Ultraviolet Addiction

Sunset is now at 7:23. I had so few hours at work over the summer that I did spend quite a lot of time outside, nearly naked, in full sun. Now I am not getting enough. In a way the summer was long, because July seems ages ago, and yet it went so fast! It will be November before I know it and I’ll be seeking the nearest tanning bed. I think my sun addiction is worse than my cheese addiction. You don’t realize what a fiend you are until you get cut off. I love some cheese, but I don’t feel the same way when there is no cheese. If I have other fats like nut butter the anxiety and restlessness abates. There is no solar substitute. I sort of wish I could go to Australia or something next month.

Observations

  • I have a shoe obsession. While staging for fire evacuation, after I got my Mark VI and my bug-out-bag, I was staging shoes. My Nick’s obviously, my new Salamon boots, the no-name-brand black patent leather heels for the wedding, and I put on my best pair of Chacos.
  • I have severely damaged socially functioning skills. Whenever I feel threatened (all the time since LBL) I assume a submissive stance. Is this because my parents neglected me, beat me (okay only spanking and whooping with a wooden spoon, fly swatter, or belt strap) or is it the training as a Gorean slave, or Michelle beating me and constantly threatening me, or my traumatic employment failure at LBL? Mr. X is like the first person I’ve been able to trust in my entire life, except maybe my grandma. I am really psychotic about some things. Bless his patient little heart. I live in constant fear of being fired and/or unemployed. I apply lots of places, but haven’t gotten any legitimate work since October. I do not trust people in positions of power in relationship to me. I do not trust people. I cannot lie. I have no self-confidence.
  • I cannot take criticism.
  • I discount praise because it does not come with any tangible rewards. It does not release happy chemicals in my brain. If you really cared, you’d let me out of work early so I could go play outside.
  • I am a poor listener.
  • I have a very difficult time expressing myself. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT TELEPATHIC!?! TELEPATHETIC? NO? UGH! I have to speak to you and listen to you speak to me? That’s so difficult and inefficient!
  • I am have extreme difficulty operating in time. Schedules, planning, deadlines, time-keeping in general; all freak me out and cause me to have great anxiety. Time moves so very, very fast for me. I dread so many things and want to delay them. Delaying unwanted tasks often means they won’t ever need to get done, because before you get to their deadline, circumstances have changed and the task becomes irrelevant. You’re like, “Boy, I’m glad I did not waste my time on that!”
  • Shopping causes me to have anxiety attacks. I think it has to do with spending money and that I believe the money I have is all the money I will ever have and so obviously I can’t spend it. It has to do with trusting other people. Since other people control my income and my ability to achieve an income, I can’t trust them to come through for me. I can trust God or Source or the Universe to keep me alive to suffer another day. I suppose ultimately Source or myself is responsible, but it sure feels like untrustworthy humans are in control and hence the shopping anxiety. This is also why I get super pissed about my student loans and the affordable health care act. Give me something adequate that I can rely on, and I’ll happily give you jerks back 60%, but with an hourly, on-call job, y’all can suck my balls.
  • I still hate my job, that’s why it’s 7:25, with no lunch made, and only half a breakfast eaten, that I am on here.
  • I hate blind patriotism. Obviously you have a brain disorder. Nationalism died sometime after WWII. Where were you?
  • I find it difficult not to swear on the Internet.
  • If I am agitated, I do more miles on the stationary bike. It is soothing. Then my metabolism is even more spastic and I have to eat even more calories or feel like a burnt-out zombie.