Weekend Update

I don't think anyone is as adept at doors as they believe themselves to be. We are all deceived at some point.

Today is my last day of sweets. I am far too into sweets as an adult woman. I would keep a Baby Jane drawer of chocolates if I could afford to do so. I can now make those references because I saw Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? last night. It was a very strange film. I would recommend it if you're in a patient mood and would like to watch Bette Davis unhinged and abusive.

I have come to see that every day is charming. Every day is an unmanageable love story. Things start quietly, crescendo toward turmoil and ends harmoniously with sleep. Perhaps this is just the charm of my own life. I am sure there are people who live in a different type of story, but I am pleased today to see that everything is beautiful in it's own way. The love I feel makes every day a love story in the Shakespearean sense which drives toward tragedy.

I love so very much. I love your imperfect smile that's so wonderfully honest. I love the way you make up words when your vocabulary is better than mine and you'd always win at Scrabble. I love the way you cry at all the same parts of children's films. I don't feel as alone in my emotions when I'm with you. Sometimes I'd feel lonelier though. I wonder if that's true in any love story, or just the dysfunctional ones.

My house is back to "I am obviously depressed" levels of unclean. I need to take care of that today.

I am also over memes posted by people that show off how bookish and nerdy they are. I appreciate people having their things, but half the bitches posting these have "read" Twilight or Fifty Shades of Grey and I just can't accept that as actual reading. I assume they've somehow gotten their hands on the novelization of Magic Mike and that's great, but don't tell me you need a Beauty and the Beast level library to hold your copies of it.

I feel if I were a better writer I'd be able to write pages on any of the above. I can only think in snippets. You get a 30 second to 2 minute sketch, but anything longer is too taxing.

I hate Stassney. I have settled into this idea over a few weeks. I tried to push the thought away, but there's really no getting around it. My therapist told me it was fine to be angry with her. She hurt me. She didn't go out of her way to hurt me, she did it casually, as an after thought. It almost would have been better if there were some reason for her to target me specifically, rather than to be a casualty of her self-centered, selfish, self-serving, other negative self-starting words way of living. The only feelings that are important are her own. We all operate this way, to a degree, but most people try to avoid being a hindrance to the happiness of others for years on end. I have realized that we can never be friends. And that's okay. It's okay if my anger has evolved into a constant simmering hatred that will boil off once there is nothing to fuel it. Eventually the water will steam away. My therapist said it's okay that it might not be fair. Feelings don't have to be fair. We don't have to act on them. We can be allowed to feel them, be aware of them, and continue on with what needs to be done for the day. So I will never be fond of Stassney, she's been an inconvenience in the narrative of my life, but not necessarily the antagonist. The antagonist is in my own head, and that's much more important.

I have to clean today.


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