Now that ‘woot’ has made it into the dictionary, I can safely use it without reprisals.

But the real purpose of this post is to share the news that my Etsy shop is now open and I’ve sold 9 buttons to 4 different people. Whee!

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Sometimes I feel this overwhelming crushing sensation that’s partially in my head and partially in my heart. It feels like time is slipping by too fast, and has been slipping away pointlessly for some time.

It feels like I need to catch up, to get doing stuff Right Now, to make my mark on the world as soon as possible, but it also feels like it might be too late already.

Sometimes I get this feeling when I’m working at a show where the exhibitors have creative or crafty items. I see all the things they’re selling, and I see how they’ve done it — they’ve taken the plunge and are making and selling their Stuff. They had enough confidence to actually go out on a limb and make it happen. And I see things that I could have done myself, and things I wish I could do, and things I can’t believe people pay money for. And it makes me sad, because I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to ever make that leap.

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I feel like crap and I’m not sure why. Emotionally, not physically.

It’s not like my life is any worse than it’s been for the last year and a half. I still live with my mom. I’m still adjusting to losing most of my friends in the divorce. I still hate my job. I’m still unable to get even an interview for the most menial jobs that only require a high school diploma. My house still won’t sell, which means I still have no money. I’m still fat and incapable of bringing myself to do anything about it.

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It’s not even Monday.

I’ve had a headache for two or three days now. I’ve lost count. I should eat something, but my only choices right now are a nasty Weight Watchers TV dinner or fast food. I’m sure there are other choices, like going to the grocery store and buying stuff to make a healthy lunch, or some crap like that, but those aren’t really options to me right now.

My job is really depressing me lately. I know that’s not really anything new, and I should stop complaining about it. I sent out some more applications this week, but I know I won’t hear back. I never do anymore.

It’s clear I’ll be here until the end of time. Which is very depressing, since I really don’t like anyone who works here anymore. Especially the new guy. He’s just way too in my face all the time. I can’t even sit here and cry, pretending I have allergies. And I can’t give him stuff to do, because I can’t trust him to do it even partially correctly. And I have to go sometime soon and talk to my manager about my review. I’m sure everyone said that I have no personality, that I obviously don’t care about my job, and that I don’t participate in things like holiday parties. All true.

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And we’re back.

(If you have no idea what I’m talking about and think I’ve lost my mind, you might be right. But first read yesterday’s blog entry, as it might clear up at least the first part.)

The enneagram types are placed around a circle in a particular order, with lines and arrows going every which way. If you want to know the details, read the book or look online or something (if you do look online, you’ll notice that some of the type names are different — Mediator is called Peacemaker, for example).

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On a whim, I got a book from the library (shocking, I know) called The Essential Enneagram. It’s basically a skinny little book that tells you about your personality. There were two things that struck me about this enneagram thing, as opposed to the jillion other personality tests I’ve taken.

First is the way it explains how the different personality types are related to each other, which I’ll get to later.

The other thing is the basic proposition of the whole thing. Each of the types is defined by the fundamental principle this person has lost sight of, what she came to believe instead, and the strategy she developed to cope with this belief. Again, I’ll explain more later.

First, a little overview.

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There were long stretches of nothingness at Coffee Fest this weekend. Very long stretches. So Mckenzie and I filled the time will all kinds of childish diversions. We took personality tests to determine everything from our dominant chakras to our Native American power animals. We did enneagrams and horoscopes and discovered our inner goddesses. (Turns out Mckenzie is a bossy whore and I’m a verbose stalker.)

When that book ran out of entertainment value, we started reading some of the 1001 Dumbest Things Ever Said. And I even read aloud some anecdotes from a book I was inexplicably reading about coming up with ideas for advertising.

But all that was Day One. And there was a whole lot more boredom stretching out before us. Despite the abundance or rude and/or stupid people to make fun of (behind their backs, of course — we are in the customer service industry, you know), and despite the fun rubber yoyo toy that looked like a jellyfish, we needed more distraction.

Yesterday, our desperation reached junior high levels, and we made cootie catchers and played MASH.

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Today, in a desperate attempt to post something, anything, that requires very little effort, I will reveal the glorious effects when I Google myself. I recommend you trying this on yourself, but it might not work so well if your name isn’t as weird (or at least as weirdly spelled) as mine.

When I type in my first and last name, I discover things I didn’t realize or remember, and I’m a little surprised that I have more than one page of goodies. Evidently I have a ScrapBlog and a ScrapBio, probably created back when I actually made scrapbook pages and labored under the cruel delusion that someday the world might want to share in the awesomeness that is my craftiness.

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Here’s the deal. I’ve been on anti-depressants for a couple years now. I was pretty sure it was a chemical thing, because every time I tried to skip a few days, I turned into a basket case. But, due to some recent screwups on the part of Walgreens, I was forced to go a couple weeks without the happy pills. And an amazing thing happened this time: I stayed happy. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m grumpy and restless and fairly certain I’m encountering PMS-land. I’ve been told I should write stuff down, get out everything that’s frustrating me, irritating me, worrying me, annoying me, angering me, and so on. But it seems as though all of my posts here have been negative. At least an unhealthy percentage of them. When I’m in a good mood, there are other things I’d rather do besides sit here and write. But when my mood goes south, all that’s left to do is whine about it.

But maybe I should try to put a more positive, hopeful spin on things. Write about what I want to be able to do, write about what I’d like to get sorted out and cleared up. That’s probably a better idea than just listing my complaints. It has an illusion of forward motion, anyway.

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