Friday, August 28, 2015

i had an overwhelming sense of ickiness

I know I need to post, guys, but things have been really weird!!

I had a work-related breakdown, and decided to give my two weeks' notice and start freelancing and doing transcription full-time. I've done it before, part-time, and was almost at the point in 2012 where I could have quit my then-job to do it, but I was always too afraid. I think it's probably because of the way I was raised. I was always taught that the only way to make a successful living is to do so in the traditional route. But I've always struggled with that. And now it feels like I don't have a choice. I'm sick of spending my weekends in this spiral of shame and panic because I can't handle the thought of going into work on Monday. I can't handle crying and puking blood and shaking and not being able to eat because of work-related anxiety. I'm too old for that shit. I want to actually enjoy my life.

I can't handle being in an office anymore. Almost everything about it is awful to me. I think I've mentioned this a few times before, but I'm not really very career-driven. I've always worked to live, rather than lived to work. I hate how it's become a crime to admit that you're primarily working for a paycheck. Employers want to squeeze everything they can out of their employees' without paying them more, which is why they created a corporate culture--it basically says "look at all we do for you! Do you want to give just a little bit back to us?" And I totally get that some people love their jobs. But I think I'm one of those people who just feels the enjoyment is sucked out of whatever it is that I'm doing once I'm in an office. It just feels like a prison. I'm too much of a hippie fuck to put up with it anymore. So freelancing it is!! My last day at the office is the 11th. I know I'm going to be working harder than I was before at salaried jobs, but I don't even care--knowing that I can be my own boss and set my own hours is totally worth it to me, and I honestly look forward to the challenge. And I don't think I've ever said that before and meant it.

We have also talked a lot about moving. My parents' wedding gift to us was a down payment for a house, when we decide to buy, and after some pretty extensive research and thinking, we settled on Sarasota, FL. So that's a thing happening in the next couple of years. We're going down in December to look at some houses, but probably won't wind up buying anything unless we really fall in love. The plan is to move around the time I turn 29 (ugh!!!), which is 2017.

Next weekend, we're flying out to DC for our belated wedding celebration. I've been looking forward to this forever, I can't believe it's here. It feels like this took longer to happen than our actual wedding.

Sorry I didn't write more. I expect that things will calm down a lot, and I definitely will resume a normal schedule. I know it's disappointing that it won't be happening right away, because a lot of blogs are ending, but I promise I'll be around for quite some time.

What's been new with y'all? Anything good?

Monday, August 10, 2015

is this our punishment for sodomy?

I took last Friday off work so I could make myself go to the DMV and get an Illinois drivers' license. I've been using my DC one for the past year--I really had absolutely no motivation because I don't even have a car anymore, so why the fuck would someone expect me to sacrifice hours of my day sitting in a government facility? I don't know, either. But then my MIL--her name is Karen, most of the time I feel kind of awkward calling her mom--bought us plane tickets for our trip next month, and I had to get a new ID since my license was the last thing to still have my maiden name on it. I don't care what anyone says, changing your name is still kind of a pain in the ass.

It worked out really well since last Thursday was the first GOP debate for the 2016 election. I have a huge lady boner for politics/political science, and it's one of my favorite things to rant about, especially after drinking. In college, my friends and I would watch all the debates live and drink in our dorm rooms. Then, in DC, bars would actually hold events (like drinking games and giveaways and fun stuff) whenever there was a debate on. It was definitely "A Thing" to do in DC,and I got kind of upset when I realized that it wasn't the same here. (A lot of things about Chicago have been upsetting me as of late, to be perfectly honest.)

So before I left work on Thursday, I made little debate bingo cards for myself and J. When I got home, I also made vodka gummy bears because bae had thoughtfully gone to the store and gotten us snacks for the debate (doritos, haribo gummy bears, a little tub of caviar for me, a giant plastic thing of vodka for us to split.) The night was a lot of fun, we didn't drink as much as expected and went to bed feeling pretty okay. I didn't even eat too much candy. A couple of months ago, J told me this horrible story about running into one of his exes on the L, and how he didn't recognize her because she had really put on a lot of weight. And I instantly envisioned myself at our party in September, being hugged by my old friends while they secretly thought about how fat I looked. I kind of freaked out, and decided that I had really let myself go and that I was going to be hot again so people wouldn't have the same kind of thoughts. I know that's probably pretty bad, but I don't care. Anyway, I have to fit into this dress again by October for a wedding, and I only have maybe 10-15lbs to go at this point, so it shouldn't be an issue. (I'm so mad that dress is on sale now... grr.) I want my thigh gap back, and once that happens, I'll just call it done and try not to pig out too much in the future.

I spent 4 hours at the DMV on Friday and it was such a hassle. I look like shit in my new license picture but I didn't even ask the guy to retake it because I just wanted to leave as soon as I possibly could. Normally I'd make the person working there take 5 or 10 pictures--my DC license was so cute!--but I just didn't have it in me that day. So now I'm stuck with a troll license for years.

When I got home, I was in this really bad mood because of the DMV. J's shift was almost over, and he ran a bath for me while he went out to buy pot. He even left a glass of rosé for me on the edge of the tub! Aw. We wound up watching some of Rob Zombie's horror flicks and drinking a lot. Like, way more than usual. I think we were each taking a shot every ten minutes or so. When I got up to pee, I was staggering and he started giggling at me and that just made me giggle and then I fell over in a heap on the floor, laughing. 

