Trapped.

Trapped here like rats! Small little rats with no hair and one leg! (Oh yeah. I went there.)


I am trapped. Pretty much every way a person can be trapped... well, without actually being trapped, I suppose. Ready for my, er... trappings?

My roommate hates me.
This is both okay and not okay. I have been where she is, and knowing this, there is nothing I can do to make her happy or make her hate me less. Everything I do, no matter how irrational, is going to drive her insane. Knowing this makes it slightly easier to live in my apartment. The biggest thing is that while I have felt that way before, I can't recall being rude or mean to whoever I felt that way about. It's unnecessary and petty, but I have no fight in me. Mainly because that's just not how I operate, but also just because I have been trying to alleviate stress on the situation for months and I am exhausted. She will never see or know or frankly, care, but I have done all I can do. It's time to part ways, and thankfully that will be soon.

This boyfriend thing.
I started this sentence 4 times because I don't know what to say about it. I like hanging out with the guy, I love his family and his friends and he is very good at being a boyfriend. I don't want to not have those things, but I really don't think I want to date him anymore. I know there is a relatively black and white solution, but I'm lame and he is so very good to me... I just... I have this fear that I am too picky. With each passing day/month/year (oy), I want to think that I'm waiting to not settle. Waiting so that I can have the best life I can have. Having not really found it yet, I am starting to get this gnawing feeling that I'm holding out for some Holy Grail that I will never actually find. And then I'll just be alone and not settling by myself, which isn't any good either. I don't want to settle, but I don't want to be alone forever, either, so where's that breaking point?

My apartment is a warzone.
Remember how my roommate hates me? Well, I don't like being at my apartment. It is such a hostile environment that I would rather be pretty much anywhere else. I'm probably going to put a bunch of potatoes (don't judge me; I eat them every day for lunch, anyhow) in my car and stay at one of my places of employment until bedtime. Then go home and go to sleep. I'll get my laundry and regular life stuff done on Saturdays when she's working, or possibly on Sundays when she's off and out with her friends. That baffles me... if she has friends (which she does), why doesn't she hang out at their place? I can't imagine she likes being at the apartment- but then again, I may just be projecting MY incredible sense of discomfort and hostility onto her and assuming she feels that, too. Anyway, I don't feel welcome in my own dang apartment. That is the point of this one.

I can't talk to anyone.
I know that's not totally true, but, again, who would I normally talk to about my roommate situation being awful and feeling like crap and not wanting to go home? Boyfriend. Or Twitter, or Facebook, but for various reasons, again, little Bloglette, you're basically my only refuge. Thank you, blog-o-whatever, for being here for me to spill my guts to when my head is pounding and I can't think of any other way to try to assuage the ache than to just talk about all the garbage that's bothering me.

Since roommate will move out in June sometime, I believe, hopefully my life will brighten then. I auditioned for Pensacola Opera this past weekend, and while it was a fun trip to get to see my friends, it was a not so good audition since I was still not firing on all vocal cylinders. If they're grading on potential, I might have a vague shot at getting in. I am not optimistic.


So, yeah. A good week....

I did hear this artist and I think I have a new favorite. Sort of in the vein of Hem, Alison Krauss and others. I am too lazy right now to link them.


I Wonder What is Keeping My True Love This Night - Kate Rusby