Woke at 8 am to run around making cupcakes... that few at dinner cared to eat.

Left for Columbus, for an introduction to a second job that I don't need, but could certainly use.

Slammed on my brakes in the left lane of the highway as traffic stopped for an accident. The car following too close behind me had to swerve into the shoulder to avoid hitting me. It made me nervous.

My boxes arrived from Toronto today. They make me nervous too. They wreak of Jason, our expired love. I think of him packing it all up, watching someone else take it away, and it makes me ill with regret that I handled things so poorly, so cowardly.

My belongings creak like the mice that creeped around our summer home and now I'm too afraid to unpack them alone in the middle of the night. I have to wait for another almost two hours for Brian to get home from his gig.

I hate living so terrified.

I don't like knowing that the only things (besides work) separating me from waking and sleeping were a bit of a workout, wasting time between appointments in kentucky, scarfing leftovers, and an episode of grey's anatomy.

that's better than yesterday where it was 5 minutes of the Obama interview on the tonight show (the president of the united states on the tonight show? yeah... pretty nuts. leno thought so too) and a bunch of snuggles.

tomorrow I find myself wondering how I'm going to go to the store, buy the ingredients for cupcakes (including guinness... how early do they sell that in ohio anyway?), make cupcakes, get on the road to columbus by 10:30, and get back just in time for supper.

i'm overwhelmed and underwhelmed simultaneously.

I have a pathetically exaggerated anxiety about authority. I woke from an evening nap to hear my roommate and my landlord talking about whether or not they thought I was home. I heard my landlord say, "I really want this to get done tonight." I panicked. This is my week to clean the kitchen. He was probably furious that I had even left it to today, let alone hadn't made a move to start. I crept down the stairs to find my roommate leaving to go salsa dancing. Apparently, my landlord was just explaining why he didn't want to come along... he had something he wanted to get done tonight.

I felt embarrassed.

I immediately cleaned the kitchen.

I wanted to go salsa dancing, but the thought of moving my car exhausts me.

Also, Brian asked me not to salsa dance with anyone else. He doesn't want some other guy's hands on me.

Salsa dancing was our first date together, two days after we met, and it ended with a soft kiss in the middle of a close and slow dance.

I just don't like the idea of being the type of person who turns down plans to: get some work done for tomorrow (I do hate the mornings..), clean the kitchen, and randomly pass out at 8 pm.

Wish I could sleep alone with indifference.

Must practice.

So, my new job is with Our365 portraits. They're the company that takes photos of babies in the hospital and they have an extension service where they take photos of 1 month-3 yr old kids at their home. After the photos are taken, I get them, make an appointment, do some editing and collaging, and go out to the house to show/sell them to the parents. It combines my three great loves: photos, babies, and people. It's commission-based pay, but I'm not stressed about it because baby pictures are something people frequently buy (especially if they've already had a photographer out to their home). It's pretty good money too, on top of being casual and fun (and not governed by a terrifying boss lady).

It's been good so far.

I'm packing for mardi gras today. We're leaving early tomorrow from Brian's house and leaving poor Twink in the airport parking lot. He's playing a gig at a grocery store for black history month this morning, which amuses me because no one in his band is black except for the rappers, which is pretty stereotypical.

Last night when I got home from work (at 9 pm, bleh), there were a bunch of people gathered in the kitchen and we all went out to our neighborhood bar around the corner to play shuffleboard and pool (and drink too much beer). I really really like these people that surround me.

Good people, good boy, good job, good family, good life.

New job starts tomorrow. I'll describe it when there's something to describe (though I'm cautiously optimistic)

The thought of having visitors (Karen, then Crystal) elates me.

Stoked about the new orleans trip, both seeing Raph and the Mardi Gras crazyness. People keep reminding me about the rampant nudity. This may well be the wildest party I'll ever attend. Good thing the boy's buying the drinks.

I have no valentine's day related inspiration

makes me feel like a bad girlfriend :(

boo present giving

especially when i'm busy with his bday gift. stupid boy and his february bday

Making decisions makes me sick.

How am I supposed to know what's best when "ideal" shifts daily and I'm so effectively influenced by what other people think?

Why does deciding whether or not to go to Cincinnati for half a week have to be so monumental?

This sinking feeling in my stomach needs to go away. I need to stop being so unemployed... WAY too much thinking time.

I figured it out. I would really like to be someone's girlfriend today.

I want someone to be obligated to call.
I want someone to sleep beside.

I feel an uncomfortable aching in my stomach. Do I ache for Jason? yes. Do I ache for other boys? probably yes as well.

This is why people ought to stay single (single = alone, rather than around) for a while post-breakup.

Not allowing myself to be alone when I needed it has left me even more alone.

And I don't know how to make it go away. But, for some reason, I don't feel as though I need to.