Posted by: comfortjunkie | August 13, 2008

I do not have gas.

Before you say, Whoa, too much information there, I should clarify. I do not have propane which is what my stove and hot water heater run on. I do not need hot water, not until November at least but for some reason, despite the fact that I have not turned on my stove in weeks, everything I was to eat suddenly needs to be cooked.

In the past two days (since I ran out of propane) I have wanted to make hard-boiled eggs, spaghetti, and steamed vegetables. Sometimes I get as far as filling up the pan with water before I realize that no, I will not be cooking anything until I pay $35 for someone to replace my gas tank. Thanks to the client who paid with an e-check, that won’t be happening for another three days.

Ironic twist: although my diet pills are amphetamines, I’ve been exhausted all day. Shouldn’t I be scrubbing my bathroom tiles with a toothbrush and taking apart my DVD player? Instead, i just want to go to sleep. Maybe it’s the lack of food or my meal replacement shakes (ie: cocktails, heavy on the vodka).

My friend’s came over to ask my caretaker (for that is how I think of her now) if she had any questions about watching my dogs while I was away this weekend. She didn’t so I made cocktails that included vodka, orange liqueur, blackberry puree and lemon-lime juice. It occurred to me around the second one that I had eaten exactly one PB&J today so I was a little ‘relaxed’ to say the least. I’m such a cheap date.

Speaking of dates, I’m seeing the stalker for coffee after pilates tomorrow, you know, when I look my best (sweaty, red-faced, in too-tight gym clothes with no make-up). Awesome. If that doesn’t scare him away then I’ll have to try harder.

Truth be told, the idea of dating is so much more pleasant than actually doing it. I like the idea of having someone to drag around with me to various events and go to the beach with but in practice, it’s far too much work. I will probably have to answer the phone for one thing. I will have to wear something other than my pajamas for another. Going out in public with another human being requires some semblance of decorum that I do not currently possess. It’s all I can do to tone down the muttering to myself.

I was at the grocery store the other day, returning to my car when I noticed that someone had parked really close to me. I probably muttered (or said distinctly and loudly) something like, “next time park a little closer, asshole. Jeeeesus.” As I was pulling out of my parking spot, I noticed that there was real, live human being in the car who probably heard my comment. This marks the beginning of my favorite game, “Did they or didn’t they?” Just like the Mexicans never know how much Spanish I understand, I can never know how much English they understand. Fun, right?

I would be infinitely more interesting if the muttering was to an invisible friend, instead it just makes me sad and lonely, It used to be an occasional comment but partway into my 30 minute monologue, I realized that perhaps this talking to myself thing had gotten out of control. Perhaps I do need a boyfriend if for no other reason than to project my failings as a person onto him. Or maybe the dogs will suffice for that.

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