'Ff'lo (fflo) wrote,

all the stress hitting me?

I'm not liking too much how I'm feeling tonight.

I think the pent-up stress of the last week, now that things are getting kind of "back to business," is starting to hit me. It doesn't help that the twitching eyebrow, and then the heart palpitations, and then the shivery exhaustedness, having hit, started a feedback loop of freaking me out; it doesn't help that the subject of mortality has never been my strong suit---frankly, it's my weakest---and that includes the intruding perception of my own. It doesn't help, either, that I'm not fully sober, nor that I'm dehydrated, nor that I keep shortchanging myself on sleep. It doesn't help that similar sensations have freaked me out before, and recently.

It helps that I got somebody on the phone. It helps that I am beginning to be able to think of what I might say about Paula in the memory book and/or blog-to-come in such a way that those thoughts make me smile as much as they make me feel like weeping.

It doesn't help that today was Secretary of State day. It doesn't help that the fucking State of Michigan will accept as "immediate family," and thus more primary than a long-term lesbian partnership, all of the following relationships:

Legally Adoptive Parent
Legally Adopted Child
Legal Ward
& Legally Appointed Guardian (w/certified letter of guardianship).

It doesn't help that, like "as-legal-as-possible-for-a-same-sex-partner partner," "cousin" and "nephew" and "step-grandmother" aren't considered officially sanctionedly close, either.

It does help that my boss is so fucking cool sometimes.

It does help that BTK has signalled the whole office that it's okay to go about our business now. That he can manage, and if he can manage, we can certainly manage.

It probably didn't help, seeing E & S & S at the talk Monday, and not talking to KC about it cuz there was so much else to discuss. It probably doesn't help trying to decide so late to hit the road for the holidays, and scrambling to figure out how I might pull it off this time, and what all really needs to get done first. I don't know if it helped writing to young T.

It probably has helped going to the building. It helps to have just heard from my building buddy.

Ping-pong has definitely helped.

And it may help if I get some good sleep tonight. And if I can keep that mask on throughout.

{Ranter's Remarks: Remind me later, will one of you, to rant some more? I have some serious queer ranting in me to do, like only someone, say, starting to feel they're backing us queers into a corner can rant.}   {It helps, too. To rant.}   {That reminds me of the line in The [Queer] Addams Family that so thrilled Greg Eiselein, and me, too---almost as much as I was thrilled by his delight to think of, and tell of, it. It's when Fester is being introduced to ---is it his date, who later fucks him over? Somebody help me out here. She says, "My name is ____. It means _____." And he smiles wide-eyed big as he replies, "My name is Fester. It means 'to rot.' "}   {wednes, I know you know this one....}

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