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k fed up

@kfedup / kfedup.tumblr.com

have another mouthful
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Regretsy no more

Hey, y'all. It's the lurker here.

I've been in the funkiest of funkless funks for the past few months and over the past few weeks, I've been unpacking why. Seeing how much I'm isolating because of a constellation of health-related issues and generalized depression. Have been considering trying meds. But one thing keeps coming to the surface and I finally decided it's time to deal with it.

The one thing is the only thing in my life that I regret. That thing is never having finished my bachelor's degree.

I'm twice divorced, have lost several important friendships, and moved more times than I can count to places I didn't really want to live to maintain relationships I should have never entered in the first place, but I wouldn't trade any of those things. I don't feel regret about them. Why would I? I discovered who I am and who I am not because I experienced those things. Each of them allowed me to learn how to repair what's possible and how to let go of that which is complete.

I'm very good at this marketing copywriting work but I'm bored senseless. I want to challenge myself and taking online workshops is fine but it's just more interacting through a screen and lord love a duck, my spirit needs more. Plus, I am not using my gifts of communication, empathy, mirroring, and holding space for others in the way I know I am meant to use them. For two years I've felt like I'm wasting what's left of my life.

I am so afraid I will die full of this regret.

The cost has kept me from pulling the trigger on this dream for several years. I wish I started sooner, but clearly, I wasn't miserable enough yet. I'm well and truly stuck in the muck at the bottom of the lake about it now. There's nothing left to do but swim to the surface, so here I go.

Today I applied as a transfer student to the Psychology program at Kent State University to start classes this summer. It will probably take me 3 years to finish the 2 years I have left because I'm a single-income household and will have to work. I'm terrified I won't be able to manage both, but I hope I can rally.

I'm not sure if I'll continue on to get the Psych MA at KSU or go elsewhere to get an MA in Art Therapy after I finish the BA. I also want to get certified in Internal Family Systems therapy, so I'll be 63ish or older starting a new career as a therapist and I feel excited about my future for the first time in... well... I don't even know. A very long time.

I want a career that feels meaningful to me, helps people instead of businesses, and lets me use my gifts. One I can do until I'm dead because I'mma need to work until they're spreading my ashes.

I plan to take a class this summer to dip my toes in.

Holy shit, y'all. Lila will be a senior and I will be a junior on the same campus. She's so supportive and I've been crying happy-scared-overwhelmed-curious-excited tears all day.

Kelly's going back to college. Holy shit.

#it's been 35 years#that's a hell of a gap#my student loan debt can fucking die with me#no more thinking about it#time to grab it by the balls and swing
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Why is tumblr feeding me posts from Monday that I did not see on Monday when it’s clearly Friday and I would like to see mutuals posts when they’re made, not five days later?

#I need a nap#I already took a nap
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Head scratcher

I've been stuck in an hourly billing cycle for my copywriting services for a long time. Recently, I landed a flat-rate small website redesign project that will earn me more than double my hourly rate for the time spent.

The client cut at least half of what I wrote, and now the content sounds almost identical to what they have on their current site. I took ridiculously detailed notes in the kickoff, so I don't think I misunderstood what he wanted. Maybe he changed his mind.

His response email after the cuts sounded positive, so I don't feel like he's upset about it. But... why hire a copywriter?

I am confused.

Also, here's my invoice for words that vanished into the Google docs ether.

Thanks?

GIF by averybradyblog
#of course my dumb brain is trying to tell me I fucked it up and will never get hired again#calm your tits#brain#you aren't the boss of me
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Everybody's gotta learn their thing, but I could have done without the seven minutes a newbie phlebotomist spent trying to draw blood out of my arm with nary a drop making it into the tube. I always look away while getting blood drawn because I can sometimes be a bit of a fainter, so I didn't realize she wasn't actually getting anything. I think she missed the vein entirely, and I have nice, fat, flat veins. Her supervisor stepped in and dispatched four tubes in no time flat. Good luck, kiddo. Oofah.

