The Way Things Are

There is nothing cheerful or funny here... so if that's what you're looking for just move right on along. Maybe come back in a few months.

It's been almost a week... we haven't been to the gym once. What a shock. Bean and I both had cramps for three of those days so there was less than no motivation there. But really, I'm having difficulty with figuring out the point of even getting out of bed.

I did go over to mom and dad's to help paint today and that was sweaty work. I forgot how physical painting really is. Especially their room. They knocked out a wall and made the master bedroom HUGE. I swear it's not much smaller than my entire house.

I also heard back from the BSRB... I can apply for a temporary license until I take the exam, which is good, and that gives me some time before I have to take the test. My plan is to take it at the end of August, and to study two hours a day until then. I wonder if I'll actually follow through on that. I'll probably stack up my books and stuff and move them around the house about a thousand times, intending to do something with them. I don't know why I can't get my shit together. (Yes, you do.)

OK. Yes I do.

Depression is a bitch. I have been feeling a lot of rejection lately: jobs, friends, boys. I honestly do not know why anyone would ever want to hire me, fuck me, talk to me or spend any time with me in any way at all. I don't even have anything interesting to say anymore. I was at Twist on Thursday and said, apropos of nothing, that I had been watching Three's Company late at night. There was no follow up anecdote or observation about it, just "I've been watching Three's Company." I'm losing my grip on my crazy. It just reinforces my instinct to stay at home, which just makes it worse.

And I know that my friends are worried about me. I am too. So I'm not fishing for reassurance. I'm just venting... because I kept NOT writing anything here because I had nothing to say that was positive and then I realized that it might be awhile if I kept that up.

It's been three months and even Comcare doesn't want me. It's possible that the
license will actually help, but then that's what I thought about the degree.

It's been three months and really thought I was over the boy. I hated the person I was with him, and he hated the person I was with him. I needed him to love me, he needed me to leave him alone... so really I am better off alone than wanting something that was never going to happen with someone who was never going to love me. And I was OK with that... until I saw him last week. I miss the stupid asshole. There is something that has been between us for years (and years and years) that doesn't seem to go away. And then he goes away and I get really comfortable thinking that there are just some feelings that I'm not going to have anymore... and then He shows up and I am twenty two again, standing in the sleet and not feeling the cold at all because his arms are around me and he is telling me that he loves me. And I believed him. At twenty-two and at thirty-two. Hopefully by the time I'm forty-two I'll be smarter. Or at least stronger. Or more medicated.