Left work early, got a manicure and spent rest of v. frigid Monday evening doing absolutely nothing productive. Had intended to clean dismal mess of a bedroom, but ended up in hot, salty bath considering ending of one v. strange, tumultuous year. Rollercoasters have never really been a thrill for yours truly, but seems as though have spent the last 365 days riding one.
January: Meet, fall for and get dumped by J.
February: Get Pneumonia. And Strep. Vicodin, please?
March: Find the lump.
April: Thirty-seven days after initial discovery, the lump is extracted.
May: J comes back. Sits on fence. "Patience is a virtue," begins to take on new meaning.
June: UMF runs away to London to join circus.
July: Stand in rain for forty minutes, being stood up by J. Vow to cut him out completely. Yeah, right. NACF goes back to the bottle.
August: Discover NACF's cheating ways. Bring Reluctant Kitten home; discover am horrible kitten mother.
September: Spend twelve v. long days sequestered with UMF in Europe. Film remains undeveloped. J begins Whoring Coworker saga.
October: NACF hospitalized. Horrid breakdown in J lane. Am told, "I'm sorry I don't love you."
November: Robbed in New York. Parents announce separation and subsequent divorce.
December: SAS substance abuse scare.
Am actually quite glad to bring an end to the year. What drama! Must admit, though, have never felt more like living, breathing human being than in midst of all above uncharacteristic excitement. Have been through hell's fire but have realized that remain remarkably and relatively unscathed. Feel somewhat proud. Have not sought professional help (though, perhaps should), have not even adopted habits any more self destructive than obscene addiction to Ben and Jerry's. And so now, have really only one thing to say as I welcome in the New Year and all it could possibly have in store:
Bring it.
Weekend? What weekend?
Took yet another day off and spent good part of Friday and Saturday in v. cold out-of-state location with visiting San Diego Pal. After long ride back, was ready to settle in to v. comfortable bed with new Cosmo magazine. Pathetic? No way. Said issue of Cosmo had bedside astrologer. Crucial information for coming new year. Had made v. tentative "might see you" plans with J and was actually quite surprised when cell phone rang and was invited to join for evening of drinking and dancing at downtown swank site. Was in state of shock over invite because not only is J somewhat of a flake in "might see you" follow through, but also over entire array of J behavior that evening. Am not sure whether was Blood Alcohol Level or intoxicating scent of new perfume, but am fairly certain have not experienced the wonder that was flirtatious J in many moons.
D: Oh, leave your hair down... it's very pretty.
H: Ok... thanks, D.
J: She is beautiful, isn't she?
H: (jaw dropping) Wow... thank you.
D: You really are.
J: Yeah, you're very beautiful.
H: Stop, I'm blushing!
Do not think J has paid yours truly compliment of that sort since first date nearly one year ago. Was even more shocked when J displayed out of character, couple-ish behavior when leaving dance floor to get another round of drinks, planted kiss on forehead and swatted my tush. Did not bother questioning. Rather, simply took it all as good omen that would be spending rest of evening enjoying more of said activities. And did, indeed.
Had enormously good time dancing with J, his galpal D, and B. Sir Mix-a-lot seemed to strike chord with B who made fans of many a lady while shakin his not-so-big butt. Was ever so entertaining.
Spent entire day after torturing J in hungover state, quoting Crank Yankers with B at regular intervals.
H: Batman.
B: Gotham City.
J: Ugh! Why'd you get him started again? You stop, but he keeps going!
B: Batman?
H: I missed it! He was being too quiet... I got worried.
B: He lives in a lair.
J: Oh god.
B: I'll track him down with all of my hatred.
Am so looking forward to New Year's Eve celebration. Though, have no clue what to wear. And suppose it actually matters, as will be long evening and will probably remain fully clothed as B has warned that J will be too intoxicated for clothes-shedding activities.
Bother.
Well, good morning, v. cute sanitation engineer! Seems so much nicer than calling lovely Monday morning vision "garbage man."
Spent v. nice Christmas day with Concerned Roommate and extended family. Nearly cried, though, in middle of enormous package opening extravaganza when there was a gift from her mother for yours truly. Sat stunned for several seconds and made v. valiant attempt not to be too affected. Was unexplainably touched.
Evening was cut short by finally-arriving snowstorm. Yours truly became designated driver. But as have much experience driving in blizzardy conditions, was happy to have the job instead of slightly intoxicated roommate. Felt v. adventurous driving home under downed powerlines. How v. thrilling.
Am desperate!
