Hi! Just fresh out of the shower, so I thought I’d say hello while my self-tanning lotion sinks in to my skin.
It’s been another busy couple of weeks. I guess I thrive on that, but sometimes I’m sooooo jealous of people who don’t work 60+ hour work weeks. Like, I always wonder who those people are and if they are just wealthy or what the story is.
I guess it’s like the time when I was laid off (er….fired!) for 10 months. Funny. I loved having the time, and I could see how someone could really get into the not working thing. But I was always so stressed out about how I was going to pay the rent and how much I should pay for that nice meal, you know?
And then I think about what it would be like to have a job that was middle of the road. Like when I assisted the big bosses of the world. I liked that too. Less responsibility. Less stress.
But little by little I think I wanted more, or I guess that’s just what happens naturally?
And NOW I have this job that’s very stressful and I guess I fake stuff pretty well and seem cool, calm and collected. So they’ve decided to give me MORE responsibility after just a few short months.
I’ve almost been with the company for 4 months, and they are going to have me manage another product category in addition to the one I’m running now.
Scary thought. I will manage 5 people (up from 3) and be busier than ever. My boss wants me to think about how I’d like to structure my area over the weekend. I have until Monday. Oh boy.
Anyway, boot camp was fantastic this morning! I love workouts like that because it just somehow seems to take alllllll of that stress and worry away. Work stuff; relationship stuff; asshole teenager stuff…it all goes away!
SP and I got into a weird fight this week. He wasn’t traveling and his friend had gotten us all tickets to see this concert. We went to a new Mexican restaurant before the show and SP and I were drinking something called “Mexican Martinis” ….oh boy.
So, there was some kind of tequila-fueled bullshit already happening, and SP just turned into a weird asshole.
We decided to leave the concert and he was dropping me back at my place. I noticed that he was parallel parking the car in front of my building and I thought that he was just dropping me off. I asked him what he was doing and he told me that he was coming upstairs to fuck my brains out.
My, my!
It was really good, drunken stuff. It’s been a long time since we’ve had that kind of steamy sex and I had been thinking about it a bit.
Life is funny. i don’t know what’s going on with SP and me. I love him dearly, but I know he hates the fact that I’m not into his kid. I wonder about it all.
What to do, what to do?
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