Well damn! Mr. Husband is doing our taxes. He keeps asking me questions. I want to scream! Oops, I think I did scream. Sorry about that.
I tend to describe myself as an outgoing loner. A big part of the problem is that I’m always a half beat away from everyone else’s rhythm. I can do taxes myself just fine, but I can’t figure out how to do them with another brain. It’s not a matter of “my way or the highway” or even “your way or the highway.” It’s either my way or your way. I can’t think about taxes or do any other complex and/or mathematical complexity in tandem. It ends up being a 3 legged race and those are always hilarious, but not very productive.
This morning he asked me what DSW was. My response was “Designer Shoe Warehouse.” Of, course. What the hell else could it be? (If you ask the question of a shoe freak) It ended up that he did know what DSW meant. What he was asking me…I think…was how to describe it in QuickBooks on our bank statement so that he would remember what it meant, at some point in the future. Dude, are you serious? You are asking me how to prompt the inner workings of YOUR brain? I spend the majority of my time trying to figure my own self out, and sometimes failing miserably.
What is going on is a major case of temporary denial. I’m clicking along finer than fine and then – BAM, I’m not. No particular reason, nothing is different. I’m OK then I’m not, that’s all there is to it. I almost hear the click as the switch flips. The way things look literally changes – drastically. Colors are not right, the angle of the sun seems wrong for the time of day.
Running water sounds like Niagara Falls. The tone and drone of the voices of the newscasters on Fox News (Hub likes it – I hate it) become so annoying that I want to throw the coffee table through the TV and then run outside and Hi-five my neighbors. Everything and everybody seems out of sync. Like listening to the static between radio channels and trying to make sense out of it.
Oh yea, I know what this is now. I keep forgetting that I have this totally frustrating, stupid bipolar mood disorder thing. I am minding my own business, and it sneaks up on me when I least expect it. I wonder, could I get a restraining order from this disorder where it has to stay 500 feet away from me at all times? That would be cool.
What I can do is remember that bipolar just happens, it’s not my fault. I didn’t eat the wrong thing, or stay out in the sun too long, watch the wrong movie, or listen to the wrong conversation. I can be vigilant, and try to pay attention to warning signs, but sometimes there are none. What is not helpful is beating myself up when it just happens without a warning.
I need to get out more! This is getting ridiculous. I love my house and my yard. It’s so comfy and pleasant. But, I’ve taken to staying, OK hiding, here way too much. There are no demands on me to leave if I don’t want to. No work, no classes, no sick friends, no obligations. No enormous sale going on at the shoe store even. Sure, I’ll go with Mr. Husband when he’s driving, out to dinner or errands.
Yesterday I went out to run my own errands for a change. The first place was to DSW to return a pair of shoes that I changed my mind about. When I returned to the car I got in on the passenger’s side and sat there for a moment confused. Hmmm, where is my driver? That’s when it hit me. When I get a little too comfortable in my suburban hermitage, a sort of inertia sets in.
I’m a home body who loves to travel. That may sound like a contradiction, but really it’s not. I define travel as leaving to a destination that is not local. When I’m not doing that, I’m perfectly happy to putter around the house. Write a little for this blog. Work on the book I’m still writing. No, I didn’t quit after the great NaNoWriMo smack down. I watch weird foreign films on Netflix. I’ve never been one of those people who needs someone else to entertain me. Maybe I’m too good at it? Does this even make sense?
Been doing some visualizations and meditations lately on what it is that I find fascinating more than anything else. I love to travel, but the big question is: why do I like to travel? I think I’ve figured it out. Had a Eureka moment. The number one most fascinating topic in the whole wide world is PEOPLE. Bam! There it is. Human beings in all their varied and wonderful glory, pain, opinions, beliefs, squalor and elations. That’s why I love to travel. To meet different people, in different cultures, different walks of life.
I never tire of studying why people do what they do, think what they think, or feel what they feel, even the so-called “bad people.” What I have to get into my own thick skull is that there are people right here in my own home town. Millions of them. I should go on people watching expeditions often. A missed opportunity, a befuzzlement that I intend to remedy. If not today…well tomorrow is another day.