Must lose 15 pounds in five days (so as to pull of New Year's Eve get-up) and achieve clear, glowing skin (currently look like am suffering from Leprosy) in same short time period. Wonder if diet consisting of water and... water will achieve necessary results in time?
Oh god. How did this happen???
Am spending morning in v. warm bed, tossing ratty mouse-like toy with Reluctant Kitten and being v. glad am not at work. Concerned roommate and self have called in "sick" on this fine, pre-holiday morning to do nothing more than lay around, make candy and listen to Elvis's Christmas album. Day well spent. Indeed.
J came by last night. Did not stay. What good is having fuck buddy if will not stay around to... well, hang out.
Very Calm Brother has given his full permission for yours truly to blow off holiday fun. Said Christmas would always be the time when the family fell apart and that should just wait until unspoiled holidays for celebration. Like Flag Day.
Received one (1) gift from family, which am currently wearing. Yes, did open present before actual day celebrating v. strange, yet miraculous birth of earthly deity. Four hours early, in fact. UMF was set on getting yours truly v. thoughtful (music lessons -- but let's face it, am no Joni Mitchell) and or complicated (printer/scanner/copier combo) gift, but all that could think about was big, white, thick robe from Victoria's Secret. When gift arrived, and could see tell-tale pink box, knew had won the Christmas Gift battle.
J did not understand.
J: So, I get it. Right. You wanted a robe instead of a printer/scanner/copier. Remind me why?
H: My mother does not give generous gifts to make you feel good. She gives them so she can hang it over you remind you that you're obligated to her for your well being. I'd rather have a bathrobe and get to speak my mind. Get it?
J: Well said.
Indeed. Besides, did really, really want this robe. And now, as have just spent last hour cuddled on couch with RK, and those lovely Gilmore Girls, am v. glad that do not have a printer/scanner/copier, as they come with too many directions. The robe came with one: Wear.
Ahhh. Heaven.
J: I'm sorry I didn't call back yesterday. I got caught up at my aunt's, and then forgot. Sorry.
H: *gasp!* You...forgot me?
J: Ugh... Why am I so stupid? Oh wait, don't answer that!
H: Would you like that in list form, or essay? Oh...don't answer that. Gotcha. Hey, can you swing by after band practice? I have gifts for you and B and I don't think I'll see you before Wednesday.
J: WHY did you get me something!?
H: Um, the voices said to? Because it's Christmas, silly. It's not a big deal.
J: But I'm broke and my gift may be lame, if existent at all! And you do so much for me, or to me already!
H: (laughing) to me... awesome. Seriously, not a big deal. Don't make me say it again. You want me to give it to a street person instead?
J: Okay. How's this: after the holidays, I have a gift certificate to one of the finest restaurants in the city. We will go.
H: That would be lovely. But that is not how it works. You don't "owe" me anything, silly. When the Wisemen brought Jesus all that Frankincense and stuff, he didn't have to take 'em out to dinner.
J: Yeah, only He gave them everlasting life!
Indeed. Care to take bets if aforementioned dinner actually happens? 2 to 1 it doesn't.
Cannot get J to return my phone calls, yet can get his mother to send me mail. Indeed.
Curious thing.
Was surprised to get real, non-bill mail in box yesterday afternoon. Two real pieces. Just for yours truly. Was delighted! Got holiday card from foreign-based friend and card from J's mother with pictures from Thanksgiving. Is that pre-nookie glow or my over-active imagination? Am happy to note that look acceptable in all three photographs and v. sweet note says she hopes to see me again soon.
Yes, would like that as well.
Have just woken from the strangest dream.
Am standing in hallway being hugged by UMF and her mother and father (bizarre point #1: are NOT huggy people)
Am wearing satin wedding gown clearly in need of alterations. (bizarre point # 2: even in dreams am not able to fill out bust of gown).
In walks J and am suddenly am v. aware of fact that have told these people that am getting married to J in not-too-distant future, but have not told J. (bizarre point #3: this does not phase J in the least)
Have own theories as to meaning of dream, but would love to hear input.
Concerned Roommate was kind enough to forward today's horoscope and must say, am less than thrilled. When opening line of cosmic future predictor read that should consider today as good as is going to get for coming year, felt like bludgeoning self with nearest sharp object.
H: No! I look disgusting! I'm completely exhausted! This can't be as good as it gets. Not for a whole year!
CR: Well, it hasn't really started yet. Could get better.
H: I'm going to have Ben and Jerry's for breakfast. I must take control of my own fate.
