The To-Don't List for 5770

Yeah, I know: it's (once again) been a while. But it has been an eventful while. First, I should let you know that all was well that ended well with the dreaded Electric Hemorrhoid Bridesmaid's Dress (tm). Even with the two hotel washcloths stuffed into the bodice after the failure of the adhesive bra (really just a fancy name for ineffective boob-shaped scotch tape), and the fact that I had lost more weight after the final fitting and thus, had way more space in the dress than I thought I'd need, the damn thing didn't look too bad. I submit a photo for your approval here:



Coming back from the wedding (which was wonderful!), however, and coming off a weekend of alcohol-soaked bliss (I put my car away in a Philadelphia parking lot on Thursday night and didn't retrieve it until hungover on Sunday), wasn't so much fun. On my way home that afternoon, I found myself undone by said hangover and an eye infection. Not to mention a tiny incident, which I won't detail here, which sent me into a relative tailspin with regard to a relationship that I once thought was stable and happy and good - it isn't, it wasn't, and it's not likely ever to be. That was enough to put me into meltdown mode, making me in fact wonder how many hours in one lifetime do I have to spend crying in the bathroom on the New Jersey Turnpike. (The Grover Cleveland Service Area, to be specific, seems to be my service area of choice in 2009.)

Little did I know that things were about to get worse. That Wednesday, I was told that my company was eliminating three positions. Mine would be one of them.

So, there I was, finally having achieved many of the things I've been struggling with for years: I'm down 68 pounds, stopped biting my nails, wrote a pretty damn good piece about an incident in my past which has been an issue for some time. There I was, feeling like I was finally me. Like a woman who could even look decent in a pink dress made for a 22 year old. Like I was going to be all right. Like I owned it. And then: G-d laughed.

Now, perhaps I'm overdramatizing the job loss. Certainly I know a lot of people who have been laid off, had their jobs eliminated, etc. But for so long, I really thought I was safe. I thought I was going to beat this recession. But I didn't. Now, I'm a statistic. A statistic who is moving back home with Mom.

After all these years, it's a huge bummer to lose my home - and all of the privileges that go with it. Like making myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at 1AM because I feel like it. Watching repeats of Family Guy before bed. Post-midnight phone conversations. And of course, the obvious freedom that comes with not living at home. I've been on my own for more than 17 years and it just feels like part of my life is over. Like I'm in mourning for my independence. To that end, my friend Todd recently asked me that if one is sitting shivah for their sex life, does that mean you cover the mirrors on your ceiling? I know none of it is forever, but it is depressing just the same.

Which leads me to where I am now - while I'm trying to focus on the positive (no rent check every month! getting unemployment! writing another book!) I just feel so angry and worthless and messed up that I don't really know what to do. Out for dinner last Thursday night, upon hearing a joke I realized that it had been so long since I had really laughed or smiled. I'm just mad all the time. Today, after a soon to be former colleague publicly treated me like crap - bascially ordering me to do admin work for her, and figuring she can because I'm no longer worth treating nicely - I heard myself wishing a slow painful death on her. Out loud. Really, this economic instability is a bad thing. I'm not quite sure whom I have become.

Given that we're less than a week out from the Jewish holidays, I think if my personal atonement is going to be worth anything, I have to be more conscious of just how horrid and unpleasant I am these days. I know I have limited patience, and limited resources, and there's a big part of me that just doesn't feel like being nice, and is tired of good things happening to rotten people. So in that vein, here are the things I am hoping I will stop doing, at least in the immediate term:


The To-Don't List

1. Stop wishing a slow and painful death on people I don't like. You know who you are. Besides, I always have books in which to kill them off.
2. Stop coveting Rock Band, the two Remastered Album collections, and all other Beatles products that are out of my budget right now: I'm only making myself miserable.
3. Stop being a bitch in committee meetings. No one wants to be there. Not just me.
4. Stop wishing in vain for a change of heart. Inertia is a cruel mistress.
5. Stop skipping my first dose of metformin. If I didn't need it, the doctor wouldn't have prescribed it.
6. Stop worrying about moving back home. Mom is cool and she loves me. Maybe I will even learn how to share space with someone. It'll be fine.
7. Stop feeling restricted by other people's expectations. Dude, I am almost 40. Old enough to know better.
8. Stop drinking Coke. Even though I'm only drinking it once a week. Metformin does NOT make it OK.
9. Stop wasting time on Facebook, Twitter, etc. I have another book to write. At least one.
10. Stop feeling so awful. Find yourself. Look outside at the sunlight. It is still a beautiful world, full of light and love and friends and chances. I am going to be OK.

Right?

A new year awaits. May we all be inscribed for a better one.

Shana tova u'metuka.