the Bitch in the house

“I’m gonna make it after all! … “ I’m not going to be an attorney afterall. In case there was any doubt, I don’t think I want to anymore. I got an email last week from a former classmate who was less than generous. Let’s just say dumb, blonde and bimbo were used. The interesting thing is that I should be flattered that I am so important that this guy not only thought of me, but then went out of his way to find a method to send me a note. Of course the whole uninvited, stalkerish nonense comes to mind. But I am really thinking that I do not want to work with people like that… and who else would I be working with?! Then there are the descriptor’s: let’s get real… dumb blonde and bimbo are not adjectives that accurately describe me now or ever… obviously this guy is a whackjob – but then creepy assholes generally are a little off their rockers, right? Still I really don’t know what to do with myself so I just keep plodding along. Lil’Einstein is totally frustrated and wants to go on his playdate RIGHT NOW! But I have been battling nasty downwardness since starting on the happypills my psychologist is sure will help lift me up . I didn’t know I needed ‘help’ or that I needed to be ‘up.’ I really don’t think I need them at all. I should feel sad about what has happened. I should feel abused by the scarey awfulness of my experiences at the scummyschool. I should spend time re-thinking and re-evaluating my life to figure out what to do next. Those pills just make me feel like hiding and like I am somehow stunted from feeling anything at all. I’m sleeping through bizzare fits of chaotic imagery rather than dealing with the healing from this trauma. Overall, I generally have a pretty zen outlook in that I figure being a lawyer wasn’t meant to be for me. But now I feel like I’m obsessing about not doing anything… As if I could ever NOT do anything! Lots of projects are getting done and my art was bubbling before the chemical adjustment. I am trying to focus on the positivity of not having to rub elbows with yucky monsters like former schoolmates. And trying to remember that I did recognize lacking a desire to want to be like them, I wanted to be better than them – in lots of ways I am better than they – so why did I need to go to lawschool to prove something?! I am an excellent writer (if I do say so myself…) and I have mad skills for helping people. The practice of lawyering is REALLY not about helping others. It is about pursuasion, and it doesn’t bother with the ridiculous notion of truth or justice – it’s just about expedient convincablity. It’s true that I am just not very good at that. Afterall, look how long my damn posts are here! So in order to avoid my own wallow in the mire, I’m off to playtime with my guy, a picnic in the park today… and then some work for the Mannah project. And when I’m ready, I’ll be doing what I am supposed to do with myself… who knows?… maybe this is it. Would that be okay enough?