So I just ate guacamole and chips. That's the problem with working at a place where the bosses buy dinner and snacks for people who stay late. There's always food in the common fridge. And me with my need-to-eat-because-what-if-it's-not-there-in-2-hours mentality, I scooped up guac and grabbed some chips, taking them back to my desk in paper cups. We're not allowed food at our desks, but we all do it. That's where the obsession with the drink comes in.
I don't know why I wrote to my old boss this morning. I hated the weasely bastard, but feel like I have to remain in touch in order to keep contacts. Hate is such a strong word (as Gramma would say), but his sexist attitude ("I can't work with a man") and the way he discouraged me from learning anything new ("You won't have time to learn Adobe Illustrator") was poor management. He's like an old boyfriend whose repulsive antics I can't get out of my mind.
Speaking of old boyfriends, I dreamt about an ex right before I woke up this morning. I dreamt he and I and J. were camping. The Ex and I kissed, and he said he wish I didn't have "that" problem (meaning J. and I being engaged). He threw one of my bracelets I was wearing into the air. He asked me to wear another bracelet (somehow the one he threw in the air returned to my wrist) because I am "two guys' girl." That's when I woke up.
(God, that guac is leaving an aftertaste. So fucking onion-y.)
Book of the Day: Anything featuring the character, Bridget Jones.
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In the shower, I thought of the reasons we broke up and how J. is much better than the Ex. In my sleepiness, I was convincing myself that being without the Ex is the right decision. When I kissed J. goodbye this morning, I remembered leaning on his arm last night while watching "Toy Story 2," feeling how warm and solid and secure it is and has always been. He does not let me down.
