I want my blues
To Be Myself Completely
03-10-06 | 18:36
I can’t go to the gym. I actually physically cannot go to the gym. I am breaking out in a rash, I feel my throat getting sore, and I am puffy and stressed out all the time. IT IS PB.
This morning was a glorious morning. I felt gross and puffy due to my cheesy night, but it was warm and lovely and I was going to wear my beige trench coat from Searle! It just came back from the dry cleaners, fresh and crisp from last Spring. Alas, there was a problem. Two minutes to nine and the car was already waiting outside – the belt! The belt that goes with my coat was missing! In the midst of screaming and searching frantically for something I knew I was never going to find I realize that PB must have mistakenly threw it out when he put away the dry cleaning. My coat is ruined. It cannot be worn without the belt, only one measly spring and now the belt was thrown out! I was sobbing, utterly sobbing this morning. Why PB, why???? My heart was broken, and it wasn’t just the bloody belt, it was everything that I have been stressed out about for the past year. I cannot be myself with him here, in this space. I miss Ecstasia.
This evening after coming home from work, I throw my clothes off and head to the bathroom to freshen up. I am alone, and PB is out –Utter bliss. All the lights are off and my western facing windows are wide open and letting in the loveliest dusk light and softest breeze. I turn on NPR and freshen up with the door open (as I like to do when I am alone) - - - THEN *woosh* The door opens, PB is home and I am slamming the bathroom door for privacy and my bubble was burst and now I am sitting on the sofa feeling like fat shit with no energy to go to the gym and I hate myself for giving up, yet hate PB for being here. I am near tears as I write this and I will stop because if I start to cry he will ask why.
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03-09-06 | 22:36
I ate too many Cheesy puffs tonight. I feel sick and bloated. Come to think of it I always feel ill and bloated. I am going off dairy to see if it makes a difference of how I feel.
, it is funny you dreamt of my nails and me last week because Esther, my manicurist couldn’t come over! So my nails are all long and sharp and unkempt. I’ve cut myself twice this past week with my own bloody nails.
I am here, and nothing much has changed. Work is work, and I can’t even say that I’ve been working out and being the healthy little Miss. That I long to be. And crap – I’m going to Florida in a week. PB’s good friend is getting married – under a tree – in Florida. What do you wear to a hippy wedding taking place under a tree? Why a cream and light green Burberry print dress of course! Depending if I can squeeze myself into it by next week. Goodbye cheesy puffs, hello thighs that do not touch. Gee, I wish. Man, I’m all like gee, I wish when I could actually do something about it and not eat the drying crap that I shovel into my mouth. Willpower….
I am still awaiting living alone, still awaiting my puppy love.
Still awaiting something relatively interesting and introspective to write about so this diary won’t fall into the boring drivel that I feel you are reading right now.
The thing is, I don’t really want to be introspective because I am not pleased with myself and how I am treating myself. Clearly there is something wrong when I eat candy all afternoon and come home to not only skip Pilates but also to sit down, watch the television and eat salty treats. I am not myself completely. I truly thrive when I set myself to a regimen and follow it. I feel good about myself and that opens up my thinking and allows my insecurities to disappear or at least take a backseat so I can focus on the important matters that are affecting my mood. Gah, I am not making any sense, and I am literally dizzy. Sitting here, in my nightgown, on my sofa – dizzy! I must be tired. Or maybe it is my drivel that is taking me for a spin.
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The Smell of Wet Paint
03-05-06 | 10:41
I had a pretty good entry written down yesterday, but I had to press 'apple +r' instead of 'apple + t' and I lost the whole thing.
I was going to write about how I feel pretty good, but the truth is - I do not. I just caught the tail end of a bad, bad, A$ton Kuch#r movie- A L0t Like L0ve - Gahhh. That will make almost any girl hungry for a passionate love that will, ahh, nevermind. God Why the fuck did I allow myself to watch it? Even the last thirty minutes? Fuck. I can't wait to live alone. As long as I have my Chin puppy with me. Man, is it that movie or do I feel lonely? Maybe it is the movie because I have my period so I am pretty vulnerable anyway.
Today I’m going to personal training, then to get a juice and then I am meeting PB at the glasses store because he needs new glasses – his old one snapped in half – and then I kind of want to shop a bit at Henry Bendel’s, so we’re going up there. And that is my day.
Work tomorrow. It is not that PB and I don’t have passion between us, but and I hate to have to drag up Him but I’m going to anyway. Jesus with Him I was on the Moon. He did it right. The sex, the romance, the lust, the attention. Too bad he is fucking crazy and volatile and dangerous. The passionate ones always are, aren’t they?
Man, I so don’t want to go workout. I am such a Lazy Lucy.
PB is in bed sleeping. It is a perfectly beautiful Sunny day, I can feel Spring coming and with that I can feel change. What will it be like to live alone again? Of course I will still be with PB, but what if I wasn’t? I know I’d be lonely at times.
Like right now I am imagining PB not being asleep in the next room and if I was alone – completely without PB in my life – I would be lonely. I know this lonely feeling. It is at once comforting, hopeful, exciting and so sad.
It is eleven o’clock. I’ve got to go to the gym.
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