July 4, 2004: Madness
We had a good time this weekend intermingled with insanity that I just don't have the strength to get into now.

Tone says he wants to move back to the city, which of course I do, but not where he wants to. He wants to move down to the little neighborhoods with 7-11s and gang members on every corner. I want to move to Lincoln Park, with bars and college students on every corner. We'll see whenever THAT happens. We are so broke.

The thing is that we SHOULD have a lot of money. I mean, together we probably make about $40,000 a year, which isn't a TON, but for two people living in a modest apartment in Springfield, IL, that's decent. Instead a week before my next paycheck and I'm broke, scraping pennies out of the change jar to buy coffee and gas. It's kind of disturbing and more than a little bit ridiculous that we are so financially irresponsible.

I wish I did live in Chicago. NOt that there is anything wrong with Springfield. I mean, people are nice, we have a nice apartment, we aren't bored (usually). Shit, we even have cable now. It just sucks to be so far away from your friends and the things they are doing. People would be talking about going here, or there, and I'd think, "dammit, stupid fucking boring Springfield".

My mom still won't talk to me. Now, that pisses me off because I didn't do anything wrong enough to merit 3 weeks of silent treatment. I mean, I don't think I did anything wrong, period, but on the presumption that she thinks I did, still, three weeks is a long time to bitchily refuse to speak with your child. I don't know what her problem is.

I'm soooo tired. I hate work. Damn you Legislature! Damn you laws!

Irritation
Speak of the devil. Call the boyfriend and he's a cock on the phone, I have no idea why, I've been at work not even all day, but for two weeks straight, and he's busting my balls. I seriously consider breaking up with him because it is just so goddamn difficult. Can't we have one fucking day where there isn't any drama? Where I don't feel sick to my stomach because I'm afraid he's pissed at me about this or that or something or other? I'm so irritated right now. I just called to see if he could pay the phone bill and instead all it get is a cool, indifferent response. It doesn't make any sense. How can I leave at 8:00 in the morning and have him hating me by 3:30 when he has not see/heard from me since my departure?

I do not want to break up with him, I don't. I love him so much and I see so many good things in him, but Jesus, he is just so much to fucking take. I would like to once feel like I made him actually happy for one whole day. That I didn't do something that just pissed him off for no apparent reason. Sometimes these aren't big things, just minor disagreements, but still, it gets so trying. And now I'm crying at work. Perfect. I just don't know what his problem is and I don't know how to fix anything. I can never make anything better.

And so it begins
I'm so fucking tired and I'm going to have to stay at work until a ridiculous hour because my boss, "the micro-manager," insists we stay here until she "releases" us. Now, this MIGHT make sense if I had ever once had anything to do after the normal working hours, or if I was making as much money as she is making. But, I'm not. I'm making roughly $24,000 a year before taxes. Now, I'm very happy with my paycheck, don't misunderstand me, but I'm not getting paid enough to rationalize working 60 hours a week and putting up with bullshit on top of it.

The thing is that none of my co-workers will SAY anything. Hi, you've worked here twenty-five years, what are you scared of? That she's going to be a BITCH?? That she's going to make your life DIFFICULT?? Well, what's the difference between that and your current situation? I, of course, can't say anything because my job situation is in limbo, and being an intern on the cusp of being hired I'm not going to fuck up my kharma.

It's all just so frustrating to me and it's even more frustrating that no one takes any initiative, but then when someone decides to grab their balls and take a stand, everyone talks shit about them behind their back. Why do they care what someone else does, or what decision they make? We're all grown-ass people here.

Another thing that has been bothering me lately is my boyfriend. Now, why he has to be so fucking difficult I have no idea. The thing that kills me is that one minute he will be fine and then next minute he is sulking around, not talking to me. Now, in that minute I usually haven't even spoken to him, but I get the cold shoulder. He just will never tell me what's wrong. I don't care if he is mad, had a bad day, sad, whatever. But please, I wish he would just TELL me so I can trying to figure out what I did to piss him off.

I've never dated anyone that is always in such emotional turmoil, Jesus. See, my boyfriend and I are incredibly different. I went to a Big 10 University, was in a sorority, went on to get a fairly impressive job and am very afraid of 1. getting caught doing something wrong/illegal and 2. hurting other people's feelings.

My boyfriend on the other hand was formally a semi-psychotic, drug-addict, gang member who ran away from home at 16, essentially, for no other reason than he didn't like rules and he is incredibly self-centered and spoiled. Which is not to say that he isn't a good person, he is hilarious, bright, caring, but can just be a total cock, particularly when he's drinking.

He's a big fan of accusing me of cheating on him, which I never have considered until he started consistently freaking out on me about it and I started consistently being frustrated with the absurdity of the situation. It isn't until these situations that I can see what he used to be like. I'm used to the person I love, that calls me from work just to tell me he loves me, has very definate ideas of what our wedding will consist of and, when he's had just a little too much to drink, quietly confesses to me that he wishes we had a baby . But when he gets mad he looks...derranged. It's really, actually, pretty frightening because he's never hurt me, but he definately has whipped things around the apartment as he screamed in anger about something or other, and I'm such an idiot that I don't think, "hmmm, I could potentially get hurt," no, I think, "God, I hope he doesn't fuck any of my shit up."

I don't mean to make him sound bad. He is one of those people that if my friends were dating him I would say, why the hell are you with him? But I know now why people like the bad guy. Because there is something challenging there. The extremes in the person make things interesting, intriguing and wonderful. Because he cares about me as violently and turbulently as he has ever cared about anything; more so. It's frightening and amazing and as potently addicting as heroin.

Sunday night we had an earthquake. I was sleeping and didn't feel anything, but I woke up at two to go to bed. He said, "Babe, the craziest thing just happened. The bed just started shaking, and then my white shirt just started shaking, and then it stopped." I was like, of course, "whoa that is fucked up," because, obviously that's not a normal occurance. So I said, well, maybe it was an earthquake which he immediately squashes as a possibility because, he in his infinity wisdom and boundless geological knowledge, knows that there "aren't any earthquakes in Illinois." I mean, it's no California, but yes, there are earthquakes in Illinois. Instead his contention was that it was in fact the ghost that haunts our apartment. The apparition finally had enough and became violent. Yes, that is SO much more reasonable than the remote possibility that there was an earthquake.