Writer Guy is not leaving. He's upheaving his entire life, but he's choosing to do so locally. Good news for me.
We went out to dinner last night and, seriously kids, I came home and explained to my roommates that I was rather afraid he was going to off himself (he gave me no actual indication that he might do so, but if you could have seen the look on his face, you would've thought the same thing). I called him at two o'clock today and he was sleeping, but whatever he was alive. As of tonight he sounded like a normal, functioning human being again. Although he called to see if I have fingerpaints. It's a long story that's much funnier if I don't explain. Suffice it to say, I understand and I don't think he's crazy. We're going out tomorrow night and I'm pretty sure everything will be relatively normal.
(It led me to say "Okay, so, no more Projects. I know. I said I would indulge the confused depression for one week. It apparently only took five days. How long does one indulge fingerpainting?" The conclusion was that as long as he's not making paintings of his hand and turning them into turkeys and expecting me to hang them on my fridge, it's quite variable.)
I've written about this before, but I want the record to show... one more time... yeah, that's right. Gets too close to mary ann and entire life falls apart. I don't know how I do this. But I am beginning to feel like it's my [unintentional] fault. I can't find the entry right now and I'm not feeling patient... But suffice it to say, this isn't the first, second or even third time this has happened to me. Not exclusively with significant others, but also roommates.
Maybe it's just that I find the projects in the making. I remember when Waste and I first got together he was like "You told So-and-So you wanted to fix me?" and I was like "Oh, about that.... sorry?" and he was like "No one has ever cared enough to try to fix me."... Yes, I admit now, I should have gotten the fuck away right then and there. I know. And I am willing to tell everyone (hi, Mom, Shelly, Nikki, Chris, etc.) that you were right and I was wrong.
I know that boyfriend should not equal project. Roommate should not equal project. Friend should not equal project. LB and I aren't friends anymore because I didn't want to be her project. I do know better. And I have already promised myself and my friends and now the world...
No More Projects. I am going to let other people live their lives. My life is a mess and I need to fix it and not everyone else's (I'm channelling Jeff here.) Unsolicited advice, sure. Driving people around and coercing them to apply for jobs? No more.
Ellie's wedding is getting messy. First her parents wanted her to wait until April. Then they told her to elope tomorrow. I don't know what's happening and I don't think she does either.
I have to get to Cincinnati soon to help my mother prepare for the Big Family Christmas. It's taking place at her house. She's offered to come and get me at any time. I haven't figured out when I'm going yet. I have an appointment on Monday and I really do best with Mom in small doses. I'm afraid if I go up Friday or Saturday she's going to want to keep me all the way to Christmas. I just don't think I can manage that long without a screaming fight. Not that I even know what we'd fight about, it just seems likely.
The unemployment office called today. The temp agency is causing the problems with my benefits, but the woman told me she really thinks it's all going to get worked out and my next check will be fine. If it's not, I guess I'll have to hit my mother up for my rent. What a daunting prospect.
And my watch stopped working today. It seems to work for a couple hours and then it just stops. I don't know.
I am not pleased with the end of The Amazing Race, but I will live.
Oh and I have smoked 12 cigarettes since 2 pm today.