parched

For reasons that I won't go into, my life is stressful. I know, I know, whose isn't, but there's just some shit going on right now that I'll feel a lot better about when it's resolved.

I don't deal with stress very well. I am not, as a rule, very pleasant to be around when my nerves are a little on edge. Additionally, I bottle up stress deep inside like any good German would. And, I'm a Scorpio. Not that I'm into astrology at all, but if some sources (or here, or here) are to be believed, friggin Mount Vesuvius lurks under this pleasant, sunny exterior.

For these reasons, relaxation is very important to me, and when I cannot achieve it, bad things happen, usually to me but sometimes also to my personal relationships. Which really sucks.

Which brings me to this week's experiment: relaxing without the assistance of alcoholic beverages. September seems like it's been one big blur, and not just because I've been busy, but at least partly because literally, things have been a little bit blurry much of the time. I haven't woke up in a different state (unless you count hungover as a state) or anything, but my behavior has been a little unhealthy even by my liberal standards.

This would all be much easier if I was able to release all that pent-up tension through, oh, sex, for instance. That hasn't been working out so well for me either lately. Generally the drinking leads to the sex, but clearly, I've been doing something wrong.

Maybe it's the 15 pounds I've gained since I quit smoking in June. Yeah, that's right, no nicotine to relax me, either. Not that I haven't cheated liberally when drinking (see above).

All the good stuff, in short, is gone. I'm left with exercise, eating right and getting a good night's sleep. For fuck's sake, what's become of me?

Oh, and I was going to post a picture of the neighbor's fucking outdoor living room, but apparently the IT overlords at work wiped the photo program off my laptop, and I need to reinstall it as well as my camera as recognized hardware. And it's hot and I'm cranky and I just don't feel like it.

Tonight we--me and Patio Man--had a kitchen window standoff, btw. I stood in my kitchen, shade open as it always is because I feel claustrophobic when it's closed unless it's below 20 degrees outside, in which case the numbness in my fingers overrules any claustrophobia, and fixed dinner. (A stupidly healthy dinner of fresh veggie stir-fry, fyi.)

Patio Man sat, his chair actually facing my house, and watched me. I had all the windows open, with Audioslave blaring at 11 on the volume knob. It got dark and I still didn't close the shade. For all I know he was sitting there pleasuring himself while I chopped red peppers--the oil in his tiki no-torch musta been running low because I could barely see him--but dammit, it's my window, my view, and I was there first!