Picking Up the Pieces

My Saturday morning surprise

The fact that its Sunday morning, and I'm here at work peering out at my car, which still has a backseat covered in glass, means that I obviously shut down at some point yesterday. The fact that my backseat is still covered in glass, and I am due at my company Christmas party this evening before picking Emma up, obviously means that I'm internally overwhelmed by this experience.

Although nothing was stolen or even touched, I feel an extreme sense of violation. I tend to shut down when my personal space and/or personal things are violated. I want the situation to be remedied immediately or it all just becomes too much. Seems silly, but for me, that's just the way it is sometimes. It could have been a LOT worse than what it is. The car could have not been there when I came out yesterday or it could have been a window other than the smallest that was busted out, however, it doesn't exactly make this easier for me because it just adds one more thing to my already full list of to-dos. I'm working this weekend, and working tomorrow, which leaves my window covered with plastic until Tuesday! Not cool. This would be a perfect time for a clone. To be able to push a button and have her appear. Close my eyes, and when they opened everything would be like it was before the neighborhood Crazy decided it would relieve his stress by smashing a couple of car windows.

According to the officer on the scene, that's who was responsible. Break ins are not unusual in the area either. The neighborhood fiends like to break in cars from time to time. I was hoping that it wouldn't be just a matter of time before they picked mine out of the bunch. Which is another thing about this situation that pisses me off. If you're gonna come along and bust my shit up, at least have a fucking reason behind it. I can completely understand if you were looking for some shit to steal, but damn, just because you saw it there and you couldn't control yourself? THAT is some bitchassness, to like, the millionth power. Anyhoo...

So now I am literally left to pick up the pieces, which are covering my child's car seat. Berkeley, we can't get back to you fast enough!

The Time Is Now!

She had had another unexpected inspection that day. She hates when they just pop up without notice, or give a same-day notice that an inspection is imminent. No time to clean (read: no time to hide shit behind other shit), just a forced reaction to authority figures and their clipboards. She's always angry after they leave. Mad that they've seen all that there is to see around here, even though their notes are for the purposes of making things better around here. Embarrassed by a cramped space, again, reactive, throwing things out over there, pointing and yelling about things over here. And when she almost knocked over a glass collector's plate she had been given as a gift, catching it in her hand, and attempting to put it back in its place, she completely lost it. "DAMMIT! You can't get to ANYTHING around here". Apparently, my things were in the way. She snatched a bag of crochet supplies from a larger tote when she grabbed for the tote. With both bags in hand, she slammed them back down to the floor, repositioning them. I thought I was gonna have a panic attack. I couldn't stop the tears.

Then I got caught. My effort to disguise my sniffles, took away from my efforts to wipe away the tears before they fell. Emma noticed my glassy eyes and asked me if I was crying. I told her no. I lied. The anxiety swelled up in my body, and radiated through my left hand like an electrical current. The left side. I am so unkind to the right side of my brain. I took my episode to the shower, were I could cry without being made.

Today, I went out in search of something healthier. I collected some resources on transitional housing, mental health services, and homeless shelters. I printed some affordable housing applications. I fantasized about having a place to think clearly, without the sounds of screaming, fussing, bickering and frustration hammering away at my sanity. I want to be content. I have a job that I enjoy, am excited that Emma is excited about her new school year, I am trying very hard to be happy. Happiness shouldn't have to be this hard to hold on to. Its time to move on.