Fickle

Ohhhhhh what fickle emotions I have.

The date last night consisted of sushi and then wine and cards at my apartment. He stayed the night. And we had sex.

So. That happened.

It HURT like the fucking first time because it’s been seventeen hundred years since I’ve had sex.

Also I don’t know how I feel. About him. I look at him and I don’t feel that FEELING, you know? The one you wants when you’re starting a relationship. I’ve been alone for so long that I’m having a difficult time getting away from that mentality. The ME mentality. Everything is all about me and I don’t really care about who is hanging out around me. Because it’s all about me. What I want to do, the pace that I want to do it, the level of everything that I want.

That sounds awful doesn’t it? Whatever.

So the sex was okay, it doesn’t really feel like anything. Like nothing really happened. I don’t think there are good signs around any of it.

I had breakfast this morning with Jason and his new girlfriend Morganne ( LOVE HER ) and Will. It was sufficiently awkward in the way that we all knew that everyone at the table had been getting freaky the night before. But whatevs. I had two bloody mary’s and like 20 cups of coffee and now I’m at the office doing the fast cleaning job EVER because Jason and I are going to see Breaking Dawn in an hour and a half exactly.

Last night my season ticket holding friend texted and asked if I wanted 4 tickets to the Seahawks game tomorrow. So Will, Kaddy, her husand and I are all going. Sunday funday is dangerous and I need to keep my motherfucking self in check so I don’t feel like calling in sick on Monday. Because that’s bad and I won’t be doing it. Neither do I want to be hungover. But YAY football and yay friends!!!

So yeah. I am on the fence and I don’t want to be blase about this situation because it’s so tricky. I will say, however, that I’m not mad at the meals being bought for me. Especially since I’m running low in the bank account. I haven’t been the best at the cleaning job so I feel guilty turning in an invoice when I have basically fibbed on the hours I’ve worked for the past month. What can I say. Woopsies times a thousand.

I am kind of tipsy.

K. Well that’s it for today. Nojomo PLEASE STOP.