So, yeah, I got home from work today around 6:30, and what do I do? I take a nap. I figured a little 30 minute nap wouldn’t be too bad. And then it lasted four hours. I woke up at 10:30. And now it’s almost 3:30 and I’m still not tired. I have to be at work in exactly four hours. Damn stupid sleep. I hate you. But I love you too. You are an addiction, I swear.
So, yeah, time to finish catching up, because I’m not going to sleep anytime soon.
So, besides my whole freaking out about money thing, there’s something else that’s been bugging me: Steve. Yes, he’s still bugging me. A lot. At least I’m being civil to him now, but I’m still pissed. You see, a few days ago, at Elizabeth’s concert, we started a little shoving match to compete for shotgun in Jason’s car. And Steve ripped my shirt in the process. It was my Macbeth t-shirt. The one I got at Shakespeare on the Green. The one that fits me perfectly and is really comfortable. The t-shirt that was commented on by a lady at the concert, 5 minutes before. The t-shirt that I wear all the time and is a momento of the first time I actually watched a play at Shakespeare on the Green. That was a really great summer. A lot happened, and that shirt is something that I associate with that year. And now it has a huge frigging hole in the side.
So the shirt meant a lot to me, big deal, right? It’s just a shirt. I have others. I could’ve dealt with the shirt, but the fact was, Steve was an ass about the whole thing. He never apologized, he blamed it on me! Then he said that since he picks me up all the time that it makes up for the shirt and we’re even . . . And that really, really set me off.
First of all, I never ask Steve to come pick me up when we go do stuff. He offers. And even if he does have to pick me up, that’s not my fault. If he wants to hang out with me so bad, he’s going to have to get me if I can’t get a ride somewhere else. If coming to get me is such a fucking inconvenience, then I’d be just as happy not hanging out with him. And the fact that he expects compensation for picking me up when HE DOESN’T PAY FOR HIS OWN GAS, is absolutely ridiculous. He may be starting now, but his parents paid for it until very recently. So if he’s going to be a petty asshole about the whole thing, so am I. Steve, you owe me a shirt. A nice shirt that I like just as much as the old one did. And you owe me a big fucking apology. And if I don’t get both of those things, you can go fuck yourself and I’m done talking to you.
It’s kind of odd that it’s been two days and I’m still really pissed off about it. It shouldn’t affect me so much. I’m usually not affected by this sort of thing to the point where I want to beat someone senseless. But I’ve noticed that things have been pissing me off a lot more lately. Is it my depression, or is it my medication? I don’t know. My relationship with Steve has had a lot of highs and lows lately. I’m either really happy with him or really pissed at him. It’s odd. He definitely would never be able to date. We’d drive each other insane.
Speaking of dating friends, Jason really really really needs to stop encouraging me. Seriously. I know he’s joking around, but it still . . . turns me on . . . and its not good for me to be turned on by Jason. Yes, he bares an uncanny resemblance to John, but, no, it’s Jason . . . I don’t think I’d do anything with Jason if I could . . . It’d just make things . . . weird . . . The whole situation is really awkward. I mean, I used to hate his facial hair, now it merely makes him look older, and resemble John even more. And why the hell does a John look-a-like excite me so much. I’ve never had any real relationship with John. I usually only see him once every 5 months. What an odd situation. Jason, quit encouraging me. I can’t stop myself from flirting with you, but you have to NOT respond . . . at all. At least not if you want a gay boy drooling at your feet, and I think we both know you don’t want that.
Which brings up another subject: why am I attracted to all these people now? Seriously, it’s like my hormones have exploded and I want to jump anything with testosterone. I drool over coworkers and customers at BK. I’m talking to all these different guys online, I’m hitting on Jason . . . Why? I mean, I have Nick, don’t I? If I feel this strange attraction to him, then why am I still feeling attracted to other men? When I was still in love with Scott, I’d feel incredibly guilty just by looking at another guy, let alone wanting to jump his bones. And now that I don’t have those strong feelings for him anymore . . . They seem to be spread out over anyone I come into contact with. And as for Nick . . . I haven’t seen him online at all this week. It’s really odd. Of course I can only be online late at night, so maybe that’s it . . . but . . . I don’t know. I mean, he’s not mine. I’m not his. We don’t have to be faithful to each other, but . . . I feel like I kind of should anyway. Well, I feel like I should, but I still want to sleep with everything that moves. I am such a hippocrite. If I went to visit him and found out he’d been sleeping with other guys, I’d be very very hurt. I hate it when my feelings and my logic tell me two completely different things. It is soooo annoying. I don’t know which one to listen to. And then there’s the times when logic tells you one thing, and your feelings tell you another thing, and then your hormones butt in and scream for you to do something else altogether, and I can’t sort any of them out.
Eric 5/31/2003 03:52:00 AM
