ever didn't pay the homeowners insurance bill.
so i'm splitting him off of my account.
and i put $500 aside in savings today. i'm up to $800. this is getting exciting, because it means i'm close to going home. $900 was my goal. and i still have 45 days until my trip. iiieeeee!
i can now pay my rent when i don't get paid to be on vacation.
i've been nauseous all day, because it is friday, and i have a very real plan to go see if that boy is at favorite bar, same day and time as last week.
i kept having random thoughts about it today while i was driving all over for work. and having heart flutters and sick pangs in my gut. it was awful. yet, i was smiling about it.
i woke up with a migraine. i know it's the usual hormone headache, but the fact that i came home drunk last night after two beers with kit definitely didn't help.
i felt like shit, as is the case most fridays, when i know that i can stay up late and drink more and sleep in.
god, i had another awesome dream last night.
and i actually woke up at 430 and fell asleep and continued the dream! it was awesome.
it went something like this:
i dreamed a name this time. terry mcadams. obviously this is not a person in my life. or anyone i have met. if it is a celebrity name, that would make some sense.
i don't like the name terry, but whatever.
so i was hanging out with a bunch of people in a big house. i think sam was there. a few other people.
and one of the girls liked this guy and invited him over. but he liked me. it didn't register until the end of the dream that i'd done a pretty dick thing to one of my girl friends. i don't remember now who it was.
he had tattooes. a lot of them. on his forearm, he had this crooked hand.
he was a bike guy, so he had that flat bike tool on him all the time. at the end of my dream, he'd left it at my place, and i returned it to him.
we all went swimming in a lake, diving off a dock. the lake had lilypads almost to the surface of the water, it was freaky and gross swimming through them. you couldn't swim on the surface and not feel them.
at some point he kissed me.
then we were making out for a while, on the floor in my living room, which wasn't really my living room. and i said that my room was a mess, but we could lay on the bed instead, to be more comfortable.
he was part of some group. like greenpeace or something.
and i was thinking we were about to have sex, and all these people he knows come into my place, for a meeting or something. try to recruit me. and this guy found this box of cookie cutters and donut cutters in my apartment, and started making donuts for us.
i woke up at some point to pee, and when i went back to sleep, the dream continued.
i kept asking him to do something the next day, and he kept saying he had something to do. i guess i was so excited about meeting him that i kept forgetting.
and at some point, i realized that i was probably upsetting the girl who liked him by moving in on her man, but in a way i didn't care because he was so awesome.
and i kept tihnking that he was going to end up being a jerk, but he wasn't.
and the house was across the street from my apartment, and i didnt have curtains, so i was afraid ever would see everything. then realized in my sleep that wasn't possible, because the house and the apartment weren't on the same street.
i woke up warm, wrapped up in my comforter, and with a pillow over my head. it was awesome. except for the migraine.
so i got up, took some motrin, and tried to sleep until it worked. i probably laid in bed in the dark for 45 minutes until it went away. it made me feel sick.
then to my store, then suck store, then the office, then back to my store, then home.
now i'm commencing friday rituals. clean the apartment. clean myself up. and to the bar at 1030 or 11.
my fingers are crossed.
i really really REALLY hope he goes back. not even to try to see me. but just happens to be there.
i'll hit him over the head with a frying pan this time, i swear.
i'll leave nothing to chance this time.
i'll do my best to bring him home with me.
i really want to make out. all these dreams and everything. it's killing me to wake up from that alone. just this boy. just this night.
please please please? stars. please. just align already.
kit brought 500 days of summer to me last night.
told me not to watch it unless he doesn't show up tonight.
i might beat her to the punch and watch it after i clean. to kill time. i hate waiting. i hate killing time. and the hormonal state of my being right now could really use a good cry, and i'm afraid to watch this movie regardless, and i am certain it will make me cry, even though i know nothing about it.
i absolutely refuse to sit there for more than one beer alone tonight. night 6 of 7 in the last week.
so i have to time it right, not like halloween eve.
and kit also instructed me to talk to hot bartender. she thinks he feels left out, because we are friends with every other person there. i'm not supposed to know his name, so i'll introduce myself and see what happens. she talked to him about his wedding one night when she was there when i wasn't, because she hadn't really talked to him at length either.
and she said he seemed happy to talk and be talked to.
so i guess, even if tim doesn't appear, i can always talk to hot bartender through the course of a beer.
and i think sam is off because of her birthday, so i am totally on my own tonight. which i hate. but will pretend that i don't.
fake it til i make it.
mmhmm.
kit was getting frustrated with coaching me last night.
she wants to help me, but is struggling to work under these conditions.
first of all, i'm a serial monogamist (which is a fun word to try to say when you're druuuunk). and there was this hot guy who smelled incredible sitting next to me last night. and she was nudging me to tell him. of course, i waited until he was leaving, to avoid embarrassing myself and then having to sit next to him while he finished his beer.
so i touched his (mmmm) arm as he was leaving, and said 'you smell really good'.
and kit was coming back from the bathroom and said he smiled all the way out the door, what did i say to him?
and she yelled at me (not really) for not doing it earlier to have conversation.
whatever. he seemed like the type of guy who knows he looks and smells good. plus, all i can think about is tim, so whatever.
i will never succeed at this game, i know. and i'm okay with that. because i don't care to be good at it.
i will protect my heart as much as i can. which is what i'm doing by only trying to have one conversation with one boy at one time.
