Stick house

Today I followed the list again.

I made a small house out of sticks. The List said to do something outside and I decided to bring the outside, inside since it was still raining and I was too depressed to stand outside in the rain and try to think of something to do.

So, I took a small baggy outside and started to collect random twigs. I had random twigs under my bed already but I needed a few more. Why I had twigs under my bed I'll never know. It was probably from the time when I made an acorn tree last year and had to break off a few of the tree branches because the acorns were weighing them down too heavily. Back in the house I found some glue and a piece of cardboard to stand the thing on. I won't detail how I actually built the house. It's too banal and boring for me to even think about. The entire time I was building it, all I could think of was why this stupid step was on the List. Maybe some of the other girls were swimming or doing some sort of exciting outdoors event. I tried to imagine something exciting for myself to do. It was then that the phone sounded and Lilly was on the other end asking me what I was doing. The conversation went about as well and nonsensical as expected.

"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Building a twig house for my fun outside step on the List."
"..."
"...yeah"
"Don't build a fireplace in it..."

And that was that. We chatted for a little longer about work and Halloween. I'll be going to my sister's house to have our lovely family event. This year I'm not too excited about it. I don't really feel in the mood to go over there with everyone and try to have fun. I would really rather be at home eating my small weight in candy. I don't gain weight with food so it's pretty much a free-for-all when it comes to food and me. I would talk more about this but I fear anger might find me here. Anger from other women.

After the house was finished I put it up on my shelf. I took a picture and sent it to Lilly and she called me back laughing. I don't think anyone else who had the list before has done anything to this low level. Trying to ask Lilly about the girls who had done the List before me was about as useless as tits on a boar hog. She will never tell me. On our death beds, she'll pretend she's already gone just so she won't have to tell me their names. It's not like I'm going to look these girls up and ask them about how they got through things.

But I can understand why she doesn't want me to contact them. The List is meant to be personal for every single person who has to use it. All the girls before me did each step in their own way. Asking them how they did their step would rub off on me, probably. It's nice to see someone actually sticking to their guns and not wavering. Also, nice that Lilly is nice enough to protect these girls' privacy. Although seeing the notes each of us have penned in on the sides of the list makes me feel sort of comforted knowing that all of them were at the same point in things...at least on the List.

Today I feel a little more hopeful. About him. I have been praying a little more about it and trying not to fall apart worse than I already have been. But I miss him today. A lot. I wish I was there right now. I wish I was with him. I wish we were together again and things were back to being happy. Today I say again that I'm going to fight. I'll fight to show him that we are meant to be together and I am worth it all. He says thank you for being patient with all this, and I told him he knows why I'm being patient. We are both so patient and it will pay off.

I have to believe that.

More rain

Needless to say the last couple days have been painful. Yesterday I pretty much kept to my bed save for the necessities - eating, drinking, and when nature calls back. I had to drag myself up for those daily tasks. Afterwards I was right back into bed where I looked forward to the day being over with. I didn't look at the list and I didn't even look in the direction of the drawer where I kept it. Lilly called now and again to keep me up to date on things she was doing. I'm not sure why but it helped. Listening to her talk about running red lights and doing laundry was the most exciting part of the day.

I thought I'd be stronger by this point in time. It has been about a month or so since we parted. And I know I have been fighting this and being patient, but I can only rise so high. I can only be so strong and there's a point in time where I have nothing left. I fall apart and just wait for things to slowly build back up again. That's what I'm doing today. The last two days aren't even worth mentioning. Now comes the part where I build myself up again. On the day when I was supposed to be with him, he sent me a short text thanking me for being patient with all this. It made me feel better than I had felt in a long time. He and I don't talk as often now...and I wish that wasn't the case. I only know I need to give him time and I need to be patient. I've always been patient. Especially when it comes to us.

