♥ Of course, this is not a national crisis. It's my life. Something like a fucked up rendition of your favorite soap opera, only it doesn't air on daytime TV. The plot plays itself out in my daily activities.
♥ If this is in fact so, I would play the coniving girlfriend of the man with the purest of hearts and intentions. Ugh. The one you all hate. On the contrary, I am not a bad person. Rather, a good person put in a bad situation.
♥ I want to scream. Who am I fooling? I play this role, but really it is just another scene in the daily script of this horrible charade:
Scene 1: Good morning world! Another Monday, where I kiss the boy and head off to my perfect job. (Screeching sound)....
The reality of this situation: I hit the snooze button at the five times before dragging myself out of bed. I grudgingly get ready for work and then attempt to kiss the man I am supposed to be in love with, but after two years of wordless dinners and a forced "I love you" at bedtime he grunts and rolls over back to sleep....
Scene 2: At work I chat happily with co-workers and finish up my work before heading home for the day. A busy and productive day at the office, AND I seem to be climbing up the corporate ladder! My boss loves me, in fact we plan on taking her quads out sometime this week to go riding after work...
Reality sets in: I hate my job. Half the time I sit here with nothing to do but write these wonderful blogs for you people. I work for a temporary employment agency, not the actual establishment I work AT. Climbing up the corporate ladder? Ha. This isn't even close to my idea of a career. Nursing school around the corner, I am just passing time and bringing in some income. There is one bit of truth to the whole situation: My boss and I do get along famously and we are in fact planning on riding sometime this week.
Scene 3: 5:00 PM and its finally time to go home. I pack up my things and drive home, where dinner is waiting for me and a sweet kiss from my boyfriend. I take the dogs for a walk after dinner and sit down with a glass of wine to watch TV before bed...
Take two: You can't even imagine the feeling of relief I have when I leave this place. I come home to an empty house and empty refridgerator. If I want food, I do the shopping and half the time I have no energy to do it after work. So fast food becomes the best alternative. The dogs are dirty from tearing the hell out of our new backyard and hate being on a leash more than anything in the world, and so I bust out the tequila and make margaritas which I consume until I am shitfaced drunk and then I go pass out in my clothes...ALONE. The boyfriend works nights at the bar and so there is little time for us to spend together.
♥ And then I get up and do it all over again the next day. My week is sprinkled with very few extraordinary events, save the fights Jon and I have over petty things. These "petty" things to him include: me having friends, me going out while he is at work, me in general. He doesn't approve of pretty much everything I do and frankly sometimes it pushes my last button. But how can I complain or leave him when he puts a roof over my head and takes car of the bills?
I had a dream last night. I was sleeping (in my dream) and my boyfriend came home after work and jumped into bed, showering me with kisses. But when I turned to face him, it wasn't my boyfriend at all, but my ex. The guy whose heart I broke by moving to Twentynine Palms in an impulsive decision to chase a marine who said "You'll be the death of me." When in actuality the underlying meaning was: "I'll get you to move 400 miles away from home and pretend to love you for a month and then grind your heart into ground beef by telling you that you're not 'the one'".
Next episode: The Marine
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