Beware the Ides of March.

After two months of not working, going back to work is kind of exhausting. It's been two weeks since I finished training and started actually working, and despite being hired at 25 hours, today was my first day off. (Ok, aside from Sundays, but I still have to get up Sunday mornings despite banks being closed.)

My mom has shingles. I have therefore been in charge of bell choir. I had my directorial debut in church this past Sunday, and I was in charge on Wednesday as well. I'm a pretty good director, if I do say so myself. In addition to directing on Sunday, I also played my three bells and one of mom's. Despite me being incredibly nervous, the song went well, and we got tons of compliments.

I'm doing pretty well at work, too. I'm still new, still learning the ways of things, still getting all the keys and information I need, but it's going well overall. I don't know why they keep having me close when I'm the newest teller, but I'm learning the process for that, too. I dread the day they start having me open in the mornings, though!

I tried to set a date with the charming ginger from the bar, but I have been unsuccessful so far. On the other hand, one of my new coworkers invited me out for drinks on Tuesday (with a couple of other coworkers), came to wings on Wednesday, has tried to hang out with me both nights since, and has been texting me all week. He's sweet, he's funny, he's trying his damnedest to make himself available to me, and yet... and yet I'd rather chase unsuccessfully after the tall ginger.

Realizing this led me to an epiphany of sorts: I'm fucked up.

Ok, I knew that already. Have been for a long time now, actually. But I dug deeper. Turns out, I follow patterns. I have, all my life, been attracted almost exclusively to unavailable men, emotionally or otherwise. The guys I liked in high school? Most of them are gay now. No joke, they are actually actively dating men. When a guy shows actual, potentially lasting interest in me, I balk. I find an excuse, even a valid reason why I shouldn't even give said guy a chance. I have gut feelings, and I follow them. But are these "gut feelings" just me being scared?

Instead, I opt to hunt down the unavailable ones, force them to fall for me, and then worsen my problems when it all just ends in heartbreak. Why do I do this? What does it all mean?

It's not as if I don't want to be in a successful relationship. I'm a huge sap in general, and I love being in love. So why can't I pick a guy who will talk to me openly, love and respect and trust me, send me a random text to let me know he's thinking of me? (This is not to say that I've always picked men who are terrible in every way, obviously; please don't think that's what I mean.)

I agreed to go to lunch with the coworker after work tomorrow; I have the urge to bail. I went home with the ginger from the bar, but I'm terrified at the thought that the coworker might try to, I don't know, hold my hand or something tomorrow. What is wrong with me?

I don't know. I don't have the answers, just the questions.

Some days.

Some days are just so. utterly. depressing.

I feel antsy. Like I don't want to be sitting at my grandma's house eating chicken, not because I don't love her, and not because I don't love chicken and mashed potatoes, but just because I can't bear it. I can't just sit there and eat chicken like everything is awesome. I'm antsy to leave, not because I have anything better or more pressing to do, but because I just can't keep sitting there.

I finished reading a depressing book, so to cheer myself up and shake myself out of the funk I'd read myself into, I turned to the internet. More specifically, to Mark Reads Harry Potter, which generally makes me laugh or at least smile. Except I'm currently to book five in his archives. Harry Potter and Everything Horrible and Angsty. So that's not helping, but I continue to read it.

I've come to realize that weekends are the hardest time. As a flight attendant, I had random days off. And maybe, on a Tuesday night, Eric would have other things going on, and it was a work night for him anyway, and so we wouldn't hang out, no big deal. But anytime I was lucky enough to have a Friday or Saturday off, there was no question about it: Eric and I would be together. Maybe we'd just get Wendy's and then watch a bad movie. Maybe we'd go bowling. Maybe we'd have friends in town. But no matter the plan or lack thereof, we'd be together.

Now I have every weekend off, and no guaranteed plans. No completely adorable boyfriend to brainstorm food options with. No slanty bed to spend the night cuddled up in. No sanctuary in which to escape my own house.

And it sucks. It just fucking sucks.

In general, I can handle being single. I can handle not having plans on a typical Friday night. But the fact that I had this amazing man, and he was torn away from me by a cruel, hidden depression... It's just not fair.

Also, as I came here to vent my uncontrollable angst this evening, I realized it is the sixth. It has been three months exactly. I'm sure I subconsciously realized that earlier, and it's probably the main contributing factor to my mood tonight. I wonder if it excuses the fact that I can't seem to stop eating today. Or the fact that I'm wearing my favorite dress shirt of his. It's so big on me, which is strange, because he was so skinny.


On a completely unrelated note, people google the weirdest things. And sometimes it leads them to my blog. They don't generally linger long, once they realize my ramblings have nothing to do with Joseph Gordon-Levitt's personal life. Ah, if only it did!