CR: That a girl!
Have still not quite recovered from mid-week cheap wine, midnight romp extravaganza. Celebrations of that sort are never consequence free, and this week's seem to be two-fold: this crippling exhaustion, and the following email from J's roommate, B:
B: Thin walls, ya know. Have some respect. *wink*
H: *gasp!*
B: You mean, *moan*
H: B! Ok, let's talk about something else! Nice call on dress #1, by the way. I'm still getting compliments on it, and it's home crumpled up on my floor.
B: Or J's room on the speakers.
H: I put it on his book shelf, thank you very much.
B: I'm just teasing. I'm probably jealous. He is getting more than me -- just knockin 'em!
H: Please do not bring up the other girls he's "knockin," as you so nicely put it. I'm still a girl, B. I can deal with sex for the sake of sex, because I know it doesn't change anything between us and it's fun. But I don't want to know about the others. Capiche?
B: I mean bustin balls, knockin 'em together... Don't let him fool you -- he is no stud! He's not fooling around.
H: Hmm...graphic!
B: Let's be serious. I know that he is not messing around.
Indeed.
Am slightly hung over... and thus do not feel much like writing. But will say:
Company holiday party went off rather nicely. Got so many gushing compliments on dress #1 that felt like film starlet for entire party. Ended up ducking out early with J and going to his place to watch favorite film.
Was a v. nice sleep over.
Received notice from IT that would be advisable to empty email of any unnecessary messages (ie not work related) as user folder is reaching "Full" status. On examination found that inbox contained the following number of unnecessary items:
206 from J (over last two weeks) consisting of movie quoting, flirting, one argument and one apology. (Will hold onto apology)
73 from Concerned Roommate on status of dreaded Christmas gift purchase for new boyfriend.
9 friendly reminders about company Christmas party (promptly deleted)
2 not-so-friendly reminders that Visa bill is late this month. (deleted and paid)
Inappropriate Email string of the Day:
J: YES!!!! You got one!!!! (referring to my finally-correct quoting of Crank Yankers call)
H: Yay! Do I get a prize?!
J: Yeah, you get me to NOT slap your ass...
H: Sheesh! That's the last time I quote something right! I said prize, not punishment.
J: Oh, it's like that, huh? Okay, I will keep spanking then. You know that is my ultimate weakness. I have to physically control my urges to slap women in the ass!
H: I think it's why they're padded more nicely than boys'. For smackin'. A good spanking can really make the day worth while.
J: Mmmm, spanking.....
H: Yes. I concur. There should be more spanking. Daily requirement or something.
J: I can't be expected to adjust this account thousands of dollars, when I can't get your ass out of my head...
H: Well, just try to think of something else! Like, hair pulling...
J: NOT HELPING!!!!
Have spent better part of the afternoon pestering B about which dress to wear to company holiday party. The tight one that reveals holiday pounds added to already-generous backside, yet exposes killer collarbones? Or feminine one which reveals possible back rolls, yet downplays any extra hippage?
B: I say dress number 1.
H: Even if it's tight on the tush?
B: Me, I like 'em tight.
H: But I mean tight... like I have probably put on too much weight to carry it off...
B: Stop. You are not overweight.
H: No, I'm not. Maybe 7 pounds past my summer weight. But that's just a little more J-Lo than I'd like to look in my dress. I think I need a B Mirror in my room. You know, like in Snow White? B, B on the wall, does this make my ass look small?
B: H, H, on my floor, no, you don't look like a whore.
H: Uh, thanks B. (shaking head)
Am not feeling quite right.
Happens from time to time, when either cosmic forces or brain chemicals are not aligning properly. Feel v. suddenly isolated at thought of spending holiday away from family members. As member of five-sibling clan, quiet Christmas morning will feel v. v. strange, am sure. Would prefer to spend said jolly time at home, feeling adequately sorry for self and/or pretending is not holiday at all, rather mid-week sick day or some such break from work. Would rather skip over the day altogether. However, Concerned Roommate said will not allow such wallowing and has insisted that yours truly join her family for the holiday. Am v. hesitant.
Spent lovely dinner with Concerned Roommate and her mother last weekend and had to leave table when found self overwhelmed with own misery in company of v. gracious and hinged mother figure and v. in-love roommate. Had quick cry in ladies room stall before returning to candle lit table.
GalPal has self clawing at face over new, excited, giddy state of being enamored with new-found love potential. While am deliriously happy for well-deserving friend and do not begrudge her this Miracle on 99th Street, am wearing horrid shroud of self pity and, if am honest, jealousy. Green is NOT good color on this unnatural blonde.
