012
Three months I've been here. Never thought I'd want to make a post about the upsides of the place.
Still don't, sorry. Nothing against the city; for the last gasp of a dying brain you probably strike it lucky getting thrown into a disney theme park gone wrong. And at least if I'm dying I don't feel like it. I don't feel sick.
Actually, I've been feeling good. I'm working for House and for myself, which is fine, because it pays pretty damn well, and because I've worked for the guy so long now I don't know how to make a diagnosis without being told I'm an idiot at least twice before someone agrees with me. I'm happy working for him.
The work's not too different to what I'm used to, a lot of people with conditions that shouldn't exist but do, even if that condition happens to be fuzzy cat ears that drop off when you get laid. It's interesting. Feels like I get to learn something new.
Like don't hit on the catgirls.
And then there's the sex. That's good, too. It would be better if it was with one person instead of two, and if either of them actually wanted to be with me instead of just jumping me because they can't have somebody else. But it's been good, and they're... both incredible. Both of them make me happy, just being around. So maybe I can hallucinate them wanting me, but I can't pretend I'd deserve them.
I know I agreed it was just for convenience. I know it's meant to be casual and I shouldn't want or expect more from it than that. Maybe everyone else is fine with it. But I'm scared of screwing this up or hurting someone. I can't even go to the office party because they're both going to be there and I... can't do it anymore.
My dad used to say I had a wishbone where my backbone should be. Guess he was right.
Sorry.
[ooc: open for backdating forever due to crew hiatuses. And tags back tomorrow!]
Still don't, sorry. Nothing against the city; for the last gasp of a dying brain you probably strike it lucky getting thrown into a disney theme park gone wrong. And at least if I'm dying I don't feel like it. I don't feel sick.
Actually, I've been feeling good. I'm working for House and for myself, which is fine, because it pays pretty damn well, and because I've worked for the guy so long now I don't know how to make a diagnosis without being told I'm an idiot at least twice before someone agrees with me. I'm happy working for him.
The work's not too different to what I'm used to, a lot of people with conditions that shouldn't exist but do, even if that condition happens to be fuzzy cat ears that drop off when you get laid. It's interesting. Feels like I get to learn something new.
Like don't hit on the catgirls.
And then there's the sex. That's good, too. It would be better if it was with one person instead of two, and if either of them actually wanted to be with me instead of just jumping me because they can't have somebody else. But it's been good, and they're... both incredible. Both of them make me happy, just being around. So maybe I can hallucinate them wanting me, but I can't pretend I'd deserve them.
I know I agreed it was just for convenience. I know it's meant to be casual and I shouldn't want or expect more from it than that. Maybe everyone else is fine with it. But I'm scared of screwing this up or hurting someone. I can't even go to the office party because they're both going to be there and I... can't do it anymore.
My dad used to say I had a wishbone where my backbone should be. Guess he was right.
Sorry.
[ooc: open for backdating forever due to crew hiatuses. And tags back tomorrow!]