Weirdness Ranked at 12
Let's get this out of the way - WOOOOOOT Djokovic won the Australian Open! If my Andy had to go out, there is no other player I'd rather have win. PLUS, he beat stupid Fedass on his way. Warms my wee heart.
Work? Sucks. I got a raise this week, but somehow it just did not balance out all the shittiness that was my week. I hate insurance companies and all my customers who don't know anything about their own insurance. Sorry if that includes you. Only not really.
Writing. Oy. I'm writing a fic that may just be the first of its kind. I know this because I keep searching for something like it around the internets and I can't find anything like it. This worries me, and I'll tell you why. Either this means I'm *highly* revolutionary in my chosen fic field (SPN) and my fic will be greeted with fanfare and canons; or it's never been done before because no one gives a rat's ass about my subject matter and no one will ever read it ever ever. I'm of course hoping for the former, but sorta kinda betting on the latter. Or there's the third option that consists of me just being a crazy person with weird thoughts who people will just raise their eyebrows at and walk away. And that's fine too.
Personal ramblings behind the cut...
So, my stupid roommate decided to start talking to her ex boyfriend again this week. Not in the "let's get back together" way, but in the "sure, enough time has passed, let's be friends!" way. That's so stupid I can't even wrap my head around it. She spent months (and I mean MONTHS, I should know, I lived with it) going around telling anyone who would listen that she was "Fine! I'm FINE!" I so very much do not want to go back to the place where she has to say that. I told her if she starts it up again, we're getting an "I'm Fine!" jar and I get a dollar for every time I hear it. So they start talking again, and I start drinking again, and then it's decided that we'd go and see his friends' band play last night. Well that's just fine.
Except for the fact that in doing so, now we're dealing with not only an ex of hers, but an ex-of-sorts of mine. Gee golly thanks. It's not that I don't deal with this sorta ex on a routine basis - he is my upstairs neighbor after all. However, we don't hang out. It's weird, and part of the reason things didn't work out, having someone you date living right above you, in the same house. Well, he's the bass player of this band we go see, and all is fine because he's up on stage and I'm conveniently not, so that works. Roommate and I are with another friend so there's a support system of someone who has not had relations with anyone in the room (also good.)
The night kicks off with a bang when Roommate's ex comes up, trashed out of his mind at 10 pm, and wants to chit chat and be all chummy and I'm not feeling it as much as "sure let's be friends!" Roommate is; but we all deal with it. It's weird, and it's awkward, and I discover my new favorite drink is Limon and Diet Coke. Delicious, you should try it. Midnight rolls around and the band finishes playing and now it's time to mingle with the crowd, and of course we stay too long and the crowd thins and lo and behold, there's Drea and the bass player all of a sudden shoulder to shoulder at the bar talking about our landlord and the ice that keep threatening to fall off the roof onto our cars in our driveway. All this time I'm thinking how weird it is that to anyone else it just sounds like we're two people living together. Ugh.
Somehow it all comes about that Roommate and the ex, the bass player, me and our highly amused other friend are going to move on to the next bar. I'm not worrying about the grammar of that sentence, because the only thing that matters is the *weirdness.* We get in, get our drinks, get settled, and I look around the table and wonder who booted up their time machine and took us all back 10 months to where this situation would actually make sense. We closed down the bar, chatting about school and becoming grown ups and the weirdness of Roommate and the ex, because the ex's even newer ex walked in, just adding another level of weird to the night.
Then it was breakfast time, so we all piled in the car and went to Perkins, where the bass player and I shared food and drank coffee and talked about television with my friend who was now calling herself the fifth wheel while I kicked her under the table repeatedly. Really long and weird story short, we got home at 4 am, dropping the ex off at his home - he seriously looked like a puppy being dropped off at the pound, I don't know what he expected, Roommate has a current bf and she's not THAT dumb, thank God. Of course taking bass player home meant him just coming home with us, cause he lives UPSTAIRS, and the girls went in and I let the dogs out and had this really awkward moment where it was just the two of us standing outside like, errrr now what?
Now nothing, I decided. HE was the one who decided we didn't "click" and thought it would be better if we didn't continue things. So if HE wanted to make a move, it was all up to him. I'm not going there again, I'm not that desperate. So I gave him a one-armed hug, told him I had a fun night, and went inside. So there. End of weirdness. Until the next time I see him in the driveway and have no idea what to say. Great. Juuuuuust great.