Today I'm going to try and think of something to do. The List calls for me to do something outside today. But, of course, it's pouring down rain today so I can't really do anything as far as the list goes. It's going to be a lazy day, I think. There isn't a lot I have to do and nowhere to go. I may watch some old shows on tv or try and write a little. I'll be so glad when this week is over and I'm back to work so I can keep my mind on something else. I may post later today out of sheer boredom. We'll see.

Buried treasure

Today I dedicated myself to the List. This week is going to be one of the hardest since he and I parted for obvious reasons.

I was supposed to fly up and stay with him for the week. I'd asked off work months in advance for this, bought my plane ticket, and had everything settled. We talked it all over and we were both so excited about it. I was so happy I was going to be in his arms again this week that I just feel...hollow. There's nothing else to say about it. I feel like there's nothing left in my chest or in my head. I'm floating around as the days pass and I'm not sure if I feel like getting up tomorrow or the next day. The entire day today was spent thinking about him. I couldn't not think about him. To know that tomorrow I could be sleeping at his side and listening to him talk about everything? Listen to his laugh and see his beautiful grin. It is slowly killing me. Today has killed me a little more than all the other days. I feel like throwing in the towel for good. All the effort I have been putting in to try and repair myself had gone out the door. I'm back to square one this week and I am weak. If I were a target? I'd be the broad side of a barn.

I didn't wake up until late today. I didn't want to face the day and the pain it had to bring. When I did finally roll myself out of bed, I was a zombie. I didn't talk to anyone or eat anything. Instead I brought some water into my room and tried to think of something else besides him. Seeing his picture pop up on my phone to remind me that I was going to see him was just another swift kick in the gut. My eyes, though raw from crying, were well enough to try and mess around with a little writing. But whatever I wrote made me cry again. So I took to the List. I drowned myself in the lines, the words, the stories I'd experienced before. The weeks of trying were all in single lines on that paper. For one reason or another it was comforting. All the notes myself and the other girls had written down was sort of funny to me. As if it were a private joke we all shared. Lilly hadn't told me the names of these girls out of respect for them, but I took comfort in the fact that they had been exactly where I was. Perhaps even sitting on the floor in tears with the List in front of them trying to figure out what came next.

With nothing left I dove in head first. Taking the next step on the list with blinders on. And the next step meant doing something I didn't normally do. I don't know many people who would actually do something like this. To say that I was hesitant would be an understatement. On paper it read ridiculous. Make a list of things you like about yourself, it said. Things I liked? Well, sitting in your bedroom floor in the fetal position, crying, is now the start of a good list. In fact...it's the start of a bad list. And today I couldn't much think of anything I liked. I wasn't about to ask anyone what they liked about me, either. I do have some pride. Even if it's whittled down into a small sliver by this point in time. Without calling Lilly or asking another member of my family, I decided to give it a try. My embarrassment of trying to come up with things momentarily got my mind off the pain of him.  What did I like about myself? Unlike most girls I'm not really upset about my body. I have a good figure. Naturally thin and athletic without much effort. And I'm fairly cute from what I've ascertained over the years of being told such. Freaky dark blue eyes don't hurt. So I didn't focus on this much. Although...I do like what I have.

I like that I can write well. It's one of the things I like most about myself. That I can write what other people can only think about or see in front of them. I can write it all down and have them think of it all in a more clear manner. I'm a good listener, I guess. I'm the person all my friends in college came to when they needed advice or just to talk to someone. It's a role I enjoyed playing as I'm better at listening to the problem's of other people rather than telling them about my own. After I added these to my list I felt worse for wear. I had two real solid things on my list and I was already stuck? And then the tears came again. Why was something like this so hard to figure out? I don't hate me. I hate the current me, but not me-me. After the crying match I tried to think more about what I liked. My smile is nice. I remember when I walked across the stage during my college graduation I was grinning like crazy and the president of the college told me I had a beautiful smile right before I shook his hand. Funny I remember that now. I'm good at video games? I guess that counts.

And...I'm a catch. I'm not saying this to sound mean or bad. I am loving and supportive. I have a good heart no matter what. I don't get stressed and I am the easiest person to get along with. I wish he would remember that right now. I wish someone would.