i'm not going to try to talk to five guys, because that is five possible rejections, and i am not strong enough to endure that.
and i won't pursue something. really, i don't pursue anything, because then i don't have to put myself out there. i like letting it come to me. only it never does. but it's better than being shot down, in my eyes.
tim is different. i'm encouraged enough by his interaction with me to feel like it's a safe bet.
a sure thing.
light a candle for me. think toward thoughts. i need all the help i can get.
drained and strained. november 4th.
i am pretty stressed out.
i feel like a taut wire.
i can hear that metal stretching sound in my mind. like when you tune a guitar and tighten the string too far.
tomorrow is my day to sleep in, so i'm pretty happy about that.
this morning, my alarm went off at 545, as planned.
but i knew i'd been getting to suck store early, so i hit snooze. knowing i could a couple more times, if i wanted.
fuck it. it's almost over. i can show up late if i want.
and my phone rang.
gave me a heart attack.
i was thinking, 'oh no, oh no' that someone was calling out or something.
it was this guy saying he was trying to get into my location and he was supposed to start work today.
i told him he had the wrong number. and went back to bed pissed.
was laying there about five minutes, and my phone rings again. same number.
'hey. i just told you. you have the wrong number.'
'well, i'm here with someone who works for you.'
and he hands her the phone as my 550 am brain thinks whaaaaa?
'hey, ash?'
'no. i told him he has the wrong number.'
hung up.
gave up on the snooze button.
who does that?
so i decided i'll give him a call at like 2 in the morning when i'm awake.
and ask for pedro or something.
and when he says i have the wrong number, i'll wait for him to fall back asleep.
and then call again.
that was how my day started.
it was pouring. so i drove over there, and accident. traffic.
i was already worked up about working the store, because i knew cat did a good job of telling people yesterday that we were getting kicked out.
and i was sad to have to interact with all of these people.
and the anger was bubbling up.
and right off the bat, customer number one was talking about it.
i knew it was going to be a bad day. well, a rough day.
and people were getting angrier and angrier.
and those fuckers were in the room we're in, walking around, looking at their side and at our side from their side, and being douchey.
and one of my customers saw them, and went up to them to tell them how she felt about it.
and then a set of two radiologists did the same thing.
and i knew i was in for it.
sure enough, tony (captain douchecanoe) left, and joe (assistant to the regional douchecanoe) came over and told me that tony said we can't use the language we're using to tell people that we're getting kicked out.
he approached me, 'hey, tea. how are you today?'
and i just looked at him. with death glare eyes. 'great.'
'i need to talk to you.'
i'm facing the wall, washing dishes.
'i'm listening. what is it?'
blah blah, language.
'look. you were sitting right there when he told us we have to leave. i'm being as pc as possible by saying that you're asking us to leave, when we're being forced out. we're not going to leave here without telling our customers what is going on. this is not our choice. he was a jerk, and he's lucky i'm not telling them everything he said in that meeting. you were there. you know what was said.'
'well, he is telling me, i'm in the middle.'
'right. and kenna is telling me, i'm in the middle, too. sounds to me like someone should be calling kenna. because i'm doing what i'm told. and being nicer than i want to be.'
oh my god. shaking mad.
he walked away and i got louder and more descriptive with the customers. if he had left me alone, things would have gone smoother.
and the two of them, breakfast, and again at lunch.
i wish they would choke.
i came home starving, because i refused to spend money on their food. i had a croissant at work in the morning, but couldn't justify cake for lunch, so i just had nothing. it sucked. i was so mad, i almost dropped like $15 to get pizza delivered in there, just to show them how i felt and prove a point. but i didn't.
i just don't know how people can be so inconsiderate and disrespectful, and then think they will get their wishes respected. kenna gave me permission to say things differently than i was. but i just hope they hear about this for months after we're gone.
three customers is nothing. they were three polite ones, too. in a way, i don't want people to put up a fight, because i want out. now. but i hope they give them the biggest rash of shit ever over this.
i need to not think about it. i was immersed in it all day today, and by the time my day was over, i'd almost forgotten that it was my responsibility to remove TEN CRATES of milk from the store. cat had ordered 12 gallons. they sent 12 cases (48 gallons). so i had to take it to my store.
so after dealing with all of that anger and frustration, it took an extra 40 minutes to get the fuck out of there. and then i had to go to my store instead of home to unpack it all and put it in the store.
seriously awful. and kenna wanted me to tell her details, so instead of smoking on my drive home, i had to have the windows up with speakerphone on.
i don't know. i came in, had ramen, and got my umbrella and went out for a smoke. and came inside, feeling like it was time for bed, because of how completely drained and exhausted i was. and it was 630.
i am a grandma. i can't wait for the time change.
i don't know.
after just last night getting sucked into 'the middle' and watching the three episodes of this season, tonight when i went to watch the fourth? gone! not on hulu anymore. not on abc anymore.
what the shit? why does this happen to me??
so now i struggle to find them elsewhere online. i can't believe this is the second season. it seems like the first.
it's awesome in any case. they'd better put them back online.
and after all of this angsty stressed stuff, i'd also like to add that it is about that time again.
i was telling nina the other night that i just can't help but to wonder if this is hormonal stuff happening.
and she said to figure it out, because i never write it down or pay attention.
yeah. so.
perfect storm sitting in this apartment.
and i would also like to thank nina.
sitting at suck store today, after the chew out from assistant douchecanoe, i got an email.
