Loud-mouthed liberal feminist. Anarchist knitter. Tequila-drinking artsy-smartsy fat chick. Bluesy folk-rock singer-songwriter. Rebel with too many causes. Quirky eclectic pagan poet. Paradoxical intuitive smartass. Sarcastic brainiac insomniac. You know, for starters.


Who's in the mood for some whining?

Ever have a moment when you just want to pick up a large blunt object, throw it through the window of your fancy downtown office building, and just scream at the wind outside?



Well, me neither.

I think, though, that I am close to snapping. I've been pulled so tight, and there's only so much more give I have in me before something breaks and I don't know what will happen then.

What's got me this way? Is it work? Partly. Is it family? For once in my life, no. Is it friends? Certainly not - my friends are what keeps me sane. Is it the home situation? Not really...the flux that was there has been pretty much resolved and everything will work out just fine, I'm pretty sure. Is it the band? Not really; there's flux and drama there, but I'm making my peace with it.

I feel like I'm hitting this same brick wall that I always hit. I've been here in Chicago for nearly three years...and the feet are itching. I feel like I'm suffocating in this job, and this life I have built and am building is starting to feel like a collar just one notch too tight. The connections that should make me happy, that should be my comfort...feel threatening to me.

I'm tired of reinventing myself, but I'm equally tired of pushing myself to change, to open up, to settle, to do those things that people do when they become part of something bigger than themselves.

Ack. I'm not saying this well, and overdramatically to boot. Whatever. I think it's time to go home and let my cat improve my mood.

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