All of this on the list did one thing. I felt like me-me for a few minutes after I read all the things I'd added to my good list. Some of them I had to laugh about. They reminded me of college days. Something one of my friends said or an event that happened which showed off my better qualities. Like being a constant DD for half of the campus.

I realized why this step was on the list, then. It was to remind us that we were special in some way. That we all had something we liked about ourselves and we needed to remember that. We needed to realize that while we're sad now, things will get better. We have to keep going forward and we have to remember that all of us, all the girls who had the List before me, have a list of their very own. I think I needed that today. Tomorrow I'm not sure if I'll be able to get back out of bed. I feel weak these past few days. Weak in soul, mind, and body. I've been listening a lot to Jack's Mannequin, the new CD. It keeps me company for now. Tomorrow it will probably be playing all day to keep me company. I just want to sleep the entire day tomorrow. Just skip over it. Because when I think about him - I can't think. I can't breathe. I can't do anything.

I just wish tomorrow was over today.

Why I can't give people advice

People always ask me what I think.

What I think they should do about a job. What I think about the guy they are interested in or dating. What is my opinion about their life in general and where it's headed. I don't know why they do it. Over and over again. I mean, I can understand somewhat why. I tell the truth. About their guys and the relationships they are confused by. Usually when they come to me, it's to hear something they don't want to hear. It leads to a lot of conflicts with my friends and a lot of fights that I force myself to weather. I've been cussed out and nearly punched in the fact by some of my closest friends because they came to me for advice. More importantly - they come to me to hear the truth they already know themselves. And yesterday this is exactly what happened.

This weekend I spend the night at a friends house. Lilly was going on a trip with another of our friends from school and I couldn't go because of work. Which was fine, of course, because Lilly needs time away from her depressed friend. Hell...I need some time away from me. Sadly, that can't really happen unless I'm asleep and dreaming. But this friend has some issues when it comes to dating. She'll date anyone so long as it means she doesn't have to be alone. For example: She once dated a guy from several states away who had a small child and wanted her to pay for court costs to get the child back from its mother. And she was totally fine with that. They had decided that marriage was in the cards for them and they were going to get engaged in December of that year. Of course, she had yet to actually meet him in person. So, when they decided he would fly down to meet her parents, the moment she met him she realized she couldn't stand him. A day later he went to stay with a friend in a nearby town until his flight left the next week.

So now she has found herself in another mess. Another mess which I have to get involved in because I ended up saying the wrong thing after being asked over and over again. I went to her house because I thought I could cheer her up. She had been having trouble with the guy for a few weeks now. A guy she found online and, instead of being good friends and roommates like she said she wanted to be, they started dating and moved in together without really knowing one another or anything about what they wanted from their relationship. I know perfectly well what love is...but she does not. I'm not sure if she ever will truly know it. The sort of love you build you life around. She's never done that before. And as much as I try to talk sense into her, she will never listen until she wants to. Or until she finds her perfect fit. But I tried. I really did try not to say anything. It worked until the next morning.

The background on this was a fight they had the night before. My friend is allergic to smoke, just as I am, and she had no clue her boyfriend was sneaking around and smoking. Which was odd because I had seen him smoking outside with his father during a party she was having. I could have told her but I figured she knew. Well, she caught him outside smoking and he tried to deny it. They fought all night about it because she didn't want their relationship to start out with lies. Moving forward they fought the next night about the same things. Then, when I came over, the fought while I finished my supper and he left in a bad mood. He didn't tell her goodbye. He simply left and she just shrugged it off. I wasn't sure if I should say anything so I didn't. I watched whatever was on tv until we were too tired to stay awake any longer.