#that's the 10th tube drawn in two weeks#molecular draw next after my insurance hopefully approves it
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Some truths on a Tuesday

My amaryllis are finally about to pop off. They remind me of Maj and I miss him with my whole heart.

Therapy’s gonna be something on Thursday. I need a double session.

Working at the little table on the front porch for the second day in a row in March is surreal.

Heard on the We Can Do Hard Things pod about people who say “I am who I am” and refuse to work on themselves…something along the lines of “you’d never say that in response to a request for you to take more training in your job, so why can’t you rise to the occasion in your partner relationship?” Why the fuck indeed.

He’s not single, so that’s good to finally know for sure after six months of assuming/wondering. Peace, friend.

I think I found a solution for my sugar addiction. I bought a little bag of date and coconut rolls at the co-op and one bite makes me gag from how sweet they are and I don’t crave any more sweet at all.

Part of the Ayurveda treatment is to give myself a full-body massage before the shower or bath and not wash the oil off, just let the hot water steam the oil into my skin. It’s a sesame oil with a bunch of herbs in it and I am addicted and my towels are getting destroyed.

I just heard a sneeze and I think it came from under the porch where I’m pretty sure a groundhog lives. Hi little buddy. Stay the fuck out of my vegetable garden, will ya?

Gonna put my big girl pants on and ask my next doors to please stop burning wood that was only cut from the tree four weeks ago. That fire smoked for 5 hours and filled my house even with the windows closed. The hideous cough that had finally abated for two blessed days is back with a vengeance.

I had to put my bed linens from the line in the dryer with a bunch of essential oils on the wool balls to get rid of the smoke stank before I put them back on my bed.

Y’all it’s so crazy beautiful today but so crazy wrong. I heard the vernal pools full of tree frog song and the hawks are mating. Saw an Eastern Bluebird and people jogging in tiny shorts and tanks on March 5th very far from the equator.

#you don’t need a bunch of pointless tags on top of my word barf
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2024 Kelly really misses the energy, vitality, and raw feminine power of 2014 Kelly. I’m trying to heal my way to whatever new version of Kelly wants to emerge from this strange place of fatigue, blood issues, and systemic revolt. May she imbue those qualities with more wisdom.

Anyway, good morning and please enjoy a photo of me feeling sexy and free and showing off my incredible legs. I do still have those thanks to Pilates and a dog who loves long walks. And I still have the hoop. Maybe I’ll play with it while listening to ecstatic dance and house music this weekend. It’s supposed to be warm out.

#February has been a very long year#Covid fucked me up real good#this was not sober Kelly#maybe it was the booze#three years sober over here
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Kris Kristofferson vs. Toby Keith, 2003, as told by Ethan Hawke in Rolling Stone.

STANDING BACKSTAGE AT THE BEACON Theatre in New York, leaning against a crumbling brick wall in the dark, I could barely see Kris Kristofferson standing to my left. Willie Nelson was in the shadows to my right. Ray Charles was standing beside Willie, idly shifting his weight back and forth. A bit farther along the wall were Elvis Costello, Wyclef Jean, Norah Jones, Shelby Lynne, Paul Simon and respective managers, friends and family. Everybody was nervous and tight. We were there for Willie Nelson’s 70th birthday concert in 2003.

Up from the basement came one of country music’s brightest stars (who shall remain nameless). At that moment in time, the Star had a monster radio hit about bombing America’s enemies back into the Stone Age.

“Happy birthday,” the Star said to Willie, breezing by us. As he passed Kristofferson in one long, confident stride, out of the corner of his mouth came “None of that lefty shit out there tonight, Kris.”

“What the luck did you just say to me?” Kris growled, stepping forward.

“Oh, no,” groaned Willie under his breath. “Don’t get Kris all riled up.”

“You heard me,” the Star said, walking away in the darkness.

