Life is Busting out ALL Over!

Archive for the ‘ex-boyfriend’ Category

3336432680_22c0a185d92Another Austin Sunset from Pennypacker Bridge – photo credit

The week before last I hit a wall. My breaking point, if you will. After almost exactly 4 months in a new city in a new state (which feels like the other side of the world), in a new job in a new environment and going from corporate to a government employee (in the crudest sense of the word, but it’s so evident in how different things operate not to mention s–l–o–w), my brain went on strike. All the new information, the new faces and names, my brain had reached it’s capacity.

This week, the semester is over, save for finals but as far as I’m concerned, my semester ended for me when I hit the wall. It was as if all the information I had consciously and unconsciously absorbed since 2009 started was swirling around at such a fast pace that there simply wasn’t enough room for anything else. The effect on me, was one I felt deeply, as I desperately wanted something, anything to find a tether and bring it back down to settle, at the very least so I could get used to it.

It was also during these past few weeks that I have longed for Chicago. I think missing is too soft of a word. I would have typed ‘desperately missing’ but I’m trying to keep my use of desperate to once a post – lest I need to create a category for it (but there’s 3 so far, bygones). It’s not a new feeling, I have missed it greatly since I’ve left and tried to push it away.  But as my lifeline to the world, others call Facebook, kept commenting how great the weather has been, I could feel my heartstrings pull north.

The weather is great in Texas as well… for August as I know it to be. It has been no less than 95 degrees with such humidity I have to check with others that Houston in fact has it worse, so I can be grateful for something. I don’t hate the heat but fall has always been my favorite season. It’s really not the heat (and I know I shouldn’t complain) it’s the lack of build up to the heat that has thrown me and made me homesick. I loved this time of year in Chicago, when the weather, for however many glimpses, allowed us to shake off the hibernation and start to venture outside for walks on the lakefront or gather together for grilling out, when the sun shone just long enough to bring out the skirts and if it was too cold by the end of the day leaving work, it didn’t matter because we knew of what was to come. And it’s why I loved living in the city. The heartbeat that maintained a steady pulse throughout the winter months so that the build up of energy could explode in the summer.

I suppose that the winter months in Austin could represent the same thing but having experienced for the first time, my natural biorhythms were not used to it yet. The strangest thing has happened, though, since I’ve hit that wall. I’ve really started to enjoy myself, and enjoy Austin tremendously.

I’ve forged a strong friendship with a co-worker in which has taken me to the most beautiful spot to watch a sunset in Austin, a long night of talking and sharing and relating even though we are in two very different stages of our lives, and I’d never thought I’d say it: a fantastic old school Texan honkytonk. A great bond with her daughter, the cutest 3.5 year old on the planet, who shares my love for belting out The Sound of Music, who runs to me for hugs, was the first one to notice my new hair cut and who won’t leave me alone, when she comes to see her mom after day care, until I promise once again that “Yes, I promise to watch Bolt with you.”

I have made amends with a relationship that was very hard to let go, endured an ongoing saga with the one who let me down only for him  to realize that I was indeed that One, something I had known in my heart all along but could never trust that feeling enough. I somehow found the strength that words were just words and follow through was just more important and all of it was no longer what I, the one who had waited to hear it, wanted. I finally realized that letting him go was the best thing I could do for me, even if it meant hurting him, something I did not want to be responsible for after he had had a lifetime of hurt. But not being honest with him would have cut his scarred wounds even deeper. I knew I loved him enough to let him go and when I finally saw through the smoke that he didn’t love me enough to do the same, I closed the chapter. I am someone who can find a way to make anything work , and on the eve on what would have been our 5th anniversary, I forgave myself for exerting so much energy on something that would not, or was not meant to, work. Months of not knowing which was the right thing to do, showed itself when all I felt was relief once it was all said and done for good.

I have found a new hair stylist, in the cutest little yellow house in South Austin, who is honest and promises on what she delivers and whose cut does not stop receiving compliments. I bought tickets to a music festival I can NOT wait for, even though I might have to tolerate more heat than I want for October and still am trying to figure out how to get there without driving. I think 5 months is enough time to figure it out.