I slept until he came home. He arrived at around three-something and apparently she was awake. The next thing I knew is they were arguing. And they argued for the next few hours until it was time for me to wake up and leave for home. I wanted to get out of there sooner than that. I felt horrible being in the next room while they were fighting about everything under the sun. Things that didn't even matter. They both brought up whatever they could think of to yell and fuss about. If I had been able to I would have sneaked out the door and left before they found out I was even gone. But I didn't think that was something a good friend should do. So, I stayed until the next morning. When I came out of the room with my bags I knew I had to face her. She looked tired and I felt bad for her. I knew fighting wasn't so fun. And I tried not to think of him through all of this. We had never fought like that before. We never would, really. We weren't good at fighting. Our arguments were about silly things that ended in laughter and joking for later inside jokes about our own stupidity.

We talked for a few minutes and I told her I should probably be on my way and let her rest. She didn't have a clue I had spend the last few hours trying not to listen to them fight and trying my best to just sleep. And she asked me what I thought. She didn't try to skip around it and she knew I would leave if she didn't. I didn't want to say, either. I didn't want to tell her what I thought. But I was cornered and I didn't want to lie anymore. So I told her. I told her that she should be alone for a year or two. I told her that she needs to stop dating losers just because she is scared of being alone. I told her that the boyfriend she has right now isn't worth her time. I told her that she's going to end up divorced and alone for much longer if she doesn't stop doing what she's doing. I told her that she's being an idiot by just dating anyone she feels like and that she wouldn't know true love if he nailed itself to her door. For years I have been watching her date one loser after another and I couldn't stand by and watch any longer.

Needless to say this is another fight I lost. I left and she's only text me a couple times since. Mostly when she was drunk and those texts made little sense, if any. As with all the other times I know this will go the same route. In a few days she'll realize that I was right about things and we'll talk it out. She kind of already knew what was coming. For weeks I had been avoiding her questions about what I thought.

And now I'm ready for Lilly to come home so I can whine to her about things and she can do the same for me. I'm ready to try and talk to him again in a friendly way. More importantly than this? I'm ready to get back to the list. I hate busy weekends that don't allow me spare time to do so. I've been writing this weekend a lot and when I was trying to focus I was constantly asked to go do things for so and so. Which is fine. I like to help. But when I want to be on here writing and working on my own writing, the List, and trying to keep in contact with old friends it gets kind of weary.

For now I'll just keep my mouth shut and focus on trying to repair the leaky patches of my life. Which seem to be more frequent lately.

Los miserables

I have officially begun writing again.

This isn't so much a statement as it is something to look at. This week I've been working on one of the steps on the List. Lilly told me I should skip a couple steps to get to one I might be most interested in - writing. But, instead of skipping, I did the other two steps just as I had done all the rest. The purpose of the List is to keep my mind on other things and show me activities that are sometimes far outside of my own comfort zone. I didn't want to skip two steps that were meant to get me out of that zone in order to get to one which put me square in my favored spot.

The two steps following were things I didn't really dislike. One was washing and detailing my car. I can count on one hand how many times I've washed my car before. I've washed other people's cars when I worked for charity and college functions, but I never really washed my own car because my dad always took care of it. He's the King of washing cars for one reason or another. He always blacks our tires, cleans the wheels to a shine, and makes the entire car sparkle as if it were new. But he has always taken care of us like that. All of my sisters, too. It wasn't until the older sister got married that she washed her own car.

So, I went to a car wash where you have to wash your own car. I thought going through one of those fancy drive-thru washers would be kind of like cheating on the List. Armed with a bunch of coins and wearing a rain jacket I picked up the scrub brush and put the coins in. I washed the car down first and then the brush started to spew out the washing fluid I was supposed to use. Thankfully I was smart enough to go quickly because before I knew it, more quarters were needed. Another dollar gone and I had to scrub the car a few more minutes before the fresh water came back on again. After about an hour I'd finished a little worse for wear. My hair was wet, clothes, even socks. I had the taste of soap in my mouth and my coat made a squish noise when I got back into the car. When I climbed the stairs to my house an hour later I didn't tell my parents what had happened. Instead, I went into my room, changed clothes, and put a little note beside the list - Do not attempt while wearing nice clothes.

