It’s been a busy last few days.
I wrote an entry Thursday night, and then the internet stopped working and I reset it twice, but still couldn’t get it to work…so I quit and wound up calling Jester and weeping at him because, off and on, something is wrong with me and I’m very disturbed that I can’t pin down what it is…
Friday I had the morning shift at work and was incredibly busy…the hours pretty much flew past, which was fine with me, since I had plans.
Went to a concert with Jester and some of his friends. Had a pretty fair time, except that I was squished a lot during the last set and my shins are all bruised up…still, even that wasn’t so bad. I only got hit in the head four times, and one of them was Jester. (Oh, and in the future, I should also be prevented from wearing my wool winter coat in a mosh pit…since that’s the kind of thing that I wind up doing when I’m not really thinking carefully…)
I know next to nothing about any of the bands we saw, but Kopek was interesting…I liked some of their songs okay. And I guess I feel a little apologetic over my stereotyping…but they were Irish, and the vocalist was really, really short and I found myself thinking off and on, “wow…a leprechaun with dreads…” 😛
When we left after that, the car broke down.
It wasn’t Jester’s car (which has had enough of its’ own problems lately), but his friends’ car…and even when Jester’s dad drove out to try and help us, the car didn’t respond when they tried to jump it. Jester tells me they got the car running earlier this afternoon, so hopefully his friends made it back home okay. As much as it sucks that the car broke down, I feel like maybe it was better that it happened here instead of halfway between here and where they live, as it’s a ways away from here…
Anyway, we all didn’t make it to Jester’s apartment until pretty late, and I felt bad because he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before as it is (curse me and my late-night weeping…), so I didn’t make him drive me home and just stayed there instead…and mum is blazingly angry with me about this.
…sometimes I just can’t win.
Wasn’t home very long today, since my sister and I were gonna go see the Suckerpunch movie before my shift, but the one we were gonna go to was shut down (??? …I didn’t ask further about that), so we ended up seeing I Am Number Four. I didn’t much like it, but my sister did.
Aaand then I went to work and, man…we were getting clobbered. Still, I think we all worked together pretty well, so it wasn’t too bad. Except for this one girl that kept telling me off for things. She was making me pretty mad, considering most of the things she was telling me off for were in relation to my either not being able to hear what was being said to me, or my attempts to make friendly with the guests, the first of which isn’t my fault, and the second is, um…part of our job?
If I have 15 seconds to get a courtesy cup for a guest, then why the hell would I send him over to the register, where they have a line of 10-15 people/families, and are taking more time with every transaction because of our new rewards program? I wouldn’t. I’d get it myself and be friendly about it because it’s my job and it makes our coworkers’ jobs the tiniest bit easier. I was glad when things slowed down enough for that girl to decide she was gonna go in the back and put some things together to help the closers instead of bossing me. Grr.
Anyway…time for bed.
And here is the entry I wrote Thursday night and couldn’t post.
I did a lot today and last night. Chores, pet time, finished a book and wrote a review, read another whole book…
And I feel awful. I feel so bad and I don’t know why. I mean, I think that part of it has to do with my reading choices, but I don’t think that’s all of it. I just don’t know what “it” is. I never do.
Whatever it is, it took me back about three and a half years, to where I would get up every day and feel utterly miserable and the only thing I hoped for was that nobody would catch on to how bad it really was, because if they did, I wouldn’t know how to explain myself.
I didn’t know why I felt so bad. I still don’t. I look back and wonder how I let myself get like that, and when I admit to myself just how bad I know it was…I wonder why I didn’t do anything about it. I didn’t talk to anyone about it, except the one time that I told her I thought I was depressed and needed help, and she told me that if I needed to talk, I could tell her anything. No. I could not.
Of course…this is also why I’m planning a trip to Memphis, and why I’m waiting for a blue dress to arrive in the mail. I couldn’t tell her, but I could tell K. And even now, K is the only one I’ve ever really told about how depressed I was and why I thought it happened…and when I think about it, I don’t understand what it is I’ve done to earn K’s friendship. I can think of lots of things she’s done for me—whether she realizes it or not—but I don’t know what it is that I’ve done to be as important to her as I can only assume I am…
Friendship is a bizarre thing.
Not that I’m complaining.
But about the depression…there is something that never happened to me, but happened to one of those characters that lives in my mind. It scares me though, because more and more I find that when I come across a character that this has happened to, I feel all those depressed feelings again. I feel sick and shaky and like I will cry, but I can’t…and I don’t know why I feel this way. Why should this affect me so strongly?
It shouldn’t. I can’t account for why it does. I mean…I can’t imagine that this would be my reaction to something like that. No; I’d get angry, not scared sick…wouldn’t I? I mean, among other things, that was what brought my Wolf out of the shadows and sent him snapping at throats…right?
I don’t know what’s going on in my own head sometimes, and it scares me. It scares me to remember that Wolf and I aren’t the only ones…that there’s someone else in here who comes and goes and is alive and dead and who is simultaneously all my best qualities, and all my worst feelings.
I don’t want to feel like that ever, ever again.