mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary

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So, for all of you people out there with "normal" jobs, happy fourth! To the rest of you, the ones who work nights, happy just-another-fucking-day, chumps. And oh, I am a chump, too, but I am one with a boss who picked the busiest week of the year to go on vacation, so for the next few days I am a morning-working chump. Don't let that fool you, though-- I still put in eleven hours today. Ugh. I am so mind-blowingly frustrated with my whole entire life at the moment. It's like this weird post-period PMS or something-- I am bitchy and sensitive the week AFTER. What the hell, hmmm? So, I work stupid-long hours, I work long weeks, and I come home and do MORE WORK. I work on my relationship, which is bugging my shit currently, and I clean my house, and I cook, and I do the fucking laundry and the grocery shopping, and then I go to bed and sleep for six hours and wake up and do more work. The saying, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy"? True. I am unmotivated and uninspired these days. My entries here, even, are what? A month apart? I can't even muster a tiny little bit of creativity to write in my goddamned journal? My mind is filled with shit like latte recipes and schedules and shopping lists and thirty-minute-meals and in short, I feel a whole lot like a housewife who also works sixty hours a week at a casino filled with slim, gorgeous, manicured women on vacation with their doting, loving boyfriends who actually leave the house and do things with them. I am so irritated with Matt over this--he is under stress (always, perpetually) and has little time or motivation himself. This leads to a couple of issues, which I shall list for you here:
1. He sits in a chair all day at work, and then he comes home and sits in another chair until it is time for bed. He moves occasionally to do things like fetch beverages and reload his bong, but for the most part, he stays in the chair. All. Night.
2. He doesn't understand my concept of "Quality Time." To him, quality time is when we are both in the apartment at once. Quality time is when I am on the couch watching SpongeBob and he is in the bedroom with the door closed playing Rome Total War. To me, quality time means, oh, I don't know, some length of interaction. Maybe sitting in the same room, at least. Some eye contact here and there. Goddamn, can you tell that I'm frustrated?
3. Sex. Lack of. I can't blame this entirely on him, because he is on medication that has been known to diminish the sex drive, but GOOD SWEET LORD. I don't think is extracurricular activities help, either. Of course, I can't push this because it would be totally insensitive and bitchy, not to mention counter-productive, but there is a little switch inside of everybody on the planet that flips to the OFF position after just so much rejection. And my switch is getting close.
I feel so boring and old anymore. I'm too tired to go out after work and too busy to go out on my days off. I want to make things work with Matt but he has such a short memory that he seems to think these problems will go away if he just tries really hard for a day or two. I love him, but I'm not sure I like where we're headed.

4:54 p.m. - 2008-07-04

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