey 5 more times, and on that 5th time Bailey bit and stubborn little dog that wouldn't stop attacking went to the vet again. (She's healed fine now)  Mike has reached his breaking point. To make a long story short: Bailey and Jules don't get along 100% of the time. (Just Bailey and Jules, Bailey has played well with others) But when you combine the potential of a fight somewhere in the future with his always been a little scared of Bailey...she has to leave me. And I just can't fight for her anymore, I'm so tired. I'm tired of my husband being scared of my dog. I'm tired of him bringing up every single one of Bailey's past incidents as if I didn't know how he feels. I'm tired of the horrified looks if I say anything less than favorable about Jules when my feelings have been so deeply hurt over Bailey and on a constant basis. I'm tired of living in fear that I am going to lose her. I have fought tooth and nail for my dog, and I just can't do it anymore. I'm so sorry Bailey that I've failed you and it is absolutely breaking my heart.

My dog is not worth my marriage, but me giving her up is an enormous sacrifice. It's not fair but no matter what I lose. I still give up Bailey who I fiercely vowed to never let go again. If I make my husband give Jules away he resents and hate me. (I'm already resented for even thinking about it in the first place.) I didn't have to try to think of Jules as my own, and I wanted to love her as much as I love Bailey. She's likable and my heart grew to fit her next to Bailey. But now... because those 2 can't get along all the time, that dog has broken my heart and left an emptiness she'll never be able to fill. I don't hate Jules, though part of me wants to out of loyalty to Bailey. But I don't have to love her anymore either. She's just a dog that I have to live with now. I know when Bailey finds her new family she's going to be just fine. She may even forget me in time, though I'll never be able to forget her. Bailey's life will carry on and be great and that's what matters. Giving up a pet is a hard choice no matter who you are. But I wish I didn't have to be the biggest looser of everyone.

matter

Yesterday I tried to enroll in a health care plan through work, but my employee number and name didn't bring up any records.  Which is odd and I talked to HR about it since my window for enrollment is still open.  But at the time, I felt like I didn't count with them I guess, and that the last few months have been nothing to them.  Because that was an unproductive portion of my day, in a cart before the horse move, I started to fill out my fasfa just in case I start school next semester. (Hey, wouldn't it be hysterical if I receive financial aid but don't get into grad school? A fcking laugh riot I bet!), but before I could file it, there was a discrepancy between the number of dependents and members living in my house hold.  I claimed that I am single/never married, because I am, but there are 2 of us living in my household.  Which is true, it's dr soc's house and I just live there.  But I guess the government doesn't understand that an "independent student" can still be dependent on other people.  So I had to list that there was no one else in my household.  

And that for some reason, really stung.  My ego was already bruised from applying for a job earlier in the day that I know I'm not really qualified for. My employee info not coming up for health insurance made me feel like I don't belong.  And now I have to say I don't have anyone at home with me.

I just felt like I really don't matter.  And that's a depressing place to go.

Taking Chances

A few months ago, there were no library positions that I was qualified for of any sort close to me.  But by some magic of timing, 5 different library positions became available between 3 different systems. None of them required the MLS, and one was even full time, which is what I really, really want and need. So of course I applied.  (My library basket if pretty full at the moment.  Besides applying for those positions, I'm waiting to hear back from grad school. Don't ask me about it. I've applied and I'm waiting on pins and needles to know if I was accepted or not. The only way I feel about right now is anxious.)
The good news is that I landed an interview for one of the part time jobs and I was ecstatic. I thought the interview went really well and you can tell that I am completely qualified, and I'm passionate about the work. But in 3 days I received the thanks but no thanks email. I'm glad they let me know soon, even though it wasn't the answer I wanted.  And there was still some hope that one of the other positions might happen.

Yesterday I received and email from the full time position informing me that I had not been selected for an interview.  They appreciate my interest and encourage me to continue looking for employment with them that interests me.  Except that is the position that interests me and that I'm most qualified for.  I've interviewed with them before twice for positions that I really didn't know what I would be doing.  Obviously I didn't get them, but I was still at least qualified for an interview.

Mike keeps trying to tell me that it's not a reflection of my abilities and qualifications, and that I shouldn't take this to heart.  But try not to do that.  I am still waiting on some things, but it's hard to not get discouraged about everything.  I do have a part time job right now and I'm grateful for that.  But I'm still bummed about not getting the job I interviewed for.  But I'm even more disappointed about the full time job.  Because they didn't even give me a chance. 

