Saturday, January 14, 2006



So, the only person who called me at all last night was my ex-boyfriend. I was crying about everything that happened at work, and about the fact that none of my other friends had even cared enough to call. So, even though we had just hung out the night before, he dropped his plans and came and picked me up anyway.
We just ordered pizza and got high, but it was still really nice of him to try to pick me up when I was down. He did continue his trend of torturing me once I was high and couldn't leave, by making me watch the entire movie Eurotrip, which strikes me as cruel and unusual punishment. Fortunately, my brain was so scrambled, I couldn't even follow the film's complex narrative. I kept forgetting what was going on from one moment to the next.
I crashed there, and we ended up having sex this morning, but I don't think it is a big deal or anything to worry about. We've been friends for so long, and broken up for so long, that it seems like these occasional sex slips don't have any adverse effects, which is nice. We even went out to breakfast afterward.

Friday, January 13, 2006



So, most of my friends know what I'm going through at work right now. And they know I'm really really upset about it. I texted a bunch of them today about how bad things have gotten and about the fight with my boss. And not one single one has called to see how I am. That really kind of hurts.

Where are they when I really need them, you know? I feel like when it is stuff about the boy, I am more understanding when they can't support me, SORT OF. But this is just lame.



Hour long screaming fight with boss today. Of course, it didn't do any good.

I'm exhausted and sad. I guess I got out some good aggression, though. I didn't get paid. That sucks.



I have to wonder if the person who writes my horoscope somehow knows me and has a very cruel sense of humor. Today's says: "It's about being appreciated by your boss and perhaps even getting a bonus or raise. But don't go out looking for money now." On a day, when I'm STILL waiting for a replacement for the previous paycheck, which bounced, I find this fairly hilarious. I feel so very very appreciated by the old son of a bitch.

Thursday, January 12, 2006



So, today at work was pretty awful. Other than the people crying, one co-worker was so upset about the whole ordeal that she actually got physically ill. Then my boss finally came in, didn't pay us, and then fired someone. So, that really raised morale a lot.

In an attempt to cope, my co-workers and I treated ourselves to a very long lunch and a large amount of alcohol. One of us, who doesn't drink very often, was noticably bombed for the rest of the day, but really, what the hell was my boss going to say?

Things really need to start looking up soon. I'm just about full up of sadness and stress at this point.



After the fight with my boss yesterday, found out that he bounced my fucking paycheck. I called and screamed at him, but that really doesn't help anything.

Come in today, and realize that he bounced everyone's fucking paycheck. Everyone. I do not need this. I'm completely a wreck.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006



All hell is breaking loose at work. People are gonna get fired, I'm gonna get 8000 more things to do, and my boss is a total jackass. It was all I could do not to spend my entire lunchbreak crying. And no one else knows yet, so I get the full fabulous weight of this knowledge.



I was thinking about calling the boy tonight. For a lot of reasons that all sound very good, but really just mean that I want to hear his voice.

But, my horoscope says, "A disagreement over a philosophical perspective can become more emotional than intellectual today. It may be healthy to step back if the tension heats up too much, for no one will win an argument when feelings overshadow rational thought. Still, a good debate can bring new ideas to the surface. Just know when to let it go." I'm not like an astrology freak or anything remotely close to it, but that seems really forbidding, doesn't it?

Now I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006



So, my roommate gave me a notebook she labelled a "stalk log" for Christmas. I've actually started to write in the damned thing. I know, how psychotic and pathetic. And how ridiculous, considering that I am trying so hard to wean myself off of the boy. I mean, I didn't keep a stalk log in my scariest stalker-iest moments, and I'm going to do it now? I guess it just sort of gives me a way to sort of focus on him, which I can't help doing, without causing any damage to myself or my attempts to emancipate myself from this pathetic lovesick prison that I've kept myself in for the last several years. I don't know. It is probably mostly stupid, like most of my actions pertaining to him, but if it gets me through the day to write down how many times he is checking his Myspace or some shit, then I guess I'll go with it - for now.



Maybe I am too hard on the boy. I was supposed to hang out with my friend Josh on Sunday, and not only did he never call to hang out, I haven't heard from him since. And I was a little annoyed at the time, but I'm not mad at him or holding a grudge or anything. If the boy had done that, when we were still talking, I would have beaten him to a bloody pulp, or yelled a lot, accused him of not being my friend or caring about me, or something like that.
I mean, I know, the more you care about someone, the more their bad behavior hurts, but still, it does seem like I've been so much harder on him than anyone else. And why would he like me back when I'm spending so much time beating him up for the way he disappoints me.
Maybe this is just me backpedaling, though. And I know I'm not supposed to do that. Fuck, man.

