Dear Kay,
I wonder why I still write to you. Maybe because back then you offered me solace, and a place to go when shit got too tough. Maybe because I'm hanging on to that time, because it made me what I am today, because I can't let it go. Because I feel like, as tough as that was, they were my Halcyon days. Because I look back on it and think positive things, despite all the shit that went down. I credit you with that, almost entirely.
Work is boring. I got promoted, discovered they weren't giving me enough money for the trouble and demoted myself. I've been feeling like I'm slipping back into my old ways...I wake up and my jaw aches from clenching it all night, I go home and my head hurts from scowling. My shoulders ache (but not like they used to), my jaw clicks (but not like it used to).
I wonder now, if my meds are even working anymore. But coming off them and onto new ones is so stressful and awful, and I don't have six weeks spare to go through it all...knock myself down and build myself back up again, that I'm staying on them even if they don't work as well. I feel ok (but not like I used to).
Squidge and I are moving out together soon, in like two weeks. I'm so excited. He mentioned last night that he's looking forward to it, because he's never really made a home for himself. He actually said, he's never 'nested' before. That made me smile, and then flash back to the last time i wrote and feel guilty. I knew, of course I knew, that the issue wasn't my wage or the TV or anything like that. It was because he was feeling a bit lost, and a bit unsure, and a bit nonplussed by everything. And I took it too personal, as usual.
Anyway. Work was so boring yesterday I finished all my Christmas shopping, which means that now my budget is like, 100% crap for the new house. For some reason, Squidge is fixated on lamps, and lighting in general. I'm fixated on table settings, and Christmas decorations. Really nice table linen, and cool lamps, and funky rugs and awesome prints on the wall. I should be checking out Etsy, and I would except it eats up my net allowance and I spent it all yesterday on facebooking for 8 hours. Who has a net allowance and work, for fucks sake? What is this...the fucking middle ages?
Anyway. Back to 'work'.
I miss you. I relish the imaginary time we still have together.
--K.