i cried at work.
she took my again & again post. and rewrote it for me.
seriously? it made me laugh and cry and laugh and cry again.
it was a lot to take in.
and then i got not one, but two emails from brownies.
so i kept myself distracted between tantrums.
oh, and? i got an appointment with the shrink.
it's not until november 29th, but if i can get there before that, i will. and if not, it's a failsafe.
it's going to be thanksgiving soon.
i'm going to be shutting down a store. again. soon.
and moving it. soon. and opening a new store. again. soon.
i'm so fucking tired. i don't know how i'm going to do it at all.
maybe this is going to be my thanksgiving week.
i am feeling ingrateful, if that is the case.
then again, with a 33% reduction in locations to manage, i'll be thankful to have a job.
i need to be in touch with the lawyer again.
i've fought the urge every single day to look at the mortgage site, because i know that there is no way in hell he could possibly have paid it yet.
but i think i will tonight. and email the lawyer to see if we get an emergency hearing or what.
ever's got the right idea. head in the sand trick really keeps the stress from my personal life at bay.
i think i'm doing this all wrong...
i feel like a taut wire.
i can hear that metal stretching sound in my mind. like when you tune a guitar and tighten the string too far.
tomorrow is my day to sleep in, so i'm pretty happy about that.
this morning, my alarm went off at 545, as planned.
but i knew i'd been getting to suck store early, so i hit snooze. knowing i could a couple more times, if i wanted.
fuck it. it's almost over. i can show up late if i want.
and my phone rang.
gave me a heart attack.
i was thinking, 'oh no, oh no' that someone was calling out or something.
it was this guy saying he was trying to get into my location and he was supposed to start work today.
i told him he had the wrong number. and went back to bed pissed.
was laying there about five minutes, and my phone rings again. same number.
'hey. i just told you. you have the wrong number.'
'well, i'm here with someone who works for you.'
and he hands her the phone as my 550 am brain thinks whaaaaa?
'hey, ash?'
'no. i told him he has the wrong number.'
hung up.
gave up on the snooze button.
who does that?
so i decided i'll give him a call at like 2 in the morning when i'm awake.
and ask for pedro or something.
and when he says i have the wrong number, i'll wait for him to fall back asleep.
and then call again.
that was how my day started.
it was pouring. so i drove over there, and accident. traffic.
i was already worked up about working the store, because i knew cat did a good job of telling people yesterday that we were getting kicked out.
and i was sad to have to interact with all of these people.
and the anger was bubbling up.
and right off the bat, customer number one was talking about it.
i knew it was going to be a bad day. well, a rough day.
and people were getting angrier and angrier.
and those fuckers were in the room we're in, walking around, looking at their side and at our side from their side, and being douchey.
and one of my customers saw them, and went up to them to tell them how she felt about it.
and then a set of two radiologists did the same thing.
and i knew i was in for it.
sure enough, tony (captain douchecanoe) left, and joe (assistant to the regional douchecanoe) came over and told me that tony said we can't use the language we're using to tell people that we're getting kicked out.
he approached me, 'hey, tea. how are you today?'
and i just looked at him. with death glare eyes. 'great.'
'i need to talk to you.'
i'm facing the wall, washing dishes.
'i'm listening. what is it?'
blah blah, language.
'look. you were sitting right there when he told us we have to leave. i'm being as pc as possible by saying that you're asking us to leave, when we're being forced out. we're not going to leave here without telling our customers what is going on. this is not our choice. he was a jerk, and he's lucky i'm not telling them everything he said in that meeting. you were there. you know what was said.'
'well, he is telling me, i'm in the middle.'
'right. and kenna is telling me, i'm in the middle, too. sounds to me like someone should be calling kenna. because i'm doing what i'm told. and being nicer than i want to be.'
oh my god. shaking mad.
he walked away and i got louder and more descriptive with the customers. if he had left me alone, things would have gone smoother.
and the two of them, breakfast, and again at lunch.
i wish they would choke.
i came home starving, because i refused to spend money on their food. i had a croissant at work in the morning, but couldn't justify cake for lunch, so i just had nothing. it sucked. i was so mad, i almost dropped like $15 to get pizza delivered in there, just to show them how i felt and prove a point. but i didn't.
i just don't know how people can be so inconsiderate and disrespectful, and then think they will get their wishes respected. kenna gave me permission to say things differently than i was. but i just hope they hear about this for months after we're gone.
three customers is nothing. they were three polite ones, too. in a way, i don't want people to put up a fight, because i want out. now. but i hope they give them the biggest rash of shit ever over this.
i need to not think about it. i was immersed in it all day today, and by the time my day was over, i'd almost forgotten that it was my responsibility to remove TEN CRATES of milk from the store. cat had ordered 12 gallons. they sent 12 cases (48 gallons). so i had to take it to my store.
so after dealing with all of that anger and frustration, it took an extra 40 minutes to get the fuck out of there. and then i had to go to my store instead of home to unpack it all and put it in the store.
seriously awful. and kenna wanted me to tell her details, so instead of smoking on my drive home, i had to have the windows up with speakerphone on.
i don't know. i came in, had ramen, and got my umbrella and went out for a smoke. and came inside, feeling like it was time for bed, because of how completely drained and exhausted i was. and it was 630.
i am a grandma. i can't wait for the time change.
i don't know.