When Help Isn't Help

I got on the elevator at work with a few people and one of the guys in there ask me:
"How'd you do on that test?"
me: "I failed." (in a sickeningly sweet voice)
Dude: Now, you sound a little too happy about that! What do you mea
Me interrupting: "OK, the reason I sound that chipper is becasue if I'm not chipper I will start to cry and break down and I don't want to do that this instant. And I really really really don't want to talk about it so please just STOP. Just stop!"

Having successfully made the elevator uncomfortable, the doors open and I get off first. I set my quivering lip and manage a watery smile in 20 feet. In 10 minutes when I'm back in my department, my hands have steadied and I continue on as if I'm fine.

This is the same guy that whenever see's me studying, interrupts to complement me on studying. That doesn't help. At all. When I'm truthful and say I'm not doing well hence why I'm studying, I get to hear his life story. And I don't care that you dropped out of school 3 times and then went on to get a thousand different degrees in your 40's. I know in his own way he is trying to make me feel better. But I don't want to hear your success story. Because I want my own success story, and not having one just makes me want to cry.

That Guy

Default crush and I made out once, way before he was default crush. We were both just out of long relationships and just very sad. So I told him to kiss me goodnight. He obliged, and it escalated to a high school make out session, but nothing more. And then the next morning, he sent a text apologizing and said it would never happen again. And it didn't.

Until a few weeks ago that is. Because as we know, he became default crush and put out after I threw myself at him.

But now, he won't talk to me. And while that hurts, I'm more upset over loosing my friend. But what I'm confused about is when we kissed he apologized the next day. We sleep together and he ignores me completely. I didn't think he was that guy. I think that's what disappoints me the most. And that I was stupid enough to not realize it until after the fact.

Maybe

Six months ago there was an ultimatum. I originally gave him 6 months to decide between me and (what I think is) a future in Lexington, or life as is in Cincinnati-without me. And that was just to decide, he wanted at least another 6 months after the choice to tie up loose ends (aka, get 300 "last shows" in) if he picked me. I honestly don't know who/what he would have chosen. And it makes me sad I don't know. Not the decision itself, but that I was unsure of what he would do. To save us both a lot of wish-washing, I took the ultimatum off the table and ended the relationship for good, just shy a month the start of the "break." He probably hadn't even thought about anything yet. And since I told him he didn't have to make a choice anymore, I know he never thought about it again.

And while I say I don't know what he would have picked, I think I do know, and it wouldn't have been me. I think he knows that too. Of course I could be over estimating him there. I think he wants to believe that he would have picked me and I didn't give him a chance to prove it. But even if he had moved here, as my friend point out, the relationship was going to be full of resentfulness from one side or the other. Mine if we were in Cincinnati, his if we were in Lexington.

Even though I know the end result, I wonder if I made that final call too quickly. Maybe we could have lived happily ever after together. I do know he's never going to leave Cincinnati. I know he's never going to be the rock star he thinks he'll be. And I hope he never gets someone as good as me ever again. I still love him, but not as much, and maybe a part of me always will. Maybe one day I'll truly wish him well (because I so don't right now). But I don't think I made the wrong call, even if it was a bit fast. There were just too many maybes for my comfort. Maybe, just maybe, he'll never get another girlfriend or marry and pine for me forever. It's petty, but that's a maybe I'm willing to hold on to.

Boo to today

I feel like ass today. My nose is runny, my throat is raw from the runny, and the sneezing isn't doing anything except annoying the f*ck out of me. More bitching:

I went for a long run today, and it was a horrible run. No matter what direction I faced, I was running into really strong wind. And wind may not sound like a big deal, but it took me over an hour to run 4 miles. That's really slow, like retard child slow (I so don't care how un-pc that is). On top of the R.C. pace, I slipped on the one patch of black ice that hadn't melted. I caught myself, but I came down really hard on my palm and bruised it pretty bad. But there's no telltale purple discoloration, nope it looks perfectly fine but I can't even pet the dog w/out wincing.

