Anxiety

Weight off my chest (back? I’m terrible at metaphors. or maybe they’re idioms. whatever.) –

I can breathe again.

 

[Had nightmares 2 nights in a row before everything was fully resolved.  Which speaks rather loudly to how much anxiety has been in my life because I never dream under normal circumstances.]

Happiness [lack thereof]

Remember the terrible new roommate I talked about earlier?

I suppose I should elaborate a little bit.

I’m not being treated as a human being.  No respect, no dignity, nothing.  She’s loud about what she wants, and completely fails to observe the same basic courtesies for me.

Even most animals operate on a tit-for-tat principle.  Reciprocity.  Don’t bother me, and I won’t bother you.  Don’t be a bitch to me, and I won’t be a bitch to you.  Don’t turn on the lights while I’m trying to sleep because I have a migraine, and I’ll do the same for you.  Don’t walk in on me while I’m undressed and changing, and I’ll do the same for you.  I won’t even mention the hypocrisy – that’s just another layer.

I’ve been cutting her so much slack that she’s been doing all of these things and more, and I haven’t done any of it back, partially out of some misguided sense of not wanting to fight dirty. But mostly because I’m really tired, have been sick for the last almost month, and just need some peace.

I’m not sure how much longer I can stomach this.  At all.

The last time I felt this unhappy, I re-evaluated my life and quit my job.  I can’t quit my roommate.

 

At the very least I’m glad I have friends who care about me and are willing to listen.  Thank you for being in my life – you know who you are.

 

Also, decaf espresso tastes like the real thing and doesn’t make me jittery.  Glory Hallelujah.

Blame

I’m really really unhappy, and I’m not sure if it’s my fault.

New roommate sucks, no lie.  Yet I feel like I’m enabling and thus perpetuating the very behaviors of hers that I find disrespectful or displeasing.

Re: Caffeine

I have recently discovered that drinking things containing 4+ shots of espresso makes me jittery.  But ingesting any amount of caffeine in general still makes me tired.  Tired and jittery is not a great combination.

I have a serious dilemma.  Hear me out, before you laugh too hard.

I am one of those weird people who (buries dead bodies for fun?  plays catch with lab rats?  no.  sorry, do proceed.  I feel rather scatterbrained at the moment.) drink coffee solely because they enjoy the taste.  (Now I am second-guessing my grammar because I don’t remember if I should have used plural or singular in the last clause of that sentence.  Dammit.  Someone help me out here.)  Coffee as a stimulant does nothing for me except spike my pulse dangerously when I have too many of those disgustingly sweet Doubleshot can thingies.  (Yes, I know this from experience.  It was an all-nighter.  Don’t ask.)  But I like my coffee fairly dark roast, and pretty strong – coffee that’s too milky just tastes disgusting and fatty to me.  (Side note: I DO NOT UNDERSTAND PEOPLE WHO ORDER AMERICANOS.  WHY ARE YOU DILUTING PERFECTLY GOOD ESPRESSO TO MAKE IT WEAKER?????  CAN YOU UNCIVILIZED HEATHENS NOT JUST ORDER REGULAR COFFEE?????  YOU ARE INSULTING THE HEAVEN THAT IS ESPRESSO.  FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS BEAUTIFUL AND RIGHT IN THIS WORLD, PLEASE STOP.  (I digress.))  This poses a problem, because I love my quad drinks for tasting like I want them to, but I don’t want to be jittery because being jittery is terrible.

…BUT I HATE WEAK COFFEE…

…

…I think it’s time to try decaf espresso.  I’m going to see what happens the next time I order a quad decaf drink.  I will probably get ugly stares from everyone else in line who thinks I am a raving lunatic for not wanting caffeine in my espresso.  Whatever.  It’s worth a try.

Also, I have yet to make those ridiculous tiny sugary scones I keep buying because I can’t stop eating them.

Oh!  On the topic of ingested substances, one of my friends went to a dinner at her boyfriend’s roommate’s friend’s apartment.  The entire dinner consisted of edibles.  (“I’ve never had a worse hangover in my life,” she claimed afterwards while lying around in bed for a full day afterwards while all of us laughed at her.  Her roommate still thinks it was because she had too much sangria.  ANYWAY, sorry, that was completely unrelated.  Just thought it was too amusing not to include here.)

Failure

The bitter taste of failure is like a chronic poison – it permeates quickly, drenching everything it touches in discontent; it is terribly difficult to flush out and maims but does not kill; it colors the world disgusting[ly]; it feels painful and self-inflicted all at once.

The aftertaste of regret is worse.

Fireworks

On this New Year’s Eve, as I reflect on everything that’s happened in 2013, I wonder if it says something about me that I’ve started to flinch a little bit at the sound of fireworks in the distance because they sound like stray gunshots rather than getting excited as I have in previous years.  It’s funny how deeply and subconsciously I didn’t even realize I was affected by a place I only spent two and a half months in.