after just last night getting sucked into 'the middle' and watching the three episodes of this season, tonight when i went to watch the fourth? gone! not on hulu anymore. not on abc anymore.
what the shit? why does this happen to me??
so now i struggle to find them elsewhere online. i can't believe this is the second season. it seems like the first.
it's awesome in any case. they'd better put them back online.
and after all of this angsty stressed stuff, i'd also like to add that it is about that time again.
i was telling nina the other night that i just can't help but to wonder if this is hormonal stuff happening.
and she said to figure it out, because i never write it down or pay attention.
yeah. so.
perfect storm sitting in this apartment.
and i would also like to thank nina.
sitting at suck store today, after the chew out from assistant douchecanoe, i got an email.
i cried at work.
she took my again & again post. and rewrote it for me.
seriously? it made me laugh and cry and laugh and cry again.
it was a lot to take in.
and then i got not one, but two emails from brownies.
so i kept myself distracted between tantrums.
oh, and? i got an appointment with the shrink.
it's not until november 29th, but if i can get there before that, i will. and if not, it's a failsafe.
it's going to be thanksgiving soon.
i'm going to be shutting down a store. again. soon.
and moving it. soon. and opening a new store. again. soon.
i'm so fucking tired. i don't know how i'm going to do it at all.
maybe this is going to be my thanksgiving week.
i am feeling ingrateful, if that is the case.
then again, with a 33% reduction in locations to manage, i'll be thankful to have a job.
i need to be in touch with the lawyer again.
i've fought the urge every single day to look at the mortgage site, because i know that there is no way in hell he could possibly have paid it yet.
but i think i will tonight. and email the lawyer to see if we get an emergency hearing or what.
ever's got the right idea. head in the sand trick really keeps the stress from my personal life at bay.
i think i'm doing this all wrong...
homeostasis. november 3rd.
to the things i'm suspending disbelief about tonight, i'm adding corbett and toomey to the pile.
oh, pennsylvania. shame on you.
another thing. that dickwad who is kicking us out of suck store is 'upset' that we wasted no time in telling our customers. seems dr dug found out while tony was in his proximity. and gave him an earful. pretty awesome.
tomorrow i'll be in the thick of it.
it ought to be interesting. god help him if he speaks to me. i don't know if i'll be able to control myself.
kenna flew home tonight. back to her life, and i have the longest to do list in my paper journal.
it was a crazy trip. from telling her about moving to losing the store that she is emotionally attached to. we did end on a high note, but i can't help feeling like she went home feeling like she is losing control of her business.
she was really good to me. and i feel better than i should.
last night, i alternated between thinking about seeing that boy again, and the suck store situation.
i didn't sleep well.
lots of tossing and turning.
i watched a nova that i knew i shouldn't have. luckily it didn't give me nightmares. it was about the space shuttle disasters.
challenger and columbia.
living in florida, these things are especially heavy for me.
i watched challenger blow up from my elementary school sidewalk.
in the third grade.
it was traumatic.
and columbia happened right before i got married. i saw the whole thing on tv at the lexus dealership where i was working.
the end of that documentary was especially depressing, and when i closed out the window and went back to fb, national geographic had posted a link about discovery's final flight.
it was a little too timely.
then kit told me about the election results.
and i was so tired i couldn't get up to smoke, but as i tried to fall asleep, sleep evaded me.
thinking about walking up to the bar and him being there made me smile hugely in bed.
thinking about what i would say or do.
going through conversation in my mind. essentially writing another coffee-esque short story while i was laying there.
i won't screw it up this time. i swear.
all i need is just one more chance.
all i can do is hope that, on friday, he is there at the same time. so i can set things right.
tell him he's cute. ask him to hang out. give him my number. or all of the above.
i was laying there last night, thinking about how much fun would be made of me if anyone knew my thoughts.
for example: if i don't want to date, do i have to say things differently? do i tell him i like him if i don't want anything substantial from him?
do i have to say anything at all?
do i just go for it and kiss him? i don't think i've ever just kissed a boy. isn't that insane? i always wait for them to make a move.
this isn't just about boy from friday. i mean, today it is. but if i never see him again, i still need this information.
i started watching 'the middle' tonight.
i love patricia heaton. and janitor from scrubs. the daughter on the show is exactly who i was at that age, and it freaks me out completely to think of myself back then, kindof like how i think of myself at nineteen in the throes of coffeetime.
part of making my costume this year was getting over my fear of wings. ever since those stupid fucking sadie hawkins day wings i wore far too often in those days.
i have a picture of myself, standing on top of my car wearing them when it died and was being towed away. because they were in it.
i had to make these wings and trust that i won't flip out, think i'm cloud ten-ing again, and start wearing them around town.
part of me wants to hang them on the wall. and part of them thinks that is just weird.
and part of me thinks i'm crazy.
so i saw robbie today.
he brought us some food that didn't make the delivery this morning.
i went to give him a hug, as i always do. and he didn't kiss my cheek like he normally does, but when i broke from the hug, he was still holding on to me. it was a first.
i do love that man.
and some of the time, i do have little daydreams about running away with him. in a very smitten way, but also in a way that can't even imagine kissing him. i could if i really tried. but really nothing beyond that.
even in my most heated days of want, i can't put him in that place.
but i'd sleep next to him happily.
i think that getting a little crazy over boy from friday is making me doubt myself again.
i realized it today, unlocking the door to my apartment when i came home from work.
i look for him everywhere.