“Don’t turn your back to me, boy,” Kristofferson shouted, not giving a shit that basically the entire music industry seemed to be flanking him.

The Star turned around: “I don’t want any problems, Kris – I just want you to tone it down.”

“You ever worn your country’s uniform?” Kris asked rhetorically.

“What?”

“Don’t ‘What?’ me, boy! You heard the question. You just don’t like the answer.” He paused just long enough to get a full chest of air. “I asked, ‘Have you ever served your country?’ The answer is, no, you have not. Have you ever killed another man? Huh? Have you ever taken another man’s life and then cashed the check your country gave you for doing it? No, you have not. So shut the fuck up!” I could feel his body pulsing with anger next to me. “You don’t know what the hell you are talking about!”

“Whatever,” the young Star muttered.

Ray Charles stood motionless. Willie Nelson looked at me and shrugged mischievously like a kid in the back of the classroom.

Kristofferson took a deep inhale and leaned against the wall, still vibrating with adrenaline. He looked over at Willie as if to say, “Don’t say a word.” Then his eyes found me.

“You know what Waylon Jennings said about guys like him?” he whispered.

I shook my head.

“‘They’re doin’ to country music what pantyhose did to finger-fuckin’.”

(source)

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kfedup

I saw a Kris Kristofferson solo show here at the Kent Stage a decade or so ago. He was getting over the flu and looked and sounded about as rough as you can imagine, and played with heart to a full house with kitchen chairs stuck on both ends of every row to increase occupancy. Middle aged women (which I am now, too) screamed invitations for him to join them in bed after the show. Panties were thrown. I may have said to my then husband that the man would be welcome to eat crackers in my bed.

Anyway, that is one spectacular human.

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I’ve been sick for a week with some rando virus I picked up taking care of Lila last week when she had it. She tested negative for Covid, Flu A and B and RSV and was feeling much better after 4 rough days.

It’s been a much worse experience for me and I’ve got a Telehealth visit in an hour to hopefully get antibiotics because it’s turned into a sinus infection and I have zero energy to get myself to urgent care. Or to walk the poor dog. Or make myself anything nutritious so I just DoorDash some Mediterranean food - Mujadara, veg soup, a grilled chicken salad, and a fresh carrot and apple juice. That all should get me through tomorrow and Lila will pick up the meds.

Being sick sucks. Grateful for patient clients but also thinking I should prolly consider going back to FT so I have PTO.

I won’t horrify you with what happened in the middle of the night two nights ago when the fever broke other than to say passing out on the toilet is no bueno. Being sick and alone is a special kind of hell.

#virus#sick#as fuck
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slobaum

Nicknameless's blog has been terminated by Tumblr after 14 years here. She's reached out to support, but is unsure if they will respond. She doesn't have anything in her email about the termination. She hadn't had a content warning in over 2 years, and she removed all those re-blogs when requested.

In November she bought the Tumblr Support Badge, she is a long time Tumblr user and supporter.

We would like @support help get her back here with her community of over 14 years. Please reblog this to help get @support attention, and so she can re follow you if she is forced to make a new account in the future.

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kfedup

Hey, @support please fix this!

Friends, please reblog!

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oh, hi

How's everybody doing now that we're out of the holidays/New Year haze? Is anyone else still feeling as if they are the actual fog embodied? Just me?

I've had my head down working on client projects:

  • Web content for 3 websites
  • A series of video scripts and collateral print materials

In between I launched my Substack, Both Things Can Be True, and am concurrently chipping away at a book-length fiction project; a novel if you will.

And sleeping. A lot.

