9.22.2006

Okay. Got It. No really.

Allright. Allright. It's time to be realistic here.

So I was talking to my sister Roxie today, and she was like:

"Omigod! I haven't checked your blog in so long, and usually that's how I know what you're up to!"

That's when I realized: What the hell am I up to?

Okay. Here goes.

1. Sometime in August, a little company called Juicy Couture asked Erica to be the General Manager of thier new store at San Francisco Center.
2. She took the job, and soon after asked me to be her Assistant Manager.
3. Then she asked Jay, Mere, and Erin to come to.
4. Right after I put in my two weeks at LF, Mary called me one night, desperate. "Do you know anyone looking for a studio in the Tenderloin? I need to find someone to sublet my apartment." I took it the next day, even though it's actually in the Tendernob.
5. I went to Seattle. I saw my wives, piked up Davey, and slept with my ex. Oops. For some reason, I got back home and started FREAKING OUT as soon as Davey left.
6. I started work, and the size of the responsibility seemed overwhelming. It just seems so big, you know? So much all at once? That's what she said.
7. Then I transfered all of this freaked-out-ed-ness about moving and my job to having slept with my ex because it seemed like an easier thing to be freaked out about. Sex? Oh, I can handle that. Again, That's what she said.
8. I reserved a van to move my stuff on the 2nd. I bought two plane tickets, one for me and one for Counts, to San Diego on the 17th. I reserved a big ass truck for the 17th to get all of my shit out of my storage unit in SoCal and bring it up to Frannie.
9. Realized I had transfered all of my freaked-out-ed-ness onto my ex. I gave that bullshit up, but then I started having nightmares about getting fired from my job and losing my apartment, so I started freaking out about Woody again to stave off the nightmares. It totally worked, but then I was saying stupid things like: "I don't know, I just miss him, and you know: I miss him. I'm so freakin' wasted you guys. Omigod, I'm so FREAKIN' wasted. I'll just go home with that Jason guy. Jake. What the hell! Whatever! I don't love anybody! Fuck you! Omigod, I love you so much, Mindy."
10. Then my sister calls and she's like: "How are you?" and I was like: "Really good." That was it. I think I kinda snapped out of it.

Well, I'm glad that's over.
That's what she said.
--M

1 comment:

~PhoenixRising said...

Oh yeah, if possible, extend the "Sorry" to Mary. Perhaps explain that your friend was on a 14 day drinking spree, hence the over-excessive phone calls? Yayar.

till later,
Davce