MIA

I know I’ve been MIA, but here’s the thing, I don’t really have anything to report.

But, maybe that’s the thing, I should be reporting. Maybe that’s the point.

Boyfriend and I are spending almost every day and night together. (Well, if the day is spent together, then so is the night.) I’m in serious like. First healthy, mature adult relationship I’ve ever been in. Sad that it didn’t happen until I was 35, but at the same time, 35 is better than 36, or never at all.

He and I are able to share, express, say, do, and just be. It’s wonderful. Technically the nine months of intense therapy I received was free. Technically that “free” therapy cost me 50 grand.

It was worth every penny. Without it I wouldn’t be where I am today. I am happy. I am calm. My emotions and rational, my thought process is rational, mature, and it speaks softly.

Much better than screaming and racing thoughts. Much better.

We are comfortable.

It’s wonderful.

I sleep better at his house than in my own.

On the job front: I am (will soon be) working three part time jobs. Things are coming up, but things are also falling through.

I am broke. Broke. I have $24 to last me the next two weeks. Boyfriend lives 25 miles away. So, that money will go into my gas tank. Not because I feel all my money should be going towards gas, but because after bills, gas it my only luxury.

(And the only reason I have $24 is because I made $16.85 from my parents by taking back cans and bottles. Thank god my family drinks a lot.)

So, even though I am poor, have no full-time job prospects, am living at home without the prospect of moving out anytime soon; I am happier and more comfortable and content than I have been in years….years. Probably a decade. And it’s wonderful.

a little bit of this, a little bit of that

Oy. How is it July already?

Well, hopefully you all had a wonderful Fourth. Mine, the typical family hilarity and drunken debauchery: water balloon launcher (which, after many years of use, finally broke this year.) bingo, with prizes, and lots and lots of alcohol. The potato gun did not make an appearance this year.  I did make a shit-ton of jell-o shots, however. I am pretty sure I drank the majority of those shots.

I also drank over two bottles of wine.

I was feeling pretty good.

Oh, and while shooting off water balloons across the street, I broke two windows in the vacant building. Oops.

Everyone was surprised to see me emerge from my room bright and early Sunday morning. Apparently, I may have drank more than I thought I had.

Odd, other than being dehydrated, I felt fine. (old habits.)

Yesterday was so damn gorgeous outside that I went for two walks. Yes, it was a beautiful day, but more importantly, I wanted to walk off the four pounds of alcohol bloat I had gained in one day. Blech.

On the weight loss front: I have lost 11 pounds since arriving back home. I have nine more to go to lose all of the grad school weight gain. Amazing the difference what a decreased stress level can make.

Boyfriend arrives back today (he went home for the holiday and his birthday), we are both super excited about this (that we get to see each other.)  Yay.

Still looking for more permanent work. Still nothing out there. Today with my tutoring appointments, I should have made $32. I will make $12. Yeah, rewarding work, but not the most reliable or best guarantee that the bills will be paid on time. Full-ish time work starts at the end of this month. I am enjoying the reprieve while I have one.

a new sense of calm

I really do not have anything new to report, just felt the need to post something.

Crap, is today Thursday? (check calendar) No. Shew. I did not miss another Inner Dorking. Thank goodness.

Today I am working my old job at FPE, as the desk girl wanted today off. Funny how it all came back to me. My “phone voice” and the overused, well-rehearsed phrases said over and over and over and over again, two years later, and it’s as if I never left.

There’s comfort in being home.

On a romantic front (and I know this is cheesy, but again, ridiculously happy) I am a girlfriend for the first time in over two years. Yep. This Reformed Party Girl was asked to be a girlfriend.

Ahhhhhh. (sigh.)

Basically, I feel that all of the hard-work I put in with therapy is paying off. My guard is down. If I have a thought or a feeling, an emotion, it is being expressed. Walls are crumbling, and it feels really good. I’ve also asked him to tell me if I am shutting down, or if I seem to be putting a wall-up, to call me on it. I’ve spent 34 years doing it wrong; I’m ready to see what it feels like to do something right.

I’ve met all of his friends/co-workers. His family lives out of state. He wants to know when he can meet my family; In about a week. (Last time someone met the family; over 10 years ago.)

In the past three weeks (yes, it has been a short amount of time. However, after spending the night at his place numerous times, last night was the first time we had sex; so, there is no sex haze at work.) (ah, therapy.) (we both wanted to make sure about the other one.) (That he wasn’t an ass and that I wasn’t crazy.) Anyway, in the past three weeks, we have seen each other almost everyday. The only reason it hasn’t been everyday, is because we both agreed we need some perspective. (Ah, maturity.) And every morning when I say goodbye, he asks when he can see me again.

Yeah.

I know.

We are that couple. The one that makes you want to puke, but you secretly envy.

I’ve always wanted to be that couple. To know that it was real. To have the feelings, and not have two of those feelings be drama or trauma.

It’s really, really nice.

And for once, I am not waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m just enjoying the journey and the sleep deprivation.