unexpected inspirations

note to self, go here often and be totally delighted frequently...
http://www.williamhundley.com/index.php?/projects/entoptic-phenomena/

There's a first for everything...

I'm lying in (Tom's) bed after midnight on Friday... I've been home with the dogs since about 3:30, which has been nice, but the epic and exquisitely quiet evening has consisted only of the sounds of my fingers on the keyboard, the scritch of my nails on the dogs' sleek coats, an episode of an old Gilmore Girls turned down very low, and now some kind of oddly comforting periodic clicking noise coming from a lamp in Tom's room.

Fridays are braindead days and I should know better than listen to my thoughts, but in such a long, quiet period of thinking tonight, where I've seen almost no one other than my co-workers and the pooches except for Kelly when she stopped by to get Emma earlier... it's hard not to listen too much. And my head is so scrambled and upside down.

I foolishly thought that the review might be the climax of my week, since they can be intense and sometimes draining, and occasionally they can even (momentarily, but brutally) seem to ruin the very, very hard work of almost a year's worth of effort on a project that people... specific people... tell you (on a whim) (a whim! based on what they had for lunch, and what the person next to them just said... literally...A WHIM!... how curious) to change everything, just because that's how they feel and that's what would sound important if they said it.

I was really cringing in preparation for the review, but confident in my work and my team, and I've done so many of these now that I know how to make the best that I can out of the criticism, which is good... and hell, sometimes you luck out and get criticism that's super constructive, that gets your wheels turning and makes you feel like this product is going to be truly solid, with the whole company backing it. And wheee!

The meeting was alright. Not my worst, maybe not my best, but it didn't end in despair and I felt like if I somehow added more coffee the next few weeks and found an extra 8 hrs to sleep at some point, I might find the cunning resources to sneak the things in that truly need to happen without causing a ruckus.

Everyone who thinks they've got it made, take two steps forward! Not so fast, Jane Kathryn...

Ironically, after mentally preparing myself for the meeting on Weds, it was a spontaneous, casual and brief meeting on Thursday that ruined everything. A quick word with the boss about something that's been causing huge anxiety and frustration for me since I've worked with him, but said completely kindly and briefly and putting every "I" statement to use to simply say that our communication might be improved if we could both do one thing, and because speaking in company meetings is something that can be nerve-wracking for me, this would greatly improve my work environment.

I would've had a more favorable discussion if I'd told Napoleon that he was a nice guy, but I wasn't sure that a short man would be capable of suiting my needs.


The next 5 hours of my life were quite honestly 5 hours that I might remember until I'm an old lady. The way my boss descended into a defensive, insecure, blisteringly sarcastic, angry, hot mess was like watching something on a nature program where you hold the remote control in mid air, incapable of changing the channel due to the profoundly awkward, yet primal, situation that's unfolding around the watering hole. Not with the mighty lions fighting for the lioness, but in this case, one of the bizarre, scraggly, hyena-esque animals that has to wait until one of the lions has been fed before he can try to get his chance to drink, and then his display of alpha behavior is so grossly exaggerated and inappropriate that you wonder how he lived long enough to become an adult.

This all sounds cruel and exaggerated, but I want to REMEMBER, not guess, years from now, that I am looking my future self in the face and saying... remember the meetings this man dragged you through in his office a few years ago and tore you down as a person-- not an employee-- but as a person, to temper his sniveling fits? Remember when he put his finger in your cheek and called you an arrogant bitch in his fury that someone had just told him to fire someone (me) that he didn't want to fire because he had absolutely no reason to? Well you're THAT MAD about this one too, future self, and in fact you're probably MORE mad if that's possible in any way, shape or form because this time, you're already onto this guy and you aren't shocked that he'd act this way.