I hosted my mom for Mother’s Day this past weekend on her very first trip to Austin. I dragged the poor woman through hikes and outdoors in blazing heat and she still couldn’t find relief in my car which holds the little air condition that really could not hold up (fingers crossed for the summer!). With all the tours and the restaurants I’ve been dying to try but had not yet, I realized how great this part of the country I live in really is. And how lucky I am to be here. When I hugged her goodbye at the airport, I realized that the only thing I wanted to do was get back in my extraordinarily hot car, now blowing hot air instead of A/C, and get on to work and at the end of the day, back home, yes home, to my apartment. I smiled the whole way.

I ended my first semester with more relief than I thought I’d feel. I received thank you notes from students for whom I only did what I could, just trying to get by on my first outing. I became a mentor for some, and found mentors in others. Even if their phones are fancier than mine and they are on the brink of I life I wouldn’t choose for myself, I have learned far more from them than I had hoped to give to them. I have had little signs along the way that wink at me letting me know I’m headed in the right direction.

I am happy. I think I was afraid to be happy here, where my connections are few and my roots are struggling to break through the thick, thick Texan limestone. But they will. And I’m ready to be present through every experience that those roots’ struggles and eventual successes might bring.

That wall, the one that I hit where I threw up my hands in frustration, broke me. But it also broke my expectations of how I should feel and through it I found a way to climb over the wall and now can see over the other side.


Yes, this post is mostly about wallpaper. It’s also about the ex but frankly I care more about the wallpaper.

So, as I’m continuing my job hunt I’m living with my parents in the house I moved into at the age of 6, left at 18 for college, and then again at 22 for the city of Chicago. My parents have sights on moving in the next couple of years for whereabouts unknown and honestly, I don’t really see it happening. But they want to. However, not without significant upgrades on the house before they can sell it. (This is what I think will keep them here longer, replacing carpet, painting, replanting, barely one project is tackled and finished. They’re still working full-time so I’m cutting them some slack).

I am very thankful for their generosity in letting me stay here while I seek out the right position for me and they don’t lay on the guilt at all. But I feel guilty. I feel like I should be doing something to say thank you, to contribute, to let them know I’m not looking for a free ride or anything. This is where the wallpaper comes in.

Shortly after I came back home, my mother gives me these paint swatches and says “Pick out a color for you and your sister’s bathroom”. (First of all, I love that even though her two children are grown, both of our bedrooms are referred to as our bedroom and the bathroom we fought over and in, is still “our” bathroom. I find it sweet.) I got all excited because, well, I love decorating and decorating ideas even if I really have nothing to show for it in my past apartments. I’ve already started brainstorming what I want to do in my next apartment, down to the end and entry tables I want, that I will paint and what prints will adorn the walls. All of it bookmarked for my daydreams and when the time comes, to be purchased.

My dad was less than thrilled because as I excitedly showed him the colors I wanted to use and paint myself, I realized that he was not clued into this little project. Eventually. He said. Bummed, I told him the help wouldn’t be here to do it when it came time (little did I know! Crap!).

This weekend he decided to stain the deck again, one of their updating projects they actually completed. I’m not sure if was because I wanted to help or what but he told me my project was to strip the wallpaper in my bathroom. YES!!! A virgin to stripping wallpaper and painting, I was terribly excited and completely naive in that I thought I could get it all stripped in one day.

People, it is DAY 3 and I’m almost halfway done. This wallpaper is a bitch, it deserves its’ own circle of hell and I think I want to write a bill that will replace the death penalty with stripping wallpaper. My father told me that if done right, the thing should come off in full strips. Well, after I scored it, and soaked it in solution, it is coming off in little bitty chunks leaving a residue behind that I have to use my fingernails to scrape off. My first “strip” took me about 4 hours. Thank goodness, dad came in to “demonstrate” how it should be done so he found out first hand how difficult it was. I felt vindicated.

