The break-up
I have a huge pain threshold, but my boundaries are quite defined.
And that is why I have no idea why people are tap-dancing on my last nerve. Do they not realize what happens when I snap?
So I mentioned I had to ask a friend to stop contacting me. That was Monday. A Facebook message Monday, a Facebook comment Wednesday and a weird text message Friday does not constitute “not contacting” me. Grrr.
This is a person who wouldn’t apologize even if you were about to clamp his widdle wee-wee in a vise. He could have the cookie jar STUCK ON HIS HEAD, and insist that he doesn’t eat sweets.
And yet, I have nothing but apologies and “hope I haven’t disappointed you” and “your friendship is valuable to me” messages.
Yeah, he’s up to something.
Men are so transparent. This one in particular.
And he managed to blame someone else in the whole equation. Which, this is between you and me, bud. I owned up to my end of the deal. I could have blamed someone else, and I chose not to. You, on the other hand, have no right to throw anyone under the bus. Excuses are unbecoming, yo.
I am too annoyed to reply. Because that’s what I do — I tune out and give up. The end. Love, Goddess.
It’s not that I want to kill the friendship. I invested a lot of time and effort into this. And frankly, I’m not mad. Just … done. Whether for now or for good, I’m over it and out of it.
This is the longest break-up I’ve ever had with somebody I wasn’t even with!
Speaking of people who don’t realize the love is gone, I had to explain where I got the UEOEH’s name. It’s Ultra Extra Over Extended Houseguest. She started as the Houseguest. But I add an adjective for every year that she’s underfoot. Who the hell knows what I can add for 2011, but I’m hoping to ship her ass back to Pittsburgh by then.
I couldn’t sleep this morning. I mean, I went to bed early last night and I was up before dawn today. But it was nice. Kadie and I were curled up on the bed, listening to the waves lapping against the dock and enjoying the breeze now that it’s FINALLY cool enough to have the windows open.
I thought about how much I love coastal living, and yet, how much it costs. I don’t want to move inland, even though I’d get more space for less money. I already tried living inland with the UEOEH (back when she was just the OEH), and I’ve since discovered that having salt water within smelling distance helps immensely.
But now that I have a travel itinerary that includes Mexico, Baltimore, Dublin and Paris, I realize that I need money. The dollar ain’t worth shit when you’re buying euros, people.
I don’t need another job. I just need to stop stress-shopping as a way of avoiding coming home. (Oh, what a grammatical nightmare that sentence was — says she who also just corrected a romantic text sent her way!)
Anyway, I like having “international travel” on my list of stress-relievers. I just wish my list of “stressors” were shorter than my cures for them.