I’m actually pretty pleased with myself. I took melatonin last night, it’s raining, and despite all of that, I still woke up only 33 minutes after my target wake up time.

Still haven’t unpacked my headphones, but I suppose I can listen to music out loud, provided I do it at a respectful volume. People do it all the time… which is why I wear headphones.

I hope people aren’t as judgemental about my taste in music as I am theirs. Or as judgemental about the quality of these speakers, omg.

I wonder what I’ll get done today. There’s a lot in front of me, and the rain will keep me in. The first rainy day in my new apartment.

This post has more of a narrative feel… Like I’m reporting on my life like a giddy 12 year old. The giddy happy 12 year old that I never was. I had several suicide attempts that year. None this year, good.

Surprised that Temptation was already a song tag here.

I’ll pack up several boxes to bring down to the basement – a roiling bubble underneath my collarbones, like a fine, fine painful fizz wells up as I realize that I still have to break up with the boy. The burning right under my shoulders is a thunder cloud, a hot shot of adrenaline shoots down my core.

I’m talking to a writer on Tinder right now – I wonder what he’d think of this. Why would I even go to Tinder before I go back to work.

Wtf happened to my brain when I was under anesthesia?

Where are my headphones?

OK, rule, since I’m in a forward thinking mood today – I get a bubble feeling in my belly followed by warmth in my groin, it sounds like sexual excitement, and maybe it is, I guess it would make sense that I would feel sexual arousal at the thought of ambition and motivation, and Kool Thing by Sonic Youth is on – I will leave my card off for a while. I will check in periodically on my existing matches.

However, I will not turn on my card until I at least answer my work phone texts. I was hoping that…

I was looking for something. I know this paragraph has a defensive tone, it has a defensive feeling, and that I am being defensive here. My posture is defensive, my shoulders collapse in, and my back curls behind me into a C shape (I wonder if I can gain more confidence in writing by getting a new chair – I do need one, and the boy got one) and my head subtly feels dry, pressed. A drop in my stomach, like my heart is literally sinking, although I know my anatomy and that was never my heart – my rib cage is trying to squish in at the same time my diaphragm is trying to expand into a breath, and there is a negative pressure underneath it in my main organ cavity. The extra strain is felt just under my scapulas. I try to straighten up.

I was looking for something in this boy, in this relationship. My head is throbbing, why is this so painful to say. I don’t know, but I do know that it was unfair to look for it there. I can not replace my ex. He does not love me. He will not love me. None of them have, and honestly, most likely, and I am afraid of this, no one ever will. People just aren’t made like I want them to be. People don’t exist like that.

Wow, even the horrible songs on this playlist have been established as song tags. I don’t want to change it because I’m imagining something magical comes out of letting things happen organically and yes ridiculously enough I feel like the machine prediction of what a random chick wants to listen to while she sappily writes in her diary is organic. Even corporate plans are organic, as we are. Brains are organs.

I just opened up a copy of my Grandmother’s obituary, the one who married a random white racist and is part of the reason I am both incredibly cultured and a complete hick (actually, both of my Grandmothers can share that acclaim and blame equally) and I realize that this is what she must have felt like. Whatever, I lost the best chance I had at ever having anything worthwhile in my life, so fuck it. Where’s a white boy? I need someone to buy me a big house with a porch and several acres of apple orchards so I can sit outside and shoot deer while I myself wait to die.

I never had kids, I should have kept a few from my asshole ex but then he’d never stop calling.

At least in this rain, I can just take a quick walk to the dumpster to throw out the recycling and pretend that my tears are rain. How cliche, it goes with this playlist perfectly.

Why do I have my Grandmother’s obituary open in my web browser? Glad you asked, self. I’m not closing it. I should though, I’ve made fun of my Mother for having 250 tabs open in her browser all the time and I’ve become exactly the same only I know also on top of it run so many different environments on my computer as well, and wanted to open a few VMs.

Why is my coffee cold? I don’t have a microwave yet, I was thinking of getting one of those retro ones and I think I just will. I have plenty of money.

I’m afraid of getting anything nice because if I do, I will have to move, and move it with me. I guess my boyfriend’s point was that that’s not as scary as I’d think, but it truly is a pain in the ass. I have this nagging feeling that it’s not going to work out here, or something is going to happen. And I won’t be here very long. I’m not sure whether this means I should hurry up and set everything up so that I can enjoy it as much as I can <=== I think I like this approach, tbh, it’s novel for me and it is good to try something new since the old way just made me look like a psycho with all of my stuff in boxes and was honestly the reason that I didn’t date anyone else in my 20’s every time my ex left me.

Every time my ex left me, there’s a few stories. Truth be told, he never left me, like a fucking cat in the hat hobo. I had to kick him out every time, for being utterly worthless. I tend to romanticize things, I guess that’s my problem. Honestly, I was looking to the boy to replace a man that never really existed. Who I had hoped my ex to be, but honestly, he never was that.

Just like my side dude, who I always imagined would be there for me through it all, just a little off to the side, but never called. Probably doesn’t give a shit whatsoever, I just never called him on it for 4 (5?) years so I wouldn’t have to know that.

Because I like to see the best in people and won’t let them ruin that for me

A text I wrote to the boy earlier this summer, when I was disappointed in someone else, because apparently, despite the truth of the above statement which is unusually honest for me, I am still disappointed in just about everyone. Myself included, I suppose.

I originally began flicking through Tinder on business trips, not sure what made me leave it on within a 25 mile radius of my house.

I regret it.

I don’t know why my coffee is cold, or why it’s still here. I feel like I’m done for the day, the few tears that I let slip are dried.

And this playlist is starting to suck.