the funniest things

In the middle of the night, the things that seem to garner the most amusement for me? Are the lies. Not that I can generally tell for certain whether or not I've been lied to on any given subject lately. Which is, in large part, why I cut so many things down to the bone. It narrowed the field, and made things a lot easier on the "who did what to whom" scenarios.

But as things stand right now:

I'm fairly sure, by process of elimination and the extreme lengths to which people went to try and assure me of what wasn't going on, that I was right in my original summation of various events. They seem to actually have amped up and culminated quite a lot faster than I'd've thought. Oh, the comedic irony. It's the downside of "he doth protest too much".

I am no longer speaking to probably 90% of the people I knew. I now have "acquaintances". I probably always did, and because I kept trying to maintain friendships, instead of accepting the reality of life, and wanting to have people treat me with the courtesy I showed them, I ended up with not really wanting to keep anyone in my life. I'm sure I will allow a few people loosely back in, though not as close friends. My trust and comfort level will never return, and I choose to maintain that. For my sanity and for my personal emotional health. I won't again let myself be placed where I was at the beginning of October.

I've come to the conclusion that October 3rd is just a shitty day for me now.

I gave it two weeks, to see if anyone would come wandering out of the woodwork. To see if anyone would notice my absence from their lives, show concern for my well-being, without needing to be given a set of directions on how to be a friend. Two weeks, to see if anyone cared enough to be here.

The sad truth is that, no, no one cared. Nobody noticed, and nothing will remain now as it once was. I had vaguely hoped I mattered still, and that hurt will remain for a while. But the wound is slowly scabbing over, and the day-to-day chore of living my life is blunting the blow of loss.

Moving on:

Sissa's peeved with me, cuz I had to ask for my sewing machine back. I didn't have a choice! I keep shrinking out of my clothes, and my only practical solution is get back my machine and the fabric that's in Bakersfield, so I can start making smaller clothes. I certainly can't keep buying smaller ones, not with the ton of fabric and a sewing machine that I am skilled enough to use sitting down there. And it sucks, but at this juncture, I'm kind of out of other practical options. Patterns are cheaper than manufactured clothes. And I don't mean to make anyone mad, or upset. I just can't keep spending money on clothes, and it sucks all the way around.

Jeremiah called, and he's exhausted, and stressed out over money. He's been working for 10+ hours today, and it's been like that for the whole damned week. Moving 70 lbs boxes sucks, and while it's a paycheck, and all that happy horseshit, and yes, bills to be paid, I get it. It still sucks. Getting no sleep, and working crap hours, and still barely paying the bills blows. Been there, done that. Well, minus the lugging heavy ass boxes part. I couldn't do that if I had to. I should be grateful. I am grateful, actually. But it still sucks when he calls and he's that exhausted, and all I can do is say be careful, and hope he'll get some sleep before he starts all over again tomorrow.