Damn damn damn.
I almost don't want to go, now. Well, I want to go for Dawn's wedding, but that's all I really want to go for, now. I don't want to spend two weeks away from home. I'm afraid of spending too long with Grandma. I don't want to tire her out, and I don't want to wear myself that thin. It hurts, spending time with her, even on the phone, when she's that disconnected.
What are we going to do about Christmas now?
I'm too tired, I'm not thinking straight.
No, I can't get the tickets changed or refunded. Fuck. Fuck.
I'm tempted to just trash the tickets I got and get new ones, for just a few days. I'm tempted to not go, only that I couldn't do to Dawn. I know I'm acting like a baby. At this hour, I know I don't care. I'm ashamed of it. I want to curl up in the corner and have a good cry. (Oh, guess what week it's about to be?)
votania's gotten more. I tend to be lazy, antisocial, self-centered, greedy, needy, too-easily made angry, obsessive, depressive, overloud, and so forth.
If it were a reasonable time of day, I'd call Darkside and cry. Or avoid calling Darkside, because he sees me cry too much. Anything can set me off today. I behaved myself in public. I was quiet, good, polite, low-key, and decorative. At home, I can be lazy, slobby, self-destructive, and unattractive all I want. I haven't done my laundry yet. My bed is a mess. The dishes are piled up. I did a few this morning, but haven't bothered to put them away yet, nor even seen fully that they be put away. (I
asked that they be put away, but that doesn't count as seeing that they be put away, given who I asked and that person's usual response when I ask them to put away dishes: I get to put them away several hours later.) Still grouchy there. I don't want to be a control freak psycho bitch, and I don't want to nag, but I do want dishes put away in a timely fashion after I do them so that I can do another load, especially when there are a lot of them still in the sink that I haven't done yet...
Dishes. Oy vey.