I was driving home from work a little bit ago (second shift at the bar) and thinking about how lax I’d been in posting here and how I should come home and write up my week (nothing special, or really out of the ordinary) and how I’m feeling (tired, just really, bone tired, worn down, wore out–in general not just tonight) and about good friends and how much better making time for them makes me feel.  But then somehow in the 8 minutes it takes me to get home I was so filled with rage and wanting punch Hawthorn’s smug fucking face in that I almost started crying in the car.  I pulled it together, got home, took off my make up and brushed my teeth and managed to calm down somewhat in that time.  I’m not sure if it’s PMS or entirely my residual anger at the whole stupid situation, but man am I mad at him this week.  I keep coming back to the fact that he’s never apologized to me.  He’s apologized for his fucked up personal shit bleeding into mine, he’s apologized for my suffering (“I’m sorry your feelings are hurt” which by my reckoning doesn’t count) but he’s never said, “I am so very sorry for what I did.  I am so very sorry for hurting you.” And while I’m sure I cold talk to him about it, I just don’t think it’ll have any meaning to me at all if I have to ask for that apology.  It doesn’t help that this week he’s been dumb boy bullshit inconsiderate, and done some dumb work stuff that makes my life a little harder (and was really just an extension of dumb boy inconsideration).

Tomorrow morning I’m going to get my haircut.  I decided it was better way to spend my money than going to the flea market even if I still do need furniture.  Then I’m going to spend the day doing chores at home and puttering and putting things away until I have to go do another shift at the bar, which will hopefully be busy, distracting and full of cute boys who want to flirt with me.  And maybe when I wake up Sunday, I’ll feel rested and content and happy at home, not full of anger that borders on violence.

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