06/12/00
"...who'd have thought that I would have the guts to change? We can try to live a lie, you'd hate me just the same...honey, please don't cry, I'm sorry and ashamed...I've forgotten what it was in you that put the need in me..."
Let me just begin by stating that I have a killer fucking headache. Which is part of the reason why I'm not at work nor have I been all day. BAD ME. I just couldn't do it. I woke up last night because of a cat fight (literally, two of crazy ass bitch next door's fucking cats) under my bedroom windows at 11:00 and I had the worst sinus headache...it kept me up off and on all night and I STILL have it. So I called in sick to work because of that and because I had an interview this morning anyway and because I just can't stomach the thought of going to that godawful fucking place. Not after a night of no sleep and pain and bad dreams and gnashing teeth and yowling cats and barking dogs. I'm at that point where I now have to be mentally in a "happy place" before I can even begin to deal with that job.
Okay, so, we went to the lake. Got there Friday night around 9:00. By 9:00 Saturday morning, we were having a shrieking match on the porch of the incredibly shitty cabin we were renting (under which something had recently died and was smelling up to high heaven) and providing quite a show for the people in the cabin next door. By 1:00 we had loaded the car and the dogs and were on our way home and barely speaking to each other, and I had told her to find someone else to go to Florida with her or cancel the reservations because I wasn't going anywhere with her because I just can't fucking take it anymore.
I still can't believe we were ever even there.
We didn't go anywhere. The dogs made sure of that because Neurotic Noodle can't bear to be left alone for longer than 30 minutes and she just sat in the cabin and barked the whole time we were gone (so we were told when we went into town for groceries). The weather was absolutely shitty--cloudy, rainy, and downright chilly. The dogs were extremely poorly behaved, the girls felt they had to chase after anyone they saw and bark like idiots. Kee-rist. And Megan was a total rag-a-matic the whole ten hours we were there, except for the ones in which she was asleep. She actually got pissed at me because I wouldn't kiss her in the cabin with the curtains open. Uh, hell-LO, this is SOUTH MISSOURI, for fucking out loud, they marry their first cousins down here, so unless you want to become the bitch of some fat half-wit named "Bucky" I suggest you "straighten up" at least long enough for me to pull the fucking curtains... Perhaps that makes me "internally homophobic?" I think it makes me "fond of living," rather.
Suffice to say it wasn't a grand experience.
We talked some more on the way home but it was just the same fucking crap over and over again. The same shit we've said a million times. I think she knows as well as I do that we make better friends than lovers and that's probably where we're going to end up.
I think in my mind, that's where we already are. The "dead old lady bed" is starting to look better to me every night.
I talked to Zak yesterday. He asked me "were the dogs that bad?" and I told him it had less to do with the dogs and more to do with us hating each other. He said that he thought we were "buddies," nudge nudge wink wink, and I said, yes, but you know, shit happens. He didn't say anything else about it. He did tell me that his mother has pancreatic cancer with liver mets. I don't know if he realizes just how short that kind of prognosis is, but I didn't tell him. He picked her a bouquet of wildflowers at the field yesterday morning. I told him to come get some of my geraniums before the humidity and rain beat them to death. He was going to pick the roses on the memorial at the nursing home where the field is (it's an AIDS hospice home) and I told him not to and he said "fuck them, my fucking mom's dying." Then we both shut up. His dog found a baby rabbit, which he rescued, which Noodle then finished off. We talked about plants and I mentioned how amazed I was that my tomato plants are actually blooming and that I've managed to not kill them.
It's amazing how many times "death" and "dying" and "killed" come up in regular conversation and you only notice when someone close to one of the parties involved in the conversation is dying.
Megan and I went for a walk last night (because I caught sight of my ass in a 4-way mirror at Steinmart and realized something MUST be done) and we walked past Zak's house. You could actually smell pot from the street when you stood in front of it. I'm not condemning his actions. I'm just thinking that he could really use a friend right now and I don't know how to be that, nor how warmly I would be received.
Maybe that's why I have no friends, because I suck at being one. I'm really not the gal you want to call up in a crisis. I freak out way too easy. Or I say something really fucking stupid. Or whatever it is you want from me, I give you the exact opposite.
I'm just so bad at dealing with trauma.
So this place I interviewed at today, they're a medical recruiter, from office personnel to doctors. And the president of the company interviewed me and on the spot told me she wanted me to consider working for her, recruiting med students for residencies. Holy shit. She had me meet with the person I'd work mostly for--the director of physician recruiting--and she seemed like one of those people who are so damn perfect they came straight out of a Tony Robbins seminar. She was really nice, and I'm sure I could work with her. I'm really thinking I want the job. She told me to sleep on it and give her a call tomorrow. I think I definitely will. It may not be the kind of thing I want to do forever, but then again...
And I think I've pretty much decided against law school. That isn't who I want to be. Anybody can be a fucking lawyer.
I've given some thought to teaching. I think I'd really enjoy teaching speech and/or theatre and/or English Lit at an undergrad level. Not high school--I hate the whole public high school scene, but I think I would excel in the higher education arena. So it's something for me to look into, at least. And I am definitely going to continue writing. Last night I actually began working on the "project" (I can't call them manuscripts or stories or whatever, to me it's always a "project") I've had in mind for quite some time now.
I am definintely moving but I'm not sure in which direction. Sometimes it's damn hard to stay grounded.
And often it's very hard not to cry. I just feel so completely overwhelmed. Everything I thought my life was going to be...wasn't...and I don't know what path I'm supposed to take.
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