Tuesday, 11/17/09 - 11:56 pm.
JC and I had a plan for the weekend. We were talking about how we can never finish our conversations, so he said we should go away. I found a place, a cabin to stay overnight, and everything was a go. He said "this is our plan for the weekend", and sent me a link that turned out to be Aerosmith's Crazy (is he fucking thoughtful or what?!). But he called today and the place was full until december 12th. I think we're going then. But I was so excited. I mean, come on.
I talked to him over the phone in the afternoon about this. I was very dissaponted. And I got even more upset when he said psychology students were going to go to the field, to provide psychological first aid to the victims of the storms two weeks ago. I felt upset for two reasons: I should be going there; I won't see him during the weekend.
Here's the thing about the first one: I don't like my job. My days there are long, boring and meaningless, and I spend them doing silly things for other people, like dialing numbers and getting photocopies. But I end up so tired and apathetic that when an opportunity to practice my profession arises, I refuse. I want to have fun, I want to rest. On the other hand, I feel guilty because I should take the opportunity.
About the second one: the perspective of not seeing him during the weekend, for three weeks, just kills me. My days are longer, more boring and more meaningless because I know JC is out there and I want to be with him.
And he's still sorting things out with his exgirlfriend and it's getting ugly. She's very hurt. I know exactly how she feels, but I don't remember being that unfair to Joseph.
Oh, well...it's been an awful day, and it seems there's more of this ahead, but here's what saved it:
The annoying doorbell in reception rang and the guard told me somebody left something for me. I thought it was the lady that brings the snacks for the board of directors meeting (argh, I hate that, I hate it!). I went outside and the guard had a little bag: "that guy from the other day came by. He said he couldn't stay but your mother sends you this".
I opened the bag and there were two small boxes of Nerds, a letter from him emulating an ad from a fictional massage lounge, which he wrote based on all of our in-jokes, and a withered worm-looking leaf that I once used to hit him. I almost cried. That's all you need to know (and that it wasn't my mother who sent it, really).
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