Smelly

I smell so freaking good right now. I love getting new perfumes, just because I haven't had a chance to get sick of the way I smell with it on, but there are a few perfumes that make me feel very sexy no matter how many times I wear them, and I'm pretty sure this one will be one of those.

So now I just have to wait for the boy to get home. Not that he cares if I'm wearing perfume, but I'm ready to jump him now ;-) I would guess he's sufficiently recovered from having his wisdom teeth out, since he was groping me in his sleep Friday night.

I figure, no matter what happens when he's awake, as long as he's groping me in his sleep, we're doing all right. Of course, that may be a bit of a fallacy in thinking, but half my life is a dream, and I have no real problems thinking that way.

I haven't had the air conditioner on in about two weeks, but I think it's time to turn it on again. Damn Midwest weather. I'm freaking hot.

Faulty

It's probably better that no one reads this. I don't have any interesting stories to tell, I don't have interesting conversations, nothing really exciting happens to me. As much as I could make stuff up, what good would that do me? I get nothing out of writing fiction any more. I only get any kind of relief from writing when I write what I'm really feeling.

It's when I'm by myself that I usually want someone to talk to, but the right person usually just isn't there. I'm not really sure who the right person is, most of the time. I'm fairly certain that whoever it is doesn't really exist. The right person is the person who can fix the sad/angry/annoyed/lonely feelings, but no one can really fix those. I usually just swallow them down. I really hate letting anyone know that I'm not as good as they are, and telling someone I'm feeling lonely or angry is doing exactly that.

Being vulnerable is definitely not my strong suit.

I feel like maybe I can only be vulnerable to one or two people, and it's so random who I can finally open up to, and when I can. It's better to be slightly guarded anyway, I suppose.

But part of me wants to be open with lots of people so I can let them in and see me for who I really am, and love me in spite/because of my faults. No one will love me if I'm faulty. Or if they will, I'd just rather not find out.

My cats do, I guess. I can be fat and ugly and cry and scream, and they'll still hop in bed next to me and purr. Does that make me a crazy cat lady? I mean, even their love isn't unconditional. If I didn't feed them or clean out their litter box, they'd hate me.

Scott treats me like shit when he's sick or feeling unwell. I wonder how he'd feel if the situation were reversed, but when do I treat him like shit? Rarely. I took a day off work to take him to get his wisdom teeth out, went and got him food, and just tried to be there for him, but he can't let me do anything for him. Unless it's paying for dinner.

He makes it so difficult sometimes. I'm trying not to get too pissed because he's obviously not feeling well, but I'm PMSing and not terribly thrilled to be rejected so much.

Sexy

I don't understand why the cat would decide to lay right next to the cat bed (that I got for free from work), instead of in the bed. I saw him in it this morning right after I woke up. I swear he was in it. I'm not just full of shit.

Well, sometimes I am.

I got bit on Tuesday and my arm still hurts. I was trying to lift a really fat Sheltie today and his fat was jamming my arm, and it hurt. I'm going to pout for a second.

My mom and I are going to Chicago in just a few days. I'm taking a mini-vacation from work and we're going to a Cubs game. It's high time I had a vacation, although I kind of feel as though I've had one this past week-I had three days off, worked one day, had a day off, worked another, and had another day off. So it's been sort of sporadic working lately. Not that I have a problem with that. My cats and my apartment are pretty clean as a result, and I've read a book and a half in less than a week. 'Cause I'm all smart like that.

I can't wait until hockey season starts again. October is just around the corner, right? ;-) I know the Blue Jackets are going to suck again this year, but whatever it takes to get my fill of Sergei Fedorov. I would jump off a cliff for him, I think. He's sexy.

Kitty bath time

Dealing with stress takes such a huge toll on me. I noticed this morning that my hair is looking thinner than ever before. I have no appetite at all-I've eaten a few biscuits today and while I suppose I could eat something, I don't really feel like it.

I clearly don't deal with emotional stress all that well. I think I do okay with work stress, because I do deal with quite a bit of it. My job is stressful. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, between dealing with dogs, customers, and coworkers, my job is not for the faint of heart. I do love it, though, and I have very awesome coworkers/friends that sort of disperse the stress a bit.

I think it's time to give Jay another bath. There are clumps of white fur all over the floor. I'm sick of seeing so much of his hair all over everything, so I believe it's kitty bath time!

One more week and I get a vacation! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

It's been gone

This is the kind of day where you kind of wouldn't mind throwing in the towel. I've been suicidal before (and I certainly am not now), but what I really think would be nice is just having a break from life for a day or two. And not just a day off of work; a day off of worrying about work, of worrying about my stupid boyfriend, of worrying about getting things done so I can be less of a screw-up in general.