and last night kit said something about me going to all the doors in a 1.5 block radius of favorite bar until i find him.
and i hadn't thought of doing it. but i have been waiting for him to walk by or knock on my door since that night.
he was given much more specific instructions as to where i live.
but when i unlocked the door, it just made me realize that i am going through the same mental processes. i just don't follow through like i used to.
before, i would wonder if a boy was around, and i'd do a drive by to see. now, i think 'i bet he's over there right now'. and i keep thinking about it, but i don't walk over to see.
i guess last night was day five in a row at favorite bar. last friday, obviously. then halloween. then brunch with kit. then happy hour on monday. and last night to talk to sam.
last night was just too much. it made me feel like people there were starting to wonder if i ever don't go there. or why they had seen me there every single day.
even though the shifts switch around so that i am the only one who notices who is on and off, and they wouldn't know that i'd been there every day, because none of them had been.
i just got thrown off by a text from the writer.
i need to regain my train of thought here.
i think that what i'm trying to say is that i'm equally obsessed, as i have always been, about boys.
i meet one guy for two hours one night, and i want him to knock down my door and kiss me like in a movie.
i want to circle the neighborhood and look for him. i want to be there every day, so that i have a better chance of running into him again.
these are the things that make me feel insane.
especially because i have a pretty good idea of what will happen next.
it won't be a chalk thing. i had too much fun for that. i was hanging on his every word, and meeting his eyes.
i don't want to drag him here and have my way with him, i want to talk all night and fall asleep next to him.
it is the wrong thing to do. it is the wrong approach. the chalk thing is the way to handle my current situation. there is zero risk of falling. it is cut and dry. it keeps me honest, and keeps me alone for the year i know i need.
which is why i kinda hope i don't see him again. it would be another conor thing.
i could just say, 'oh, well.' and put it out of my mind.
this boy was different.
he made me giggle.
he giggled.
i think that after being in a dysfunctional relationship for so long, i just can't
get enough of the fun of it.
ever just wasn't that guy. he wasn't fun. he was serious, and depressed, and a hermit.
i just want to have fun.
but this is exactly the type of boy that i'll get smitten with, under the pretense of just wanting to have some fun. i mean, i kindof already am, and i don't even know his last name!
do boys freak out when you drop the divorce bomb on them?
'i'm not looking for anything serious. i'm going through a divorce right now.'
is that a no-no?
i mean, it's now a part of me. and it feels like a bit of a scarlet letter. like i'm branded, and i can't not say it.
when people break up with their boyfriends of years, how long do they wait to get back in the game? this feels so different than that. i never waited between boyfriends before, so i just don't know these things. a husband is not a boyfriend, so is there even any similarity?
pretty soon, i'm going to have to make a shrink appointment. maybe i can get one for monday, since i'm working suck store for cat. hopefully she has one available.
i feel like i need a life coach.
i feel like a retard.
how can i not know these things?
i just feel completely lost in all of this stuff, and unable to stop with the beer every night, and today walking my bike to work, smoking, i realized that i'm pretty dehydrated. and that it's probably what's causing my dizzy spells.
i just can't drink water. i know that is a dumb thing to say, but i can't. i drink coffee at work. and herbal iced tea when i feel dried out. and then come home and try to have a glass of water or sugarfree lemonade (which is the only way i really get water into my system). before two beers.
which are pretty watery pbr's. but still.
i just feel myself getting slower, eating worse food (i'm now on the microwave burrito and frozen pizza and fries at hom kick), clothes getting tighter, smoking more, struggling to bike.
and despite knowing all of these things are horrible and that this is no way to live and that i feel shitty, i have no fucking motivation to stop the madness.
you'd think that the prospect of getting naked in front of a cute boy would scare me into it, but it just doesn't.
nothing makes me want to ditch the all carb diet.
not seeing a disgusting picture of myself that kenna took. nothing.
i have got to gain some control over my life.
i have to want to first.
i want to wear those skinny jeans again. i feel so far from that right now.
all it would take is like a week of being committed. and i just don't have it in me.
i'm pretty dumb.
i want to slap sense into myself. but it won't even work.
i'm up past my bedtime. 545 is going to fucking BLOW in the morning.
peace out.
oh, pennsylvania. shame on you.
another thing. that dickwad who is kicking us out of suck store is 'upset' that we wasted no time in telling our customers. seems dr dug found out while tony was in his proximity. and gave him an earful. pretty awesome.
tomorrow i'll be in the thick of it.
it ought to be interesting. god help him if he speaks to me. i don't know if i'll be able to control myself.
kenna flew home tonight. back to her life, and i have the longest to do list in my paper journal.
it was a crazy trip. from telling her about moving to losing the store that she is emotionally attached to. we did end on a high note, but i can't help feeling like she went home feeling like she is losing control of her business.
she was really good to me. and i feel better than i should.
last night, i alternated between thinking about seeing that boy again, and the suck store situation.
i didn't sleep well.
lots of tossing and turning.
i watched a nova that i knew i shouldn't have. luckily it didn't give me nightmares. it was about the space shuttle disasters.
challenger and columbia.
living in florida, these things are especially heavy for me.
i watched challenger blow up from my elementary school sidewalk.
in the third grade.
it was traumatic.
and columbia happened right before i got married. i saw the whole thing on tv at the lexus dealership where i was working.
the end of that documentary was especially depressing, and when i closed out the window and went back to fb, national geographic had posted a link about discovery's final flight.
