LOSING COLOR

This was something I wrote years ago after my accident. Odd ramblings of a discordant mind. I was in a terrible state, my body fragile and my mind struggled against the pressure of breaking completely. Helplessness is a terrible feeling and that period brought back memories, that I don't like to dwell on too often. I no longer feel this way (almost never feel this way) but I wanted to post it anyway.

BRAIN FRY/ SKULL MELTDOWN

Well it's official,

I am in danger of the new job sucking out
the few brain cells I have left in my skull.

I'm not sure how it happened, but nothing
seems to work like it does in training.
And I've yet to come across a single problem
we went over in training.

I don't know. My last job, everything we were
taught we applied. I mean odd situations came up
but I felt better equipped, and more able to deal
with the unplanned, WTF situations then, than I do now.

Maybe it's from having been out of the job market for
so long.

Maybe it's trying to get what's solely been a writer's brain,
for four years to function in a solely technical aspect. Trying to
shut off for 7-8 hours a day the part of me that's had 24 hour reign.

Or maybe I'm just not as smart as I think I am.

Nah ... I'm brilliant.

Work is stupid. Ugh.

Ah well, we'll see. What doesn't kill us, right?

It's days like these I wish I were a normal person.

Things That Make Me Go Hmh...

Or make me feel uncomfortable.

Like discovering new things about myself that
veer away from social norms ... and fall into
taboo. It's not like there isn't enough in my life
that the Exclusive RIGHT point fingers at.

Like my skin color. Like my being a lesbian.

But now there has to be all this other stuff that,
even some of those among the non-Exclusive

right tend to arch brows at.

Self-Discovery sucks.

BIRTHDAY GIRL

So today is my life partner's or S.O.'s
Birthday.

SweetGirl's special day.

And you know what?

I consider this my special day too.

The day she was born.

I thank the universe for it.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY!!!!!

Friendly Coercion

CONSTANT MOTION

Our LIVES are in constant motion.

Even when we sleep, we are never truly still. Bodies shifting, stretching, twitching, and in our dreams we live other lives and in alternate universes pieced from fragmented information our subconscious minds have processed through filters.

Worlds filled with things we ourselves never consciously recognized. Motion. Motion.

My life has been one of nonstop motion; my mind taking in new information and processing so much new data and the stress of the new and unfamiliar has left what little sleep I tend to get even that less restful.

Funny how changes, even those for the positive can effect us so negatively in the beginning. I've posted sporadically to all of my blogs. And filling somewhat guilty for having not posted as regularly as I would like, I did some hunting for games. Their on the My MySpace Blog.

http://blog.myspace.com/claudiathegodling

I may not have regular visitors, there or here, but I still like to have something different up for those who might visit. I blog as a way of putting myself out there ... but truly it doesn't really matter how many people visit or don't visit ... or how many friends --On MySpace-- I have. Because of all the blogs, I have and I think there are now five or six ...

It's all for me. Myself. A test of pushing myself from my safe boundaries and putting myself out there, getting the courage and strength to publicize my voice, my words no matter who might or might not see or might disagree.

In other words, preparing myself to submit my writings and preparing myself for any or all rejection letters I might get. And also, because I really Dig this blogging thing. Since I was I kid, I've always kept some kind of journal, of my thoughts and experiences. It's interesting doing so in such a public forum.

So anyway, enjoy the games. Feel free to peruse and I hope for you all that in this world of Constant motion, the Universe allows you at least a few restful moments of inner stillness.

HIT MAN NAME BUT FOR THE GRACE OF ADDICTION

Mickey Z People Iced: Thirty Two Car Bombs Planted: Sixteen Favorite Weapon Bottle Rockets Arms Broken: Twenty Five Eyes Gouged: Fourteen Tongues Cut Off: Eight Biggest Enemy: Joey Diamonds Get Your HITMAN Name AWSOME-GAME

CHILDHOOD DREAM

Okay, so maybe it's just me.

But when I was about twelve, one of things on
my list of "Things I'd like to be when I grow up"
was a Hit Man for the Government.

It was a phase that didn't last long and had been
brought on by childhood traumas, I shall forgo
mentioning in detail, in this particular post.

But for a while, I can remember the dream of being a
government assassin, had become a burning
passion. I think it was the possibility of living an existence
without feeling that drew my fascination.

ESCAPISM

I surmised that to be able to just take out a random
stranger for pay, one would have to be devoid of almost
all emotion. And for a long period during my childhood
and my early twenties this was a constant want. To exist
beyond emotion. To not be touched by outer or inner influences.

Escaping Pain.

The irony is, it was my addiction to pleasure that kept
me from shutting down emotionally.

Just when I thought ... it couldn't get any more confusing!

We Writers must start somewhere. Our beginnings, well for some of us are quite humble. Mine are, even if I'm not ... humble.

So my new job... And I have no idea what I am anymore, in my latest chosen career and profession.

Because I was a CSR and then suddenly I became a USR slash N Support slash an Agent in the (get this) PP Department.

So now I'm not USR or CSR I'm CCR and I haven't even completed training yet and the Titles just keep changing.

So it's all very confidential and secret (which surprised the heck out of me) and I have fifty-leven million versions of some type of messenger or chat on my computer. A ridiculous number of emails and user names. I have so many ID numbers and Id names that I have no idea what my REAL name is any more or how to spell it. In fact I may no longer have a real name. I may just live out the rest of my life as Agent--plus a #.

I have so many passwords, for work as well as my own personal passwords for my own computer, emails, websites, blogs, banking, etc... that I'm beginning to feel like I work for National Security and no one has the heart to tell me the truth.

I thought I had mastered the art of multi-tasking and working and navigating through many windows or web pages, at once, for research or what have you. I have learned a nasty lesson in you don't know jack scat.

So just like any job, all my superiors have a different idea of how I, the peon, should do my job and therefore I'm being trained in the most contradictory manner possible. And being trained in several completely different methods for resolving issues and handling protocol.

My emails numbers in the hundreds daily by early morning and before Logging into work ... I'm to sift through this pile'o (stuff) and determine what's relevant to me ... unfortunately to do that I must open each piece'o (stuff) and read at least a few lines.

And somehow in between fielding calls, I must, while speaking to the the irate on the phone, sift through numerous web pages, company forms, and keep atop of email lest something urgent I must know be posted there rather than on the web pages' tickers and I miss it.

It's all been very interesting. Amusing--if sometimes confusing and a little irritating.

And if I don't hurl my training computer at my Stupervisor and put my fist through the monitor after being locked out of the training simulator for the tenth tie because systems are down ... I just might stick with it.

Kiss me quick,

Claudia

"Who's ya daddy, now?"

Another day. Another MthrF-in dollar.

So yeah,

Training for my new bread-maker career is kinda fun and kinda not, but hey I get full pay during training so not really gonna complain. But it's biting into my writing time. So I have to make some serious adjustments.

Some days I'm so exhausted mentally and physically I don't have the energy to write. But hopefully I'll acclimate to the changes soon. If not ... I'm quitting my new job. Gotta have my priorities straight. Writing and working towards getting published is a Priority.