The next step on the list involved throwing away things I hadn't used in years and probably never would use again. Cleaning away the clutter was the step. This was something I hated to do. I have a storage box in my closet that I always put useless things in. And I always think I'm going to use them at some point. I have coupons from years ago, wires to items I threw away or are broken, cords I have no idea what they go to, and books of phone numbers that I never labeled and are probably out of service. I dug around for several hours and soon had a trash bag full of things I didn't need. Need, the key word. I didn't really want to throw all this stuff away. For one reason or another, I always think I'm going to need it in the future. I've seen the hoarder show enough to know that if I don't start throwing things away that I'm going to end up living under about a ton of papers from five years ago and random pieces of electronic items.

And now today. Today I wrote again. I wrote, really wrote, for the first time in a long time. It wasn't just picking up the pen and putting a few good phrases down on a single sheet of paper. I sat down in my closet, the place I often write my best stuff in, and I wrote a long story in there. I miss college and the writing I did there. There was something about that place that made me write like never before. I'd look out my window and an idea would be in my head, worked out, before I found something to write it down on. For all my life I have never been the best at anything. Some people were great at sports or in school. All my friends had major interests that they excelled at. And even now all of my friends have a lot of things they take great pride in being good at. Until I went to college, I never had something like that. It wasn't until one of my professor's took an interest that we found out I had talent with writing. I was a natural in painting pictures with words alone. Writing descriptions, scenes, character development was just something built into my brain. They told me I knew how to describe things that other people couldn't. I wasn't sure exactly what they all meant, but for once I was happy with it. I was happy with writing. It was simple and it took me in. I'm generally an extremely happy and optimistic person. When people see the bad - I tell them the good is hiding in the corner. I always made people laugh during college and had a knack for listening. The journalist in me wanted to sit and listen more than speak. To hear what the other person had to say and how they felt was always so much more exciting. It was a stepping point for a story I wanted to write. Their brains helped me concoct these narratives that usually ended with some great thought. I liked that. It's my passion.

But for so, so long it took another seat. It took a chair in the corner with the good. I didn't write and I never listened. And today, for one reason or another, I listened to a co-worker talk about life back when she was younger. I didn't speak for the time and continued to ask her questions. Each time she tried to break and ask me something about myself, I turned it around to her. It's easy when you have a person who is...human. Who likes to talk about themselves and all aspects of their life. It isn't to say it's a bad thing. They are only human. And human's are sometimes interested in one major thing: themselves. So when you have the mind to ask questions rather then speak - you do. You learn about someone when they talk. The more they talk the more they are likely to say something you'll spin into a good story about a life. You'll build a character from a piece of a life and shape it into a story of your own creation. My mind does, at least.

Today I thought about him. Writing always leaves me to think about him. He was supportive of my career as a writer in a way other people never have been. Not even my parents. Maybe because he was a beautiful writer as well. When he read what I wrote, he didn't say much except a few words I could tell made all the difference. He was proud of me in a sweet way. I always loved that. When my first story was finally picked up and published - he was the proudest of me he's ever been. I sent it to him soon after and it just made me feel such happiness. So much joy. I haven't felt that way since. It could be because I miss him more than anything in the world. I haven't figured it out yet. All I know is that I needed to write a story. After work I sat down and wrote page after page of work I was proud of. The List was part of this. To do something I was proud of. Writing makes me proud. I guess because it's the one thing I am good at. Not just good, but good enough to be praised for. Who doesn't like being praised? More than this - it's something that made him proud. Made us both happy while we were together. Writing is something we bonded over. And I'm going to fight to get back there. Even if I have to write for years about it all.

At least I'll be writing something.

Puppies and New Yorkers

I got back on the horse today. So to speak, at least. On the List horse. It was hard to get started again after being off it for several days. It had been sitting around on my counter for a few days and I knew it was. I looked at it each day before I went off to work and as much as I wanted to do it, I was busy. And maybe I just didn't to think about why I was working on this list. There's always going to be something painful about working on this list. Because the reason is still there. The reason I'm working on this list is always going to be present when I look at its lined face. And that's okay. Mainly because the list gives me something steady in life that I can depend on to keep my mind off other things for a little while.

