What a Fucking Week.
Well, it's been an extremely fucking crazy week. I'm not really sure where to begin, so I'll just make a list:
1. When turning onto the Diagonal Highway from 63rd Street, my car slid on the icy road across four lanes, spun 180˚, narrowly missed an SUV by probably a foot, and then flew about 10-15 feet into a field. Cage the Elephant was playing, and I just sat there blinking. Somehow, I managed to drive out of the field and back onto the highway. I went to The Cup afterward and couldn't remember my name when the barista went to look me up in the system.
2. A homeless man came into The Cup and asked to buy me dinner, "no strings attached." I told him no, that I was working. He tells me, "I know you're always working. I'm always watching you work, and that's what you're doing, working working working!" He goes away and then comes back, "Can I buy you a pastry?" No, I'm trying to work, seriously. "I'm always watching you working!" He takes the table catercorner to mine and drinks his paper-cup coffee. The barista announces that the cafe is closing. Shit, I think, this means we'll all end up leaving together. I scramble to pack my stuff up and get out of there. The guy comes up to me and starts babbling about movies and the movie theatre, and then says how some people write reviews and maybe that's what I was doing when I work. My stomach flips, wondering if it was just a coincidence that he said I was a writer. Now I slightly freak out, wondering where he is, that he is "always watching me work."
3. Mason has been so much worse in his communication, so I gave up on him almost entirely (more on that later), after having so much stress over the whole thing.
4. I have a million NutriPlex products I'm working on, and my mother asked me to double my hours this week.
5. Ramblin' Jackson contacted me because they want to hire me on as a copywriter, as per Leah's recommendation. Even though this is the second time they're contacting me, they still insist upon my submitting an application, writing samples, and a resume. So, I've been working on their application questions-half of which I can't even answer because I'm not a social-media/SEO guru-writing a copywriting/copyediting resume, and putting together a couple of writing samples for them. I need this done by Monday.
6. Marissa contacted me, saying that she and Dean want to get me onboard as a copywriter and an editor. She asked me to take a look at her website and get a quote for them to rewrite the whole thing. They want me working with them, whatever happens, so she's looking at blogging, website content, cataloging, and even social media. I need that done by Monday.
7. Leah has gotten organized and created a gigantic schedule of blogs for me. I don't remember if I charged her for December, so I have to figure that out. Then, I realized she needs me to do one almost every three days now. She also sent me one back from December and said that it needs edits, and do I have time. However, I'm not sure what she needs exactly, because it's a blog about the FICO credit model, FICO09, and I don't know how to give the specific examples they need. Plus, I have no time to schedule that in.
8. Two nights ago was Michael's birthday, and he invited me out with a bunch of people for drinks and live music. As a last ditch effort, I invited Mason. He didn't respond for about 8 hours, he finished his rehearsal and texted me, apologizing that he'd missed "so many" of my texts, which were only two. He'd apparently gotten the first one and just decided not to respond to it. He said he might be able to come. I told him to let me know his plans when he knew. He didn't text me back until way into the night to say that obviously he had gotten caught up and couldn't come. I never wrote back.