Perhaps simply need more sleep. Or warm bath. Indeed. Will do just that... in 8 hours. Silly monkey job.
Perhaps am wearing sign on back of sweater which says, "Am v. v. self conscious about hair-lightening disaster, please comment at will." After running Comment Gauntlet, have decided to hide in office for rest of v. long, snowy day.
Comments received thus far:
"How's it going, Blondie??"
"Brighter is better, I say."
"Oh my, I almost didn't recognize you! It looks great!"
"You look stunning!"
"What did you do to your hair? It looks gray! Now I know what you'll look like at 40."
"It's not bad."
"What's your natural color?"
"It's kinda like Jennifer Aniston's when she went through that super long hair phase. Remember?"
Uh, yes. Do indeed remember. Are you saying that am in need of a haircut as well?? Was also expressed opinion of over-talkative hairdresser at pricey salon. So, yes, am aware that Little House on the Prairie-esque locks are not highly fashionable in this century, but if Jennifer Aniston can get away with it, why not this gal? Ok, silly question. Is married to Brad Pitt and thus excluded from all ridicule as has achieved goal worthy of all merit. That is why. Is true that contemplate lopping off hair every time it gets stuck small hooks while fastening bra, but am fearing would face some drastic separation anxiety if indeed went through with it. Besides, T (v. charming hairdresser at said salon), walked by yours truly, doubled back, ran fingers through pre-disaster hair and said,
"Beautiful hair! It's very difficult to keep hair that long so healthy and shiny! Especially colored hair! It's beautiful."
"Thank you."
"Just gorgeous."
"Thanks (blushing)."
Perhaps pre-color catastrophe nullifies T's praise, but am still not getting it cut. Would miss looking like Laura Ingalls. Getting it swatted at by terrorist RK. Or getting it pulled during rowdy... um, well, ahem. Indeed.
As have reached another 5K visits on fishblog, will once again celebrate by ritualistic list-making.
10 Phrases Uttered by Yours Truly this weekend:
1. Oh my god, I'm blond.
2. It IS as tiny as you've heard.
3. But half an ass is better than no ass at all!
4. Me-ow!
5. I love you.
6. Touch it.
7. You don't like us talking about vibrators because suddenly you feel so unnecessary.
8. Don't worry; I know what I'm doing.
9. If he buys your drink, you have to kiss him.
10. Every pair of my jeans shrunk.
Went to bed irritated. Woke up irritated. Would think that somehow, in 6 hours of sleep, would have some miraculous recovery of attitude. Nope. Didn't happen. What did happen upon waking, was repeated pushing of snooze button and growing aggravation of having to get out of warm bed and scoot self off into cold morning to place of employment. Not happy.
(Grumble. Whimper.) Fuck!
I swear, if you're late for work again...
I'm beginning to think you're no Inner Goddess at all. More like Inner Bitch.
Any reason we're so crabby this morning, Sunshine?
Could be that had THE most frustrating, unresolved disagreement with J yesterday. Could be that I seem to have put on 37 pounds in the last two weeks and my pants won't fit. Or, could be that I just am reserving the right to be uncharacteristically foul-tempered today. That okay with you?
PMS.
Excuse me?
We both know that's what this is.
Then, shouldn't I be allowed to crawl back into bed and sleep until my clothes fit and the world makes sense again?
Funny how it doesn't work that way. Now, put some angry girl music in your Discman and go to work.
Bossy.
Go to work.
Go to hell.
After you, Princess.
J: Is you there?
H: Yes, I is here. Did you send me something and I didn't reply?
J: No, I just missed ya.
Mmm hmm. Indeed.
Ack! Just got phone call from V. V. irate landlord saying wants to sit down and have talk with yours truly and roommate over fact that funds for rent check are still not available. Even called yours truly a liar! Was astounded as had ZERO idea what she was talking about. Am convinced that said landlord has bit of a drinking problem. If do get evicted, will simply pack up belongings, head for House that Crazy Built, and rescue teenage siblings from UMF and her rapidly declining mothering skills. Well, is one of the options at least. Do so hate having crazed, drunken landlord angry with yours truly. Is not pleasant. Feels something akin to some sort of irritating skin condition. Like Leprosy. Indeed.