Today Lilly and I went to a dog park. My assignment for today was to play with some kind of cute animal. I knew no other better animal to play with than a puppy. As a huge fan of animal planet and when they show adorable puppies, I was in the mood to go find some. There's a dog park an hour away from my house so we decided that might be the best place to go find something cute and cuddly to play with. I had checked the list the night before and read the next step. I was excited for the next step. You really can't be unhappy when you're around a puppy. Lilly knew the best stop and since she was the author of this list, I followed her lead.

We arrived at the park with a bag of dog cookies. I wasn't sure whether or not people would let us feed their puppies treats, but Lilly decided it would be a way to ease their burden when strangers came up wanting to pet and snuggle their dogs. The weather was beautiful today so the park was pretty full. A few men stood in the corner with dogs on leashes. All had hands shoved deep in their pockets and sour looks on their faces, hair rumpled and eyes were looking everywhere but on another human's. It was decided that these men had either just gotten dumped or were forced to spend time with their significant others pet. Heading deeper into the park it didn't take very long for us to find some puppies to play with. A group of middle-aged people were in a group together with four brown puppies. With Lilly leading the way we went over to the people and struck up a conversation. We talked about school, why they were in the park - which was to help socialize the animals before they were adopted out - and if they didn't mind us petting the animals. They didn't see the harm and soon I was playing with four lovely puppies while Lilly continued to chat with the people.

They were from up North. New York, they said. And their accents were extremely New York. They said our accents, of course, were very charming. Except at times they couldn't very well understand us. So we talked slower and kept our words to common and not slang. We learned the two men had owned a grocers and the women, their wives, worked in the back room keeping the books and providing customer service to folks. The men had started the store after college as young men and for one reason or another, they said, it was their dream. I must have given a small laugh because Greg, one of the men, shook his finger at me and said, "Some people dream of being president and we had a dream of opening a specialty grocery store." I could understand that, I said. They said the women, Mary and Ruby, were just another pair of shoppers. They came in there each Sunday after church and bought a few items for their afternoon family lunch. Greg and Albert said they'd always spot the two women when they came in. Albert said they were the prettiest girls in the whole shop and that he and Greg waited all week for Sunday to come so they could see those pretty girls come in. After a month of watching them come in and shop, Albert said they decided to seal the deal. "I told Greg we couldn't let them out of the shop without having a date sealed," he said, "because if they stopped shopping at the store, we'd never see them again. So, we got a couple of Coke's out of the cooler in the back and went up to those girls. We thought we were real sly with what we'd come up with to say. We got to the girls and said 'You ladies want a Coke? This cooler in the back doesn't seem to be working right at the moment and we don't want them to go to waste.' After that the dates were as good as ours. Greg and I were real slick men back then." Ruby and Mary laughed at all this like it was the first time they'd ever heard the story. Ruby shook her head and pointed to Albert, "I saw his face and I thought he was a very nice looking boy. Mary was smitten with Gregory's looks as well. They'd always give us these big grins when we paid for our snacks and we could tell they didn't mind us coming in there. We sure didn't come in there just to buy food!" And all of them laughed with such joy that Lilly and I couldn't help joining in.

They all continued to talk as we played with the puppies. They had moved down to the South to help start an adoption agency for dogs. They only took on as many as they knew they could get homes for. Oddly enough, they said, there hadn't been much of an issue getting their puppies placed in homes. But they also had connections all over the east coast. The puppies they had with there today were Labs. Adorable, brown, and always eager for our puppy treats. We spent hours with both the people and the puppies. I could barely listen because all four of them were gnawing on my arms and trying their best to get the rest of my treats. Eventually the foursome they had to go and Lilly and I thanked them for spending time with two random girls looking for puppies to spend time with. They gave us the name of their website and we promised to check in if we were ever shopping around for a good puppy.

