Vaccinations, registration, and proving the doubters wrong

It’s 2:54 pm and I’ve had a day. Not in a bad way, but definitely a full day.
I got my varicella vacine this morning at Walgreens and I got in, got the shot and was on my way. But when I got to my car I read the receipt and it said the shot she gave me was mmr not varicella. I frantically googled varicella and mmr to see if they were medically synonymous; they are not. So I just about had a melt down because it took so much for me to actually go there and do that and speak to like five different people. I almost started crying and decided that this was it, I just wasn’t going to go to college. It was clearly fate.
I went back in and signed in again, and patiently waited an hour to get the right receipt because apparently the only issue was the nurse charted it wrong, despite having actually given me the right shot.
I drove directly to health services and turned in my proof of immunization and as I walked back to my car, I logged into my uwg to make sure all of my holds were actually off.

Then I drove to newnan and moseyed around habitat for humanity to see if I found a large desk that trumped the one I was planning on getting at goodwill. None did but they did have some good things, Chris and I will have to come back some time.

Now about that desk.

I must preface by saying that this desk is 60×40 inches give or take half an inch.

Three different people asked me if I could take it home today and each time I said “yeah, given I can take it apart” and two of those people were like “uh it doesn’t come apart?” And I was like “well it has screws (and is clearly a mass manufactures desk that has letter labels on the different parts that almost definitely coordinate with its set of instructions for a person to put it together in their own home)” and I’m still not quite sure if that was a really dumb sounding answer or a condescending answer. And one guy even went so far to tell me “WE can’t take it apart for you, you can try to take it apart, but we can’t.” And “you’re gonna need a truck for this you just have that little bug” And I was just like “yeah ok I got it that was the plan anyway”
So they put it on the ground outside and I took it apart in ten minutes or so, just like I knew I could. And went back in to get someone to help me actually pick it up to put in my car.
Because fuck all of you.


It’s such a victorious feeling to be able to do something people tell you repeatedly you won’t be able to. I mean, this was just a desk, and that was just goodwill, and they are just not used to some lady buying a huge desk and insisting she will be able to take it home in her VW Beetle. But it’s, you know, a metaphor.



On Progressing and Projecting

I honestly did think I was ready to move in with him. I really did, I even told him I was going to move in in January even if I didn’t find a new job and had to commute 30 miles to the one I have and am not particularly fond of right now.
But after being at his house for four days, I came home to my tiny 9’x9’ bedroom and was so happy to be here. I was happy to dump my stuff on it’s place on the floor and put my sunglasses on my dresser and put my jacket on the back of my chair and step over the mess that was mine, all mine, to sit at my desk.

Someone once said that I’d be the kind of person who would move in with her bf and still have her own room. And maybe my own room is what I need when I do finally make that move. Maybe I can turn one of the other rooms into my office and have my desk and my books and my cds and my guitars in there and it’ll be my space. Because looking around my room right now I am cringing at the thought of his mess encroaching on my space.

Maybe that dream about him getting cold feet about me moving wasn’t about him, it was about me getting cold feet and projecting it so I don’t have to be the one to ruin it.

Everything Happens So Much

I got a ticket for driving while my registration was suspended. That was, is, and will continue to be awful. I currently owe the city of Carrollton $1030.50. I think the 50 cents is the most insulting and infuriating part because it’s so unnecessary. You’re already making me pay over a grand for something that wasn’t even dangerous or damaging to property and you have to add cents onto it? Really? 

Plain rude.

I didn’t know my registration was suspended, to be honest. I’m sure I looked like an idiot when the officer told me so. Did I mention I have a court date next month for it? Not in the way where I have to go to court if I don’t pay the fine before a certain date, it’s actually mandatory that I go to court to settle the citation. I’ll probably have a panic attack and just disintegrate in the parking lot. I already cried for like, three days over it. It was pathetic.

Of Love And Letters

I tried again to write your letter but you’re never going to get it. I like you but I don’t want to lie to you and say I want to spend the rest of my life with you because I don’t think I do. I dont want to say I want to wake up to you every morning and kiss your shoulder because I’m not sure I do. I don’t want to say that I can imagine a house and kids with you because that’s not even a thing I want.

It would be easy, but it wouldn’t be fair to regurgitate all the things you’ve said to me back to you because it wouldn’t be true.