I don't suppose I'll get a break from any of that, really. I'm still sitting here worrying about what Scott is doing with his friend, worrying about why I think he'd ever even think about doing anything with her, worrying about going to work tomorrow, worrying about being fat, ugly, sounding stupid, having bad skin, bad hair, bad manners, ugly clothes, etc.

I know my life will never be exactly what I've imagined, but I thought I had it about as close I could get it: a good job, friends, a wonderful guy, a hockey team, my kitties... Now here I am, pissed about my stupid job, freaking out over my guy, and just really taking shitty care of the animals I took on as my own. And I'm worrying that I'm not attractive enough, feeling as though I'm competing with some other girl for my boyfriend's attention, and then worrying that he thinks I need his attention too much.

Goddamn it, I am not important enough to be worrying. In the end, I suppose it doesn't matter, does it? I can worry all I want about Scott, but the fact is, he will do what he will do, and I can't stop him by just freaking worrying about it. I can only stand by what I say and know what I will accept and what I won't.

Of course, knowing this won't stop me. I am just glad I only have a little more than a day that I'll be worrying about him. Eh, that's not true. They'll be other things. I'm just fortunate that he doesn't make me worry too much.

Ah, shit. I feel like our relationship is pretty well changed now. For better or worse, I don't know.

I do know that I haven't ever felt this way about anyone-I thought I loved Steve so much, but after a year with him, I wasn't nearly as interested. After a year with Scott, I'm more interested than ever. And it's even better; cozier and much more intimate.

I'd like to start writing again, but I never did have any good ideas. I'd hate to write my life in so many different ways (or the way I'd like my life to be) the way I did when I was younger. But I miss falling into a character/story and wishing only to be back where they are. It's such an easy escape. I think I lost my creativity with all the responsibility of having a real life bearing down on me, and that's sad. I used to daydream all the time. It was all I wanted to do. Now, though I can still imagine things to clearly, the situations are never as interesting as they used to be.

I think whatever I had has been lost. I may still write well, and I may still have some talent at it, but I feel like some potential is lost. I wish I could find that potential and run with it. Screw this grooming crap-I want to write a great American novel.

Ah fuck. I have to sleep one of these days.

My head is exploding

The cats are fighting again. Maybe one of these days, when they're both old and decrepit, they'll just give up on fighting each other. I kind of doubt it, though. They both put up a good show for me; I think they think I expect it.

I've been so anxious the last day or two. I had such a bad anxiety attack early this afternoon that I thought I was going to pass out. I think I'm okay, and then when I'm by myself, and I know that Scott and his friend are together, I freak out. It's so hard for me not to run over there and just scream that he is mine and I'm going to watch him until she leaves.

But how ridiculous would I look if I did that? I can't be watching over him all the time, and I'm sure he comes into contact with other women all the time. It never has bothered me before.

On the other hand, it's really not him that I don't trust. I don't trust his friend. It's very difficult for me to be friendly to her, even though she seems like a perfectly friendly person. All I can think of is that if she has even half a brain, she'd be going after him.

He's just the sexiest guy I've ever met in my entire life. He's funny and smart, and he has a great body. He has a good job and he takes care of himself so well. He's not perfect, but he's definitely perfect for me.

So maybe it's just my opinion, but I'd be all over him if I were her. All right, I'm pretty much always all over him myself-he's just so damn hot.

I'm also irritated that I really want sex and she's always there. We get just a few moments alone together, and not really enough alone to have sex. That's enough to annoy the shit out of me as it is.

Even talking to Scott about it last night didn't really help. I know logically that I can trust him, but there's that crazy imagination of mine that can see them doing things together. And when I can't be there, my mind tends to wander. And why does she get to sleep in his apartment when I don't get to sleep with him? It's one of the things I look so forward to, and we haven't spent the night together in over a week.

I'm so used to having him to myself that I really miss him. I have such a hard time being comfortable around strangers, but he was the one person in the world that I'd never be uncomfortable around. I'm just me around him.

I can't be me when I'm anxious and uncomfortable. I'm so anxious. It's a damn good thing I have to go to work tomorrow. I can't deal with it when I'm sitting around. I try to read, watch DVDs, listen to music, whatever. My mind is only quiet when I'm writing. And even then it just kind of comes out jumbled and incomprehensible.

I will be so relieved when she leaves. I've never been this weird jealous freak before, and I don't like feeling this way or knowing what it's doing to me and my relationship. My head is going to freaking explode.