Weekend interruptus

I haven't done any writing in some time.  Snippets, maybe, here and there, but nothing real.  Nothing worth saving or cultivating.

I believe the desire is still with me, to write, but something always seems to be getting in the way.  Mainly my own self, but also time, exhaustion, environment (I can BLOG when Eric is around, but I really haven't been able to do any creative writing...), etc.

So I allow myself to occupy the time by doing other, less challenging things.  I read.  I watch shows.  I play videogames  (these are fun and challenging, but not anywhere near the creative payoff I get from writing.)

Currently i'm re-reading Harry 7 (because the movie got me all jazzed), The Dexter Book (the first one, season one stuff;  I started reading it but had to stop because Aaron wants to read it together, which means we will never get through it.  Gone are the days of leisure that afforded us the luxury of reading an entire book together.  It used to be one of our favorite couple activities, which is why I think we're trying it again, but these days we're both so busy and then tired when we're done being busy that I despair of ever getting through it--and it is quite a short little novel too!)  And also The Sexual Life of Catherine M.  Which is very intriguing, but not work safe.  Maybe I'll make a little book cover for it so I can bring it to work, since it is physically a more manageable size than Potter and since I can no longer continue Dexter on my own.  we'll see.  Or maybe i'll just grab some Margaret Atwood book off the shelf and go with that.

What i should be reading is plays.  childrens plays. playsfor teens.  All that bullshit.  because i am, afterall, incharge of choosing and then producing 3-4 plays this year.  Gag me.  3 for starline and possibly one for aftercare, where I've been tapped to run a drama enrichment seminar beginning in january.  I want to stab my eyes out.

Why am i so completely uninterested in doing this shit anymore?  Maybe because so much children's theatre is shite, maybe, but maybe because my heart just isn't in it anymore.  Maybe I'll write something outrageous and inappropriate for them to perform like on arrested development.  Imagining my nine year olds talking about chlamydia makes me giggle.

I wish so painfully that Aaron and I had never fought this weekend.  I feel like at least two days are completely and irrevocably lost to all that terrible awfulness.  And now i feel unprepared for the next month I have to get through before the holiday break.

This month includes a fucking parents night at starline, which, my friends, is wayyy worse than friends week.  Friends week I get some extra kids to play with, try to make them have a good time and encourage them to join up.  Parents week?  yuck.  It feels like they come in and sit there and judge judge judge everything I do and say.  They are paying a good chunk of change to send their kids there, and they want to know if it is worth it.  grosssssss.    That's soon.  Not this week, but next??  I am so underprepared for that happy horseshit.

And then there's the fact that working these hours makes it nigh, yes nigh, impossible to see friends.  Friends.  Who make life worth slogging through.

I had to cancel a fun evening at my favorite new mexican place because of the bullshit with aaron.  And a fabulous movie date too.  I want those days back.

W.E.

And that thanksgiving??  The most unfulfilling, lame, perfunctory thanksgiving I have ever endured.  I kept regretting the decision to forgo our own veggie thanksgiving.  Regretting it bitterly.  I felt bereft and superfluous and untethered to any sense of family or belonging or purpose.  I don't believe aaron even understands the depth of it. My heart is heavy over it.  It was yet another wasted, useless day.

At least i didn't have to endure that reunion afterall. that was a small blessing. 

Sorry for the grumpy tude this morning.  It was one where i just did not want to get out of bed. pout pout fish.

I'm sure i'll snap out of it and cheer up.  It's just going to be a rough week; I have alot of financial bullshit to sort through (since that got shoved to the back burner due to the fragile state of my entire being this lovely weekend), plus we never had the time\balls\energy to have the big convo with our roomate--so that's still hanging over me, plus I likely won't have time to see Danielle at all for another whole week, plus i need to figure out a way to get my car inspected with no time to get it done, the list of eeyore blues just goes on and on folks.  When I'm in this sort of mood i am intolerable.  Yucky.  Maybe by writing it all down here i will have at least partly exorcised it?

Another thing that needs doing this week:  making an appointment to 'see someone'.  yup.  I wonder where that will fit into the jam-packed schedule that has become my life.

Oh, and does this make me selfish\crazy\unreasonable?  I have not had a moment alone in this house, not a fucking moment, in so long I can't even remember now.  Either Eric or Aaron are always always always here when i'm here.  Obviously I don't mind aaron so much (lol), except for this:  I have not been able to lay down and relax with my vibrator if fucking forever, and even though the sex I've been having have been awesome (it really has been good.  Orgasms, creativity, hawtness, all sorts of good things happening-- plus you can't beat the human connection), sometimes you just want to unwind, lube up, and go to town on your own, right?  Am I the only one?  Well, whatever.  It's the truth.  I want to have a lengthy, healthy, multi-multi0multi-orgasmic session all to myself.  Let my mind wander to all the naughty\lovely\risquee\forbidden\erotic\whatever imagery i want and just float away into oblivion.

Aaron hardly gets more time alone here either, but he gets some, but either way he insists it doesn't bother him so much.  He hasn't masturbated in forever, no alone anyway.  He says it holds no interest for him.  He gets regular and very pleasing sex, so jerking off isn't necessary.  I don't know what it feels like to have a penis and to jerk off, and although I agree that I am sexually satisfied and don't NEED to masturbate... I kinda fucking want to.

TMI.  Way too much.  Thank christ hardly anyone reads this, and this isn't stuff I wouldn't share with you guys anyway ;)

Ok.  Off to work with me.  Feeling slightly better, having got some of that heaviness off my chest.

I need a coffee, a hug, an ear to bend, and a real vacation.  And some time alone with my battery-operated pal.