Resolved

I realize that that last post had a bit of a negative vibe. And as I re-read it, I consider that while I have felt some frustrations over the past few days, I really have nothing to complain about. My life is pretty charmed right now. The depression is at bay, and while I recognize that it will continue to ebb and flow throughout the rest of my life, it will never again come to the extreme that it was. I have the skills to deal with it now. I know the triggers that set it off and I know the people I can call for help. There are people around me that are facing so much more than a frustrating work environment, I feel a little guilty at even complaining. I get to live a pretty selfish existence, I don't even have a church calling right now (for the first time since I was 12 years old.) So please, take the moans and groans with a grain of salt.

That's not to say that you won't read my complaints again, because frankly, I am a selfish creature, and if I want to moan about something, then I will find a place to moan about it, and this whole writing thing is becoming therapeutic. And on that note, here is a moan or two from my present frame of mind:

• I want a day off. I haven't taken a real day off since I moved here, and so I am about to hit month #3 without so much as a sick day.
• This is the first year that I am actually expected to dress up for Halloween, and this is the first year that I have absolutely no desire to.
• My birthday is coming up, and I am too old to want to celebrate it with a party, but I don't want to sit at home watching tv that night. Last year represented one of the worst birthdays of my life, and I am not going to re-live that alone-in-front-of-the-tv-watching-home-improvement-re-runs evening. So who wants to go to dinner? anyone? The only condition is that there is to be NO restaurant birthday song. I hate those. Everybody hates those. Why do we feel the need to embarrass our friends under the guise of "celebrating"?
• Have you seen the cakewreck blog? I want a birthday cake that says "I want Sprinkles", it's the 4-year old screaming inside of me, and I won't let the 4 year old have a party. But I will let her have cake. With sprinkles. Lots of them.
• I really don't like my job anymore, and I need to figure out if I should switch now or let them pay my tuition for a while and go to night school. I know what a responsible grownup would do, and I have no desire to be called a responsible grown up. Even if I do have a retirement plan.

There you have it, my woes. They are pretty trite aren't they? Go ahead, slap me and tell me that there are children starving in Africa, that there are homeless families wandering the streets of America, that somewhere someone is mourning or weeping. But somewhere else, Paris Hilton can't afford a new diamond-tiara for her latest insipient little rat-dog-in-a-prada-purse, and she is throwing a much more royal tantrum than me. Plus, I'll get over it.