Turns out this is 25 year old vinyl wallpaper. Vinyl is water resistent. One key thing to stripping wallpaper? Soaking it in a water mix. Yah. Fun in the sun, alright. I also found a hole in the wall as I was taking off the towel rack. It’s been blocked by the towel. Ones that I barely use since I’ve been back and never used whenever I stayed here for holidays. It’s a trophy towel of sorts. The perpetrator of said hole? Me. I vaguely remember trying to do pull ups on the towel rack when I was a kid, and pulled the towel racks out of socket and causing some of the plaster to cave in. What a dumb ass. I hated pull ups and was always too tall for my age that it was a struggle in gym class. Why did I every want to do a pull up on a towel rack?? (Although I was clearly not bright or had a penchant for putting holes in walls as I would do gymnastics on my bed and promptly put my foot through my bedroom wall thanks to a badly placed handstand-ish thing. That one got patched. This one? Not so much).

My goal is to complete this god forsaken exercise by the weekend, in which I can finally relish in the paint selection and new fixtures. I mentioned I bookmark some home decor stuff I love, I also subscribe to an RSS feed that gives daily deals to various linens and home furnishings. Not of which I can purchase yet, but I will. OH, I WILL! Anyway, I open it up yesterday to read that wallpaper is coming back into style and is on trend. Oh, HELL NO.

Finally, a little update on the Ex. After weeks of fighting over IM, because he does not have the balls to call or see me in person, even though I’ve been here for a month. I completely ended things. All communication. Done. I hadn’t wanted to see him to get back together with him, or to make bad life decisions (that is his motivation, however) merely get my stuff back and to perhaps to give the end of the relationship some dignity.

He told me awhile ago, his ex-girlfriend (most serious relationship before me, they stayed best friends. I don’t get that. Wasn’t jealous, just didn’t get it. Every time I tried to get him to move on, I used how he did it from that relationship, he told me we were much closer than he had been with her) and he had had a massive blowup and were no longer speaking. In our last conversation, he told me they had reconciled their friendship. Oh, I asked, did you do this over IM? (because he hates the phone and never invited me to meet up like he claimed he wanted to do and this is the only way we communicate)

Nope. They MET FOR COFFEE AND CRIBBAGE. Oh really? So you have no problem calling her and meeting her and you can’t do that with someone you felt closer to?? In my defense, I did not act like a jealous ex-girlfriend but like a pissed off ex-girlfriend who realized that the had never made her a priority, would never make her a priority and was shamed into thinking that continuing a friendship without a reminder of this was plausible.

That was that. I washed my hands of it. It’s been 11 days since this happened, and I feel stronger every day. I realize we’ve been broken up for awhile but I still was holding on to something that he could never be, something that I’ve held onto for way too long. It was good to let that go.

Now, if the wallpaper would only give in a little bit, I’d be golden.

I view Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind in a whole new light now. But wouldn’t rehab be nice? It should have really great beds that you can just sink into, making sleep so easy. Go away for 30 days, have someone there through detox of emotions, all the sappy movies you can cry to, other people to go to group with and learn and analyze. And then when you are done, you walk out of there with behaviors in check, the fear gone and a new lease on life.

I knew this was going to happen, that I had put my heart on pause while I was in school. We’ve been broken up for 9 months, haven’t seen each other in 11 months. Now I’m back in Chicago-ish, and I’m having to really face the reality of this situation. I keep thinking I should be more moved on than I am, that I should be through the hard part. I’m not.

It’s not the break up that I’m mourning but the remnants of loving someone for 4 years. We didn’t break up because there wasn’t love there, it just wasn’t enough. When it comes down to the big values stuff, we are on two opposite sides of the spectrum. He’s been denied unconditional love from a parent and thus views life as a series of relationships and that love is the ultimate of power relationships. I believe love is a partnership, a unified front for whatever life throws your way, a foundation that can build a richer life.

We are still friends. We still communicate, but in a very technological way, no actual speaking other than through IM and text. This takes the edge off. It makes it easier for me to break down the words and the discussions and realize that he could never provide the type of relationship that creates the love we could build upon.

I do not want to get back together. Actually, I don’t know what I want anymore. I remind myself of the values I hold closest to my heart, he does not and we would continue to go round in circles. We have tried to find time to see each other, if only to exchange our “stuff”, only for him to put many other plans on many different occasions before me. I am now the only woman he wants to be with, or could ever want to be with. I have seen the light, and that is hard. I know that while he wants me, his actions have shown that he does not, nor do they show that they understand me.