Should not be allowed to take care of own household responsibilities these days. The result of trying to, or rather not trying at all, has resulted in sink full of dishes, ever-growing laundry pile in closet and stone cold radiators due to sudden and v. noticeable lack of heating oil. Am not used to being so irresponsible. Am convinced am experiencing only temporary breakdown and will be back to fully functioning fish in no time. Big City GalPal has decided to spring surprise visit and though do not like idea of her suffering the four-state drive to play babysitter to yours truly, am also secretly v. grateful for the help and company.
SAS is back home, though relegated to weeks of outpatient treatment, and am hoping that UMF will also be required to attend a few sessions. Is in huge state of denial over any role she could possibly play in teenage daughter's current emotional state.
Was surprised to get v. cheery, good morning email from J this morning.
Leave them alone...
Don't tell me you're going to reply to it, Bo Peep.
Ah, you're back. You've been quiet for days. I was hoping this was a permanent thing.
You can't permanently get rid of your inner monologue, silly. At least, not without medication. And if you hit that reply button, that's what's in store for you. You know that right?
Not necessarily. You have no faith in my inner strength. One email won't hurt.
I AM your inner strength, sweet cheeks. And we haven't been listening to Alana Davis for nothing, have we? Don't you hit that button!
Too late.
You are going to end up alone with fifty cats.
Me-ow.
Spent last night on-line with friend of teenage sister, convincing her to take nearly unconsciously drunk SAS home. Sister had done so much physical damage to self that yours truly was v. certain was cry for help. Could not, however, call the UMF or NACF. Indeed not, as would break every sisterly code ever written. Instead, went through other sibling. SAS is being checked into hospital-like facility at this very moment and am hoping that have done the right thing.
Was asked back to the house by J who then spent entire time chatting with waify red head, while yours truly sat smooshed on couch with extraneous friends feeling invisible and just a bit too drunk. Finally asked J's v. kind roommate W for a lift home. Spent ride fuming and feeling just too pathetic.
W: Why did you sleep with him?
H: Uh, well, I guess he told you.
W: Roommates always talk about that kind of stuff. H, I really feel for you. You're such a good person.
H: Thank you for being so nice, W. I don't think sleeping with him was a mistake. This whole friendship thing is, though.
W: I'll always be your friend, whatever you decide to do. I mean, I'll miss you a lot if you don't come around the house.
H: Thanks. And thank you for the ride. I'm sure I'll talk to you soon.
Have decided to take leave of absence from J. Just have not figured out how, or if am going to tell him.
Have spent day in flurry of activity preparing for acquiring Christmas tree.
Made sugar cookies and roommate made lovely dinner for tree trimming friends. J is on his way to take us to friendly tree farm, and roommate's brother will be along with egg nog. Has so far been v. perfect winter day. Hope to end it just as perfectly. Am going to hear Finally Complete Band make big city debut.
Will be v. telling if am asked back to Js after the show. V. telling indeed.
Have volunteered to spend afternoon at after-school program helping kids make gifts for friends and relatives for holidays. Am now wishing that had not been feeling so generous of spirit last week, as do not feel so now. Just want to sit at computer and bounce emails with J and roommate all day. Though, am starting to think that spend just a wee bit too much time talking to J, as woke up several times last night talking in sleep to him. And he, of course, was not there.
V. strange.
Felt v. much like Eva Marie Saint (though noticeably missing pearl necklace and kitten heels) tieing J's tie for him and running hands down shoulders of new, black suit as stood in dressing room of department store.
J: So, not that it's your call, but it really is. What do you think?
H: It's nice. Very nice. But I like your other one better.
J: My gray one? It's so old. I don't think you've ever seen me wear it...
H: (laughing) No. Not the gray one. Your birthday one.
J: My wha... oh! (laughing) Yeah, you do.
Then, nothing. Moment over. Dropped yours truly off and that was that. Though, when he showed up this morning to pick up money (no, am not Js sugar mama -- J was kind enough to run errand for Fish), was wearing ever-so-tiny new Jane Blogger T-shirt and thong (thong hiding under yoga pants).
J: Nice shirt.
H: Thanks. You should see the other half.
J: (Heading out the door. Then stops, hand on door knob.) Yeah. (pause) I should!
Have also finally managed to secure link to T, v. gorgeous disappearing act from few weekends back. Have been promised that lack of communication thus far is not due to low level of interest on T's part but social guffaw of T's roommate. Roommate apologized for being unaware of statute of limitations that exists for chance meetings and first dates. Am hoping communication issues will soon iron out and will be sharing v. nice electricity feeling with T again soon. There is something to be said for v. good immediate chemistry. Something to be said indeed. Like, "Wow" and "Yum" and "Shhh, don't talk."
