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Friday, April 4, 2008

Love is... taking care of yourself

Sometimes you have to do your business before you can have your fun. Really, it should be no problem. I am a mature, responsible adult. I have things to do at home. I don't NEED to go out on a Friday night when I have to take care of things like taxes, and finally unpacking after my trip to San Francisco. Really, I'll be fine.

I was going to go to karaoke. It would be fun to do some singing and meet some new people that are not associated with Bass, but I've had a cough for almost two weeks. I could feel it coming on when I did the beach bike ride. It was a little bit hard to breathe. But the next day and at the progressive dinner, I was in full swing trying to prevent vocal damage by taking cough medicine. Well, oops, that was part of my social faux pas of drinking wine on top of that and muscle relaxers. Try being a choir teacher when you can barely sing. It sucks.

So tonight I'm going to show myself a little love. I'm going to stay in. I'm going to do all the stuff I should have done. I'm going to finally get that nifty check from Uncle Sam.

The thing is that it almost takes me back to high school. One Friday night I drove to the Christian book store and read through some stuff. The guy at the counter was somewhere near my age--maybe college. He took one look at me and asked:
Guy: What's a pretty girl like you doing alone on a Friday night?
Sav: I don't know. Reading?
Guy: Wow, those boys must be stupid.


It's sort of the same thing. Only, now I'm a mature adult and...on the inside I'm still wondering the same thing. But,I really do have to get these taxes and stuff done. I was a little too messed up emotionally, physically and spiritually after the whole mess with Bass. I'm going to be productive. I'm going to get well. I'm reverse stalking all of the boys because I don't want anymore drama right now.

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At the end of the evening, I accomplished the following:

I made dinner.
I blogged.
I hung clothes.
I contemplated giving away a bunch of my brother's 80s records.
I organized clothes that I plan to return (a little sin of mine)
I tried on some sexy lingerie.
Put up with my parents yelling at me about possibly burning down the house while I was cooking, guilted about not calling my grandmother to thank her for the $50 she gave me, criticized for having had moneythat $50 stolen from my wallet by my students, yelled at by my dad about paying my car insurance (my business) and yelled at some more by my mother (tag team yelling?) about changing the title to the car and being threatened for a law suit for nothing that made any sense and threatened with being thrown out of the house for my "attitude." WTF?

I did not do:
My taxes.
My dishes.
(The pot is in the sink and the bowl I ate from is sitting in my room.)

I was TRYING to do something good for myself. I might just get a hotel for tomorrow night. I wish I was dating someone who had given me a key to their place. Why did I come back home after grad school and New York? I'm saving to buy a condo. I just have to know where I will be working next year. If I have to look for a job, that changes things.

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