My entire life has been based on the idea that I can make anything work. So what if situations occur in ways in which I did not foresee or present greater challenges? I can make it work. I will make it work. I have made it work. But this relationship? This relationship I can no longer make work. This is what I am mourning. The effort and the time I invested has left my heart little and shriveled. The greatest thing about me, that I love with every fiber and I lock it in, has left me out to dry.

So I am walking away from the one thing I could not make work. I know it’s not my fault and I know that I was put on this path to learn and nudge me to walk on one in which I will be rewarded. But the care and the love I have for him is still there, the desire for him to be happy and find what is right for him is there, even if that right thing is not me.

I know I will be okay. I really, really do. I just want to get there. I want my heart to be regrown and stronger than it was before. It will. It will be ready for that time when everything does just work, organically and instinctively, like I know I deserve. But it’s the road from here until there that is tough. The road on which I start and stop and break down and try again.

Calm down
Deep breaths
And get yourself dressed instead
Of running around
And pulling on your threads and
Breaking yourself up

If it’s a broken part, replace it
If it’s a broken arm then brace it
If it’s a broken heart then face it

And hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way
Hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way

And everything will be fine

Hang on
Help is on the way
Stay strong
I’m doing everything

Hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way
Hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way

And everything
Everything will be fine

Are the details in the fabric
Are the things that make you panic
Are your thoughts results of static cling?

Are the things that make you blow
Hell, no reason, go on and scream
If you’re shocked it’s just the fault
Of faulty manufacturing.

Everything will be fine
Everything in no time at all

Hold your own
Know your name
Go your own way

Are the details in the fabric
Are the things that make you panic
Are your thoughts results of static cling?

Are the details in the fabric
Are the things that make you panic
Is it Mother Nature’s sewing machine?
Are the things that make you blow
Hell no reason go on and scream
If you’re shocked it’s just the fault
Of faulty manufacturing

Everything will be fine
Everything in no time at all
Hearts will hold

Details in the Fabric, Jason Mraz

Dear Ex,

What’s up? As you know I’m dealing with a fairly significant life decision at the moment, do I move to Georgia or return to Chicago? And as of 3pm this afternoon, let’s throw Boston into the mix. I realize that I do not actually have offers yet. But I’m going on campus and I’m a finalist and as far as I’m concerned it’s my job to lose. I OWN those jobs, because the new me, the one you had the distinct judgment to decide you no longer want a relationship with only to sort of change your mind and ‘come to your senses’, that one… well, that’s just how she rolls.

Now, I know the break up was not just one sided. It was very much a mutual decision. I had, for probably a year too long, observed the constant changing of your mind on a spectrum of things. The marriage and family thing, while not initially a big deal slowly became one for me and it manifested into a deal breaker. One from which I will not budge. But you, you who wanted nothing to do with it, were proving in every which way that you had the capability to change your mind again on those issues. I wasn’t going to make you, but I knew (and I know) that once you finally grow a pair and deal with your daddy issues, that will be the direction you will head. I had hoped it would be with me.

So when we resumed this “friendship” that felt an awful lot like our old relationship, I think we both drifted into the fantasy realm of what could be. I know I did. Again. You have that effect on me. And honestly, telling me things like you can’t imagine being with anyone else does. not. help. So for your future’s sake, don’t say that unless you are willing to deal with the sincerity of those words and the feelings of the one who hears it.

I should have known better. I should have known better not to discuss the stress of the impending decision of where I will live with you. For one, things like “I could be a Red Sox fan but I could never be a Braves fan” are not proper responses to an ex-girlfriend, implying you would be willing to move, or to a Cubs fan, for that matter. WGN will reach me, thanks. Also trivializing my need to process should not be chalked up to something, which is “very first year grad student”. As long as I’m ripping you a new one, I will go on to respond that I study College Student Development and processing is very key to reaching a student. It allows them to understand their own empowerment and move them towards a decision and it’s healthy. You of all people know how much I keep to myself, and having an outlet to process is GOOD for me. It is helping me become the person I want to become.

