::Let Me Clear My Throat::

Ah, the end of another year is upon us once again, and in true Fontana fashion, it ends on a sour note. I'd say things have come full circle, but in reality, it's been a pretty fuckin' jagged line. Since my blogging habits are so irregular, let's start with what's new. I landed an office manager job in a new company.  The pay leaves much to be desired, but I'm alone all day, it's not busy, my boss makes for amazing eye candy, and he seems to be a decent guy so far who fully sanctions naps on the job. #WINNING I'm still alive and somehow making ends touch. Barely. I have yet to move into a refrigerator box. I turned 40 a week ago. A small handful of people managed to show up for me, so it will be easy to trim the fat now that it's purging season.  It's nice to know who my friends actually are. My daughter turned 21 and still hasn't done anything with her life. She moved her boyfriend in, and they got a dog.  I like both of them more

Sometimes I try to remember what I was like before this. What did it feel like to not feel like I'm drowning all the time.  The dictionary defines depression as "feelings of severe despondency and dejection.". I think the dictionary is either misinformed, or just too polite.  As a person struggling, I can say from experience that it's much worse.  It's a cancer. It's a crawling, growing, insidious intruder, hell bent on sucking every ounce of life out of you until you're nothing more than a shell.  You're a living being, but you're not alive, you just take up space. It's going through your life being able to see and hear everything, but doing so from inside a bubble. It's feeling like you've been tied to a chair and tossed in the water, and everyone is yelling at you to swim. Just swim. I look in the mirror now and don't recognize the person staring back at me.  I go through the motions of living, but it takes so much fuck

Contrary to popular culture, I will not be writing this blog from the outside of a moving car, because that's STUPID. Let's get this show on the road...pun not intended but that's funny anyway. Whatever. Hooooooooooly shitbricks, where do I begin... The last few months have been... challenging. Life has been a minefield, and I've had my face blasted off more times than I'm ok with.  They say things come in threes, and I was hit with a double, and at this point I can say with certainty that getting hit by a bus would have been more convenient. I'll start from the top, since shit rolls downhill. In early July, after being physically, mentally, financially and emotionally wrung the fuck out, I lost my job. On one hand, I was completely blindsided.  I had no warnings, no misconduct, no indication that this was coming.  On the other, for weeks before that, things were rough in the office. I had asked..begged for a raise. I felt justified in asking, I know I d

"I think a person can fall in love millions of times through life in different stages, and I don't deny any of them.  Each one of them had merit, some more than others (I see you, Flaco...)."                             -Me, December 2017 It was a Sunday morning. I woke up warm and entangled, my head on his chest, with bands of tattoos wrapped around me and lips in my hair. The second I opened my eyes and looked up, the world as I knew it was turned completely upside down. Those few minutes are now forever burned into my brain, and things haven't been the same since. For nearly 14 years, I've been lucky enough to have this beautiful man weaved into the fabric of my life. I've taken his presence for granted, keeping my distance to protect myself, and I kick myself for that now. Just looking back on the half dozen posts on this blog that pertain to him make me smile and sad at the same time. I smile because I'm reminded how amazing he was even then..