Because it took fo- ev- er to run, I didn't have time to stretch before I had to shower for work. Does a scalding hot shower substitute for a good stretch? Nope, and I'm paying for that tomorrow when I can't walk. Because I'm already in a self loathing place, I gave myself a once over look before I left. And my suspicions are confirmed, I look and feel like a bloated whale in the most unflattering jeans I own (why do I still have those now I wonder?) It's like a rotten cherry on top.

I should be searching for articles/doing homework, but that's all I did this weekend. And I just don't want to read/write/study anything else. So I'm blogging instead.

Boo to today. I'm going to bed.

Crow

When the cover us US Weekly or OK! was "inside Jennifer Love Hewitt's heartache" (or something like that), I didn't snatch it up and pour over every detail like I typically do with trashy gossip rags. My first reaction was, poor thing, I know how bad she feels. I used to not feel sorry for stars and blink and you miss them break ups. With looks, fame, oodles of money, it seems fair (and typical) that they falter in the love department right?

Well, I'm eating a little crow here, and I'll admit that. When I was in my breakup process, I walked home from work tears streaming down my face. I cried publicly in restaurants. I had to excuse myself at work a few time to collect myself. When I stopped wearing the ring, there wasn't an US weekly cover shot of my bare finger. And the details of the date, my dress, the church and everything else, were mine and not tabloid fodder. I got to make the announcement and tell people when I was(n't) ready. I didn't have to tell my publicist or ask everyone to please respect my privacy. Because my friends knew when I wanted to talk, I would. And my pain, while very public, could still be very private when I needed it to be.

So I don't feel smug about her break up. Because it hurts, no matter who you are. Stars just have to do it in a fishbowl.

I just want the dog

I need to stop looking at the daily puppy every day. It just makes me miss my dog. I really, really miss my puppy. I didn't know it would be so hard to let her go when I gave her up in the break up. She was actually one of the main reasons I even tried to make it work with my ex. I couldn't leave her. But one of the stipulations of moving home was no doggie. So with a heavy heart, I hugged her one last time, received my kisses and walked away crying.

But I truly underestimated how wretched it would be. I've halfheartedly pleaded with my parents. I've promised to walk her and feed her and take care of her like any other child who wants a dog. I point out how great a space heater she is. I lavish affection on every dog I see. But it's just not the same, it's not my dog. I could try to make it on my own, get a pet friendly place and then fight with the ex on getting her back. But I don't need create any more drama that's taken place. So I have two grown up solutions here:
Get my own place and get the dog back. Or accept that I no longer have a dog.
I've chosen the latter becasue I know it's the best for the long run. I'm going to try to balance school and work full time, I don't need to add a spaz dog I can't really take care of into the mix. And my no rent plus great support system is a very cushy deal (thanks mom and dad!) and I'd be a fool to pass it up. I can adopt another dog in few years if I still want one when I venture out into grow-up land. But I'm still really bummed about giving her up.

Big sigh

I'm annoyingly good. I'm far from pristine, but still, annoyingly good. My slate is smeared with life experiences, but none of them involve me going to jail or being in trouble. I (usually) know when to toe the line, I've crossed it a few times, and I'll hit bellow the belt if the outcome is advantageous to me. I may have pushed the envelope a few times as a teen, but I never opened it. And it's not just me, all of my friends have done the exact same thing. College and high school, (most) of us we're really good kids (at least, that's what they lead me to believe), and we've grown up to be responsible adults.
So I've done everything "right" it seems. And I know that I don't have a bad lot in life. Far from bad. I have my health, a roof over my head, a job, and a ton of people who love and support me. And I'm going back to school and getting a career. Poor, poor me.
So why am I the one hurting and not him? It doesn't seem fair. I want to stamp my foot and scream, what the hell did I do wrong to deserve these miserable feelings? Why am I the one crying my eyes out because I'm starting down a better path? Why am I the one starting over? Again. Why do I feel like I lost everything, when in reality, I have so much more too look forward to now? I'm trying to see the big picture, my over all lot in life is not bad and I'm being child focusing on this one part. But my perception's a bit warped, sometimes I don't have the energy to see past the broken heart. And then I get frustrated because I know I should move on. But if I know once I do, that means it's really over doesn't it. And I'm still kind of foolishly hoping he's coming after me. One of these days-and maybe here soon- I'll move on and I won't have sad blogs. But I'm still grieving. Sigh, poor poor me and my terrible lot in life.