Friday, September 2, 2005

Waiting is the worst game ever.

So, It's 2:30 ish in the afternoon, Friday prior to a holiday weekend. Normally, I'd be long gone and on the road to Chico. But...I've accomplished damn near nothing. I have a TON to do, but since this is a large organization, I'm stuck with my thumb up my proverbial ass because no one has given me the information I need. So, while everyone else will email me things at 3 pm, then IMMEDIATELY leave for an awesome weekend, I will be here until 6 pm. I am nothing but the organizations bitch. I live to serve.


So, Xtian got a phonecall from work last night informing him that he had to work in Mill Valley again. Which means he needed my truck. As soon as he told me that, I tried to show no emotion. No dice on that. He saw the momentary flicker of "Oh shit, the last time you borrowed my truck you almost killed yourself and it. " Now, I trust him, but I so hate other people even sitting in the drivers' seat of my truck. And up until Tuesday, no one had ever even come close to hurting my truck. The distaste for lending out my truck has only grown. Especially since I'm also the one who buys the gas for the truck, pays the insurance on the truck, and is still making payments on the truck itself. But, I would never say anything about this, because I vaguely mentioned that money was stressing me out a little, and I watched the guilt and shame wash over his face.

He moved to Oakland on blind faith. He didn't have a job until last week. Of course he has no money. I know he is terribly awkward about taking my money. But, it's the way things are, so I'm just trying to absorb all the stress and not share it with him. This only works for so long.

But at least he loves me. And is nice to me. And does everything in his power to make me happy. Hell, the fact that he's still here is a testament to his fabulosity.

My phone rang at 1 am the other night. I was so out cold that it took me 3 rings to figure out what that sound was. By the time I got to the phone, they had hung up. I looked at the Caller-ID, it said "Prison." I thought that was rather strange and went back to sleep. When I got home from work yesterday, there was a weird message on the machine, so I checked the caller-id log to see who had called, and there was another call from "Prison" at like 1 pm. So, that's kind of odd, but whatever.

The phone rang at 6 this morning. I picked it up, it's a collect call from Alameda County Jail. Umm, I don't do collect calls, but the next time they call, I'm accepting charges just to tell these people to stop calling me.

I initially freaked out, wondering if someone I knew was needing my help. But then realized that anyone who knew me would know that I'm not home at 1 pm, and am asleep at 1 am. So, sorry, normally I might give a rats ass and want to help whoever is clearly trying to call, but fuck that.

So, a friend of mine has volunteered to participate in a study to prove the "They Don't get bigger if you talk to them" theory. A hearty thanks to Jen for giving me the phrase. It's simply fabulous.

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