The tiny wounds that keep me from the little death

...I'm trying to reconcile how I can be more assertive in relationships without, y'know, being a dick about it. Some day, I want a romantic/ sexual partner on the regular, and one thing that has poisoning my relationships is my inability to strike a balance between calling shit the second I see it (when 90% of the shit I see is "I am hungry and therefore cranky and paranoid," and can be ditched after a good snack and a nap), and letting everything build up for months.

Right now, I'm vaguely irritated at my daughter for two things:

-she changed the address on my credit union accounts without consulting me* and

-she and I had plans last weekend, which involved meeting up with a co-worker of whom I am fond and possibly running into an old classmate, and she and her husband just decided, no, we're staying in today, you can help us with gardening.

And I am grateful that they are alive and willing to see me and not drug addicts or zombies or a thousand other awful things that can be worse, and I am just the worst person imaginable to put how my actions look to others over my children's feelings. Yet I am still irritated.

I can't let it go (believe me, I have tried), even though neither of there are something that is likely to come up again. (Maybe. Ugh, I want to change my banking password, it bothers me that they "have" to have this giant, non-reciprocal window into my affairs, plus I hate leaving passwords unchanged for more than XX days, but that will look like I'm being pissy or I'm hiding something.) I SHOULD be able to let them go, who lets petit crap like that bother her? My emotions are mine, nobody causes them but me. Also, telling C. I have a concern has about a 50% chance of being an emotional kick to her balls (Sigh. At least we know she's mine.), especially when she is stressed out about a dozen other things (financially strained, just moved, dealing with the fallout from husband having several deaths in his family, constantly feeling judged, not having comfortable shoes, health problems..)

The thing is, if I'm ever going to be in a relationship again, I need to find ways not to treat myself like a sack of crap, or it will be the past 30 years (minus Eric and K.) all over again... but how do you do that without shitting in the other person's chicken bucket?

*Long story: L. was in an accident that totaled the car, technically mine, so I needed to buy them a new one so they could keep their jobs (at the time, pizza delivery drivers). We were living together at the time, but Trevor the libertarian decided we were all moving, and so we split up the household. The loan could not continue without me on their insurance, I could not have them on the same insurance policy as me without living with them unless my rates were to go up astronomically, beyond my or their ability to pay, so I reluctantly changed my address to theirs. They recently tried to have me co-sign for another loan, and they decided to "correct" my address. Now I'm exposed to the world as an insurance fraud, when they are the ones backed me into a corner and said, "If you don't commit insurance fraud, we will lose our jobs." Aren't you sorry you read the footnote? David Foster Wallace I'm not. Also, I loathe that stupid, ugly car from the deeps of my being, although it is at least better than the Focus, of which the best that can be said is they do not often awaken to find it perched on the end of their bed at three a.m., shining its high beams in their faces as it mutters rude words in a Romani dialect.

Trying to reconcile

This fitness plan thing says my goal is 2200 kcal of activity per day. I... just don't know how I can do that, without finding some way to count my calories from exercise that doesn't "count." I can walk 5.5 hours a day, I guess... (No, I really can't. Fine, I walk/ jog 5k about every other day, but it's nowhere near the same thing. Ugh, FINE, I just don't WANT to walk 5.5 hours a day.) (Okay, 1200 of that is covered by 9+ hours at a desk, but... man, can I whine again? Desk time / > time in a plank.)

OTOH, if burning 2200 calories a day is what it takes to lose 5 lbs in a year (the goal I've been stuck with), then I finally get why I'm not losing weight...

Well, shit... realize there is probably a pornographic parody out there of Alice in Wonderland that not only does not have Alice looking archly at the camera and murmuring, "Curiouser and curiouser," but lacks even a broken condom and the phrase, "But it was best butter"?

Filk beginning

Why do dogs
Shit upon the ground
Every time
He's around?

Just like me,
They long to be
Far away...

Why do stars
Shriek from out their spheres,
Every time he appears?

Just like me,
They long to be
Far away.

On the day that I met him,
My angel fled my shoulder
And the devil palmed his face and made a moue.
He will not shut up or take a hint
And murder's so illegal tell me... what's a girl to do?

And that's why
Smiles do not reach eyes
Till it's time
For goodbyes.
Just like me,
They long to be
Far away.

(Unlike my last couple catty filks, this is not dedicated to anyone particular, and is only gendered because the person bitching about Obama usually presents as male.)