And this time, because you're desensitized to it, you can sit back and watch as his hands begin to shake, how his Adam's apple fights against the new shirt-collar that's under the new sweater-vest and how some of the gel or oil or whatever's in his hair has created a spot on the collar of his shirt back by the nape of his neck. This time, you can completely observe without the blind shock of having someone unexpectedly cross every professional and social boundary by flipping out at you for no reason and continue in such an exaggerated and heated display that even trying to retell an abbreviated version of the story to someone later will require at least 15-20 minutes. At LEAST.

Oh, this man. This little insecure dweeb of a man who has clawed his way to the top and battled with those who have also clawed their way to the top, and now-- even more significant than the man who sat next to me yelling 3 years ago-- he has no one more powerful than him, so he feels even more entitled to say things behind closed doors that are in No. Way. appropriate for work, or friendships or family relationships or any other kind of human interaction. It's just crazy, is what it is. Someone at work recently described him as a maniac, and they're right. He's a tightly wound, Napoleonic, egotistical, trembling little wombat of a man, and he is in charge of my company.

And god damnit. I'm tired of bullies.

The Sound and the Fury of this epic battle with this little cave guano was some kind of significant breaking point for me. When he jumped out of his little CEO rolling chair yelling at me about something so ABSURDLY untrue and unfair and downright cruel, I felt a physical cracking sensation of all of my patience and frustration and intentional self-distraction just snap somewhere deep in my spine. I had a sudden vision of my entire back being constructed of straw, and all of the vertical pieces that were bound along my spine, the strongest of the straw, gave way and released a thousand dry molecules of dust and straw residue and anger into the air.

I walked out of his office with a trembling but fiercely contained demeanor-- so tight-lipped that air could not pass through-- I let him play whatever game he was playing, but I know that he saw the blood boiling in my veins, the fierce and unapologetic anger in my eyes, and he must've seen the deep red lines that formed from my neck all the way across my chest. I dont' think I've ever flushed that deep red before and I can't believe that he-- and that meaningless day of all things-- were the culprits for anger that physical and intense.

I walked out of his office silent and proud, and I walked straight to my desk with hands shaking so badly that it hurt to try to steady them by my sides. I drove home, the longest drive I've had in a long time, and as soon as my key turned in the doorknob I fell apart-- the straw broke down my sternum, across my ribs, it broke in my arms and in my pelvis and in the tops of my legs, and I fell into my mattress with more weight than I've felt in years. I cried and seethed and lay there, totally dead weight, for almost 10 minutes... feeling like I had so much anger that I didn't even know how to physically get it out. Crying wasn't doing anything, and there wasn't anything I could've done to stop those sobs from leaving my chest.

I even called my parents. My mom had helped me think of positive ways to talk to him, and so at least she knew what I was talking about and how absurdly inappropriate he had been, considering the small thing I'd said to him. My father answered the phone by telling me he was about to complete the matter of his will and testament, and how complicated things were going to be with his Name, capital N, for me, and god forbid if something happened to me and if I don't have kids, there's nowhere for his legacy to go.
Oh god. Poor dad, poor dad with his innocent sentence and the gurgled sobs he was greeted with in response.

The typical situation here would be for my dad to try to say something supportive but to obviously be surprised and a little freaked out to talk to me... and end up saying something along the lines of me obviously not doing something well enough in this situation. But he didn't. He softly asked what was wrong and, for maybe the first time ever, I was able to say it so perfectly:
"I'm being bullied at work, dad. Intensely bullied, by two people, every day. And I'm fucking sick and tired of it and I just wanted to call you."

I don't know what he said, but it was soft and gentle and unbelievably supportive. He knew instantly what I was talking about and didn't ask any more questions. He knew exactly how I felt and although his anger probably matched mine-- I get my insanely protective gene from someone-- he just was THERE for me. And with everything dad and I have gone through with his health and job stress in the past two years, and the demise of every conversation we've tried to have, it was the most perfect moment I've had with my dad in a long, long time. 24 hrs later, I still feel totally calmed and empowered and comforted by that one moment I had with my dad.

