Everything - and I mean EVERYTHING drove me crazy today.
I wanted to just scream.
However, I am not sure why.
I woke up naturally, apparently my alarm did not go off at 6:30am the way I planned. Instead, my eyes popped open at 7:30am. Still ... not a total disaster. I got up, made some coffee, and ran to the bathroom to wash my face, comb my hair and do the basics.
Made it to work before my boss, which is ALWAYS a good thing. ;-) Got settled in...
Well sort of.
Here is where it got a little crazy.
We are exactly one week from the festival. Sure.. things are starting to get tense. Not so bad on our end, we are all just busy. But when you do what I do for a living, you have to deal with - SPONSORS and the media, which means scheduling interviews with people who are just passing through. You may wonder what I am talking about. When you are in the size media market Macon is, you have tons of reporters and producers fresh out of college. This may be their first tv gig or even their second. Rarely do you actually get a veteran to answer the phone.
Nor do any of them really care about what's going on here, simply because they are not planning on sticking around. So I find myself having to reeducate someone on the phone on why it is soooo important to book me. lol Yeah.. I know.. I know...
After putting out a few fires with sponsors and vendors and media and. and. and.. I decided I was tired.
I grabbed my bag and began the 6 block walk (and about two streets over) to Michael's on Mulberry for lunch. I sat alone, ordered my little buffalo tenders and just tried to breathe. Finally I get the sweetest text from my former intern, and she offers to stop by. We sat and chatted. A chat that gave me the biggest shock of my life. She told me she suffered a stroke just a month or so ago and she was just now recovering. She is maybe 22 or so. I sat. I listened. I asked questions. I got mad at our local hospital for MISDIAGNOSING HER AND SENDING HER HOME (they told her she had a panic attack.) Finally, almost 24 hours later, they do a scan and find a blockage in her brain. She had classic symptoms: Loss of use of her hand, one side of her body, slurred speech.. etc. I was just appalled at how the emergency room handled this case. Here is a girl that's family lived in NC and she, along with her sorority sisters, were trying to figure out what was wrong with her. Geez. I told her to CALL ME if anything happens. I will be bopping some hospital heads like little bunny foo-foo.
I walked back, a little rattled from our conversation and attempted to get it back together. Finally my newest intern and I walked several blocks and blanketed all of the downtown businesses with posters for the event.
Needless to say, I got back and was exhausted.
I am still irritable.
Not. Sure. Why.
Maybe it's the fact that yesterday was slightly intense with the funeral. Maybe it's because I am so busy. Maybe it's because I feel oh-so-VERY alone (the husband thing.) He refuses to acknowledge me in our own home. He says he's leaving, but hasn't. Yes.. I know.. people keep telling me to change the locks.. throw his stuff out. Yeah.. people.. it's not that simple. His name is on the lease. We rent (no changing of locks are allowed.) And do you think I'm CRAZY? I'm not throwing anyone's stuff out. I brought him here, he has NO ONE AND NO WHERE to go. I don't WANT him to leave. I want us to work on US. So the situation is a little bit more complicated than I like to admit.
Regardless... I'm irritated. I'm frustrated. My coping skills are not up to par. I'm super sensitive. Super sad.. but pretending all is going to be okay. I'm sick of advice. I'm sick of people saying I have been used (Talk about rejection.. basically when you tell me he used me to get into the country, what I hear is - "Hey.. there is no way he could have loved you.") Just sick. sick. sick.
I guess I will throw myself into my little container garden this weekend. Read a little (actually, read a LOT.) Check out Fired Works. Maybe attend the Sunday Concert thing at Washington Park - but here's the shitty part - I have to do it ALL ALONE. THAT sucks. Sucks more than you can ever know. I go out to eat alone. I go to things alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. I spend so much time at home Alone. (Hell.. even when he is here, I am alone.)
SCREAM. I tell you.. I want to scream.
PS - Thanks for letting me vent. I REALLY needed to vent.