CR: J will not like this new development.
H: Good. I don't want him to.
CR: What are you going to do now that thing are better with J? Juggle?
H: Always said I should get a hobby...
Spent last night v. smoky bar with J and GuitarPlayer A with purpose of checking out band that Lead Singer also happens to be member of. Will have to agree with J that Lead Singer is much better off in Finally Complete Band.
J: I feel like the smart girlfriend. "I'm so much better for him!" You know?
H: Uh yeah. Do I know? Do I KNOW? He doesn't belong as anyone's back-up. He's too good.
J: You're right. They don't see what they have.
H: Is this the part where I laugh maniacally and then my head explodes? Sounds familiar.
J: Huh?
H: I need some water.
Flirted like were 17 again. Bodychecking, bumping into one another unnecessarily and speaking v. close to sensitive ears in breathy whispers. Slid v. gracefully from car, though, before J could attempt any actual physical contact. Turned at steps to see him watching. That's the ticket!
Are going shopping tonight to buy J a new suit for company Christmas party. Am eagerly anticipating coworker reaction to parading v. sexy, suit-clad J around. Beats last year's gig with poorly dressed Drunken Irishman. Am huge proponent of idea that men come with labels. Drunken Irishman, Yeller, Commit-o-phobe, etc. Would have left last year's model on shelf with Stalker, Lousy Kisser and Oedipal Complex.
Would seem spasmodic parental figures are not separating as had been told. No, indeed. Are divorcing. NACF has immediate plans to leave the state and head for new life in small town out West. Fine.
Strange thing giving up parenting before children are out of the house. Much like leaving game of Monopoly simply because you can't seem to score Marvin Gardens. Do hope on passing Go, that NACF collects his $200. Might buy him a chance at seeing his teenage daughters again. Then again, might not, as abandonment can be fairly expensive.
H: Musicians, I swear! *wink*
J: I know you are joking, but today is already NOT a good day...
H: Oh, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to upset you. I didn't realize.
J: No, you didn't. It's not you at all. (Long explanation of internal strife among Finally Complete Band) So, sorry, it's not you at all. Sorry, babe.
Is it v. v. wrong that "sorry" is among top 10 favorite words to hear? Especially when accompanied by "babe," is somehow v. melodic.
Repeat with me: Sorry, babe.
Yes, indeed. Very nice.
Seems as though J has managed to polish up magic technique and weekend disappearing act has ended in graceful, "Sorry I didn't call" emails. Have taken his explanation as one part bullshit, one part cowardice and two parts inability to grasp magnitude of situation. Mix well. Bake at 350 until golden brown. Serve warm, over french-vanilla icecream.
Am amazed at own ability to function relatively free of "what does this all mean" hang-ups regarding Thanksgiving extravaganza. While dating J, made v. stern rule that would not sleep with him, as result of ridiculous commitment fence-sitting regarding yours truly. Was v. well aware that could not handle emotional repercussions. Is horribly impossible to walk away from such an event without taking at least a bit of emotional baggage. But, either am in complete denial or have become much more dent resistant (not unlike a Saturn sidepanel) because have so far managed to come out of situation without acquiring so much as an unattractive pocket book or oddly shaped carry-on.
Is Monday morning, and am baggage free. Can't last. Must have some sort of breakdown. Right?
Am certain am just being paranoid, but am having strange separation from logical side of self at moment. Not only did J fail to call on Saturday regarding potential going-out-and-drinking plans as promised, but when yours truly called (why not? if are friends, is perfectly legit to call, no?) got voicemail. And not only did yours truly get voicemail (J rarely does NOT answer his phone), but message has thus far gone unreturned.
What gives?
Have spent morning wandering house, making lame attempts at putting up holiday decor and succeeding wildly at finishing off last night's pint of ice cream.
One way ticket to Fatsville. All aboard.
Why-oh-why-oh-why? Ok, not why did I sleep with J. Neither J nor myself were intoxicated. Sure, yours truly had downed half a bottle of wine hours earlier, but for the most part the let's get busy decision was made fully based in reality. Thought to self, Self, is absolutely impossible to be MORE attached to v. nice smelling bicycle, so why not? Thus, question in fishy head has nothing to do with own behavior, but that of J. Current disappearing act is so horridly reminiscent of the v. uncertain dating days. Am inclined to risk complete alienation and call again to let Mr. Unsteady know that if he plans on destroying what have built up over MONTHS because of what happened over four hours, is one v. big coward.
Am out of ice cream.