it was a little too timely.
then kit told me about the election results.
and i was so tired i couldn't get up to smoke, but as i tried to fall asleep, sleep evaded me.
thinking about walking up to the bar and him being there made me smile hugely in bed.
thinking about what i would say or do.
going through conversation in my mind. essentially writing another coffee-esque short story while i was laying there.
i won't screw it up this time. i swear.
all i need is just one more chance.
all i can do is hope that, on friday, he is there at the same time. so i can set things right.
tell him he's cute. ask him to hang out. give him my number. or all of the above.
i was laying there last night, thinking about how much fun would be made of me if anyone knew my thoughts.
for example: if i don't want to date, do i have to say things differently? do i tell him i like him if i don't want anything substantial from him?
do i have to say anything at all?
do i just go for it and kiss him? i don't think i've ever just kissed a boy. isn't that insane? i always wait for them to make a move.
this isn't just about boy from friday. i mean, today it is. but if i never see him again, i still need this information.
i started watching 'the middle' tonight.
i love patricia heaton. and janitor from scrubs. the daughter on the show is exactly who i was at that age, and it freaks me out completely to think of myself back then, kindof like how i think of myself at nineteen in the throes of coffeetime.
part of making my costume this year was getting over my fear of wings. ever since those stupid fucking sadie hawkins day wings i wore far too often in those days.
i have a picture of myself, standing on top of my car wearing them when it died and was being towed away. because they were in it.
i had to make these wings and trust that i won't flip out, think i'm cloud ten-ing again, and start wearing them around town.
part of me wants to hang them on the wall. and part of them thinks that is just weird.
and part of me thinks i'm crazy.
so i saw robbie today.
he brought us some food that didn't make the delivery this morning.
i went to give him a hug, as i always do. and he didn't kiss my cheek like he normally does, but when i broke from the hug, he was still holding on to me. it was a first.
i do love that man.
and some of the time, i do have little daydreams about running away with him. in a very smitten way, but also in a way that can't even imagine kissing him. i could if i really tried. but really nothing beyond that.
even in my most heated days of want, i can't put him in that place.
but i'd sleep next to him happily.
i think that getting a little crazy over boy from friday is making me doubt myself again.
i realized it today, unlocking the door to my apartment when i came home from work.
i look for him everywhere.
and last night kit said something about me going to all the doors in a 1.5 block radius of favorite bar until i find him.
and i hadn't thought of doing it. but i have been waiting for him to walk by or knock on my door since that night.
he was given much more specific instructions as to where i live.
but when i unlocked the door, it just made me realize that i am going through the same mental processes. i just don't follow through like i used to.
before, i would wonder if a boy was around, and i'd do a drive by to see. now, i think 'i bet he's over there right now'. and i keep thinking about it, but i don't walk over to see.
i guess last night was day five in a row at favorite bar. last friday, obviously. then halloween. then brunch with kit. then happy hour on monday. and last night to talk to sam.
last night was just too much. it made me feel like people there were starting to wonder if i ever don't go there. or why they had seen me there every single day.
even though the shifts switch around so that i am the only one who notices who is on and off, and they wouldn't know that i'd been there every day, because none of them had been.
i just got thrown off by a text from the writer.
i need to regain my train of thought here.
i think that what i'm trying to say is that i'm equally obsessed, as i have always been, about boys.
i meet one guy for two hours one night, and i want him to knock down my door and kiss me like in a movie.
i want to circle the neighborhood and look for him. i want to be there every day, so that i have a better chance of running into him again.
these are the things that make me feel insane.
especially because i have a pretty good idea of what will happen next.
it won't be a chalk thing. i had too much fun for that. i was hanging on his every word, and meeting his eyes.
i don't want to drag him here and have my way with him, i want to talk all night and fall asleep next to him.
it is the wrong thing to do. it is the wrong approach. the chalk thing is the way to handle my current situation. there is zero risk of falling. it is cut and dry. it keeps me honest, and keeps me alone for the year i know i need.
which is why i kinda hope i don't see him again. it would be another conor thing.
i could just say, 'oh, well.' and put it out of my mind.
this boy was different.
he made me giggle.
he giggled.
i think that after being in a dysfunctional relationship for so long, i just can't
get enough of the fun of it.
ever just wasn't that guy. he wasn't fun. he was serious, and depressed, and a hermit.
i just want to have fun.
but this is exactly the type of boy that i'll get smitten with, under the pretense of just wanting to have some fun. i mean, i kindof already am, and i don't even know his last name!
do boys freak out when you drop the divorce bomb on them?
'i'm not looking for anything serious. i'm going through a divorce right now.'
is that a no-no?
i mean, it's now a part of me. and it feels like a bit of a scarlet letter. like i'm branded, and i can't not say it.
when people break up with their boyfriends of years, how long do they wait to get back in the game? this feels so different than that. i never waited between boyfriends before, so i just don't know these things. a husband is not a boyfriend, so is there even any similarity?
pretty soon, i'm going to have to make a shrink appointment. maybe i can get one for monday, since i'm working suck store for cat. hopefully she has one available.
i feel like i need a life coach.
i feel like a retard.
how can i not know these things?
i just feel completely lost in all of this stuff, and unable to stop with the beer every night, and today walking my bike to work, smoking, i realized that i'm pretty dehydrated. and that it's probably what's causing my dizzy spells.