Work? Sucks. I got a raise this week, but somehow it just did not balance out all the shittiness that was my week. I hate insurance companies and all my customers who don't know anything about their own insurance. Sorry if that includes you. Only not really.
Writing. Oy. I'm writing a fic that may just be the first of its kind. I know this because I keep searching for something like it around the internets and I can't find anything like it. This worries me, and I'll tell you why. Either this means I'm *highly* revolutionary in my chosen fic field (SPN) and my fic will be greeted with fanfare and canons; or it's never been done before because no one gives a rat's ass about my subject matter and no one will ever read it ever ever. I'm of course hoping for the former, but sorta kinda betting on the latter. Or there's the third option that consists of me just being a crazy person with weird thoughts who people will just raise their eyebrows at and walk away. And that's fine too.
Personal ramblings behind the cut...
So, my stupid roommate decided to start talking to her ex boyfriend again this week. Not in the "let's get back together" way, but in the "sure, enough time has passed, let's be friends!" way. That's so stupid I can't even wrap my head around it. She spent months (and I mean MONTHS, I should know, I lived with it) going around telling anyone who would listen that she was "Fine! I'm FINE!" I so very much do not want to go back to the place where she has to say that. I told her if she starts it up again, we're getting an "I'm Fine!" jar and I get a dollar for every time I hear it. So they start talking again, and I start drinking again, and then it's decided that we'd go and see his friends' band play last night. Well that's just fine.
Except for the fact that in doing so, now we're dealing with not only an ex of hers, but an ex-of-sorts of mine. Gee golly thanks. It's not that I don't deal with this sorta ex on a routine basis - he is my upstairs neighbor after all. However, we don't hang out. It's weird, and part of the reason things didn't work out, having someone you date living right above you, in the same house. Well, he's the bass player of this band we go see, and all is fine because he's up on stage and I'm conveniently not, so that works. Roommate and I are with another friend so there's a support system of someone who has not had relations with anyone in the room (also good.)
The night kicks off with a bang when Roommate's ex comes up, trashed out of his mind at 10 pm, and wants to chit chat and be all chummy and I'm not feeling it as much as "sure let's be friends!" Roommate is; but we all deal with it. It's weird, and it's awkward, and I discover my new favorite drink is Limon and Diet Coke. Delicious, you should try it. Midnight rolls around and the band finishes playing and now it's time to mingle with the crowd, and of course we stay too long and the crowd thins and lo and behold, there's Drea and the bass player all of a sudden shoulder to shoulder at the bar talking about our landlord and the ice that keep threatening to fall off the roof onto our cars in our driveway. All this time I'm thinking how weird it is that to anyone else it just sounds like we're two people living together. Ugh.
Somehow it all comes about that Roommate and the ex, the bass player, me and our highly amused other friend are going to move on to the next bar. I'm not worrying about the grammar of that sentence, because the only thing that matters is the *weirdness.* We get in, get our drinks, get settled, and I look around the table and wonder who booted up their time machine and took us all back 10 months to where this situation would actually make sense. We closed down the bar, chatting about school and becoming grown ups and the weirdness of Roommate and the ex, because the ex's even newer ex walked in, just adding another level of weird to the night.
Then it was breakfast time, so we all piled in the car and went to Perkins, where the bass player and I shared food and drank coffee and talked about television with my friend who was now calling herself the fifth wheel while I kicked her under the table repeatedly. Really long and weird story short, we got home at 4 am, dropping the ex off at his home - he seriously looked like a puppy being dropped off at the pound, I don't know what he expected, Roommate has a current bf and she's not THAT dumb, thank God. Of course taking bass player home meant him just coming home with us, cause he lives UPSTAIRS, and the girls went in and I let the dogs out and had this really awkward moment where it was just the two of us standing outside like, errrr now what?
Now nothing, I decided. HE was the one who decided we didn't "click" and thought it would be better if we didn't continue things. So if HE wanted to make a move, it was all up to him. I'm not going there again, I'm not that desperate. So I gave him a one-armed hug, told him I had a fun night, and went inside. So there. End of weirdness. Until the next time I see him in the driveway and have no idea what to say. Great. Juuuuuust great.