I know I should be committing some serious time to writing about my trip, but I just can't. Because:
1. The computer at home? Still not fixed. Apparently, today, my other half will be calling the snail of a technician that's supposedly fixing it. I can't even remember the last time I was on the computer at home. It's been that long. I don't even go into the room that used to house the computer, because seeing the computer desk empty just makes me want to cry a little bit.
2. I'm bitchy, so I'm not at all in the mood to recount the excellent time we had. For a number of reasons...
a) I have spent, in the last seven days, over five hundred dollars on my decade-old car. Between my starter and my rear shocks, I have had just about enough of getting that shit fixed. When I went to pick her up yesterday from the repair shop, the guy giving me back my key asked me how I was doing today. "I'd be better if I wasn't a regular here," I replied, as I ripped a check for $254.27 from my checkbook. I will say that it's nice to have a car that starts all the time now, rather than having it be a crap-shoot every time I turn the key. And it's nice to no longer be at the mercy of an all but uncontrollable rear end. But, still, $500? That's two car payments.
b) The weather has been nice here lately, so we at work have taken to keeping the front door open during the day. Because of this open door, we've welcomed into our world a fly the size of a small pterodactyl, which, for some reason, loves to fly about my head during the day. I hate that thing. It's loud and fat and slow, yet still I am unable to kill it.
c) I just am, okay.
3. Yesterday, my boss was in a horrible mood for the few minutes he was here (he came in and then immediately left for an appointment). When my coworker asked what happened to him, I said I didn't know, but confessed that I was cleaning out our coffee pot while talking on the phone when he got in. "It was probably you, then," she said, matter-of-factly. "He's been complaining that you have too many personal calls and you're on the internet all the time." I concede on the internet thing, but the calls? I do not talk all that much. And I always use MY cell phone, not the business phone. And I try to keep the conversations to only when I'm on my cigarette break. But, at any rate, it would've been nice of him to say something to me, rather than just letting me go ahead and continue doing what I've been doing, then just resenting me for it.
4. I'm not sure if Billy and I are fighting or what, but I feel like something's off right now with us. The thing about Billy that I've learned during the one or two fights we've had in the past is that he has a hard time letting things go. So, where I can just get over a fight in the matter of a few hours, he must cogitate and stew over it for days. Rarely does just going to sleep bring him back to normal. I don't get it, but that's him. (And, no, the fight we may or may not be having is not about the stupid shit I wrote about on Wednesday.) At any rate, I cried as I left the house this morning because something is definitely wrong, he won't talk to me about it, I can't fix it, and I hate it. My friend suggested it's just the growing pains of moving in together. Which, even though I've really already been living there for eight moths, is quite possible. Because, for some reason, actually moving in with him has made me more insecure, rather than giving me the positive vibe I was expecting. I keep thinking that maybe he regrets it, maybe he thinks he made a mistake, if he dumps me now, I have to go back to my parents...Consequently, I am now ultra-hyper-extra-special sensitive to his actions. This is really only the equivalent of shooting myself in the foot, seeing as tension begets tension, so I know it's entirely possible that I'm the only one freaking out here. It could all just be in my head. Maybe he really isn't mad or upset about anything, like he says when I ask him if we're still fighting. But I don't know. And it's driving me NUTS.
5. The cold/sinus infection/bird flu/whooping cough that I've had for the last two weeks is refusing to go away. On the bright side, my face no longer feels like it's going to explode, and my nose isn't constantly running anymore...But on the dreary side, this fucking cough will not go away. So I spend a lot of time, normally when it's least appropriate, suffering through a wet hacking cough. And then I light another cigarette and wonder why my cough won't go away. Don't judge me.
6. I'm tired. Like, crazy tired. And I'm not sure why, although I can sort of trace it to two things: One, staying up waaaaay too late on Wednesday night to watch our recorded season finales of both American Idol and Lost. Two, having to get up early to take out my parents' dog, as they are out of town. Oh yeah, and moving. And coughing. And fixing my car. And fighting (maybe?) with Billy.
7. That dog. I love my parents' dog. He's the cutest fucking golden retriever in the whole world. Seriously. In. The. Whole. World. But my dad doesn't bother with a leash when they go for walks, so when I take Sam (that's the dog) out with his leash on, he's not exactly sure of how to behave. He has no leash manners. He pulls and tries to run, yanks me around...Yesterday, he saw a deer down the street as we were on our five o'clock walk 'round the neighborhood, and he leaped at it with such force that he nearly ripped my arm from its socket. But I held onto that leash and attempted to pull him back to me. I say "attempted," because he really didn't want to come back. While I was on one end of the leash, bracing my self by practically squatting with my legs in a wide stance, leaning all my body weight in the direction opposite of him, he was at the front of the leash, choker collar (not the one with the spikes, mind you) around his neck, hacking from being choked, yet still crouching down and crawling with all of his strength toward the deer and away from me. Trust me, the last thing in the world I want to do is cut off his oxygen supply, so I ran in his direction to alleviate some of the stress, and all he did was try to take off running again. During all of this, I was screaming his name, trying to get him to come to me, bribing him with treats, calling him an asshole, trying EVERYTHING to get him to forget about the deer and come to me. Nothing worked. Until, finally, the deer was out of sight. At which point, he abruptly turned and RAN full speed back toward me. But I was still leaning back and bracing myself for him to run in the other direction again. So I almost bit it onto the concrete. And, best part, my neighbors were sitting on their deck. Watching. Which was totally not embarrassing at all.
8. My big Friday night plans? The Real Rainman on the Science Channel. Jealous? What? No? Why? Well, maybe I'll do a little laundry first. What do you think about that?
9. And, no, it's not that time of the month.
So, that's it. That's why I'm not posting about Belize. Yet. I must wait until I'm in the right frame of mind. And that's all there is to it.