Early-onset dementia or brain fart?

I was out of the house for 6 1/2 hours today and at about hour 6 I had a moment of panic. I thought for a brief second that maybe I had left Max outside in 90 degree heat. I literally couldn't remember letting him back in right before I left. It made my heart race. I tried desperately to remember some part of the leaving process...I didn't give a treat as usual because he had already had one earlier...I couldn't remember saying "Maxie stays" like I do when he tries to leave with me. Nothing. But, I decided that I must have let him in because, while being the absent-minded professor that I am, I could never FORGET to let my dog back inside before I left. Right?! Also, now that I really think about it, had I actually walked out the front door and to the car, Max would surely have come trotting over to see what the hell was happening. He can get halfway up the walkway between the house and garage and would definitely have noticed me in the driveway. Yes, this is not something that could happen. Ever. For crying out loud. I need a beer. Or two.

Confessions of the chronically single: Part I

Over the past couple of years, I've been doing a lot of thinking about life and relationships in the hopes of figuring some things out. I'm (cough) 30 years old now and the only "long-term" relationship that I've been in was way more off than on and very dysfunctional. For those of you who know what I'm talking about, you'll understand why I put that in quotes. Other than that, there have been practically decade-long crushes in junior high/high school, failed attempts at dating in college, a five year drought of NOTHING and, most recently, four dates over the past year with three guys...none of which went very far. Obviously. I either immediately find something wrong with the guy and then it has no chance or I start thinking too far into the future and freak myself out. Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing. I've gotten really comfortable with my life the way that it is and cannot fathom how a guy would fit into it. Which, obviously, is a big problem. I mean really...I watch A LOT of TV, I pee with the door open and often eat popcorn for dinner. And lunch. I'm generally a good person, but I have my moments. I'm very independent...the thought of having to consider someone else in my decisions is...what's the word? Distressing. I'm self-involved and vain. My mood swings are becoming somewhat legen-wait for it-dary. I have a hard time letting people in. This includes friends and family. I like to keep people at a distance. I don't really know why...it's probably some kind of chemical imbalance or something. Maybe I have mild Asperger's. Or something. I don't know...I don't think that I'm completely socially awkward, but I'm definitely not graceful. I don't do small talk very well, even with my friends. I often come off snobby, disinterested or bored when in actuality I'm just really uncomfortable. So dating someone that I don't already know is really hard for me. I got myself so worked up with the last guy that I thought I might puke or something. I felt like I was going to an interview and as much as I rationally knew that it was fine and not a big deal, my irrational brain won out and I ended up being really weird. Not that I'm not weird...because I am. Just really weird and not myself. What it boils down to is that I'm honestly just not sure if I even want to be in a relationship. Most of the time I'm totally okay with being single. Most of the time. The other times...I'm not sure what it is that I feel like I'm missing. I think that I don't know what that is because I've never really had whatever it is in the first place. Ugh. Whatever. I'm at a loss. I throw my hands up in defeat.

New Year's Purge

Don't fret...I wasn't puking my guts out due to over-indulgence on New Year's Eve (although, I was really tired and pissed off that I had to go to work--even if it wasn't until 3 pm). Nope...I finally went through all of my clothes and am getting rid of everything that I don't wear anymore. And a few things that I probably would wear but really shouldn't. You know...those t-shirts with the silly sayings. Most of them I have no problem getting rid of because they are from so long ago that they are short, almost midriff-baring shirts as opposed the shirts of today that are so long that they can cover your butt if you want them too. But there is one that I still really like because it's green and long, however, it has a big lemon on it and and reads "Squeeze Me" which just doesn't really belong on a (gack) 30 year old woman. Sigh. I did keep a denim mini skirt though...Clinton and Stacy may or may not approve. There is a sign on that show (TLC's What Not To Wear for those of you who don't have any idea who Clinton and Stacy are) that reads "No Mini Skirts after 35" so I think I'm safe...for a few years yet. I don't have an exact tally yet because I'm still washing a couple of items that were wrinkly and/or smelled weird from sitting in a drawer for a few years but here's an estimate:

20+ T-shirts
20+ pairs of pants (dress and casual)
15-20 tank tops
15+ long sleeved shirts and sweaters
12 pairs of shoes
7 purses
6 coats and jackets
4 pairs of jeans
3 belts
3 outfits for a 5 or 6 year old girl (stuff for my niece that never got returned)
2 pairs of gloves
2 sets of sheets
1 comforter
...and a partridge in a pear tree!

It's a lot of stuff...most of which is in really good shape. Several items still have tags...I used to have a minor shopping addiction. Used to. Riiight. I think I'm better at buying clothes that I'll actually wear...not necessarily clothes that I need though. And many of the pairs of shoes have only been one once or twice...or not at all. Goodwill is gonna love me. It feels so good to finally be rid of all of that crap. Or at least to have gotten it out of my closet/dresser. Now...let's hope that I actually get it all out of my house. I am a little annoyed at myself for not having done this before the end of 2008 so that I could use the deduction on my taxes for '08. Procrastination is vintage me...not unlike the pink t-shirt with the monkey butt on the back. Come you guys...you remember that shirt right? Kristy? Let me post a picture of it for you:

It's all coming back to you right? Ha! I frickin' loved that shirt!! Alas...it will give someone else joy now...probably a 13 year old. And she can also wear my tiny, tiny jeans with the zippered pockets. I can still squeeze into them since they are stretchy, but they give me uni-butt. Definition: Pants so tight on the butt that it looks like one big cheek instead of two distinct cheeks. Not that I would wear them anyway...not very chic...but they fit. Sort of. Whatever. I'm pooped...and hungry. I'm gonna go make dinner. Later.

Unstable, nervous, anxious...

Neurotic is defined, as a noun, as 'a person prone to excessive anxiety and emotional upset' or 'a person afflicted with a neurosis or tending to be emotionally unstable'. This has apparently become a good way to decribe me as a person. I've become a neurotic crazy person. I can only hope that I did not completely scare off the musician (aka my date). I've got my fingers crossed. I'm not going to go into any great detail because I really don't want to talk about it. Let's just say that I let the crazy out and I was hoping to keep it under wraps longer than this. Seriously...I may need to be medicated.

My brain is broken.

I can't decide what to go back to school for. I think this may indicate that I shouldn't go back at all. Shouldn't one have a solid idea before making the decision? I long for the days of undergrad where you can be 'undecided' and still apply, and be accepted, to your school of choice. Where you can take general classes in a variety of subjects until you find one that piques your interest. Ugh. I'm getting a headache, an ulcer, and getting very close to completely shutting down. I've gone from environmental science to ecology to conservation biology to microbiology to epidemiology to journalism (threw that one in for variety). I work in the medical field and now am uncertain of if I want to get out of it entirely. I like being in the know and all that, but at the same time, it's not what I intended to do in the first place so I should be okay with leaving. Also, I don't want to feel like I've wasted the past 6 years working in microbiology, and I fear that if I leave the field, I will. Talk about quarter-life crisis. Maybe I should just give it all up and become a starving artist. Oh, that's right, I have no artistic ability. Save from writing. Writing does not pay the bills. Unless you are a journalist or something, hence the thought of journalism. I've tried a couple of career quizzes online and I've been told that I would like to be in administration...does that sound like me? I think not. I took one that involved choosing colors that you like to look at and was told that my 1st occupation choice would be as a creator (non-conformist, free-spirit, creative) and that my 2nd choice would be as an organizer (conformist, blah, blah) which to me is pretty much the polar opposite of creator. Argh. I'm bi-polar. And all this time I thought I was just depressed. Ha. Ha. I may need someone to make this decision for me. Any takers?