The amazing thing was that I was able to return to work-- bloodshot eyes and a blotchy face, but to the best of my ability-- within 30 minutes of leaving InJoy's parking lot. So given labor laws, those 30 minutes counted as my 2 paid fifteen minute breaks, and I got to add that time to my timesheet as "general time." TAKE THAT, corporate America! I just had a life moment on YOUR clock! haha. suckers.

Last night, the dogs slept for the first time, and even when Peter called from Chicago in the pouring rain after midnight, I was able to groggily have a conversation with him about 5 songs, and missing Tom, and my asshole boss, and the guinea pigs that I literally almost called the cops about because I thought they were a burglar breaking into the house. Fell back asleep, dreamed flat dreams, and woke up at 7 feeling exhausted but totally free and bolstered. Free that I was truly so much better than the creep who abused his power to make me feel small. Free from needing validation and authoritative figures to like me, like the old me would've needed (the old, 3 years ago me). Free from worrying about where my life was going right this second, and free from the daily heart-twisting worry that my relationship with my parents is stressing me out because it's too entangled with hurt and snippiness and miscommunication.

I felt amazing.
I went upstairs and danced with all 3 of the hounds in the kitchen in my pajamas, hair sticking up everywhere, a huge smile on my face and the calmest feeling in my body.

As with anything... a burst of joy, a hot shower, several whiskey drinks in a row... the extremely warm embers can often cool quickly, and returning to work and The Troll and even more lectures and tedious, achingly tedious tasks ahead of me wasn't a total joy. I rode the wave until tonight, when reality started settling back in and I realized that I do... very truly... very hold-myself-accountable this time... need a new job, because I'm extremely unhappy at my current one. And I'm really, really sick and tired of being unhappy.
So Friday night was spent on the couch trying to do freelance work, but mostly sitting in complete silence looking at the dogs, being lost in extremely deep thought, facebook chatting about work and then with Meghan in Chicago, where it's pouring rain, where Tom and Peter and my Peter and Melissa and Beth and Dave and Kerry and Anna and many more of my dear people are being drenched in endless rain.

I'm doing something I've never done before-- I'm being pathetic and sleeping with one of Tom's shirts. I'm extremely lonely tonight without him and being in his home without him makes it even worse. I'm so sad for him that today must've been sad and difficult and scary, if it's anything like what I've experienced in the past when losing a family member. My heart hurts for him and yet his voice was so warm and sincere and quiet on the phone the couple times he called, he really has a beautiful way of describing things concisely. A skill that I lack, to say the least, and yet another crossword puzzle moment of 'wait, why are you with ME, again?'

God, I'm feeling lost, though. Freaked out that my life needs to change or I may not be able to shirk off the deeply anxious feelings that have been following me like a swarm of bees.

This shirt smells like him and it made me tear up when I saw it because even his shirt looks like him... it's like it maintained the lines of his shoulders even when it's folded up. So I'll be creepy and sleep with his shirt tonight and wait it out, just a few more days before I'll (hopefully) feel more energized and be laughing off the Incident and be inspired to find more beauty and less mirth in my daily activities.

It WAS amazing to find these beauties as I was crawling into bed. I guess the photographer has people curl up in fabric and just leap. They *really* speak to me... I mean, they completely fit in some part of my brain that wants to be amazed and delighted and not even think-- just feel this blobby but ethereal whomp of color and motion and total stillness.

AUUUUUGHHHHHHH, she screamed into the unnamed void... AUUUUUUUUGHHHH...yelled the dust speck.

I need to find a way to be creative with my current life. I will not make it if I don't. I cannot exist on this earth without having an outlet to be creative and academic and witty and without-all-the-answers on a very deep level.


I just want to express myself like this so badly...

I'm so glad to have found these. They are the most lovely thing to look at while curled in a blanket at the end of an extremely trying week...

I will accept my lack of and currently frustrated relationship with words tonight, and instead I will illustrate about a thousand thoughts and emotions that are pouring through my veins with this, which sums it up effortlessly and beautifully and so deeply that if I had any tears left, I might spare one just for this: