I don't want to talk about it.

But I can't think about anything else right now.

I feel like crying, maybe I'll just go back to bed.

Stupid hemophiliac ego.

Nah, it's more like, damn runaway mind.

Had to use icing sugar for my coffee, no more of the regular kind. No cream, no milk, no whitener. That's ok though, I can drink coffee without whitening agents. The sugar's a little weird though. It seems like the icing sugar is less sweet by volume than standard granulated sugar. As well as I can discern anyway.

***

Time has passed.
I'm feeling a little better, not so shaky. A little edgy from coffee maybe, but better. I read some online, it's somewhat hard to find good advice online with regard to relationships. A lot of sites seem to cater to wannabe pickup artists rather than serious individuals in loving relationships. Perhaps that is my search criteria though.

I did find some useful information, but I suppose perspective is what I really gained. I worry too much about little things, like I'm programmed to worry, and if there is nothing real for me to worry about, I see connections that aren't there and find reasons to worry. I'm so neurotic.

I'm going to make some pork chops and mashed potatoes to bring to Michelle at work. I feel somewhat foolish for freaking out so much earlier. She sort of lied to me though. That bothered me, but I can see now why she did, and I feel bad for making a big deal out of it.

Part of me still wonders about things, but I don't want to pursue my curiosity too far. If something is wrong or not going to work, time will tell. Might as well enjoy the harmony while it lasts. Hopefully, it will continue to last. I don't want to sound negative about our relationship, it's good, great even. There's no indication that we're in trouble or anything. I just worry that she'll find someone better someday or something, or I'll slip into alcoholism again or drug abuse, and she won't want me anymore.

Done the potatoes, starting on the chops now. I hope she enjoys them. I hope I bread them well. We drove home yesterday with an old friend. Mutual friend even. I guess Michelle knew the fellow from high school days. She was there when he smoked pot for the first time. She certainly did not express any interest in that fellow. In fact, she expressed some distaste with regard to his attitude. I concurred.

She spent almost the whole trip listening to her ipod, not involved in the conversation. Sometimes, her silence makes me nervous, like she's thinking about things she would rather not speak of. Not speak with me anyway. I do tend to freak out often, so I can't say I blame her for not wanting to share everything with me. But I do wish she would try. I mean, I freak out, but it usually doesn't last long, and it isn't too crazy. Rather than bottling things up until they fester and eat you from the inside, finally bursting out in a terrible storm of emotion. I don't look forward to meeting up with "Hurricane Michelle".

***

Pork chops are sizzling away now, frying in the pan. Should flip them soon, and assemble a lunch for m'lady, and off to visit her. Hmmm, slightly burnt, these pork chops be. But the breading stuck to them at least, that's kind of the hard part to making these particular pork chops. Watching X-files, cooking, writing, smoking. Multi-tasking to say the least. Spoke to Michelle not long ago, she called to see if I was cooking yet.

Now the food is done, packaged up and ready to go. I am going to relax and smoke a cigarette, then call Michelle, and head out to visit her at her place of employment. Sorry if this is boring to read, not a whole lot going on. Perhaps later, while I work, I will discuss my trip to Bathurst for Thanksgiving or my school preparation issues. Maybe I should make a call about that now...

May random find you well,
\m/

End of the Month

I'm a little nervous about the end of the month now. It looks as though we'll be evicted on the twenty-third of this month, and we only have a new place to live as of the first of next month. Obviously, that poses a problem. Not so much where will we stay, we can get a cheap hotel room for a week, but where will we keep all our stuff? We have a rather large bed, a fish tank, a cage with three ferrets, a few chairs, some tables, the usual stuff really. Too much to bring to a hotel room. Also, as I work from home over the internet, so, if we stay in a hotel room for a week, I'll have to take a week off I guess.

Not only that, we'll have to pay the first month's rent, along with the damage deposit, and this month's rent that we didn't pay yet. Plus I need to get my criminal record check for school by the twenty-eighth, and make my way out to Dieppe some time soon to meet with a Training and Skills Development Canada officer or counsellor, I don't know what they like to be called yet.

