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DREAM: Some kids up the street are causing trouble. I feel responsible to discipline them. I grab a metal baseball bat and run around the block to catch up with the hoodlums. Throwing my bat in their direction. Sometimes wailing it in their face. My dominance is in place.
Alarm goes off at 10:50 a.m.
Hard Boiled Egg. Cinnamon Oatmeal with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Raisins, and Milk. Strawberry Banana Orange Juice. Zinc (50mg).
All day shift at China Wok.
Snapping the peas. America’s Court with Judge Ross on the television—laughable domestic scenarios. It’s amazing the lengths to which people will justify their behavior and force out false logic to cover up any possible blame.
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Every time I think about the disgusting fact that she’s experienced any kind of sexual ecstasy with another person...another soul...I’m immediately transferred to a certain kind of hell and abandon. But what is always comforting is the fact that her and I have over three years of passionate lovemaking. The count is at least past the 300 mark. None can compete with that kind of tally. I know that I’m her first choice. She would choose me over anybody any day. It’s a good boost to the ego. But I still feel a sting...
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I liked it better when you didn’t affect me...when I wasn’t addicted to you. There’s a lack of purity that I feel can never be obtained. These stains on our history blanket are too obtrusive and all too ugly. I miss the security. I miss the monogamy. What’s going to happen? I’m at a fork in the road. I could give you a chance or turn my back again.
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Downtime at the restaurant. The Steve Wilkos show on TV. It’s ridiculous the situations people get themselves into.
Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Tortilla Chips with Green Salsa and Hummus. Honey Green Tea.
It’s a fairly steady but not too busy night for Chinese food.
Banana. Strawberry Yogurt.
Listening to a lot of old school Christian rap...waiting for it to purify me.
Finally off work.
I head over to Margot’s place in Ocean Trace. She prepared Mushroom Chicken and I brought the Broccoli, Snow Peas, and Rice to match up with it. We enjoy dinner together and watch a bunch of episodes of How I Met Your Mother (2005).
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While hanging out I receive a dreadful text from Tim, a drummer whom I’ve been working out Musicplayer songs with. He says, “Unfortunately I’m going to back out of doing the band. The songs just don’t seem to click with me. I feel really bad because you’re a great dude and musician. I’m very sorry that I wasted your time.” What? Seriously? I made it clear to him to keep in communication with me if he wasn’t feeling it. He put a lot of effort into learning the drums for these songs and now he’s backing out? I guess it’s better now than later when it’s irreversibly inconvenient. I’m not mad at him per say, just disturbed and feeling defeated now. I hate starting from scratch all the time. I feel like every year brings its deconstructions causing me to rebuild. Having to move into new houses, get new jobs, start new projects. I’m utterly sick of it. I just want to run with something and not give up. Unfortunately I live in a world with other people and they are finicky and wavering and changing. THEY keep me down. THEY hold me back from great things.
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Still with Margot on the couch. Her condo has a fresh new look to it—her kind of style—she likes new and nice things. I show her some of the photos from the European tour and share stories. The sight of me with girls in the pictures doesn’t comply with her. I told her nothing happened with anyone over there, but my track record is still in the back of her mind. Despite, we get past it and then I inquire about her make-out scenario with another dude that went down while I was gone. It was unprecedented and unexpected. But it wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be in my head when I first heard about it.
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Sinking into her bed. Snuggling and cuddling. A little cloud nine sex. Then sleep around 2 a.m.
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