breaking news. this just in...

the suki...

aint so stable.

I'm not particularly "normal" and sanity, I've discovered...is relative.

I guess I'm what you would call a "high functioning" momo. I talk a good game. I even put on a good face and make a good showing of it (occasionally I even dress the part. I'm tempted to abandon this blog right here and instead devote the next 2500 words or less to the pantyhose with the droopy crotch I wore today, but...).

then I come home and bawl my eyes out...almost daily.

work is VERY difficult for me. partly because its difficult work (2nd graders are evil) and partly because I'm still extremely gun shy and not too terribly confident in my ability to perform under pressure.

(for you cyclists out there read: I will NEVER race. hiding in the back is one my favoritist things to do)

see...I had a bad run of it at my first job. well, my only REAL job. I was fresh out of college. had a brand spanking new diploma with summa cum laude marks, a 5 year old...and hadn't slept in three years. I was ripe for a break down.

and boy, did I.

I was overwhelmed, undermined, back-stabbed, dicked around, toyed with, played a fool and quit mid performance review with verbiage to the effect of "I will NOT subjugate my soul to DA MAN!!"...

and left to "write a book."

folks, this blog and several cocktail napkins full o' dribble is as close as I've come to writing anything.

since then I've spent the latter portion of seven years fearing leaving my home, REALLY fearing job/career/performance expectations/criticism/pressure/normal tasks of functioning adults in the course of daily living and believe it or not...

money.

(^ by far NOT my biggest fear, mind you)

so now I've shed the comfort of house-wifery, taken to the work force, bought myself some teacher shoes...

and again with the crying almost daily.

shop: 1, suki: 0

I'm 20 minutes late everyday. most days I'm lucky to beat the kids to the classroom. mostly because I have the most god awful time walking out the door.

I.just.don't.want.to.leave.

I was home by 3:00 today. promptly donned my jammies...and don't intend to leave my bedroom again until I'm 72.

years old.

you can't make me do it.

well, YOU can't...but the chinese food delivery guy (yeah, I'm not even leaving the house for food) could POSSIBLY tempt me to leave my bedroom...but only if Oqui were to break both of his legs and not be able to fetch it for me.

I'm planning on peeing out the window, shitting in the hamper, and eating the dogs when I run out of chinese.

I'm officially throwing in the towel (the shower's in the bathroom. I won't be needing it) and calling it quits.

life is overwhelming.

I'm taking a sabbatical.