Now I'm home again and ready for tomorrow. I text him for a few minutes today and it was the best part of my week. Sad but true. I have missed talking to him so much that anytime we do get to talk...it is special to. Work and the new system at work is Monday and I'm okay with it. I know the system better than the rest of the women so I'm fine with getting started on it. I wish I could tell him about it. I wish we could talk about the puppies and about the New York people. About my change at the job and things I'm worried about. But I have prayed for patience in everything. And I have never stopped hoping.

Greg and Albert dreamed about opening a small grocery store. To some people that seems like a stupid, boring dream to have. I dream about getting back together with a him eventually. People might say that's a stupid dream to keep as well. But they opened their store and I'm going to be patient. I have nothing but time.

Green goes red

Finally the merger is over. Everything is done and I never have to stay late again to learn a new system or discuss useless, boring regulations with people that I have nothing in common with save for the fact that we all work for the same company. And the last four days have been a total blur of that.

Last week was the last full week of my company being...my company. I had to sit and listen to all these customers talking about their fond memories of the old company. Which, I can understand. The company has been around for awhile and I'm sure some customers have a pretty strong feeling towards it. What I can't understand is why the customers finish their lovely memories with "and now it's all over" as if we're all to blame for their awesome banking memories going down the pot. And it isn't as if I'm truly attached to this company. I work here to progress in my goals at a decent career in a field I actually like. I don't like being a teller. I'm not good with math in the slightest and every singly time I see something to do with percents of anything like that, I totally blank. Plus, I can't sell anything to anyone. It's likely going to be my downfall with this company and as much as that sucks, I'm prepared for it.

But now it's all over with. I went into work this morning at 7 and we finished everything up. When I come in Monday morning I can just do my thing and then leave when it's time to clock out. I don't have to worry about my boss bitching at me because I didn't do something or other to ready my work station for the merger. I'll bet money on the fact that my boss will be in the exact same mood that she was in today. HR will certainly be hearing about the stunt she pulled today by yelling at everyone like we were all infants just because she was tired and stressed. She's a manager. She willingly accepted the position she's in and has been in it for several years. By this definition, she should be able to handle stress better than this. No manager should have the authority to scream at their employees because they are stressed. Especially in front of people who are visiting from other branches in other states. It's embarassing for us and it's embarassing for the company.

Through it all, I have been thinking about him more than ever. Busy hands are good and I'm happy to have had a lot on my mind recently. Especially with how heavily he's been on my mind. I can't stop thinking about him and I can't avoid all the things that make me remember what we had together. The last few days have been pretty painful. Besides all the things I had to do with work, I couldn't stop thinking about him for one reason or another. It comes and goes, I think. I text Lilly the other night and told her to get my mind off him. And so she did. Instead of trying to be stupid and silly...she just talked. About her day, about what she'd been doing, things on tv, shows we both watched. And she didn't stop talking until I was ready to fall asleep. When I woke up I was thinking about him but I didn't hate it. I miss him. I don't hate thinking about him because I still love him. I don't want to think about him sometimes because it upsets me and makes me cry. But, sometimes...I really do like thinking about him. Because he's such a wonderful guy. I am still so proud of everything he's done and how he's pushed his way to where he is. Not many people could do what he did and when we were together I would always praise him to my friends. He liked it. I could always cheer him up with just a few words. He could do the same thing for me. And I really do miss that. Plus a million other things.

Tomorrow I'll be going back to the list. I haven't had much time to work on it these last few days and I also haven't had a chance to write. I hate that. I love being able to write and not having time is like a slow murder to a person like me. And tomorrow I'll have good things to write about. The next step on the list is a pretty exciting one so I'm ready to jump back in. Tonight I'll sleep and try not to think about him or text him. I'll try not to cry and shrug off the all-over pain. If I can't, I just can't. And I'll be sad. Nothing will help that but time.