Additionally, I get that you are a contrarian and an extistentialist. But you know how much I hate after I pour out my stresses and worries to you that your answer is always “It is what it is.” THIS does not help. At all. I hated it when we were together, and you knew that. I asked for more empathy and you have none to give. I adjusted. But I hate it still. It is demoralizing and is no way helpful to someone to whom you agreed you’d listen. I’d rather not have said anything at all.

This letter is not one of negativity though because today taught me something. I learned that I can’t deal with someone of your personality, or maybe the caricature you want everyone to believe. Those crazy ideas of maybe, just maybe we needed some space to grow to make this work for good, that thought is gone. I need someone who WANTS to grow. I want someone who is okay with being himself and does not have this facade all the time. Someone who doesn’t think empathy is a weakness but the best part of a person. And for the love of all that is holy, not a fricking existentialist. “It is what it is”… what IS that?? Answer that, my friend!

For whatever reason, I’ve had a hard time letting you go. Letting you move on and most importantly, releasing me from the bag of bricks around my feet in this river I feel swept away in. You have shown me that it is more important to me to find the love I need, no matter the time I’ve invested in you/us or the age I am, and I’m determined to get to shore and happen upon it. Today, I guess I needed your contrary and unsupportive viewpoints to the things that are most important to me, right now.

I wish you luck, I hope you do discover your potential and stop hiding behind baggage because it hurts to much to deal. You were, are, and always will be a good person and I hope you allow yourself to feel that. If you need me, i would not turn you away, but give me a lot of time and distance, either literally or figuratively.

It feels good and empowering to have this non discussion with you. I wish you would understand me enough to let me get through it.

Best wishes,


Today if I had to sum up my luck in life, today would be the day I would put in the dictionary for the word(s?) “Typical Greenleaf”. And if you know me, which you don’t because this bloggy-blog is totally anonymous (and I LOVE that) and NO ONE I know knows I have this thing. And it’s going to stay that way, capesh? Good.

So today I had made an appointment with my future landlord/management company to pick up my keys for the afternoon so I could get into my new pad to scope it out. With all the overwhelming anxiety, etc I didn’t really remember the upstairs of the townhouse. At all.

I got up early today and left the house by 7am. Drove the almost 5 hours* down there. I am literally a block away when the management company calls me:

“Hi greenleaf… this is XYZ management company. We know you are coming down today but greenleaf, we don’t have the keys.”

Hold the phone. Literally. But anyway. WHAT. I knew I couldn’t really pick up my keys until I got into town next weekend so that they could clean and de-grossify. No problem.

Well what the problem was, was (do you ever hate having to use the same word twice like that? I do. I always stop and delete and then realize that, in fact, I have to use it.*) they had given the keys to a vendor who was replacing all the closet doors. He hasn’t returned them and they couldn’t get a hold of him. BASTARD.

So I drove 5 hours* to do what? NOTHING. Ah, my friends this has a totally fairy tale ending. I spun my productive greenleaf wheels and went over to the management company anyway. I gave them my rent check and got info on utilities, which I had started to do but had to stop. Do you ever notice that you could do almost anything online but when it comes to utility companies their websites SUCK MAJOR ASS?? Well, I do.

I then went over to my townhouse, just to see if Bastard closet door guy was there. He wasn’t. But I did push my nose up to the windows and got to see the living room and kitchen, and planned out how to set up my furniture in the living room. But I didn’t get to see the upstairs, obviously, because it’s upstairs. Bollucks.

I still had only been in the town for 45 minutes at this point so I went to the mall. Like any red-blooded American girl would do.

I found bedding that I wanted and I bought a WASHER AND DRYER. I needed to buy one, cause I have hookups’nshit. But holy hell, I have never bought anything that felt so adult. My only sadness is that I’m renting not owning. But I’ll bring little Wendy and Draco (Oh, like you don’t name household objects?) with me where ever I go.

The best part? I totally got a sweet deal on a promotional offer Sears has until tomorrow. And had I actually gone down to hickville to do what I was supposed to do. I would have never had gotten a w/d today and I would have paid out the anus. ew.