9. At Michael's birthday, Michael was very drunk and told me about half an hour in that the two of us would probably make out that night. I laughed and said probably, since, what the fuck, he's my friend and I needed something to get over Mason's making me crazy with his lack of communication. Michael can't stop talking about how intoxicating my eyes are. We leave St. Julian and head to the beer garden. Michael's getting more and more drunk. He keeps telling me he's worked out and lost weight and putting my hands on his pectorals and biceps. Fine, that's attractive. We dance, we make out, we have fun. That's all I wanted and thought would happen, since we never progressed beyond that when we dated 4 years back. His ride left him, and I asked if he wanted a ride home, since I'd stopped drinking awhile back. In the car, on the street, we made out, and he kept putting my hand on his penis. Fine. He goes for feels and the thing progresses. I tell him I don't want to because we're on the street. He says we should go somewhere more intimate. I said no, because I'm not interested in going past that with him, that it's not so easy. He told me rather belligerently that he wasn't going to think I was easy all of a sudden. I say I'm going to take him home. He's not exactly being nice at this point. I take him back to near his place and he's insisting I come in. I say no, and he starts demanding why, saying we should, there's no reason not to. He's forcing his hand down my pants and his fingers into me; he's taken out his junk and keeps putting my hand on it. I say I don't want any of this. No no no. He keeps pushing it and becoming angry and demanding why not. Something takes ahold of me and I say he'll never talk to me again if he knew. He continues to be demanding, and I burst into tears, saying that I've been assaulted four times. Recently!? He asks. I'm trying to get it together and say, no, I'm just dealing with it now. I haven't told anyone really (I meant that I'd hooked up with), and he says that he feels good about himself because I've confided in him, then kisses me on the head a number of times. I declare that I'm strong and get myself together. He then starts talking about how we should be naked together, that he wants to be naked with me, that he's happy to just do things to me, that I need to come up with him. I tell him he needs to go and that I feel uncomfortable. He argues with me. He's put my car in Park. I tell him he needs to put his pants on. I basically kick him out of my car, wondering what just happened. The entire next day (yesterday), I spent shaking and crying and wondering what the hell to do. Leah and Neha were extremely supportive. I want to tell Robin, but I never called her, feeling like all I am is drama, blaming myself for having this happen so many times. All I want to do is start over so that it'll mean more to people because I haven't been through it before. I'm afraid that they'll either think I'm crying wolf or that I asked for it. I went to hang out with Pa'Ticia and some other women last night. I met up with Pa'Ticia first and told her. She goes, it's not your fault, but my advice is to stop being so friendly to guys-You're just so friendly that I think they get the wrong message; you can't do that because they think you mean something else. I feel angry after this but pretend she's being wise and comforting. She's basically telling me that just being FRIENDLY means I'm asking for it. I told her I thought I knew Michael and that I wanted to make out with him, but I told him NO. She says that the problem is being friendly, and that she's not so friendly. Michael writes to me and gives a basic apology, saying that alcohol "got the best" of him. I don't respond.
10. Two accompanists reply to my Craigslist ad, so I respond. I also work on my application and resume. While I'm at the cafe, Michael walks in and sits down in the booth beside me. We talk about random things, including shrooms for awhile. He's very nice to me. Before he stands up to leave, he goes, "Are we cool?" I say we are because I'm not strong enough to say no. He goes, I woke up feeling like an asshole. I look at him and go, "You were an asshole. You were a huge asshole." He goes, "I thought I might have been and then was like, no...but if you say I was, then I know I was, and I'm sorry." I repeat that he was a huge asshole, and then I say that we're cool. It felt good to tell him he was an asshole and pretend that I'm okay. I don't know how I am. I don't know how to deal with this.
11. Just after Michael leaves, I receive a text from Mason: "Good morning, I hope you are feeling better. I haven't heard back from you and wanted to check in. My apologies if my lack of attendance on Friday is a part of that equation. Once you mentioned you'd be homebound that evening I really shifted my whole day to other plans. I'm sorry if that and my inability to be in more regular communication complicated the issue. I hope you have a great day."
As I'm feeling brave, I responded: "Hey-Good Morning,
I am doing much better, thank you. Still a bit of a cough, but not debilitating.
It’s totally understandable that your day was restructured after I initially canceled on you. The communication has just been a bit tough because I’ll respond or ask you a question, and most of the time, I don’t receive an acknowledgment or a response. it’s almost as though you’re not getting my messages. Or, as on Friday night, I was wondering what was going on with you, and hours passed before you told me you were otherwise engaged. It’s lead me to believe you’re too busy or not that interested, and I don’t want to feel like I’m bothering you or chasing after you for answers, so I’ve backed off."
He responds: "I understand and will take some time to consider your thoughts.
I'm sorry to have put you in that space.
In the meantime, I hope you continue to feel better. Have a great afternoon."
I respond: "Thank you for being receptive.
I hope you have a lovely
afternoon, too."
I have no idea if he'll write me again or what he even means. I'd still be interested if the communication thing was cleared up, but I'm trying to stay detached.
11. Before I go to bed tonight, I still have to
- Finish getting my application, resume, and samples together
- Write a rough draft of the newest blog
- Come up with a quote for Marissa
Oh, and have I mentioned that I have a cold? No rest for the weary. In times like this, I miss the fuck out of John. Then I need to stabilize my self: Ain't nobody got time for that.
