Huh. I’m writing this in Word for posting later as there seems to be a problem with Blogger. Hope that resolves itself. I got stuff to say today.

When you last tuned in, I was recounting how I only had four hours sleep on Sunday night, thus making me a wreck all day yesterday. So, after a work meeting yesterday with one of our funders, I headed for the PATH train and went home. Got home, fed and walked the dog, fell into bed, and was no more animate than a plush toy for the next several hours. I awoke at the stroke of midnight (Bewah-hahahahaaaah!), fixed myself a bowl of cereal, spent some time on AOL, and about 1:30 am decided, ‘Time to hit the hay!’

I got into bed, and no dice. There I was, obsessively thinking about money. Will I be making enough with the pay cut I’m taking with my new job? Will I be able to afford the renovations I’m making to my condo in Lauderdale? Are the renovations too design-forward? Will I decimate the resale value? How will I be able to get down there to manage the renovations? What if I run out of money? What if I exhaust my bank account? Why can’t I save? Why can’t I manage my money better? Goddamn my Ex anyway for sticking me with this whopping huge car payment because he insisted that his name be taken off the lease for our old car, forcing me to subsume that lease into the new car I leased. It drives me nuts when I see a commercial for a Jaguar that has lower lease payments than I’m making. Maybe I could renegotiate the lease now that I’ve paid a year on it, and stretch the remaining three years over four…

And then, and it was more of a sensation than something cognitive, I just had this thought that I just wasn’t managing my life. That it was all beyond me, slipping through my fingers. I dropped the reins and the horses were running wild. I was incapable. I couldn't do it. I couldn't cope.

I looked at the clock, and whaddyaknow, it’s ten minutes before four. Thank the Lord I brought from my parents a Perry Mason mystery, “The Case of the Grinning Gorilla.” That put me to sleep after only a few pages.

I haven't had a nocturnal panic attack like that for years. They used to be centered around work. But before that, it was all about what I could call 'life management.' This worries me. It was that general sense of life management incompetence that propelled me into the seven year stint I did with my Ex. A very unsuitable relationship for me. But, at the time, my calculus was that it's better than being alone. Since I left just over a year ago, I have reveled in being alone, a sole practitioner, accountable to no one but me, breathing the sweet air of freedom. My bed was made, there were no piles of dirty laundry on my floor, there were no dirty dishes in my sink. I had it together. I was on top of my game. I was Mr. Leatherguy on the scene, flirting with boys at every opportunity, bringing such joy into the world with my floggers and my whips. What I had been aiming for was a sort of secular monastacism. Life of the mind, life of the spirit, strength of the body, the joys of sexual congress.

And then, there was Special Guy. I opted for a relationship instead of being single, because the chances of meeting someone so perfectly matched for me again were vanishingly small. I didn't want the opportunity to go by. And I fell in love, as in, head over heels, for the first time ever. All the time, there was a sort of tension within me: what about that freedom? What about that commitment to being alone you spoke of so eloquently? But overall, I jumped in, both feet.

And then, Special Guy dumped me. My initial response was, "Yeah. Okay." It was almost a non-event. And then, out of nowhere, unbidden, came the thought: "I miss Special Guy. I wish he was still my boyfriend." And then, last night, the Bed Panic. Huh. And another thing, I haven't had sex since I got back from Inferno. Sex is sort of feeling like way too much to take on. I know what's happening there. There can, or there can not be an emotional component to sex. It can either be a bonding, renewing, and incredibly intimate experience for two people who love each other; or, it can be a game where you don't have all the parts. (I watch Sex in the City so I know about these things.) Big problems come in (and this I know from experience)(a wealth of experience, I might add) when one person is playing the game and the other person is going through the bonding-renewing-intimate thing. I am in danger of doing the bonding-renewing-intimate thing with an unwitting partner who's playing the game. After it's over, he's thinking, "Wow. That was nice." and I'm thinking, "I love you and I want to be with you forever."

So okay, Kramer! Get your sorry act together.

1. Clean your apartment.
2. Go to the gym religiously.
3. Go to church religiously.
4. Flirt shamelessly with every hot boy that crosses your path.
5. Have lots and lots of wild, meaningless sex.

Oh, and eat right and take your multi-vitamin.