Hard to write these days. I've turned into one of those lame bloggers who just disappears. Although, I'm pretty sure I have no regular readers, so I doubt anyone will notice. Ah, the freedom of solidtude and anonymity!

Zenchick is going through a significant period of loss. We managed to have a brief but meaningful phone call while I was en route from Nyack to Manhattan sometime on Saturday. I was previleged to have met Zenkitty. She actually allowed me to pet her once. She was truly a unique personality, very selective of her company. Part of me wished my own kitty Marge could have met her - but they probably would have hidden under furniture in seperate bedrooms. Marge would have meowed loudly from there. A funny thought in itself. So.. much love and peace to Zenkitty on her new journey. And, of course, to my girl bets.

As for me, I had a fantastic time letting my hair down at my company's annual christmas party, and spent a subsequent lovely weekend learning about Astrology, meeting some West Village Yuppies, eating baked Ziti while watching Angels in America, and in general hiding from my life. Relaxing positive weekends are, as my blog states, what I live for. Today I'm back at work and things are quiet. I'm always grateful for quiet days at the office. I'm even more grateful that I have half of next week off and all of the following week. And I'm most grateful of all for the friends who are thinking of me, who call and email from time to time, even when I don't see them.

I will miss my parents this year. It's looking like they won't be coming east, and I'm definitely not flying anywhere. I just can't handle any more traveling. I am just too tired. I am glad I got to see everyone at Thanksgiving. Right now the prospect of spending Christmas week alone sounds wonderful. I want to CLEAN CLEAN CLEAN my apartment, clean out my fridge, everything. I want to start 2004 with a relatively empty life. I'll buy new groceries, cook for myself and the stray friend who may pop by, and do some Yoga in my living room. I will likely go away someplace north for a few days around New Years - an even deeper retreat. That's all I want. Retreat. Quiet. LOTS of sleeping. Lots of sleep.

I want to blog about my relationship, but I am too nervous to state my emotions, and too afraid to admit some of them. I want to blog about my job - but I'm afraid of getting caught.

Writing has been an outlet of mine for years. I feel, however, jammed.

"There's no secret to balance. You just have to feel the waves."
Darwi Odrade, Chapterhouse: Dune

I'm currently working on creating a meditation for a New Moon circle I'm co-facilitating on 12/22, the day after the Winter Solstice. I have to come up with something that will help us to visualize the things we want to manifest for ourselves in the coming year. I tried that already. It didn't work. I'm trying not to feel defeatist. That's no way to enter a ritual circle. Hell, that's no way to live.

A friend recently asked me to define the nature of my current depressed state as "relationship," "Occupational," or "Existential." I said the best word for it was "Cumulative." Too many things have been wrong for too long a time, and more things seem to pop up all the time to add to the pile of crap. As another friend pointed out to me, yes, I do still have a job, I do have a man in my life, and I Marge is still healthy and waiting at home for me every day.

It's the prospect of losing my apartment that's really killing me these days. Sure, I'll find another one. But not like this one. Not even close.

My roommate has the lease. I am a mere sub-tenant. She will move if she finds a new job that's not in convenient commuting distance. The Landlord will not allow me to take over the lease because I don't meet his minimum income requirement. If my roomie goes, I go.

I am currently living in the apartment I have pretty much wanted all my life. It's a medium-to-small sized flat on the third floor of an Upper West Side building, with a small elevator, overpriced laundry machines in the basement (hey - they're THERE!), and lots of friendly neighbors. I am 1/2 block from Riverside park. I am 2 short blocks from the Express Subway stop. I am surrounded by groovy restaurants, fun bars, organic food marts, ATM's, and fun little shops. My church is 20 short blocks away - a lovely walk in nice weather and a short cab ride otherwise. I have big windows, lots of sunlight, a nice kitchen, a large bathroom, a coat closet. This is the home of my dreams.

If I made 25K a year more than I do, I could stay. Right now, at my age, and at my level of career uncertainly, it is hard for me to picture myself EVER making that kind of money.

I have changed career directions several times. I just haven't found the right fit. According to my Astrological chart, this makes perfect sense. However, I hate it. I feel as though I have been pigeon-holed into jobs that I never chose - they were what was offered to me, and I had to survive. The jobs I want have never materialized. So I do what is needed while continuing the search. Now, I am 32 years old with a resume full of experience in things I don't want to do. I feel completely trapped and used.

I try to be grateful for my income. but these days, I see a storage cube full of my belongings and a plane ticket back to my parents house in my future. It has been too long. I am starting, very slowly, to break down, tiny piece of belief by tiny piece. I can read all the platitudes online, all the good books, I can spend al week in prayer and with friends trying to "Buck Up." I am sending out an average of 3 resumes a week. No Responses Whatsoever. When I call to follow-up, I am told basically, to quit bothering people. I am polite and professional. I am an incredibly good actress. However - I feel a hole inside me getting bigger and bigger. That hole is right smack dab in the middle of my belief in life, and in people. I don't expect God to swoop down and fix things. I don't expect the job fairy to drop an offer letter in my lap.

I think I've stopped expecting anything at all, ever, from anyone. I'm starting to have a rough time simply hoping.

Yep, this is depressing alright.

I will feel better. Something must happen. It has to.

Right?