Insanity
18 June 2004 at 10:40 am

I'm sitting here at work, tears streaming down my face, blaming it on allergies -- I have something in my eye, people buy it, they don't want to know anyway...oh wait, nobody's noticed, I sit square in the middle of an office, people facing me in every direction, no one looking up long enough to see some girl crying. Not that I would admit it anyway. My hair is covering my face so that you can't see my eyes and I'm rubbing at them like I'm tired, wiping my face off with a tissue like I'm cleaning up a messy meal. What's wrong, Morgan, don't worry about it, you're not a bad receptionist. I'm not a receptionist at all, you dumbass, no one is a receptionist, it's not a state of being, it's a part you play, it's something you do In The Meantime, it's fucking purgatory.

Aaron and I talked about him moving back to Illinois last night. I came home from school after a 14-hour day, greeted by a sopping wet dog and two inches of water flooding the bathroom and the hallway. Nice. The dog had chewed through something and the water had been spurting for hours. I spent the night shoveling water into the tub, wondering how in the hell it happens, of all the shit luck in the world, how did I end up with more than my share. It's not a question. I don't want the answer. There isn't an answer. No one ever said life was fair, oh ho ho, but they could have told us it was fuck-all worth it.

We wouldn't break up and he wouldn't move out until the end of the year. But he hates it here and we need to know that we can be apart and be ok and then I could graduate and we could move somewhere else together.

Because, you know, that's how it happens. Everything always works out just how you plan it, especially relationships. Aaron will spend the year bettering himself, getting to know himself, becoming stronger and smarter and self-sufficient. I'll spend the year learning how to clean up after myself and entertain myself and make friends on my own. And then we'll move somewhere together and start fresh and nothing will have changed except for the stuff that was supposed to.

If you're just tuning it, that's supposed to come off as bitter.

WORST. WEEK. EVER.

Although I have to say, I watched Sex and the City Season 6 Part 1 Disc 3 last night and it made me feel two-and-three-quarters times better. I calculated. And you know the thing, "This can't be the day I was broken up with by a post-it note"? That's a really good way to look at a situation. This won't be the day I cried at work and no one noticed or cared enough to ask why, it'll be the day I ate a dozen Krispy Kremes and a pint of Half Baked B&Js and drank a bottle of $5 chardonnay and fell asleep blasting the Dandy Warhols or Joan Jett or Franz Ferdinand -- no, definitely Elton John and wake up the next morning with a smirk on my lips and chocolate stuck to my forehead and I'll laugh and I'll laugh and I'll be untouchable.

And potentially certifiable as well, but that might be the whole idea.

one year ago today: "disappointment runs amuck in this little thing called life."

two years ago today: nothin.

three years ago today: "another day that didn't really need to happen" and "hi. i'm a college student. and thus, i have no life." and "so bored i'm wiggling"

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.