06/27/00 (cont'd)
Awfully fucking chatty today, aren't I? I can't help it. The alternative is working, and I don't care at all to do that. Fuck 'em! I'm only here for 3 more days...what are they going to do...fire me?
I still don't have my computer back. And I'm getting antsy. I'm only here for 3 more days...remember? (Deja vu, deja vu...)
Snatch has this lovely quote on her page...something about love not being looking out at each other but at looking out together in the same direction.
That hurts.
She called me today en route to the gym. Just bitching up a storm about all the little unwanted foster children and how she's trying to find a place for this one kid who's borderline retarded and no one wants him and no one will take him and her best bet for him is looking like a group home 4 1/2 hours out of town. So she was bitching about spending ALL DAY FRIDAY (the day before we leave, mind you) driving this kid to the home and driving back. "And then spending 17 hours the next day driving." (Yeah, well, experience tells me I'm not letting you NEAR the wheel, sister, so keep your shirt on, okay?) And she threatened to quit this morning in the case managers' meeting because "they're expecting us to double our caseloads--when are we supposed to do all this shit?" (Uh, maybe you could use all that time you spend FUCKING OFF and LEAVING EARLY and taking SMOKE BREAKS when you don't smoke--duh!) And just whining and whining and whining. I would feel really sorry for her if she hadn't gone out and got a Social Work degree and wasn't currently working on a Masters degree in the same pathetic fucking field. Examine the term "social worker," okay? What comes to mind? Some underpaid, overworked, bitter, nervous-breakdown waiting to happen. Yet, she got the degree, and she took this job. If I had spent four years at a JuCo learning to be a suck-retary (in which case I would hope someone would kill me just for being an idiot) I wouldn't expect anyone to listen to me bitch about this job, because ain't NO suck-retaries out there singing the praises of their employment status. Right?
But the whole time she was talking, I could only cross my eyes and think "fuck you" over and over to myself. I don't love her anymore. And she doesn't love me, either. The only reason she's actually being pissy about this breakup is because it ended up being ME who ultimately left HER. Probably the same fucking reason I was so bent out of shape when she first brought it up. God, we're pathetic people. More concerned over who's screwing who than in what we've lost. Or what we only thought we had.
I more and more don't want to go on this trip with her. I just have a feeling it's going to be icky. She's going to be a total bitch, we're going to fight the whole fucking way down there, we'll fight the whole fucking time we're there, we'll fight the whole fucking way back, and I'll let her drive and hurl myself from the moving car just to get away from her.
I think I'd rather spend the 4th of July watching my dad try to kill us all with his arsenal of fireworks and his propane torch. (Which he does every year. Roman candles are dangerous? Since when?)
The whole thing just makes me sick because I know she's going to look at this like I stayed "friendly" and "strung her along" all this time just to get a (nearly) free vacation. Which is so not true. I could go on vacation with my parents (well, if they would invite me) for free, and you don't see me chomping at the bit on that one. Then it will be that my reasons were because I'm broke and she had disposable income. Please. Even I'm not that shallow. Then it will be just because I didn't want to lose the house. HA! As if, darling, my name is on the title.
Why do I have a feeling this is going to get ugly? I just wonder how ugly, and when. I like to be prepared.
Okay, I am officially signing off for the day. Thank you to all the devoted who read every word of this incredibly long and worthless day. And Miss X, if you're reading, yes, I am having a bad day. I work for lawyers, one of whom is particularly pissed because I have the audacity to have a life of my own and am, therefore, quitting and leaving him sans suck-retary; my WIFE is a total bitch and I don't have the balls to actually leave her; my cats have fleas and I can't seem to get rid of them; my dogs are neurotic; and in spite of 7 months of therapy, I still apparently have all the self esteem of a rock (which I have decided definitely needs working on). All the same, that is no excuse for taking out my frustrations on you. I am now off to do as little work as I can get away with without having someone challenge me to a pissing contest (at this point, I may actually win)...
But wait, there's more...