Monday, January 09, 2006



I was sure I was going to crack tonight, as soon as my roommate left for the bar and couldn't stop me from reaching for the phone. Instead, I smoke cigarettes in my room (a big no-no) and danced around to whiney girl music. Good for me, I guess.



I'm still doing well at not calling the boy, but my mind is at that dangerous point where rather than keeping focused on the task at hand, it keeps wandering to the topic to how he feels about my lack of attention, how rarely I'm calling. And the answer should be one of two things: either convincing myself that he really truly doesn't care, or that I don't care how it is having an effect on him, since that is not why I'm doing it. I'm doing it for me. But keeping on that path is very difficult. It is making my head hurt. And I have no good TV or netflix movies to distract me. This is very alarming. I hope I don't fuck up.



One of my well-meaning co-workers, who, granted, has little or no actual work to do, drew me a diagram on how to replace my kitchen light socket myself.
Which is really really nice that he took the time to do that. But, the idea of me going and playing with the electical wiring in my ancient apartment building is really either funny or scary. I didn't want to say, "Are you nuts? I'm just gonna call the landlord", though, so I was just like, "Thanks. This is super helpful!"



I watched the movie Oldboy on video last night. Damn, that is messed up. I watch a lot of out there stuff, but that movie gave me the heebie jeebies.

Also frightening: the fact that when you turn on the lights in my kitchen, smoke begins pouring out of the light switch.

Not so good.

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Went to dinner with my roommate. So, I at least got out of the house for a bit. Since we got back, though, I haven't been able to get up from the bed. I just feel so exhausted from the effort of keeping my mind straight and my behavior in line. I'm continuing to do it, but I have no idea if it is worth it or not.
My roommate asks if I am just not going to talk to him at all now. And I don't know. I really don't. It isn't so much that I care about what the right thing to do is, but what the best thing to do for me. The thing that is going to hurt the least or for the least amount of time. Something like that. But I don't know what it is.



I'm too down to even watch football today. And I guess I should think of it as some sort of mental health improvement that it is "things are really ending" down, rather than "why isn't he calling... call me call me call me" down, but it really doesn't feel even slightly better, to be honest. There's a lot of things that I am not good at, but I am definitely worst at letting go, and maybe I am, sort of, doing that right now, but it hurts like fucking hell.
And speaking of letting go, it seems likely that I will have to let go of my beloved Patriots giant playoff winning streak next week. I'm not being entirely defeatist, and I know all hope is not entirely lost, but it's a long shot. The Patriots have made a habit out of winning Super Bowls and big games when I've been heartsick and needed a pick-me-up. But I suspect the bag of tricks may finally be running low. I'll watch and root with all my heart. They certainly bring their best game to the playoffs. I guess we'll see.
Of course, it is exceptionally sad that my own powers of helping myself are still so non-existent that I look to a football team as my inspiration to keep moving forward when things are bad.



So, as I've mentioned, I'm trying hard to stay strong. I think, as far as my behavior with the boy goes, I've been doing okay. But the consequence of putting up a strong face has been not so nice. The last couple days, I've taken to just hysterical crying jags, that just sneak up and overwhelm me, even if I'm in public. I had a doozy in the hallway of the mall at Hollywood and Highlands yesterday afternoon, just barely avoided one at the movies with my ex last night, and completely lost it coming home from the mechanics this morning. It's like a pressure-release valve or something. But I have to imagine that eventually, it is going to go off at a very inconvenient moment.



So, my car is in the shop. And I was walking back home from the mechanic, after I couldn't take waiting there any longer. It's a good five miles, at least, so I was pretty hot and tired. And the boy finally calls. After a week. He wants to act like nothing's wrong, like he's not an asshole who appears to have forgotten my existence altogether for the last week. When I tell him what's going on with my car, he asks me why I didn't call him for a ride home.
And it was seriously like the most painful thing he could have said. Like I'd rely on him to do my a favor? Like he's a person I can trust when I need help? He doesn't even return my calls anymore, but oh yeah, he's the person I want to turn to. How can be possibly be so oblivious to the change in how things between us - he's the one who's fucking instigating it, and then he's going to act like he doesn't notice??
Of course, immediately after that, he had to go. We were on the phone for a total of maybe ten minutes. No mention of seeing eachother, no mention of fucking anything.

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