I used to think my life was like a soap opera…

Maybe it’s more like a romantic comedy of errors.  Or maybe like one of those Lifetime movies that you can’t stop watching, no matter how bad the acting is.  Either way, there were some interesting developments in my happenings over the past week or so.

First of all, I had a really crappy week last week.  Not for any reason in particular, I was just in a mood.  I was in this state of melancholy that I just could not escape from.  I really think that had I not had my tattoo appointment Saturday night, I might not have left my home at all over the weekend.  Or gotten out of my pajamas, for that matter.  But anyway, I sent C2 a note last week (I don’t remember what day).  It had been a while since I had talked to him and I wanted to see how he was doing.  He was evidently in a mood as well.  He told me that he was not coming out this weekend and that he was just not happy…but that it wasn’t my fault.  At first, I was just assuming that he believed that this chicken was the kind that thought everything was her fault.  I wasn’t worried at the time, but now, I’m not so sure.  I thought he just wanted to be left alone (some people are like that after all).  I gave him a couple of days, then sent him another message on Friday night…I vented a little…I was feeling low and was wishing that he was in town…I was missing him.  I got no response.  At all.  All weekend.  In fact, he has been online so little the past week (almost two), that I had to make sure he hadn’t deleted me.  Of course now, I am that girly chicken…”Is he not interested anymore?”, “Did I really actually piss him off and he is not ready to talk about it?”, “Is he mad that I made a comment in my blog about not feeling like I have anything in common with ANYONE?”, “Or is he mad that I talked about sleeping with E?”.  Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  I didn’t think we were at that point in all of this…we haven’t even really had a conversation about “us”.  I guess I just have to feel this one out.  I’ll have to bring it up.  It makes me nervous.  So, basically in the span of two weeks, I went from all kinds of men to no men.

To top things off, work has become a mess of childish, woman drama.  This is why I don’t hang out with girls.  Caddy talk-behind-each-other’s-back shit is ridiculous.  Really.  A manager got let go.  Now everyone is kissing the boss’ ass and throwing other people under the bus to save their jobs.  A little birdie told me that I was next.  There are too many little birdies flying around this place.  Yes, I still associate with that manager who you say fucked you over (or whatever).  I don’t give a crap.  This job is a paycheck.  End of story.  I don’t like to get involved with inter-office drama and I certainly don’t like to kiss ass.  I suppose I’ll have to, though.  Appease the Queen.  Everyone else does.  I need to go back to school and work for myself.
After spending half of last week thinking that I was going to get canned, worrying about whether I had unintentionally hurt C2, and paying bills and all the other crap I need to deal with…I went to my appointment at the shop.  I am so happy I did.  I hung out with the guys, had some beers, got my tattoo, and all was well. Getting the tattoo was interesting.  He had me lay down flat, then said, “Ok, this is not going to work.  You’re too busty.  Can you hold your boobs down?” We then spent about 10-15 minutes figuring out a way I could sit so my boobs wouldn’t be in my chin.  He MacGyvered the chair, then everyone came in to get a peek at my busty-ness (ahem…I mean the tattoo in progress).  I stayed after for a bit and had a great time.  I really do need to make the effort to kick it with them more often…they’re good people and I keep saying I need to make different friends.

I also had to put in a distress call to C3 this weekend.  We don’t see each other, but I care about him, so I check in on him.  He also makes a good listener and voice of reason sometimes.  I was freaked out and he was the only person that could help me.  In all these happenings, I had once again been hit on by a married man.  What is it with me??!!  He blatantly hit on me when we were alone, asking if I wanted to “get together” sometime…that he really wanted to spend time with me.  I was seriously starting to believe that something was wrong with me for attracting men like this.  C3 thinks it’s hilarious (he’s one of the perpetrators).  He says that I project a very “open” personality and that men can tell I like the danger and excitement of the whole situation.  Hmmm. Ok. Obviously, these guys are thinking they can get something from me that their wives aren’t giving them…otherwise they wouldn’t feel the need to stray.  Obviously, I’m so much of a ho-bag that I don’t even recognize my ho-baggy behaviors!  I have yet to get a good answer from C3.  His wife must have been around (lmao).  Maybe I just have no morals.  I am cursed when it comes to men.  They are never just normal…I guess nobody is, though.  Normal doesn’t really exist.  I am just going to say married guy was a little drunk and I was the only person with a vagina around.  We’ll see what the awkwardness level is like next time I see him.  Yes, our paths will cross again.

To top my weekend off, I got the random call from the ex, crying, saying “I love you so much and I always will.”  Sheesh, he’s got issues!  He didn’t even ask to speak to his kids.

That was my bit of interesting nothingness.  We’ll see how interesting my life is without a steady man in it.  Somehow, I think I’ll find some kind of trouble to get into.  I always do.

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