birthday

It was Paco’s birthday yesterday. I threw a party for him (read: picked his favorite bar and invited people) and it was a great turnout and great times. Paco got drunk really fast and we left the party probably at the height of it. But so it goes when people keep buying you shots.

That was Saturday. His real bday was yesterday. I made us clam linguini and we chilled watching tv, went to bed early.

Had fantastic sex, which is constant and I’m eternally grateful for that fact.

After sex, we layed intertwined and exchanged proclamations of love and perfection.

 

Sometimes, my thoughts turn to my impending death and I am nearly paralyzed by the thought. When I went to counseling a couple years ago to try to fix my anxiety, the therapist told me that when I think about something that gives me anxiety, I should immediately think of something that calms me instead. I used to think about a beach and waves and sunshine, but now I only think about Paco.

 

Work has been extremely overwhelming with the Olympics coming up, and winter season beginning soon.

Arranging travel to Sochi has proved to be one of the most frustrating task I’ve ever been faced with. Dealing with lodging brokers and relaying the information to my boss, who is never satisfied with the options. It’s is so draining.

I have taken to sending weekly task lists to my boss to show him that I’m working constantly even though he seems to assume that I’m free and open to do anything and everything he mentions to me.

I wish I could be ADHD like he is, and still complete tasks. But I am a one-track mind kind of person, and if my focus is on something, it’s on that and that only, until it’s finished. I can’t be 25 different places at once.

That’s why prioritizing is so important to me.

 

I’m concerned that OD is going to be gone completely forever, and soon. I started an account on Prosebox, but I don’t think my habit of writing will translate to another site. It’s just not the same. It’s not the same therapy I’ve grown accustomed to.

Plus, how will I find my OD friends?

I am legitimately worried that it will be gone, and when it goes, I will probably go too.

I toughed it out for so long, you know, trying not to be upset or annoyed about the lack of communication from the elusive Diary Master. But I’ve been worn down to the point that every time I get an error, can’t open a page, or can’t save my entry, I shake my head and mourn a bit. It’s just sad.

My bookmarks have gone from around 15 to about 5, with infrequent updates, myself included. It’s just a bummer. Like a graveyard of sorts.

 

My vacation was so lovely and dreamy and I hold it close to my heart. When I feel down, I try to think of Mexico. Of the people. The food. The beach. The ocean. The clouds. The sex. The affection. The walks. The animals. The fish. The colors.

It seems so far away… but it gives me so much motivation to prepare to travel to Argentina. I just want that.