So I felt good driving FIVE HOURS back in Indianapolis rush hour (p’shaw, they call it that?) traffic and through Chicago’s (easy peasy today, Lolla peeps I waved to you as I was listening to David Bowie in my car on the LSD. As long as I’m going to stream my conscience, god, I’m going to miss driving on that road).

I think I’m ready to do this thing.

P.S. That new show Greek is fricking AWESOME! R and I have fallen in love with it. And he, a lapsed typical Jeep driving ex-frat boy, and I, the loyal sorority leader I still am, both have found the show to be so entertaining. And honestly, I should get in an uproar about how the sorority women in the show are totally misrepresented and the fraternity men actually look like they come out on top (how’s that for a double entendre?! ha!) but really, I could care less. The show is well written, the kid who plays Rusty is fantastic and he’s from Chicago so you can hear the Chicago accent in his voice. My only issue with the show is that R thinks that he bore more than a striking resemblance to Cappy when he was in school so he laughs REALLY loud at EVERYTHING. I didn’t know him then so I can’t really argue. But still. It rules.

But the highlight? Tomorrow my boy’s back in town. HOLLER.

Nicole Ritchie’s on 20/20, gots to go. Happy weekend Chicago!

*Dear I-65, you can DIE. DIE. I hate you. I hate every boring inch by pavement boring inch of you. Of course I’ll never say this when I’m driving on you because I don’t want you to pop my tire or anything. But you suck and if there was another way that is faster to get to Hickville, Indiana (and believe me I’ve tried every way till Sunday) I would so be on that train. Hmmmm… train.

So, in case you’ve been living under a rock this last week, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows came out on Friday. Being a more reclusive yet anxious HP fan, I put mine on reserve. I decided not to go up to Evanston to pick it up at midnight, seeing as a) street parking is horrible after 7pm, b) well, my hood is kinda scary anyway and 3) I was alone.

So Saturday, after meeting a good friend for lunch on Southport (can we talk about what a crazy place that has become?! I lived there for 3 years and it was NEVER as crowded as what I observed, not even when the Cubs were in the playoffs. INSANE. Who knew I was a trendsetter?! Ha, not.) I drove up to Evanston strumming up as many patience vibes as I could muster. Partly because the traffic on Belmont chokes me, and partly b/c I didn’t know how many little wizards I’d have to battle in line.

I must have done something good (Sound of Music, get it?) because there was no line. I was in Borders for 3 minutes tops and left very grateful.

I had planned to dive right into it on Saturday afternoon so I could finish it on Sunday. I know a lot of people who received theirs and wanted to be able to participate in the discussions.

Well, my plan was working, I burrowed on my couch with my cat sleeping on my legs, and then I dozed off for about an hour.

Then about an hour after I woke up and started reading again, I hear a key in my door and R walks in. I’m going to stray for a second here. He’s currently up in Rockford as part of a senior high service trip, hating it, but he’s there doing good work. I didn’t expect him back until Monday. He had come back to do some work stuff (he works at a church) for Sunday and decided to stop over to say hi. Well, of course stopping over turned into staying over, so my HP plans were thrown out the window, but for a good cause

** Break here for some romantical stuff, skip this section if you want to hear about the rest of the weekend **

Can I just say how awesome distance is sometimes? I mean, it’s not ideal or a remedy, but for some reason with R and myself, a couple days of not seeing each other seems to breathe new life into us. He’s normally very appreciative of me and I hear him tell me he loves me pretty much every other hour for no reason at all when we see each other constantly.

But the missing me thing, R missing me, well, that I kind of like. Not in an addictive, must have a ciggie with that beer or it’s not the same kind of buzz addiction, but one I do like. So far since I’ve been back after my week long trip in end of June/beginning of July – he was gone for a week, then was home for 2.5 weeks, gone for 5 days, will be back for 4 days, and then leaves for the Appalachian Mtns for 8 days and then 6 days later I move.

