I’m angry because you criticised my driving. This angers me because you always criticise my driving, which causes me to take the passenger seat. Seems a fair trade off. But no, you had to push me and force me to drive. I’m angry because you say I drive too fast, brake too hard, “drive like a woman”, and stop too far back at lights. Guess what? You’re not shit hot either, but I keep my mouth shut most of the time because it’s easier that way.
I’m angry because I’m always the one being criticised. Yes, things are MUCH better now than they used to be, but you still pick on me. Again, with tonight, I get quiet because you’ve just criticised me and spoken to me like I’m a child, and you get angry because I’m quiet. So you bug me to tell you what’s bothering me, and I tell you it’s that I never feel good enough, and you tell me I’m stupid. So let’s play that scene out in our heads and see how it goes again. I’ll give you a minute to put yourself in my shoes.
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Done? Do you understand? Probably not. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: you can’t argue what I’m feeling. And the reason I never want to tell you why I’m upset is because you always tell me I’m being stupid. Why should I talk if what I’m saying goes in one ear and out the other? Just last night on the phone you talked over me THREE times when I was trying to tell you something.
Another reason why I’m so angry: you avoid the topic of the wedding at all costs. Tonight I was completely and utterly floored when you actually said something about it to your mother infront of me. Every time someone else – and even ME – brings it up, you run in the other direction and refuse to make eye contact with me while making a joke about it. But I can’t say anything because I’m terrified of scaring you away.
And I realise that to an outsider things will sound awful here. There are many wonderful things about this person, but right now all I can is faults, because all of my faults seem to have been dragged out lately, and I’m fucking angry about it tonight, and just want to stay angry for awhile.
fuck.
Oct 15, 07:00PM PDT | 0 comments
Because of pain I’m having in my right hand (mainly). No conclusive diagnosis. I was told to take anti inflammatories, ice it, wear a brace, and take time off work. Rrrrrrrrrrrrright. Taking time off work doesn’t really work when you’re self-employed. I mean, I can take as much time as I’d like, but I’d quickly run into problems paying bills and saving money and such.
So I just spent the last three hours or so looking at online ads for jobs in the area. Guess what? I’m pretty much only qualified to do menial labour, retail, and the occaisonal receptionist position. So much for my lofty ideas of making oodles of money at something other than the job I already have.
To cap it all off, while I have no clients booked tomorrow, my coworker called me and left me a message saying that I “had” to open for her because she had to stay home with her sick daughter. I want to call her back and tell her too effing bad, get your wife to take the afternoon off so you can work the morning, or “it’s not my problem your slobbery child licks every sick kid at daycare, do deal”, or better yet, just call our boss and tell her to suck my ass.
Of course, I will do none of the above, because I am a pushover loser who bends over and takes it up the arse at every possible chance. And now I’m a pushover loser who takes it up the arse with a busted hand that is only going to get worse as time goes on, but I’m so specifically qualified, I can’t get any other job that pays as well (HAR HAR HAR) as this one, so I’ll stay here and aggravate this condition and eventually end up with claw hands, rocking in my chair in the corner talking to myself.
- Yes, I do realise how pathetic this entry is. But I’m feeling pathetic and whiny and “poor-me” right now and I really can’t see any good that’s going to come out of this situation. I DESPISE my so-called boss, and can barely tolerate my whiny coworkers who get away with murder. So please, allow me this rant, and think good “resolution” thoughts for me, if you could.
Sep 22, 09:11PM PDT | 1 cheer | 0 comments
Julia Cameron has written a new book, entitled “The Writing Diet: Write yourself Right-Size”. The excerpt I read suggested that when we get the urge to snack, we should instead ask ourselves (pen and paper in hand, of course) “What is eating me that is causing me to want to eat?”
That single question makes me want to read this book. Even if I don’t do any of the exercises, I have a feeling it will help me to re-think food and my relationship to it.
I know I eat to soothe. I have a feeling I also eat to make myself un-attractive. Because if I’m unattractive then I don’t have to worry about attention from anyone, and if I’m not being paid any attention, then I’m safe. Safe from what, I don’t know. I have a scary thought that keeps popping up from the recesses of my brain, but I don’t think I’m ready to explore it just yet. Writing about it here it my way of testing the idea/theory out, kind of circling it, the way the hunter tracks his kill. Because if I’m correct, then I need to kill this beast before it gets the better of me.
Sep 08, 09:25PM PDT | 2 cheers | 0 comments
I'm doing 38 things