1. When turning onto the Diagonal Highway from 63rd Street, my car slid on the icy road across four lanes, spun 180˚, narrowly missed an SUV by probably a foot, and then flew about 10-15 feet into a field. Cage the Elephant was playing, and I just sat there blinking. Somehow, I managed to drive out of the field and back onto the highway. I went to The Cup afterward and couldn't remember my name when the barista went to look me up in the system.
2. A homeless man came into The Cup and asked to buy me dinner, "no strings attached." I told him no, that I was working. He tells me, "I know you're always working. I'm always watching you work, and that's what you're doing, working working working!" He goes away and then comes back, "Can I buy you a pastry?" No, I'm trying to work, seriously. "I'm always watching you working!" He takes the table catercorner to mine and drinks his paper-cup coffee. The barista announces that the cafe is closing. Shit, I think, this means we'll all end up leaving together. I scramble to pack my stuff up and get out of there. The guy comes up to me and starts babbling about movies and the movie theatre, and then says how some people write reviews and maybe that's what I was doing when I work. My stomach flips, wondering if it was just a coincidence that he said I was a writer. Now I slightly freak out, wondering where he is, that he is "always watching me work."
3. Mason has been so much worse in his communication, so I gave up on him almost entirely (more on that later), after having so much stress over the whole thing.
4. I have a million NutriPlex products I'm working on, and my mother asked me to double my hours this week.
5. Ramblin' Jackson contacted me because they want to hire me on as a copywriter, as per Leah's recommendation. Even though this is the second time they're contacting me, they still insist upon my submitting an application, writing samples, and a resume. So, I've been working on their application questions-half of which I can't even answer because I'm not a social-media/SEO guru-writing a copywriting/copyediting resume, and putting together a couple of writing samples for them. I need this done by Monday.
6. Marissa contacted me, saying that she and Dean want to get me onboard as a copywriter and an editor. She asked me to take a look at her website and get a quote for them to rewrite the whole thing. They want me working with them, whatever happens, so she's looking at blogging, website content, cataloging, and even social media. I need that done by Monday.
7. Leah has gotten organized and created a gigantic schedule of blogs for me. I don't remember if I charged her for December, so I have to figure that out. Then, I realized she needs me to do one almost every three days now. She also sent me one back from December and said that it needs edits, and do I have time. However, I'm not sure what she needs exactly, because it's a blog about the FICO credit model, FICO09, and I don't know how to give the specific examples they need. Plus, I have no time to schedule that in.
8. Two nights ago was Michael's birthday, and he invited me out with a bunch of people for drinks and live music. As a last ditch effort, I invited Mason. He didn't respond for about 8 hours, he finished his rehearsal and texted me, apologizing that he'd missed "so many" of my texts, which were only two. He'd apparently gotten the first one and just decided not to respond to it. He said he might be able to come. I told him to let me know his plans when he knew. He didn't text me back until way into the night to say that obviously he had gotten caught up and couldn't come. I never wrote back.
