yellowducky's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Soap Opera Continues Wait. Hold on. Do you hear that sound? That’s me, not hibernating. My resolution lasted just a little under 24 hours. Then, I went to my friend’s basketball game and the Firefighter was there on a date. How dare he. No, I don’t want him, but he could have had the decency to wait a short time before going out with somebody else. I was going to. The result of that was Flyboy allowed me to shamelessly use him, and the referee flirted outrageously with me (of course I encouraged him). Thursday night I ran into the referee again. Why yes sir, I am wearing Wranglers. Thank you for noticing. Of course I happened to be flirting with the Physical Therapist at the time. Why don’t we start calling him Hands. Side note: it’s really hard to get a relationship started when they guy keeps telling you how intimidated he is by you! Believe me folks, there’s nothing intimidating about me; I’m about as non-threatening as they come. I’ve even started pointing out my many faults, but he’s refusing to see them. Idiot. Last night the Pilot and I went to a dance. Who else was there? Hands and the Firefighter. I felt like I had a little harem going on. Should I feel bad that the Firefighter just sat and watched me all night, looking miserable? No, no I don’t think I will. If he had played the game by my rules, we would have each taken a little down time, and then been very circumspect with our dates in front of each other. Flyboy kept laughing at me and calling me a player. I just said, “aren’t you glad I don’t play you!” It has not been all flirting and fun this week, however. Things in the shelter are always volatile, as my loyal readers are well aware. This week we have the added joy of the flu. Fun, fun stuff. Flyboy helped me with my taxes Wednesday night. He was so sweet and patient with my ineptitude. Halfway through, intense pain and pressure hit. I tried to ignore it. It didn’t go away. I tried to downplay it and asked for some Tylenol. It didn’t touch it. I finally closed my eyes and tried to take a little nap. An hour later I threw up in his bathroom. Full-blown migraine. I’ve never allowed myself to throw up in front of a guy before. So embarrassing. I wanted to just leave right then, but he wouldn’t let me drive myself home. It turned out to be okay, because that meant we got to spend the next day together when he came to get me to pick up my vehicle. He was very sweet about the whole thing. My mom is in the hospital. Her husband had her commit herself to a psych unit because he found a suicide note. My mom’s husband, in an act of sheer stupidity, decided to tell my brother before telling me. My brother, as we’ve discussed, is not the most stable person and this has really thrown him. I’m really, really, really, really, really mad. One of my best friends is being transferred to Denver. Flyboy will be leaving the Valley of the Sun at the end of April. He promises me that it’s very temporary and the first opening in a jet that comes available here will be his. He says three months at the most, and even in those three months he’ll maintain his residence here, be here on his days off, and have me come up to visit him. I still feel bereft. He’s not too excited about it either. If he doesn’t take it though, it will be another year before he can get out of the Dash8 and receive his raise. I’m trying fervently to be supportive. He’s worried about ground school that starts in a few weeks. I’m going to help him study. I’m going to miss him so much. I found a therapist. Our first session is on Thursday. By the time Thursday rolls around I’ll have convinced myself that I don’t have any problems and that I need to cancel my appointment. Then I’ll sabotage another relationship and make another appointment. Actually, going when I’m not upset means I won’t be so melodramatic—thus more honest. Did ya’ll know I have a flair for hyperbole and melodrama? 9:01 a.m. - March 23, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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