i just can't drink water. i know that is a dumb thing to say, but i can't. i drink coffee at work. and herbal iced tea when i feel dried out. and then come home and try to have a glass of water or sugarfree lemonade (which is the only way i really get water into my system). before two beers.
which are pretty watery pbr's. but still.
i just feel myself getting slower, eating worse food (i'm now on the microwave burrito and frozen pizza and fries at hom kick), clothes getting tighter, smoking more, struggling to bike.
and despite knowing all of these things are horrible and that this is no way to live and that i feel shitty, i have no fucking motivation to stop the madness.
you'd think that the prospect of getting naked in front of a cute boy would scare me into it, but it just doesn't.
nothing makes me want to ditch the all carb diet.
not seeing a disgusting picture of myself that kenna took. nothing.
i have got to gain some control over my life.
i have to want to first.
i want to wear those skinny jeans again. i feel so far from that right now.
all it would take is like a week of being committed. and i just don't have it in me.
i'm pretty dumb.
i want to slap sense into myself. but it won't even work.
i'm up past my bedtime. 545 is going to fucking BLOW in the morning.
peace out.
rtw 60. 11/2/10
to grandmother's house.
grandma and grandpa.
some of my earliest memories are of my grandparents.
i differentiate between sets by calling them mean and nice.
my mom's parent are nice, my dad's parents are mean.
nice grandma used to babysit me when i was little, when my mom worked at the bank between having me and my brother.
i used to make mudpies in her backyard.
everyday, before mom came home, she'd hose me off and one of our 'things' was saying
'oh, no, mr bill'.
i don't know why. but to this day, she still says it, and makes me crinkle my nose at her, because it takes her back to when i was small.
i remember mean grandma having me over for the night around that same age when she still lived in florida. she'd have coffee on, all day and all night. and she'd let me have tiny cups of coffee with lots of milk and sugar. i drank it lukewarm. the only time in my life i ever drank coffee that wasn't on ice.
and i'd watch he man, and later at night, we'd watch hee haw, and dallas.
random.
mean grandpa was always nice to me. i guess i was his favorite. i don't remember them fighting back then, though i'm sure they did. getting older, i found out he was an alcoholic in those days, and would take trips to the trunk of his car to drink whiskey out of the bottle.
i also remember him, years later, in virginia where they lived for almost 30 years, making popcorn on the stove. huge batches dumped into paper bags, with real butter and lots of salt. i think this is where i developed my addiction.
it's sad that i spent part of my trip home this summer visiting him in a hospital, and then the nursing home. he's in the last ugly stages of alzheimers now. it sucks. he doesn't even know who i am anymore.
mean grandma was the one who would rat us out to mom when she picked us up.
and who committed the unforgivable sin of taking my paper journal, when i was in college, and on vacation with the family. she read it, and scratched out things i'd written about her that were less than complimentary, and told my mom that she should read what i wrote about her (which i hadn't done).
nice grandma and grandpa were the ones who would sneak us treats, and tell us not to tell our mother.
they also let us live in their house when my brother died, while we were waiting for our new house to be built.
now, they all live in florida again. nice grandparents for most of the year, and mean grandparents full time, since they came for a visit and my parents and aunt realized that he was too far gone for them to live so far away and alone in virginia backwoods.
mean grandpa was also, most likely, in the kkk. which really sucks, and explains a lot about the racist household i grew up in. a hunter, a woodsman who lives in camo.
now, he can't figure out how to work the remote on his adjustable chair, and lives in pajamas day in and day out.
i remember nice grandpa helping me with my algebra homework in high school, because he was always sharp as a tack. now he is starting to slip, and forget.
and he is convinced that he can heal himself, and loves to tell stories about his days in the air force.
grandma had surgery on her spine a few years ago, it was one of my four trips home spent in hospitals.
she hasn't been the same since. before that, really, she was in a lot of pain. but now, she can barely get out to have a cigarette, and has all but lost her will to live.
i love my grandparents.
it's part of the reason i want to move home. their years are numbered, and few, and i want to spend as much time with them as i can, before they are gone.
for a long time, they were my motivation to have kids. i wanted my kids to know them.
but those days are over for me, and i know that now, by the time i have one, they will be gone.
there are times when i think about this and cry.
tonight is not one of those nights.
i have a lot of memories of all of them.
one of the most memorable trips was that journal trip to virginia with mean grandparents. the whole family was there. the whole 'famn damily'.
and it snowed that trip, which it never really did, and i wrote on the window of our minivan 'we <3 each other' because all we did was fight the whole time. and all they did was fight the whole time.
if i had a dollar for every time i have heard my grandmother yell, 'richard!' at my grandpa in her nasty voice, i'd be a millionaire.
she is the reason i left ever, really. i felt myself becoming her. and there was nothing i wanted more than to avoid the life she ended up living.
being stuck in an abusive marriage, miserable, wishing her life away. and thinking that when he's dead and gone, she'll finally be happy and able to do what she wants.
little does she know that when he's dead and gone, she'll be lost. and bitterly alone.
while i was married, we made a point to go to nice grandparents' house every summer. it was the one vacation we took a year, together. the puppy could run around their yard in the smokey mountains off her leash. and until they eventually got tachnology last summer, there were no cell phone signals and no internet, so we could really get away from it all.
and the trip there last summer was when my parents and grandparents fell out of love with ever. it was when they tarted to resent him for guilting me about wanting to go with my family out on the lake, because he didn't want to go. and ultimately, he refused to go, and i went because i wanted to. and they never got over it. because i couldn't really enjoy myself, worrying about him and what he was doing to keep himself occupied while we were living the good life.