But, I have been working a lot more. Today makes five days in a row, haven't done that in a while. If I continue working everyday for the next two weeks or so, I should have a good check for the end of the month too. Michelle wants to do something, maybe go on a little weekend trip to Halifax or something around Moncton.

That gives me an idea; we had wanted to go camping when we were in Bathurst, but were too busy. Perhaps this might be a good time to go camping. It is getting late in the summer now, the campgrounds should be fairly emptied out, if we even go to one. We should be pretty well set to relax for a few days. Hell, we could maybe camp instead of getting a hotel room. Shower at a friend's place, hope for good weather, that sorta thing. Food for thought anyway.

Well, work is getting a little busier, so I best focus on that for a while. May random find you well.
\m/

Bilous

I felt alright this morning. I figured I'd make it to work no troubles.
Ten minutes before my shift, I ended up puking bile.
But I made it in alright.

I was worried when I woke up. I knew I had been online, written to a friend's girlfriend.
Business as usual for me and the bottle. Nothing too offensive though, so all's well.

I had a strange dream last night. I was with a girl, a little younger than me. She was blonde and wearing a red dress. We were at my parent's house, and we kept moving from room to room because... I think I was leading her around. I wanted to be alone with her, but we kept being interrupted or I was distracted. I got the feeling she was uninterested. Eventually, after far too much relocation, we finally achieved some measure of privacy, and she promptly left.

I felt like I knew this girl, but couldn't identify her. My focus was too much on my environment, and not enough on my companion. Thus, I was inevitably left to face the environment alone.
Subtle, no? Pull your head out now.

I can almost smell the old PC Games. The sense of wonder. The new technology. The excitement. I miss the newness. Even the beauty. I remember Doom, and Dune 2, and even Commander Keen. Duke Nukem 3-D. Bio-Menace. Raptor; Call of Shadows, Solar Winds; The Escape, Monkey Island, Hugo's House of Horrors, One Must Fall 2097, MegaRace, Death Rally, Red Baron, Stellar 7, Stunts, Quest for Glory 4, Police Quest, King's Quest 5, Descent, X-Wing and TIE Fighter, Lemmings, The Incredible Machine, Prince of Persia, Jagged Alliance, XCom; Terror from the Deep, The Dig, Full Throttle, Under a Killing Moon, The Lost Vikings, Cannon Fodder, Postal, Grand Theft Auto, Ghostbusters, Warcraft, Star Craft, Civilization, Masters of Magic, Seven Cities of Gold, so many games. I've invested a lot of my time in games. Good memories. I just hope it wasn't a waste. Even table-top games, board games and card games.

I think it's almost time for a game of Risk.

Evade and avoid, don't think about that. What's health? Don't worry about the future. Maybe that's the dream's message; stop worrying about the future so much, and do something you like now. Play your games. Read your fiction. Don't worry so much. Fuck, I'm worried about whether I worry too much; that's a good indication that I do.

Dexter 3 this weekend.
I hope that Flight of the Conchords season 2 is good.
My little TV digression.

I feel like working until the sun goes down. Staying out of sight until nightfall. Earning monies lost in yesterday's absenteeism. Avoiding potentially uncomfortable conversations entirely. Wait until everyone is asleep, then emerge to wander at will. Somewhat like a vampire I'd gather, but without the coffin. But, alas, I am hungry, and must venture forth, into the light, to retrieve suitable snacks.

Pizza would be swell.

I'm too sensitive. I don't want to hear about how I'm not living up to my potential. I don't want to discuss my thoughts, for fear of ridicule. I don't want to try, in case I disappoint myself. Enough of this self-loathing bah-log-nah, this is why I drink. You can't be sensitive if you can't really feel. Then, not paralyzed by fear, I am able to speak and do things for a while, that otherwise I would not be able to will myself to say or do. Of course, I end up making mistakes and being sloppy, but at least I'm doing something. This sounds to me like an error in judgement. Flawed logic on my part. The flaw is assuming the only way to overcome fear is with alcohol, or drugs I guess, depending on the fear. I'm not sure what needs to be done, if anything, to get me to move on with life and live it and shit. But if something does need to be done, I bet it's way more work than getting drunk.