You drink water, I drink gasoline.
Saturday, 06.14.2014 - 4:39 pm.

I finally got better from the cold. I considered myself healed pretty much last weekend, but I still shamelessly skipped duties on monday and tuesday. However, I had a class on wednesday and my voice was giving in, so perhaps skipping was a good thing.

The semester is coming to an end and that's a relief. But not too much, I only have less than a month to prepare the next one's class, Applied Social Psychology, again from scratch. Also, the last week of july Andrew and I are traveling to my home country to attend a congress and have a small ceremony with family and friends to bless our wedding rings. That's becoming visible in my calendar and I'm starting to get worried about it, although my family is taking care of most things (including the expenses...Brother #2 sent money for the ceremony and whatever else. I appreciate it and it also embarrassess me, he shouldn't have to do that).

Anyway, my thoughts are all over the place. They have been like that all week. I must go see a therapist to clean up my heart a little bit, it feels heavy. For no reason and dozens of tiny reasons. But there is no such thing as "psychological emergency" (psychiatric, yes; psychological, no), so I keep pushing that back. I have other expenses that swallow my monthly budget, and many activities that take up my time. Argh. Excuses, excuses.

I feel like part of that floating desperation I feel comes from not giving myself time to reflect and think and digest everything like I used to. I was very good at that, it's what kept this diary going for long, but then I became an adult, I guess. Then I only write like once a week, if anything, and I have so many things in queue that I can't prioritize and I end up expressing myself half-assedly.

I decided I'm not working this weekend, that's for sure. I do have a lot of things to do but I want to take a break and instead care for my personal stuff. My blogs, my comic strip (dying for months), my written journal. I find it hard to that though: I run out of topics. I just said I had so many things in mind, but they're mostly demons and I've lost the ability to disguise them to present them in public.

Andrew turns 30 years old tomorrow. We went out last night with friends and today we bought stuff (i.e. food) to have a nice weekend shut-in. He's been so moody though. Not because of his birthday, he's burnt-out. He and I don't have a job, we have a few jobs, all in the academic field (and none of them offer benefits nor social security). But he does have a few more jobs and responsibilities than I do, so the semester is coming to an end and he's just exhausted.

It takes a toll on me, seeing him like that, but I don't know what to do about it. I understand very well his exhaustion, I would be, too. Hell, I get tired with less than what he has on his plate. But there he is, in a bad mood and frowning. He usually doesn't take it out on me; he has a couple of times, sometimes he realizes it, sometimes I build up the courage to point it out.

When he's moody and we exchange looks he changes the frowning into a sad face, like saying "sorry, I'm so tired", or "sorry, nothing is going my way today", depends. And sometimes he eventually he puts that into words and we talk it out. Other times it just passes. But again, what can I do while it's happening? I'm still the one who has to endure all those bad vibes for as long as they persist.

It has not stopped raining for...almost a month this week. That seems to affect Andrew's mood, too. This weather is great for me, for everyone with a home, but I think of and see all those stray dogs. It's raining and it's cold and so windy, and there's no place for a dog to find shelter from two of those three things.

These days I've seen a dog around that I could take in, make him pretty and healthy and put him up for adoption. I would take them all in but I live in an apartment and I have little money for vet care. Worse, even if I could take care of many dogs and nurse them back to health, basic people will only adopt cute puppies or dogs that minimally ressemble a breed. Mutts be damned. Fuck people.

Anyway, I haven't taken that dog with me because I'm scared of my money flow this month, and mostly because Andrew is really tired and I don't want to burden him any more. Not necessarily in a material or financial way, I could take care of most issues if I were so inclined. But...I don't know. I feel like when we rescue an animal it affects us both so I need to know that he's on board. We both know we don't need each other's permissions or approval, but we do tend to talk out every major decision we make if it will remotely affect us as a couple.

Aw <3

But I'm sure it won't be long before we run into yet another little soul that we will help. The last kitty we saved was adopted by one of Andrew's coworkers and her family. The little guy has a wonderful life and the family is just crazy about him. There, a happy story I made myself, to cheer me up.

I'll go see OITNB. My goal for today was to write in my public blog and write a Simeon strip for tomorrow. And write in here, yay! Here's hoping the rest of this weekend will be restful for Andrew and productive for me.

P.S.: The title of this entry comes from a song in Jack's White new album. I've been listening to it for days. I got it leaked but I felt guilty (and feared it wasn't the real thing), so I listened to it until after I bought a copy, the day it came out. I love Jack White. What a wonderful record it is.

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