Anxious, anxious, anxious…
For the first time since moving home with my parents, I’m anxious… about money, about romance, about my responsibilities to clients, about that class I’m teaching with Hollis. Bleh! I’m always impatiently tapping my stupid toe, waiting on shit to happen, and when it does, I’m like, “OH NO! WAIT WAIT WAIT!”
I’m not ready. I mean, I don’t feel ready.
Christmas is literally going to be here after I blink. I’ve pinned my eyelids open in hopes that it’ll keep it from bum-rushing me. I’ve done a little bit of shopping, but not really much at all (read: I’ve spent $20 so far, lol). And right now? I’ve got like $15 in my checking account until I get paid on Friday. Buhhhh. And my phone keeps ringing with the final balances from my utilities from the old apartment and I’m just… buhhh. Buhhh! That’s the perfect word.
I dropped the ball recently with a good friend… Mixing business with friendships never seems like a bad idea until it goes wrong, most especially when I’m the one that fucks it up. He asked me to barter a writing project in exchange for (what he does for work, I’m trying to keep it anon here). What he was offering wasn’t something I really NEEDED, but I thought it was something I WANTED. And we talked about it in September but then October was slammed, literally every single weekend I was committed to doing something — then I moved… Which was a landslide. And I realize I’m making excuses. It’s not like he was asking me rewire lamps or clean his air ducts — this is my work. Writing comes naturally to me. It shouldn’t be hard. But… for reasons really unknown to me, I couldn’t get it done. It wasn’t in the forefront of my mind and I just… I just dropped the ball. I’m hoping it doesn’t tarnish our friendship. It’s a really stupid thing I’ve done here and I’ve apologized, but I’m just… Buhhh again. Again with the buhhh-ing.
And re: the class with Hollis… DUDE, I know it’s going to be awesome. I know it’s going to be fun. I’m going to funnel some of my know-how into the brains of everyone in attendance. I know that. But I’m doing that Jami-thing where I get really excited about something and then… Totally freak out. Hollis says, “Just treat it like it’s a party of your friends and you’re teaching them something you know that they don’t.” Which is fine… It’s all fine! Buhhh gaaahhhh! I’m having the beginnings of that sinking stomach feeling I had when I did Write Club. Just panicking and restless worry. I’m driving to work this morning and my brain is just pinging back and forth with Do I have enough material? Fuck, how am I going to deliver my freebie handout thing to Mac people? What do I wear? I shouldn’t drink, right? Not until I’m done with the brunt of the material.
Relax! Tell me! Just shut up, Jami. Just fucking relax, you reject!
And re: the romance… I’m content. I really am. Sous and I have touched back the late night phone conversations a touch (lawd, it was needed. I was missing so much sleep). He was sick all last week, so we decided to nix our plans, fearful that I’d get sick (we all know how fucking miserable I am when I’m sick). We’re supposed to get together this week sometime while I’m up in his area for Thanksgiving at my sister’s… But I keep having these weird stupid flashing panic attacks. Am I really the Queen of Infatuation? So we’ve done the getting-to-know-you conversations. We’ve covered that we’re compatible in terms of chemistry. There’s attraction there. He’s got almost everything that I feel like I’m looking for… but the idea of the next step? I mean, what IS the next step? I’m not really interested in dating anyone else… And the idea of changing my status to “in a relationship” is both enticing and terrifying. I just hope he’s patient… I know that he adores me — as I adore him, too. I do know I’m growing tired of the distance and the phone calls. I do realize that longing for more interaction and being terrified of that increased interaction is… a paradox. But what fun! Dating a fucking nutjob like me, lawd. Y’all pray for him.
For now, I’m just taking deep breaths. It’s just… I’m probably holding my breath… Which is, you know, counter productive for the whole relaxing thing. Buhhhh!