Blue Light

 The guy got into a relationship. I expected it. It still would have been nice to get an answer back from him. I suck at this, it seems. I won’t play games. I won’t do this cat and mouse bullshit. I don’t want to fucking chase anyone. I just want to be with them. Life’s too short for bullshit.

I’m supposed to be going down to Tampa next week. That’s, of course, if my boss doesn’t decide to change the fucking schedule again. I was supposed to go down this week, but she changed it to where I worked 2 hours per day every day this week. Fuck. I’m supposed to be seeing that girl next week. I’m hoping something does happen with her. She’s wonderful. And we’ve been texting every night–except tonight, but still. She seems to understand things about me that not many people do. She listens. She doesn’t judge. She works at an art museum.

I told H that I was supposed to be going on a date with her soon. This was the night of the show. She was kind of drunk. But she smiled, emitting that "ohhh" she usually says, and told me that’s great. Then I left because I wasn’t playing. H messaged me today asking the next time I’d be down. She wants to film some sketches and stuff. She has ideas.

My mother ranted for half an hour today about there not being a bakery around here except for Publix. And my father ranted about the fact that white people also get profiled and not just black people. Then he went into a whole spew about this one time he got profiled by a Korean guy. 

I also slept for a lot of the day. The rain does that to me, and I don’t mind. I just have to wake up is the only problem. I want to go back to bed now, but I’m not that tired.

Fuck.