Meanderings

Do you ever wish you could just say what you really feel? I wish that all the time. Even here, I don't really feel comfortable talking about things, even though that's the whole point of having this blog. I often want to go back and take things down that I've written, but I try to make myself leave them up. I'm censorious of myself, and I guess I expect other people to be, too.


I'm dreading going home tomorrow. I don't like being there. I like being in my house, in my bed, with my air conditioner on and able to stay up until I get sleepy and sleep until I'm rested. Plus, with all the family drama? Ugh.

My mama *did* order my prescriptions for me today, though. She said she called them in when she called hers in. So I won't have to actually go pick it up, at least, which is one less thing to worry about. Supposedly, I'm getting Freon and new brake pads for the truck, and hopefully, someone will be able to tell me why the damn thing goes dead if it idles too long. I'm hoping the idle just needs to be turned up. The other possibilities aren't so good.


The past couple of days, I've really been fighting the urge to go do something stupid sexually. I *know* it won't make me feel better. It'll just make me feel worse.

In my defense, it's been over 2 years since I did anything like that. I made a vow to myself after I fucked all that shit up that I wouldn't do it again because of the toll that it takes on me and sometimes on others. I've done pretty well so far, but it gets hard resisting the old urges sometimes.


*Sigh* His birthday is this weekend. I feel bad that I haven't done anything, no gift or whatever. But I know as precarious as the situation is, it wouldn't be advisable. Hell, I haven't even TALKED to him in nearly a month. I hope that it goes well for him, but I wish I could do something--anything, really. No, actually, what I really wish is that I could walk up to him with the solution to this mess in my hand and go, "Here. Happy Birthday. It's all fixed now. You're welcome."


I've gotten all my work done through the weekend now, so I don't have to worry about that, thank God. I need to get up and pack, but I don't think it's going to happen. I also need to clean the truck out, but I don't see *that* happening, either.

My days seem to go by in a blur. I feel like all I ever do is work, so I guess that's why. One just blends seamlessly into the next, and then I wake up and realize I've lost several days, pounding the keys.

I REALLY need to get out more.