"Baby, come on, let's go to bed. I want to snuggle," he half-slurred at me, attempting to climb off the couch and winding up in a pile with me on the floor. 

"I hurt my butt," I whined, trying to roll over into a sitting position. The walls and furniture were moving around, including the coffee table, which seemed to be shifting away and evading my feeble attempts to grab it. Whoa. 

"I'll kiss it and make it better, come on. Bed!!" J managed to right himself and pulled me up off the floor, half-carrying me into the bedroom. Our bedroom never looks very dark--even in the middle of the night--we live on a main drag with lots of streetlights. Somehow, I still managed to trip over the bed and plant facedown in the pillows. J used one hand to yank my panties down to my knees and the other to pull my shirt up, but not off. He rolled me over and started biting and kissing at my nipples and pushing his fingers between my legs. 

"You're being really rough," I half-moaned into the pillows. "I like it," 

He climbed up beside me, suddenly naked, and turned so his dick would be right in my face. I leaned over and started giving him head, and he lay back down so we could 69. We never do that! I was kind of shocked. 

We wound up having anal, which we do pretty often, but he didn't really do an awesome job of warming me up beforehand and I remember it hurting a bit.

On Saturday, we slept in. When I woke up, J reminded me that we were meeting his mom at Market Days, a street festival happening a block or two away from our apt. I hadn't washed my hair in maybe 4 days, so I went to turn on the shower only to discover that we had no hot water.

"Bae!" I yelled, naked and dripping wet and freezing, "there's no hot water!!" He eyed me sympathetically, and came over to the bathroom. "Is this our punishment for sodomy?" I asked, teeth chattering.

"I'll call maintenance," he kissed me on the temple and trotted off to grab his phone. If I hadn't been covered in lube from the waist down and didn't have such an oily scalp, I would have waited, but I made myself get in the shower anyway and it was miserable. These are basically the worst things that happen to me on the weekends now. My life got so tame, so fast.

Market Days was really fun, I drank a bunch of frozen alcohol in a pineapple and split tacos with Karen. I also checked my phone and realized that the night before, I'd been texting with our old roommate, Doug. I had texted that I missed him and that he should come over to watch movies with us at like 3am, which he declined, but he did invite us to his birthday party at Logan Arcade that night. Even my drunk texts are benevolent now. I used to text people (coughPatrickandsometimesDavidcough) awful things about missing them or about how much they sucked but not anymore, I guess. Funny how that no longer seems like a good idea to me.

"We should go!" I chirped, waving my phone in J's face. He looked doubtful.

"You want to?" he said skeptically. "It's in Logan Square," he added, clearly waiting for me to suddenly change my mind. He knows I hate Wicker Park & Logan Square.

"Yeah!! It'll be fun, I miss Doug," and I was totally being honest, too. It did sound fun. Besides, we've almost never gone out to a bar on a Saturday night before. And maybe we would make new friends. Or knowing us, stand there in the corner glaring at people.

"Okay," he shrugged. "If you think it's a good idea,"

I kissed his cheek. "Yes, for sure. I love you." He twined his fingers through mine and rested his head on my shoulder.

When we got home from the street festival, it was still early afternoon so we decided to sit outside on our deck and drink and read for a while. Then I got too hot, so we went inside to watch a movie. I decided that it would be a good idea for us to take a nap so we'd be refreshed for the party that night, and we snuggled up together and put on our matching sleep masks ("we're like The Professor and His Wife from Gilligan's Island) and fell asleep. I set an alarm for 8.

Instead, we woke up at 11:21pm. Shit.

"Baby," I said, loudly enough to wake J up. "It's 11. We overslept. Fuck!"

"Oh well," said J, spreading his arms so I would come closer. "Come and snuggle with your hubby," he said in this Dracula voice. I giggled, and rolled against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his armpit, completely relaxed. I love him so much.

"I'm kinda sad we missed the thing," I said, muffled by his chest. He shifted onto his back and I wrapped myself around one of his legs.

"Eh, I'm not, I didn't really want to go. We'll hang out with him sometime this week," J stroked my hair and ran his hands down my back, making me shiver.

"I know, but we like, never go out. I was kind of looking forward to it," I absentmindedly ran my hands through his chest hair, tapping my fingers along with his heartbeat.

"We can go out if you'd like, princess. Just pick something and we'll do it,"

"Okay, well, we should definitely go to the next party that we're invited to. We should be more social," I mused, pulling myself up. I looked down at J, and he nodded. It still felt kind of weird, though. I can't believe how fucking antisocial we are. And he used to be such a textbook extrovert!

We wound up hauling ourselves out of bed and finishing our Rob Zombie horror marathon, which took until 5am and most of a handle of vodka. And yesterday, we both had the hangovers of a lifetime. We totally deserved it, but still, ouch. I think that's the drunkest weekend I've had in... quite a while.

I don't know if it's just summer doldrums or whatever, but I'm fucking dying to go on vacation. We have two trips coming up in the next couple of months, and I'm so anxious for them. Except not really because I'm not done losing weight.