I guess I’m holding out for someone who is amazing, someone who blows my mind, someone who changes the way I feel about love.

I think I’m that person for you. You talk about twenty years from now and children together and riding bikes together but you’ve never actually asked me what I want twenty years from now. You mentioned how you don’t feel gross when you say sweet things and call me doll like you did with other girlfriends. I’m different to you. I crawled in your brain and fucked everything up for you. But it’s okay, you say.

You’re not that person for me.

Dont’ get me wrong, I thought you were at first. Two weeks ago, even, I was so excited to see you on campus and just get to walk around holding your hand. I was still too nervous to even tell you what I wanted that day. I don’t know what changed. I wish it hadn’t. I’m sorry it changed.


I’m always a little bit scared. And not because of what you ex girlfriend, who is still in love with you, says. It has nothing to do with her (although I do wish she’d fuck right off). I’m scared our lack of common interests will leave us with nothing to bond over. But maybe it could just leave with more to share with the other.

I’m scared you’ll grow tired from giving so much time and patience to me and get very little of me in return. I’m scared I’ll get tired of you. I was so excited and now it’s no longer exciting, it’s just nice. I mean, maybe if I hadn’t seen him two hours ago and wasn’t going to see him again tonight, I might be more excited.

And I’m a little bit scared because you keep talking about the future. You never say “our kids” or “our house” but you mention these things you want in the future in the same breath as saying you can see us together twenty years down the road. And I’m sure it’s scary for you to get no reassurance, no response, no equivalent from me back.

And every time I want to say that I think I love you, I sigh instead because I think it’s too soon or I’m not sure I’d mean it. Every time you ask “what?” and every time I say “nothing.”

Maybe I just think i love you because I think I’m supposed to love you but maybe I do or maybe I will and maybe you’ll love me back or maybe you already do or maybe we’re just kidding ourselves here.

But for now, “I’m very fond of you” is going to have to do.



Moving on up

Two months into my part-time job and I’m already getting promoted to supervisor.

I feel like kind of an overachieving asshole for getting promoted even though there are four other associates that have all been there at least six months longer than me but then I remember that I still work in retail and nothing I could possibly accomplish in this direction would be considered overachieving

“selling myself slightly less short than if I half-assed it” maybe
or “doing mediocre” probably
or “screwing up but at least you’re doing that well” is pretty accurate
or “pretty ok”

I’ve been rapidly alternating between being proud of myself and telling myself this is the least I could do god if I was doing any less great in this I should be really ashamed.


And the manager mentioned that assistant manager was leaving soon because she’s transferring to another store and I know that the company normally promotes from within so that actually means that there’s a chance that I can become assistant manager and fuck. Maybe I’m arrogant for thinking there’s a chance for me to go from an interview to AM in less than a year but I’m actually worried. This isn’t wishful thinking, promise. I’m hoping I don’t because I know if I do I’ll be stuck. I won’t want to leave or quit. And working in fucking retail was definitely not one of my dreams.

A Full Time Job

I had an interview for a full time job, you know, the kind where you work grown-up hours. I was so nervous that I was thisclose to barfing and/or crying the entire 20 hours leading up to it. But it was surprisingly brief and painless. At least, I think it was painless. Maybe it was painful in the way you get hurt and don’t realize you were hemorrhaging until you’re dead. I have to wait until Monday to find out if I’m getting hired I guess but this wait is much less anxiety-inducing. 

I feel like getting a full time job at this age and in this situation is dancing in dangerous territory. This is how it begins, you know: You’re off from school and looking for work. You accidentally fall into this full-time gig and hey, you’ve got nothing but time because you’re not in school right now and besides, more work, more money, and you can support yourself! That’s exciting, the thrill of being self-sufficient. And you’ll still have funds left over to save for when you go back, because, at this point, you still plan on going back. And at first maybe you can’t wait to quit, at first, maybe it really is a temporary position to you. But then you get used to it. And you get good at it. And then they give you responsibility. And then the office needs you there and you know the people and you care about the people there so you can’t just abandon them. And then you don’t have the time to go back to school so you say, “I’ll start in summer instead.” 

And then it’s fall semester. 

And then it’s spring semester again.

And then you’re thirty and you’ve delayed going back to college for so long and you already have a good job so who needs it, right? But you’re just saying that because you’ve gotten comfortable and you’re making excuses.

I don’t want to be thirty and making excuses.