and ultimately, when i took the trip home to tell mom and dad we were getting a divorce, my grandparents called him an anchor and said he wasn't a partner if he didn't contribute.
mean grandma didn't act surprised when i told her. she didn't really have anything to say about it.
when i go home, i see the nice set daily for lunch, and go once a week to see the mean set, because they're so miserable to be around.
that's the story of my grandparents.
i'll miss them when they're gone.
grandma and grandpa.
some of my earliest memories are of my grandparents.
i differentiate between sets by calling them mean and nice.
my mom's parent are nice, my dad's parents are mean.
nice grandma used to babysit me when i was little, when my mom worked at the bank between having me and my brother.
i used to make mudpies in her backyard.
everyday, before mom came home, she'd hose me off and one of our 'things' was saying
'oh, no, mr bill'.
i don't know why. but to this day, she still says it, and makes me crinkle my nose at her, because it takes her back to when i was small.
i remember mean grandma having me over for the night around that same age when she still lived in florida. she'd have coffee on, all day and all night. and she'd let me have tiny cups of coffee with lots of milk and sugar. i drank it lukewarm. the only time in my life i ever drank coffee that wasn't on ice.
and i'd watch he man, and later at night, we'd watch hee haw, and dallas.
random.
mean grandpa was always nice to me. i guess i was his favorite. i don't remember them fighting back then, though i'm sure they did. getting older, i found out he was an alcoholic in those days, and would take trips to the trunk of his car to drink whiskey out of the bottle.
i also remember him, years later, in virginia where they lived for almost 30 years, making popcorn on the stove. huge batches dumped into paper bags, with real butter and lots of salt. i think this is where i developed my addiction.
it's sad that i spent part of my trip home this summer visiting him in a hospital, and then the nursing home. he's in the last ugly stages of alzheimers now. it sucks. he doesn't even know who i am anymore.
mean grandma was the one who would rat us out to mom when she picked us up.
and who committed the unforgivable sin of taking my paper journal, when i was in college, and on vacation with the family. she read it, and scratched out things i'd written about her that were less than complimentary, and told my mom that she should read what i wrote about her (which i hadn't done).
nice grandma and grandpa were the ones who would sneak us treats, and tell us not to tell our mother.
they also let us live in their house when my brother died, while we were waiting for our new house to be built.
now, they all live in florida again. nice grandparents for most of the year, and mean grandparents full time, since they came for a visit and my parents and aunt realized that he was too far gone for them to live so far away and alone in virginia backwoods.
mean grandpa was also, most likely, in the kkk. which really sucks, and explains a lot about the racist household i grew up in. a hunter, a woodsman who lives in camo.
now, he can't figure out how to work the remote on his adjustable chair, and lives in pajamas day in and day out.
i remember nice grandpa helping me with my algebra homework in high school, because he was always sharp as a tack. now he is starting to slip, and forget.
and he is convinced that he can heal himself, and loves to tell stories about his days in the air force.
grandma had surgery on her spine a few years ago, it was one of my four trips home spent in hospitals.
she hasn't been the same since. before that, really, she was in a lot of pain. but now, she can barely get out to have a cigarette, and has all but lost her will to live.
i love my grandparents.
it's part of the reason i want to move home. their years are numbered, and few, and i want to spend as much time with them as i can, before they are gone.
for a long time, they were my motivation to have kids. i wanted my kids to know them.
but those days are over for me, and i know that now, by the time i have one, they will be gone.
there are times when i think about this and cry.
tonight is not one of those nights.
i have a lot of memories of all of them.
one of the most memorable trips was that journal trip to virginia with mean grandparents. the whole family was there. the whole 'famn damily'.
and it snowed that trip, which it never really did, and i wrote on the window of our minivan 'we <3 each other' because all we did was fight the whole time. and all they did was fight the whole time.
if i had a dollar for every time i have heard my grandmother yell, 'richard!' at my grandpa in her nasty voice, i'd be a millionaire.
she is the reason i left ever, really. i felt myself becoming her. and there was nothing i wanted more than to avoid the life she ended up living.
being stuck in an abusive marriage, miserable, wishing her life away. and thinking that when he's dead and gone, she'll finally be happy and able to do what she wants.
little does she know that when he's dead and gone, she'll be lost. and bitterly alone.
while i was married, we made a point to go to nice grandparents' house every summer. it was the one vacation we took a year, together. the puppy could run around their yard in the smokey mountains off her leash. and until they eventually got tachnology last summer, there were no cell phone signals and no internet, so we could really get away from it all.
and the trip there last summer was when my parents and grandparents fell out of love with ever. it was when they tarted to resent him for guilting me about wanting to go with my family out on the lake, because he didn't want to go. and ultimately, he refused to go, and i went because i wanted to. and they never got over it. because i couldn't really enjoy myself, worrying about him and what he was doing to keep himself occupied while we were living the good life.
and ultimately, when i took the trip home to tell mom and dad we were getting a divorce, my grandparents called him an anchor and said he wasn't a partner if he didn't contribute.
mean grandma didn't act surprised when i told her. she didn't really have anything to say about it.
when i go home, i see the nice set daily for lunch, and go once a week to see the mean set, because they're so miserable to be around.
that's the story of my grandparents.
i'll miss them when they're gone.
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