Susan and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
Which, funnily enough, started extremely well. This morning was very good indeed. Apartment-hunting good, happy-and-excited good, finally-taking-a-tangible-step-toward my future good. Concupiscently good, even, and how often do I get to say that these days? Jessa and I had made the definite decision to cohabit a 2-bedroom apartment in Urbana, and spent the morning finding several very promising places to examine in greater detail in the coming week. I fully expected to sign a lease next Sunday, and was delighted at the prospect of living with one of my closest friends.
As I headed out of Urbana, Jessa called to tell me that, once she'd gotten back to her apartment and began to take in the idea of leaving it, she had realized that she would be happier staying where she was and rescinded her decision to be my roommate. Certainty often comes to Jessa in a flash of revelation that induces a 180-degree change, so I know she wasn't leading me on about the apartment, but I can never keep up with these sudden realizations. This one rather threw me for a loop, and so flummoxed was I that I stopped paying attention to the road. I missed my turnoff completely, and since all highways in Central Illinois look the same (corn field, soy field, corn field, farmhouse, soy field) I was halfway across the state in Bloomington before I realized my error.
I made it home all right (well, obviously) and even made decent time doing so, but during the rest of the night I have fallen down the stairs, burned my popcorn, spilled the salvaged popcorn and butter all over the carpet, somehow angered my sister, was reminded that the therapist I had finally found was, at the last minute, not covered by my insurance, and other such minor annoyances. Normally, I barely notice those, but tonight they are adding up.
I'm not angry at Jessa or anything-- as I told her, "I don't really get it, but I certainly respect it, and it's not like I'm going to make you live with me,"-- but I am, at the moment, sorely disappointed that yet another of my plans has fallen through. I was supposed to be in grad school by now; I was supposed to have gotten a job in the city and moved out of my parents' place by August. I was supposed to be taking classes at MCC. I was so close this time, and so excited to have taken a step in any direction that would ensure that the next year would not be as depressing and as wasteful and as dull as this one has been. Now I have to start from square one, again, and I'm getting really tired of it. I'm good at accepting setbacks and working around them-- I learned from the best-- but dammit, when is something finally going to go right?
Sigh.
Evaluate. Process. Formulate a new plan. Move on. Smile. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
At least the concupiscent bit remains untainted. I miss Andy, goddamnit.
As I headed out of Urbana, Jessa called to tell me that, once she'd gotten back to her apartment and began to take in the idea of leaving it, she had realized that she would be happier staying where she was and rescinded her decision to be my roommate. Certainty often comes to Jessa in a flash of revelation that induces a 180-degree change, so I know she wasn't leading me on about the apartment, but I can never keep up with these sudden realizations. This one rather threw me for a loop, and so flummoxed was I that I stopped paying attention to the road. I missed my turnoff completely, and since all highways in Central Illinois look the same (corn field, soy field, corn field, farmhouse, soy field) I was halfway across the state in Bloomington before I realized my error.
I made it home all right (well, obviously) and even made decent time doing so, but during the rest of the night I have fallen down the stairs, burned my popcorn, spilled the salvaged popcorn and butter all over the carpet, somehow angered my sister, was reminded that the therapist I had finally found was, at the last minute, not covered by my insurance, and other such minor annoyances. Normally, I barely notice those, but tonight they are adding up.
I'm not angry at Jessa or anything-- as I told her, "I don't really get it, but I certainly respect it, and it's not like I'm going to make you live with me,"-- but I am, at the moment, sorely disappointed that yet another of my plans has fallen through. I was supposed to be in grad school by now; I was supposed to have gotten a job in the city and moved out of my parents' place by August. I was supposed to be taking classes at MCC. I was so close this time, and so excited to have taken a step in any direction that would ensure that the next year would not be as depressing and as wasteful and as dull as this one has been. Now I have to start from square one, again, and I'm getting really tired of it. I'm good at accepting setbacks and working around them-- I learned from the best-- but dammit, when is something finally going to go right?
Sigh.
Evaluate. Process. Formulate a new plan. Move on. Smile. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
At least the concupiscent bit remains untainted. I miss Andy, goddamnit.