The Cost of My Desire / Sleep Now in the Fire

People are indicating that perhaps I have been watching too much TV and thus, the weird dream. But I have been a busy bee and haven't watched a full show until SVU last night. Before that, nada. And last night, I had a dream a la Saw and Saw II. I think it was Ashley Dill threatening to kill one of 4 friends with weird nicknames, like the One Who Shall not be Named had the codename Captain Obvious (I swear) and she was killing one of them and I had to figure out who the code names belonged to and how she would do it to prevent it. Because they were going to be killed in elaborate and torturous ways like in those movies; one scene in my dream had a guy trapped in a crawlspace behind an elevator that slowly filled with water. And people rode in the elevator and never noticed him and blood started mixing with the water because he was scratching so hard to get out. Dude, that shit is sick. In my course of trying to protect Kristen from an equally horrendous fate, my scheme somehow involved me making her run for Student Government. When I found out that Kristen wasn't going to be killed and I told her why I was sticking so close to her under the guise of elections, she didn't want to run anymore. And then, I swear on my life, I went behind the counter, pulled up a baby panda bear and said, "What if we made this the new mascot?"

I blame the Nyquil. To be fair, the panda was really adorable.

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My belly doesn't know what to do. I am pretty sore from last night's bellydancing session, but on the other hand, I just had an incredibly satisfying lunch. Happy? Sad? Closer to comatose in the end.

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I work in a room full of other paralegals. Except for Judy, who has a little corner office and is a manager of some sort. And we always kind of viewed her as our babysitter. She'd come out and say someone's music is too loud, for us to keep it down, do our homework, eat our veggies, etc.

And she retired yesterday. Her office is dark. Neighbor (who I don't know if I mentioned is also a cube neighbor as well) immediately started playing his music loudly upon her departure at 5:30 yesterday. First song choice? "Another one Bites the Dust." I like that kid. But now we can fully become the Romper Room that all the other paralegal rooms are and it's a refreshing change. Now, through most of the day, I sit at my desk and work with Billie on full blast. Neighbor is somewhat amazed at my anti-social tendencies during the work day. People can call, people sneak up on me all the time. I'm either in Work Zone or 293482749028493 blog Zone. But I've started branching out a bit and talking with folks a little bit. And now that Judy's gone, all Hell has broken loose in our paralegal room. Neighbor and I have started just randomly calling out "BALLS! SHIT!!" to each other just because Babysitter isn't going to come out and bust us. It's incredibly satisfying. That, and Neighbor has noticed the amount of office supplies that get thrown at his head from my direction has increased exponentially.


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I looked at this guy's MySpace profile, who is the one fellow I can claim to have broken his heart. Much like me, his infatuation was mostly in his head, but it was one of those situations where everyone else wanted me to be with him and so I tried to convince myself I liked him in that way, too; but that just resulted in me leading him on on several different occasions and it's probably the only Love Roadkill I can lay claim to (I think that the name of my band should be Love Roadkill, by the by. I just made that up and I'm loving it more and more upon reflection).

Anyhoozitmanias (that's just going to keep getting longer and longer just so you're aware--it's going to become the Anna Karenina of transitonal words), he changed his status on there to "In a Relationship." And I got upset all over again. Not like cryishly upset, but seriously bugged. And I have no idea why. I guess because I'm pissed that everyone ON THE PLANET seems to be able to find at least people who are interested in them. I have a cell phone bill and fresh C batteries. Because I've never wanted him, him being in a relationship doesn't make him more appealing to me or anything; in fact, in a trying-to-not-be-so-self-involved way, I'm really happy for him. I may be awkward in love, but this guy made me look like Casanova. So good for him.

But blah blah blah WHAT ABOUT ME?

Whatever. I'm just going to have to take my chasitity medicine and deal with it. I work too much. I have too many other activities going on. I'm still hung up on unhealthy patterns. I have a hard time giving myself enough credit. Blah blah blah I need more personal growth until I can be with someone blah blah blah--I just want someone to catch me at the end of my crazy days and put me back in my charger and run his hand over my lower back, which is sore from whatever the hell it is I do to it.

And rinse. And repeat.

But it's apparently not for me. At least not yet. And patience has never been one of my finer qualities. I think I just need a really good replication of a man to curl up with at the end of the day. Though, now that I think about it, any man I've been with turned out to just be a replication of a man, not a real one anyway. The Cheap Imititation Rolex of Relationships and Maturity. I guess step 1 is that if I want to find something authentic, I gotta stop shopping in Chinatown.

I go a long way
To bury the past for I don't want to pay
Oh, how I wish this
To turn back the clock and do over again
Now I'm just wondering if you'd come along
Hold up my head when my head won't hold on
I'll do the same if the same's what you want
But if not I'll go
I will go alone

-Dave Matthews Band