sublime strep week
the HR guy at work called me to tell me he thinks i should take the rest of the week off and start anew next week. this, naturally, freaked me out. i feel so uncomfortable not working--like a purposeless bum. i'm so afraid that they're just going to write me off as a sickly texas girl who can't take the cold and that when i finally do get back to work, they won't take me.
but i talked to my boss and he wants me to call him this weekend to let him know how i'm doing. he's nice--they all are. i just really feel worthless without working.
last night catherine and i giggled for hours while watching sex and the city and friends. i couldn't sleep because i'd been sleeping all day, so i started listening to spanish music again and sent a teary text to alex. he really wants me to get into berkeley so i can move over there, and i do too. but most of me never wants to leave new york city.
i'm proud to say that i did not call damien at all yesterday. no e-mails, facebook, myspace--nothing. i did cry while listening to "labios compartidos," though. i wrote the lyrics on the envelope of a package i'd sent to him. he probably never read it. he probably never opened the package. he never even called me when he got it. so i sobbed and listened to the song on repeat and wondered at what point he just fell out of love with me. shawnie says i'll never know. a good journalist always finds these things out, sooner or later.
today i just watched catherine's sex and the city dvds. she's in california for a week at some extreme fitness thing and she dropped angel off, so i have the place to myself. naturally, i just put on my ipod and danced around when i had the energy, lit a bunch of candles. one episode quipped that women with multiple candles have become the new women with multiple cats. i don't care if it's true, i'll be the spinster with 50,000 godddamn candles. i keep one in the bathroom and turned off the light. at 5 p.m. it was already dark and the sun was setting. i turned off all of the lights and sat in my bathroom looking at a reflection of the sun setting--with a bloody red shade peeking out from that building whose name i haven't learned yet--with light from the candle dancing around. and i cried. because that's pretty much all i'm good at these days.
i love it when people prey on my sadness--that really renews my faith in humanity. i'm just going to ignore these opportunistic leeches that feed of any sort of happiness i may get. i don't care what kind of blackmail they have against me and i don't care about my former belief of never burning bridges. some bridges have to be burned. at least for a while.
but i talked to my boss and he wants me to call him this weekend to let him know how i'm doing. he's nice--they all are. i just really feel worthless without working.
last night catherine and i giggled for hours while watching sex and the city and friends. i couldn't sleep because i'd been sleeping all day, so i started listening to spanish music again and sent a teary text to alex. he really wants me to get into berkeley so i can move over there, and i do too. but most of me never wants to leave new york city.
i'm proud to say that i did not call damien at all yesterday. no e-mails, facebook, myspace--nothing. i did cry while listening to "labios compartidos," though. i wrote the lyrics on the envelope of a package i'd sent to him. he probably never read it. he probably never opened the package. he never even called me when he got it. so i sobbed and listened to the song on repeat and wondered at what point he just fell out of love with me. shawnie says i'll never know. a good journalist always finds these things out, sooner or later.
today i just watched catherine's sex and the city dvds. she's in california for a week at some extreme fitness thing and she dropped angel off, so i have the place to myself. naturally, i just put on my ipod and danced around when i had the energy, lit a bunch of candles. one episode quipped that women with multiple candles have become the new women with multiple cats. i don't care if it's true, i'll be the spinster with 50,000 godddamn candles. i keep one in the bathroom and turned off the light. at 5 p.m. it was already dark and the sun was setting. i turned off all of the lights and sat in my bathroom looking at a reflection of the sun setting--with a bloody red shade peeking out from that building whose name i haven't learned yet--with light from the candle dancing around. and i cried. because that's pretty much all i'm good at these days.
i love it when people prey on my sadness--that really renews my faith in humanity. i'm just going to ignore these opportunistic leeches that feed of any sort of happiness i may get. i don't care what kind of blackmail they have against me and i don't care about my former belief of never burning bridges. some bridges have to be burned. at least for a while.