Some Questions

I have recently been asked a few questions and I honestly do not know the answers to any of them. They are 1. since I do not associate memories, what do I associate memories with? 2. What do I want for myself career-wise? And 3. Is my aversion to being touched physiological or psychological.

Taking these in order, the answer is still I have no idea, but . . .

I have never had a "special song," or associated music with an event or era. I just never have and doubt if I will start to now. Probably the closest I will ever get is the memory of being asked if I had ever been in love before by an old college roommate back when I played 1 CD incessantly. And that memory is ties mostly to the embarrassment of the fact that she drew that conclusion when the reality was I had few CD's to listen to & that was 1 I could listen to incessantly while studying.

So I guess my method of recalling memories is through emotions. I can recall in exquisite, painful detail every memory that deals with some form of embarrassment. I treasure my memories that deal with laughter and happiness. I brood over moments when something happened and I just do not understand the why's and where for's - an emotion otherwise known as confusion. But sound or music? No, can't say that there is any 1 song that I will hear and automatically think of an era or event. There certainly are no smells that trigger my memory. Cripes, the delightful smell of papermills in Savannah does nothing but make me curl my nose and then I shrug my shoulders and go on. So does that make me weird? Or just another sign that my memory works differently?

As for what I want for myself career-wise, I am at a total loss. In many ways my current job is perfect. I have lots of time to read and order more books to read. I get first dibs on any & all new books and that is great. The problem lies in how much I despise dealing with the public and the sector I deal with is the upper strata of society - they read! But I hate being a baby sitter during the summer because the parents are too lazy to come up with something for their kids to do. I hate helping people who have no idea how to turn on a computer and are too lazy to read directions on the screen.

So what does that leave me with? I enjoy writing and reading, but I also enjoy traveling and being active. I hate just sitting and answering questions. I feel like my brain is being wrapped in a fog and I will never escape. I am being urged by some to go back to school and get an American Library Association approved degree so that I can get a promotion and a pay raise. The problem with that suggestion is that I have no desire to get another degree and I most especially have no desire to go back to school. I put in my time & have 3 degrees. I MIGHT go back to get my Education degree certified just so I can say I have completed the degree, but that is as far as I want to go. I am tired of killing myself in classes I am not interested in.

The other option is the 1 that is sounding more and more appealing but I need support in a physical manner. I will need to keep the job just because of the benefit package. With fibromyalgia, arthritis, and migraines, I can not afford to give up the deep discounts on doctor visits and prescriptions. But I also can not keep up a home; drive 2 hours every day; work 40 hours a week; help my sister, nephew & mother out with the odds & ends they need; deal with all the problems of living by myself; deal with a 10 year old car; and still try to have a life. I need help with some of this and I know it. A roommate is completely out because I have little to no trust for a stranger and the few friends I have I want to keep.

So I guess what I am saying is that while the idea of writing appeals, and I have ideas that I want to write about, I can't do it with the way my life is now. I have little to no joy and happiness in my life. I spend my days in a fog and am constantly exhausted. Several somethings need to give and once they do, then I can start writing. Hopefully, if my life progresses the way I think it will, that will be this Christmas. I just hope I can survive till then.

I really hate being this tired. I know all the whys & where for's, but it does not help 1 bit. I could enjoy this job if I was not so tired 99% of the time. No job is perfect & I know it. This position offers all sorts of perks, including unlimited reading access which I love. The problem is that there are too many places I need to be and they are scattered all about. Traveling is 1 thing, but having to be in 1 of 4 places every day & none of them are less than 30 miles apart, is tiring & I cannot physically take it. I especially hate being in a mental fog so thick that the stories I want to tell are stuck in the background. I like writing. I mean really, look at how much I can spew forth on this blog. But to write a story takes a bit more than what I have now.

And revealing probably more than I should, I would love it if I could come home every now and again to that days perfection. Some days, the bed ready for me to crawl between the sheets with something light and soothing playing on the stereo. Other days, the pop corn and movie ready to go. Then there are the x-rated fantasies but those are mine and no one else's.