Junk from the Trunk in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

  • Dec. 2, 2004, midnight
  • |
  • Public

I have junk rolling around in my little brain. Bear with me while I let this stuff dribble out clumsily.

I think I’ve had an epiphany of sorts after the brief meeting with Super T. last week and after reading certain excerpts from He’s Just Not Into You over and over again. Guys like Super T. and Q. are not worth the time that I’ve spent yearning and hoping that something will come out of it. They are not happy with their own lives, and as much as I love to play the role of supportive girlfriend, the one who sticks by her man through thick and thin (um…thin and thin?), I simply can’t do it anymore. Not at the fragile beginnings of a relationship, anyway. I’m at a place in my life where it just doesn’t work. And frankly, I just don’t have the time to sit around and wait for the guy to figure his shit out. I’m done with that.

Goodbye Super T. Goodbye Q. (and I mean it this time! I really, really do!!).

* dusting off hands *

I’ve decided to get my home a little feng shui’d a bit more than it has been. I honestly don’t know a lot (well, anything really) about the ins and outs of feng shui, but I do know that it involves uncluttering and simplifying and creating a welcoming environment so that the chi can move smoothly throughout. I’m not sure if this will help, but I finally ordered a new bed:

(Note: that’s not my bedroom. That’s just a photo of the bed that’s on order. Right now, my bedroom is not fit for a photo–hence the need for uncluttering).

I’m kind of excited about it! I sent an e-mail to my friend Jen with the photo attached and a line that went something like, not only is it pretty, but it could be good for a little light bondage as well!

She replied, calling me a perv.

Ugh. It’s so sad and true. What’s a girl to do? Since I have no real outlet, this “dirty thirty” stuff is killing me!!! Now I understand what my 18-year-old boyfriend was whining about back when I was 16 and very protective of my virginity. Why are sexual peaks so out of whack for men and women? I mean, I don’t necessarily walk around with a hard-on all the time, but I sure do come close to the female version of that.

Okay. Back to the home stuff. I haven’t heard any more from the realtor about the price of my place yet. I wonder if that means they are going to try to stick to the original sky-high asking price. I wonder what they will do if I lowball? Try to sell it to someone else? While I’m living and breathing in there? I guess they can do that. But that would surely suck.

I love this place sooooo much. And I can afford the asking price. I just got a raise. It was decent. I just want to feel like I’m getting a bargain and not jacked around, ya know? And then there’s this little nagging issue of wanting to move. What would happen if I buy this place and then all of a sudden I decide to move?

Eh. It’s not like I’d be the first person to buy something only to have to turn around and sell. Or maybe I’d keep it and rent it out. I don’t know. But the ants are running around in my pants and I need to do something. I hate stagnancy.

A measly pound and a half. That’s all I’ve lost since Fat-Ass Day…I mean, Thanksgiving. I suppose it’s better than gaining. But it’s so not fun. Especially since next week’s sales meeting is at the beach. Urgh. The hell if you think I’m gonna don a ‘kini in front of all of our pervy sales guys. I don’t even want to pack a swimsuit. But I guess I will. I don’t want to be left out of any physical water challenges or anything. You know how competitive I am!

But I have to get back down to where I was and then some. Honestly, not only for myself but for the image of the company that I need to project. The other day, I was talking to one of my teammates and we were moaning about gaining a little weight, and another teammate chimed in saying (directly to me), yeah…just think…you…getting up in front of our customers as the authority on [XYZ]!! It just wouldn’t work!

And she’s actually right. It’s amazing how much looks, weight, and image come into play in so many businesses. I’m sorry that I’m always fairly vague about what I do for a living, but you could really apply the image thing to most businesses…especially if you are in front of clients a lot. I suppose that’s one of the reasons I’ve been going overboard in the clothes-shopping department. Vicious cycle. But I refuse to buy a bigger size. No way, no how. If I have to squeeze my lard ass into those plaid pants and I blow the ass out, then it’s my own damn fault.

Enough of that crap. I need to get moving. Tomorrow’s my hot boss’s birthday and I have to get stuff to make cinnamon rolls in the morning. Too bad I can’t enjoy them. At least I’ll be able to smell them in the morning when I pop them out of the oven. Yum. I’m starving.

Did you catch that in the paragraph above? I said “hot boss”. Oh man. I don’t want to talk about it. Thirty-seven. No outlet. Thank heavens for my awesome shower head.

With that, I’m out.


Last updated 5 days ago


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