Honestly, I don't understand why I am so tired all the time until I let myself think about it and it's pretty easy to come up with a list that adds up to sleepy Kelly:

  • Winter in Northeast Ohio is a study on living beneath PermaCloud
  • Maybe the cannabis I use for sleep is having a residual effect during the day
  • The climate and lack of progress shifting the whole world away from fossil-fuel dependency
  • I live in a severely gerrymandered state where the legislators continue to ignore the rule of law, rewrite laws to suit their nefarious goals, and ignore the will of the majority
  • Things are equally bad in at least half of the other states, and tolerable states are so far out of my price range for the most meager existence, how the hell does anyone even live in those places?
  • Genocide is once again being funded with our tax dollars

Anywhodle, this is how it goes. Back to your regularly scheduled programming, which I'm sure doesn't include a middle-aged white lady lamenting the fucked up state of things.

I'mma go take a nap.

xx

#seasonal affective disorder#mental health#doing the things anyway#just not very quickly
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Mondaying

  1. Ginger is struggling today. Typically on weekdays she gets to spend a few hours with Bowie at my ex's house. This weekend we put Bowie down. His cancer progressed very quickly over the last few weeks and it was past time. Chris found an incredible retired vet couple who came to the house and helped make it all so kind and normal. Ginger was there and got to sniff him before and after, but she also has limited object permanence and misses her time with her buddy. We all do, sweet girl. We all do.
  2. I really struggled with it. I think I'm through the worst of it, but holy shit I was not expecting how this would bring up so many feelings about my marriage ending. Fuck off, it's been 9 years already. But I realized that I haven't actually cried much about it and hoo boy, this last week has been a real soaker. I once again need to thank Peter Gabriel for opening something in me that's been locked up for years with his amazing i/o concert.
  3. A huge part of the struggle came from having to share the process with his wife and the energy of ownership she brought with her. I wonder if she struggled with my energy, too. I don't care enough to ask. I don't like her. I've never liked her. And earlier in the week we crossed paths and she complained about him to me in a way that seemed like she wanted me to commiserate with her. Over the man she... well... anyway, I'm ready to stop telling that story, so I'll start now and just say some people are too dumb for words.
  4. I just got back from my bi-annual primary care well visit and my doctor and I both agree that I'm doing amazing, sweetie. Most of the long covid shit has finally begun to clear. I'm still having a hard time with cardio/heart rate issues and still getting week-long clusters of ocular migraines, but otherwise, I am better than ever. Coming up on 3 years of sobriety and nearly a year into daily exercise and meditation on top of the long-established dog walks. Sleeping better. Eating slightly less emotionally. Working to bring the meditation practice into the day outside of my sitting time; to walking, cooking, eating, working, listening, talking, or whatever the hell I'm doing in the process of living, is honestly geeking me the fuck out. Planning ahead to do a nice long silent meditation retreat next year.
  5. That said, the wanting/craving for connection is constant. I keep seeing that meme that says something like don't awaken the love in a woman unless you intend to actually work to love her and goddamn. Trying so hard to not be a giant ball of resentment about it, but phew, it realllllly sucks to have someone make the play and then back off.
  6. There's a spectacular golden hour happening right now. We just walked in it for a bit.
  7. What's for dinner? I'm ravenous and I do not want to cook.

Happy Monday, mutuals.

#hangry#want spaghetti and meatballs and iceberg lettuce salad with Italian dressing#monday#middle age#divorce never actually ends#it just goes on and on and on and on and on and on#goodbye good boy Bowie#you were the best doggo
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Let's play a game of "could it be"

• The time change • The Genocide • The GOP • The endless lack of touch in my life • The scheduled euthanasia for Bowie on Saturday • The wind today blowing the leaves I raked back into the yard • The lack of a much-needed hug

?

Let's just let all of them win - it's everything layered one on top of the other making me feel like I just want to unzip this meat suit and step out of it. Instead, I'm going to eat some THC, run a bath, soak in hot water with Epsom salts and essential oils, and read a novel. I should be cleaning my office some more, but I'm fresh out of fucks to give.

#I have the other kind of fucks to give#however#noone to give them to#woe is me#boo hoo#bootstraps and whatever
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