You're bound to get mud on your hands
I really do have a habit of making things complicated for myself.
Oh wait! Before I get into anything, I have a correction to make from the last post. As a joke, I called the surgeon Dr. Bff. The surgeon and I are not actual bffs. Bffffffff was kind enough to point out my mistake. Angrily. But I love him for it.
Damn, it's been a while since I posted. Alright, so I complicate my own life. I don't exactly mean to, it just kind of happens.
I guess things are getting a bit serious with Hermes. We've been going to dinner and watching movies quite a bit. I've been enjoying it. Not overly enjoying it; I think he's more excited about the whole thing than I am. Maybe I'll get there...but who knows. I keep doing this to myself. It just seems kind of tiring. It probably has nothing to do with him; more so my feelings on dating and life in general right now.
I've been feeling kind of tired for a lot of reasons...the health issues not being the least. Everyone keeps telling me how positive I've been with it, which I guess is good, but I'm not sure how else one would act. I'm just trying to carry on with my life...I'm not sure how that's so noble or whatever.
But also, there's just so much gross in the world. So much violence and hatred and selfishness. For some weird reason it really gets to me and stresses me out. So it just makes me tired to even try. And, of course, it came to a head yesterday. I had to teach, which is always hard for me anyway. And there were people who were rude and not paying attention and I have a hard time with that. Especially since these are my coworkers, and (as far as trainings go) it's actually a pretty interesting and fun class. I really don't understand being so disrespectful and mean. I was really upset, but things usually look better in the sunrise of the next day. So I had a new resolve to be positive and focus on the individuals who are interested and keep doing the best I can.
I also get way too introspective when I have time to think and mull. That's probably a big part of this stuff. Also my stress builds on itself and I end up making it a lot worse.
Anywhoooo...the other night Hermes and I were hanging out and he started talking about the first night we saw each other. Uh, I guess it wasn't really the first night, since we'd obviously seen each other the weekend of Harry's wedding. But the first time lately...the first second time...the second first time...something with a one and a two I guess.
He said that he'd noticed me as soon as I walked in the door and pointed me out to Harry. Harry then reminded him who I was and encouraged him to get to know me. That actually kind of irritated me. Like part of me wanted to yell at him and ask if everyone was seriously just going to ignore how slightly crazy and dysfunctional the situation is. It's probably good that I restrained myself. He also mentioned Soldier for the first time. I really didn't like it.
The legs are still being ridiculous. They're actually really bad today, which is probably because I was standing almost the whole time I taught yesterday. I should have known better. But, I did see the surgeon again today, so maybe it worked on my behalf that they weren't playing nice. It's back to testing...a more intensive MRI is in the works, whatever that means.
I feel like this post has a different feel to it. I got halfway through The Perks of Being a Wallflower while I was waiting for the surgeon. (Wtf. When I first went to see him, everything happened so quickly, and I'd be in and out in about 45 minutes. Today I didn't even see him for an hour and a half after my appointment time. I think it made my legs angrier.) But, the book though. I absolutely love it. It's so simple, but so deep. And I get so emotionally attached to books that my thinking and talking (and writing, I guess) will kind of mirror that. It's a little alarming, actually. Kind of makes me question my sanity...can I really have that great of a handle on reality when my mental state can be (albeit temporarily) shaken by a story? Eh, whatever; lock me up in a padded room...at least that way I'd have a lot of time to read a lot of stories! I just really hope it has a happy ending.
I'm supposed to have dinner with Hermes again tomorrow. He has a nice tendency to suggest the next date as we're ending one. (Does that make sense? Seems a little muddy. When we were together on Friday he suggested dinner for Tuesday. Ugh, muddier, cause today's Tuesday and all. He suggested dinner but then we ended up getting together again on Sunday, and we decided that Wednesday would be better. I guess that's not at all a good example. But he attempted to make the plans. Whatever. You're all smart cookies, you can figure it out.)
So, dinner again tomorrow, assuming my legs don't kill me in the meantime. (What if they actually did and that was the last thing I wrote about? God, what a morbid thought.)
It would be nice to just get rid of them and start over. I think in my next life I'll be a starfish.
No comments:
Post a Comment