Onwards
Trying so desperately hard to make this a habit. I think it's good for me. I also like an excuse to type that isn't riddled with performance anxiety.
Halloween tomorrow! I am dutifully painting my nails and researching the most potent punch I can find. Also doing a make-up test run and putting together my outfit. This will be the first time Greg experiences my social circle as it is all together. He's experienced fragments so far, we'll see what he makes of it. I hope he doesn't feel pressured to drink too much, because he gets really angry and paranoid when he drinks, which isn't at all pleasant. I mean, personally I think he should try fortifying his spine with some fucking nerve, enough at least to resist peer pressure, but some things are best left unsaid to keep the peace.
Work is slowly becoming more bearable, the busy time is almost done and I'm transferring soon. There are a couple of graduate jobs I'm going for as well, so here's hoping I get them. Or, at least an interview for them. I'd like to at least feel desirable.
Speaking of which, the sex thing and Greg are sort of knitting together a bit. He's become very anxious about it now that stress has killed my sex drive. Time was I'd be bruised on most occasions. Now I'm lucky if I even feel it after. Tender and loving *is* nice, but sometimes it's just not enough, which hardly kindles anything that might be there. The spark is still there, but he shies from it. It's so frustrating. If it wasn't a ticket to a head full of guilt, I'd start spiking him with anxiety meds. Because, seriously.
Transitional periods in life are a pain. I want stability, still. I crave to know I can live my life as I please, rather than pleasing other people so that I can get by. I'm working a job I don't care about so I can have my independence, paying upkeep for a house I can barely stand to be in and writing things I'm only half interested in for the experience and credit.
I have zero problem paying my dues. I'd rather work for things than have them handed to me, for sure. It's just the uncertainty of building a life that kills me. It doesn't feel like it's mine yet.
Halloween tomorrow! I am dutifully painting my nails and researching the most potent punch I can find. Also doing a make-up test run and putting together my outfit. This will be the first time Greg experiences my social circle as it is all together. He's experienced fragments so far, we'll see what he makes of it. I hope he doesn't feel pressured to drink too much, because he gets really angry and paranoid when he drinks, which isn't at all pleasant. I mean, personally I think he should try fortifying his spine with some fucking nerve, enough at least to resist peer pressure, but some things are best left unsaid to keep the peace.
Work is slowly becoming more bearable, the busy time is almost done and I'm transferring soon. There are a couple of graduate jobs I'm going for as well, so here's hoping I get them. Or, at least an interview for them. I'd like to at least feel desirable.
Speaking of which, the sex thing and Greg are sort of knitting together a bit. He's become very anxious about it now that stress has killed my sex drive. Time was I'd be bruised on most occasions. Now I'm lucky if I even feel it after. Tender and loving *is* nice, but sometimes it's just not enough, which hardly kindles anything that might be there. The spark is still there, but he shies from it. It's so frustrating. If it wasn't a ticket to a head full of guilt, I'd start spiking him with anxiety meds. Because, seriously.
Transitional periods in life are a pain. I want stability, still. I crave to know I can live my life as I please, rather than pleasing other people so that I can get by. I'm working a job I don't care about so I can have my independence, paying upkeep for a house I can barely stand to be in and writing things I'm only half interested in for the experience and credit.
I have zero problem paying my dues. I'd rather work for things than have them handed to me, for sure. It's just the uncertainty of building a life that kills me. It doesn't feel like it's mine yet.