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Even being my own censorship board doesn’t always keep me safe.  After a long weekend trying to work patiently beside Pinocchio (one day he might be a real boy, who knows) I knew I needed some down time.   I hate that Jordan is not self motivated.  I expect it of teenagers but it aggravates me when it’s a grown adult who knows better, has had appropriate behaviour modeled for them and who I  have had many a frank discussion with and claims to want to be self motivated. 

I tried really hard not to vent my frustration for the greater good and to keep the work occurring at a decent pace.  I did some stupid shit to keep the frustration at bay like scour Mike’s facebook friend list to see if any of my old friends could be found on it and instead found in excess of three of his fuck toys on his friends list including the triple amputee.  Rowen discussed a very personal matter with me which is so unlike Rowen it had me worried long into the night about something fairly commonplace.

Day two of house stuff and Pinocchio’s friend comes over and they do and hour and a half of work and then play video games for 2 and a half hours and Rowen is still bedless and dresserless by the time Pinocchio is ready for dinner.    I start really missing Dylan because he knew me and knew when I was pushing too hard and made me stop and knew when I needed down time and well…. He knew me, didn’t he? 

Pinocchio doesn’t know me; he hasn’t had the time to do that.  He doesn’t know what my favourite kind of date is and he doesn’t know what I think is romantic and he doesn’t know what I like in bed and he doesn’t know what side of the bed I’d prefer to sleep on….. Knowing these things is not a necessary function for him.

So while Pinocchio was busy dreaming of becoming a real boy and totally unaware of how frustrated I was, how hard I pushed and how badly I needed some down time I slipped away to get some.  I thought I would watch some fluff, a comedy, just to keep my mind distracted and my temper in check.  I figured as I had watched Two Weeks Notice, About A Boy and Notting Hill over the course of the weekend and all had delivered on the distraction and temper check that I would watch another Hugh Grant movie last night to do the same.

Even being my own censorship board doesn’t always keep me safe.  I read the synopsis.  I thought the only thing that might be a bit sticky was the movie was set at Christmas time.  It started off full of promise and Hugh Grant made me laugh in the first few minutes.  As I type this now and the tears are welling up in my eyes again, as they have done all morning long…. I know I made the wrong choice.  Love Actually is not a fucking comedy, not a comedy at all.