So the boy and I are off. It's OK, we really are different. And we were never more than dating, so it's not heartbreak city.
But his method was effed. It can only be topped by Masshole's '05 ender. Harry Caray said, "I knew a few days ago I just wanted to be friends, but I waited until today because I knew I'd see you at this party." In the meantime, of course, I was wracking my brain about why he wasn't calling.
Lately I've been reading a lot. And I'm trying to limit my selections so that I'm actually reading and not just accumulating library fines. On the shelf now:
The Manual
Three Black Skirts
I saw this next one in the bookstore today. The chapter titles sold me:
Do I want to date right now? I don't know ... Maybe
Insecurity kills more relationships than infidelity
You are what you hate
The right to change your mind should be revoked
Why You're Still Single
Of course, that's not the book I went in for. Neither is the astrology guide (plus CD-ROM!) but that's OK. How often can you find books on cognitive-behavioral therapy in Books A Million? I may just have to get those two from Amazon. Which means saving money.
Ah, money, how I hate thee.
I wish I could get my head on straight. I'm so much better off than I've been in the past, but it doesn't dampen the craziness I feel right now. It's to the point that any regular daily habit is being pushed to every other day. All I do at home is sleep and read a little bit. My poor cat really is being neglected. OK, not really, but she acts especially desperate.
Case in point (for general malaise, not cat): It took me a week to finally do my laundry. The night I did it, I put away the pants. A few days later, I put away the undies and sheets. The shirts are still sitting on my bed, stacked and getting covered in cat hair.
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3 comments:
Sorry about the boy.
That is effed that he didn't tell you when he knew. But at least he told you in person and didn't take the coward's way out with an e-mail or a phone call.
And your laundry method sounds a lot like mine. Reading is a much better endeavor than putting away shirts.
Don't worry so much about that stuff.
I go through those spells of listlessness and sleeping too much. They end and things get back to as normal as they ever are here.
Take care of yourself. Oh, and the cat.
Men are assholes. Boys too, for that matteer.
Or even matter.
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