the last of it

Why do I always want to climb into a hole and hide when New Year's Eve rolls around?

I have a ticket to go dancing with friends who see each other very often. I don't see them often, probably because I'm pretty dull to be around lately (conversation topics generally wind up being work-related, centered around how much I'm working and how many jobs I have. I try to steer away from that, I swear). They were all together last evening, doing fun things, as they always do. And, for some dumb reason, knowing that they did something fun, as they always do, I don't think I should go dancing tonight with them.

This morning I had an anxiety attack, early, around 4:30 or so. I'm not sure what the anxiety was about, but I felt that impending doom when you have to do something that you don't feel comfortable doing. I thought it was because I had to make something for a potluck at work, but after I made another plan for that, the anxiety persisted. It may be because of tonight. And I dread dressing up in a dress that I feel blubbery in, sweating because I always sweat when I dance, watching other people kiss at midnight and then walking home by myself while the world happens around me. I can't get excited about it.

So... I might try to give the ticket to that group of friends, as I'm sure they have someone who will want to go that will be more cheery. I'd kind of like to board a bus out of town and ride it to the end of the line. Maybe ride the Skytrain all night, in loops. Or just go to bed early, since I have to work tomorrow anyway.

Why does there have to be any emphasis on the importance of New Year's Eve? Why can't it just be another day?

bracing

Hello, poor neglected blog. It's been a while, I know... No excuse is a good excuse in this sort of situation, so I won't even try.

I will talk about something more dull, though. Don't you worry about that.

Earlier in December, I was so happy to be finishing up my adult braces. The Invisalign have been fine, but I was growing tired of them, especially leading up to the holidays. After my appointment, though, it was apparent this was not the end. It may never be the end.

At least that's how it feels.

I'm onto the "refinement" trays, which hurt like a mofo. I'm supposed to floss a billion times a day and it's just pools of blood from my fricking teeth being moved around in my mouth. Yesterday's trays are killing me, high pain threshold and all. Groan.

But one day... one day I'll have nice, straight teeth that line up perfectly. I just have no idea when that will be. Right now I'm set up for another 24 weeks, if my teeth don't sort themselves out by then.

See? This is why I haven't been blogging. Snore.