I’ve sensed a definite shift with us this summer. Most importantly, when he came with me to my parents in June and the 4 of us sat at the dinner table, it really felt like HOME. More so than any other time I’d been back in my childhood house since I moved out. He felt like family. There was some sort of really deep connection there I can’t describe. I’d watch our relationship go from excitement/lust to friendship to a partnership. And now I feel that partnership. He’s my go-to-guy. And I hadn’t realized how naturally I’ve let him in, or how he’s knocked down my walls. But lately, he’s the only one I feel that doesn’t fail me.

So my point, is that I think we’re going to make it. Not that I have doubts, but moving 4 hours away, going to graduate school, R finishing grad school, and the opportunities that lay before us after, it makes me realistic. A little protective of my heart, you know, in case. That’s just my nature. But this summer, this summer when my walls would have gone up to protect me, to just give up, the bricks and mortar are shattered, unable to be pieced together. And I don’t have any on backorder, and I don’t feel the need to place one.


Hi, welcome back from the commercial break. Where was I, oh yes. It was great to see R, although he slept like a rock and a little to close/basically all on my side while I couldn’t sleep (again. WTF.).

This morning I got up, determined to finish the damn thing, the HP book remember? I know I get off track. Most of my friends had and darnit if I’m not competitive.

So I started at 2pm and was done by 9pm. Sure, I fit a couple of naps in, moved around to a new position on the couch every half an hour, skimmed the last 150 pages b/c I was so anxious. But I did it.

And it was worth it. The book was fantastic, somethings I was disappointed in not seeing but it was a great story.

Most importantly, I won’t have to deal with the Harry Potter craze. Ever again.

I did make it outside to get some sustenance (read: Milano cookies) and my god the weather was gorgeous. It made me ache for my old roofdeck on Belmont, somehow my current deck with its’ great view of the El tracks just doesn’t cut it, but we all now know how I feel about *that* particular area (see above).

I can’t sleep. This is the third night this week, I’ve gone to bed and then finally got up and out of bed to get on the computer in the hopes of dulling my eyes to sleep by staring at the monitor in the dark. I probably look like someone out of a Stephen King novel or a skeevy online ad.

I know there is something to this, something I don’t want to face. The only thing I can come up with is that I know I’m leaving so I don’t want to spend a single second of time sleeping while I’m here. I’m not forcing myself, and believe me I want to get to sleep.

The first night this happened, I heard gunshots in my neighborhood at 3 AM. That was fun, not fun. So that spooked me and I think I stayed up because I wanted to read and not think about it.

The night after that, I was probably used to going to bed late so I just couldn’t. Tonight, tonight, I have no idea. I even got up when boyfriend left for work this morning and did not sleep in.

However, I DID fall asleep tonight but boyfriend woke me up to tell me HE couldn’t sleep. Which doesn’t help either of us. So he’s flipping channels on the TV like a bat out of hell on ADD, which makes me completely start to wake. Next thing I know he hands me the remote, flops over and I hear soft snoring. WHAT the hell?

So I’m not sure if this is insomnia or just the fact that now I’m awake. But anyway.

Don’t hear much from the old job, which is AWESOME. However, the weirdo girl I had to go on my last business trip with 3 weeks ago?? Remember her, the one I encouraged to go on an earlier flight so I could have some peace. Yeah, well throughout our whole time together she was bitching at me about how she hated her job and that she didn’t think she would stay long. I really didn’t say much because a) after that gig, I was DONE. And I’ve been that person that wanted to be the one leaving and it sucks and b) the company would have been put in a really bad position if she left and I’m still loyal. The more time I spent with her the more I just found her to be an odd bird, but not one that you put in a museum and look at and think it’s interesting but she’s the one you wish she would just leave your yard ALREADY. By the end of the trip, I was convinced maybe the company would be better off and not the other way around.

Last week, I heard through the grapevine that this co-worker quit by leaving a voicemail that morning that she wasn’t coming in and quit!! Can you believe that?! A fricking voicemail. The funniest thing about this is that my only friend at my old company used to work with said co-worker and this same person had quit that job by a POST-IT note on her computer.

So at least I don’t have that going for me…


musings and panic attacks of a Chicago girl embarking on a new life in Texas. Only it's not always June and it's not in song.

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