My imaginary girlfriend rescheduled.
Friday, 09.08.2017 - 11:30 pm.

That poor out-of-luck region of the world in which I was born and bred has been hit with a heartless massive deportation threat, hurricanes, and earthquakes/tsunami alerts, all this week. The first point is (or should be!) most pressing for my country in particular, because it targets youth that is, by all effects and purposes, from the US, with the threat of deportation to a country that is simply unknown to them. Unknown and ferociously hostile. Jesus Christ.

That is just in my region. There are so many natural disaster and humanitarian crises going all around the globe. I have this sense of doom and yet, at least for the moment, I'm safe in my little bubble. My family is OK, my friends, too. I'm still having the time of my life with my own little family composed by Andrew and the cats. I feel guilty for having it so easy, but I'm mostly grateful and impatient to find a way to pay this forward somehow.


This week I was meeting with M for coffee. She's a very busy woman and I figured it would take me a while to squeeze myself into her schedule. To my surprise, she replied saying that she was available the next day after work. I did send her a charming message, maybe that helped. 

I got all dolled up that morning. The charity shops had done a lot of good to my image, and my outfit that day was boots, and layered clothing, from a short leather jacket to the pink-blue-purple flannel shirt (haha!), and a long shirt that looks like a skirt from behind. I was kind of smoking hot. Andrew was sick so he stayed in bed that day, and it felt weird having him ask me at what time I was meeting with M, as I checked myself in the mirror. It felt like he was asking me from the sidelines at what time I was meeting with my girlfriend. I mean, that was just my impression. That was not on his mind. I guess. 

M wrote me around noon to tell me she couldn't make it anymore because a meeting had been scheduled in her office. I was unbearably disappointed, slightly heartbroken, even angry for being all dressed up with nowhere to go. That feels a lot like the story of my life; I may be overgeneralizing but that feeling of looking great but being alone is very familiar to me, from the days when Joseph dumped me*. Hell, I know Andrew appreciated it, he mostly always does, bless him. But for my hungry ego that is not enough, certainly not that day in which I had different expectations. 

*I think I've dreamed of him a couple of times these months. In these dreams, he's my boyfriend again and it shows. All this story arc he and I had in my dreams, from keeping him hidden in my closet to not speaking to each other, and now I have him as another of my dream boytoys. Like he's finally been labeled as non-threatening and assimilated by my unconscious.

Anyway, M and I rescheduled and we are meeting on Tuesday for coffee, so I don't know why I'm making a big fuss out of this. Oh, yes, I know why. I looked great. And I wanted to see her.


Small bits:

- I'm getting desperate with my PhD, but I won't go deeper into it, I just wanted to acknowledge its existence. I have to.

- Next weekend, Andrew and I are going to the Netherlands for a concert I don't quite care for. He shouldn't have bought me a ticket but I won't tell him this. He's very excited, and I'm sure it will be an enjoyable experience for me, too. 

- I'm approaching the deadline to submit my AF manuscript to the novel contest. I've found major questions from the plot that I need to answer this week, I'm not sure if I can.

- I'm thinking of leaving Diaryland for good. Never thought I'd see the day in which I felt this way. It's just a thought for now though. I'll elaborate further some other day.

- I'm going to bed. Good night. 

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