9. At Michael's birthday, Michael was very drunk and told me about half an hour in that the two of us would probably make out that night. I laughed and said probably, since, what the fuck, he's my friend and I needed something to get over Mason's making me crazy with his lack of communication. Michael can't stop talking about how intoxicating my eyes are. We leave St. Julian and head to the beer garden. Michael's getting more and more drunk. He keeps telling me he's worked out and lost weight and putting my hands on his pectorals and biceps. Fine, that's attractive. We dance, we make out, we have fun. That's all I wanted and thought would happen, since we never progressed beyond that when we dated 4 years back. His ride left him, and I asked if he wanted a ride home, since I'd stopped drinking awhile back. In the car, on the street, we made out, and he kept putting my hand on his penis. Fine. He goes for feels and the thing progresses. I tell him I don't want to because we're on the street. He says we should go somewhere more intimate. I said no, because I'm not interested in going past that with him, that it's not so easy. He told me rather belligerently that he wasn't going to think I was easy all of a sudden. I say I'm going to take him home. He's not exactly being nice at this point. I take him back to near his place and he's insisting I come in. I say no, and he starts demanding why, saying we should, there's no reason not to. He's forcing his hand down my pants and his fingers into me; he's taken out his junk and keeps putting my hand on it. I say I don't want any of this. No no no. He keeps pushing it and becoming angry and demanding why not. Something takes ahold of me and I say he'll never talk to me again if he knew. He continues to be demanding, and I burst into tears, saying that I've been assaulted four times. Recently!? He asks. I'm trying to get it together and say, no, I'm just dealing with it now. I haven't told anyone really (I meant that I'd hooked up with), and he says that he feels good about himself because I've confided in him, then kisses me on the head a number of times. I declare that I'm strong and get myself together. He then starts talking about how we should be naked together, that he wants to be naked with me, that he's happy to just do things to me, that I need to come up with him. I tell him he needs to go and that I feel uncomfortable. He argues with me. He's put my car in Park. I tell him he needs to put his pants on. I basically kick him out of my car, wondering what just happened. The entire next day (yesterday), I spent shaking and crying and wondering what the hell to do. Leah and Neha were extremely supportive. I want to tell Robin, but I never called her, feeling like all I am is drama, blaming myself for having this happen so many times. All I want to do is start over so that it'll mean more to people because I haven't been through it before. I'm afraid that they'll either think I'm crying wolf or that I asked for it. I went to hang out with Pa'Ticia and some other women last night. I met up with Pa'Ticia first and told her. She goes, it's not your fault, but my advice is to stop being so friendly to guys-You're just so friendly that I think they get the wrong message; you can't do that because they think you mean something else. I feel angry after this but pretend she's being wise and comforting. She's basically telling me that just being FRIENDLY means I'm asking for it. I told her I thought I knew Michael and that I wanted to make out with him, but I told him NO. She says that the problem is being friendly, and that she's not so friendly. Michael writes to me and gives a basic apology, saying that alcohol "got the best" of him. I don't respond.
10. Two accompanists reply to my Craigslist ad, so I respond. I also work on my application and resume. While I'm at the cafe, Michael walks in and sits down in the booth beside me. We talk about random things, including shrooms for awhile. He's very nice to me. Before he stands up to leave, he goes, "Are we cool?" I say we are because I'm not strong enough to say no. He goes, I woke up feeling like an asshole. I look at him and go, "You were an asshole. You were a huge asshole." He goes, "I thought I might have been and then was like, no...but if you say I was, then I know I was, and I'm sorry." I repeat that he was a huge asshole, and then I say that we're cool. It felt good to tell him he was an asshole and pretend that I'm okay. I don't know how I am. I don't know how to deal with this.
11. Just after Michael leaves, I receive a text from Mason: "Good morning, I hope you are feeling better. I haven't heard back from you and wanted to check in. My apologies if my lack of attendance on Friday is a part of that equation. Once you mentioned you'd be homebound that evening I really shifted my whole day to other plans. I'm sorry if that and my inability to be in more regular communication complicated the issue. I hope you have a great day."
As I'm feeling brave, I responded: "Hey-Good Morning,
I am doing much better, thank you. Still a bit of a cough, but not debilitating.
It’s totally understandable that your day was restructured after I initially canceled on you. The communication has just been a bit tough because I’ll respond or ask you a question, and most of the time, I don’t receive an acknowledgment or a response. it’s almost as though you’re not getting my messages. Or, as on Friday night, I was wondering what was going on with you, and hours passed before you told me you were otherwise engaged. It’s lead me to believe you’re too busy or not that interested, and I don’t want to feel like I’m bothering you or chasing after you for answers, so I’ve backed off."
He responds: "I understand and will take some time to consider your thoughts.
I'm sorry to have put you in that space.
In the meantime, I hope you continue to feel better. Have a great afternoon."
I respond: "Thank you for being receptive.
I hope you have a lovely
afternoon, too."
I have no idea if he'll write me again or what he even means. I'd still be interested if the communication thing was cleared up, but I'm trying to stay detached.
11. Before I go to bed tonight, I still have to
- Finish getting my application, resume, and samples together
- Write a rough draft of the newest blog
- Come up with a quote for Marissa
Oh, and have I mentioned that I have a cold? No rest for the weary. In times like this, I miss the fuck out of John. Then I need to stabilize my self: Ain't nobody got time for that.