Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- oh, just...fuck it. Ok. Breathing in, breathing out. Trying not to freak. Actually, I'm not freaking, not just yet, but I'm hovering around that area where my breathing is a little quick and I need to pee. I hate upheaval, and this promises to be some, whatever direction it goes. Sorry for the cryptic comments. Basically, roommate has just laid on me the fact that her life needs to change, that she can't keep "living like this." She's applied for a supervisor's job in LA, and while she may or may not get it, she's also looking at other options. Most of them involve selling the house and moving. Which means that Bemo's and my tenure here has just grown a stopwatch, and it's started ticking. The frustrating thing is that nobody involved has any idea of how many days are on that stopwatch. If she should get the job in LA, we'd probably have a month to six weeks to get our stuff together and find a new place. If she doesn't, she has to wait for another position to open up - Baltimore, or somewhere. If she got a job at BWI, it would mean a more leisurely exit for us - we'd have more time to plan. And then she may just find a better second job and stay put. It's hard to say. She's already decided that she's been unfair to her dog, and that she needs to start searching for a better home for her, which is fairly accurate. But anyway. I'm starting to blither. I'm terrified. We've got no frigging money - I think I need to look into deferring those student loans for a bit. I know I owe her a lot of money, and that's not fair to her - we were doing so well keeping up, and then Bemo's hours were cut and I let it get behind again, when I shouldn't have. I fucked up big time. I need Bemo to get a real job. We still haven't heard from the furniture warehouse that he's applied to, but he's getting more hours from the temp agency. It's still not cutting it. He needs something steady, and he knows it. He knows it, he fucking knows it. Why can't he do it? Shit, I'm just frustrated beyond belief. I love this man past what any words can describe, and I made my choice to be with him, but it's hard. And when I get in a mood like this, it's difficult for me not to see the sky slowly breaking into pieces, ready to fall on our heads. It will all work out all right. I know it will, somehow. Except I don't know if I really believe that, right now. 8:14 p.m. - 2003-09-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||