It is interesting how a seemingly mundane sort of day can totally change to flip my pathetic little existence around.
Forgive me Father for I have sinned, it has been four months since my last daylog confession. What sin? Oh, well that is the sin, Father.
A Portrait of a Normal, Mundane Day
Ah now, with padre out of the way...
I woke up around noon after staying up too late again playing video games and suffering from mild insomnia the night before. I rolled around for awhile until my mother came, half-crazed looking for any ear that is in the house to listen to her difficulties with her inconsiderate friends that are in town. Unable to sleep further I sat up, listened to her troubles and then walked across the room to my computer to check my e-mail.
The network connection to the office was flakey again, so I had to get dressed an drive into the office. I was not in any mood to put any effort into my appearance so I put on the same clothes as yesterday and had my mom do my hair. This is pretty pathetic for a twenty-one year old professional, but somehow I could tell the day did not warrant my putting in any extra effort.
A standard work day, as expected, was to follow. I talked with my co-workers about this an that and twiddled bits around in an effort to be useful. Bugs were found, pay was earned: life was good.
Toward the end of the day, I began to make some telephone calls to see what my friends and family were up to. My dad told me that his friend Randy was in town from Paris and that my brother and I would be getting together with the both of them tomorrow. That sounded good to me, I like Randy. I called my girlfriend after that to find out if she was ready to enact the dinner plans we had made from the night before. She sounded a little under the weather, but not bad, and she told me that she was ready to eat. I gathered my things and hit the road to pick her up.
My Silly Little World Changes Around
I picked her up from a little coffee shop she had been hanging around after going swimming with this little druggy friend of her's. I do not approve of her, she may be nice but she has too many bad habits for my tastes; as one my my mantras is, "Whom you hang around with is who you are."
Precious, as I call my girlfriend, was in a bad mood. She was very snappy, in that female sort of way. And nothing could seem to cheer her up. I tried jokes, telling her I missed her, asking about her problems. In the end, I resolved to be quiet as we went to the restaurant.
The restaurant is one of my favorites. It is called Pane Vino Dolce, a sort of little Italian restaurant/hole in the wall. (Although this is a topic for a whole other node,) Their food ranges from knock-me-on-my-ass awesome to really horrible dog food, depending on the mood of the chef and how wisely you order. It is usually a wonderful time.
Naturally, everything I ordered tasted wonderful, while everything she ordered tasted like the Purina Puppy Chow. There was one bright spot, the bruchetta, but the light aromatic oils did nothing to lift her spirits.
My wine was awesome, her water was just water. My beet salade was to die for, her caesar was salty. My peach reduction balsamic pork cutlet was a masterpiece to behold, her chicken was like eating an aborted fetus. This did not set the stage very well for what was to follow.
She needed to go grocerey shopping. The little Korean market she wanted to go to was closed. We went to Rainbow Foods and shopped in nearly complete silence. I remembered she needed cooking oil. She said she did not, but I insisted and added a regular sized one to the cart. She removed it, and replaced it with the small size: barely enough to fry some hash browns. I thought she was just being controlling.
I helped her carry her food stuffs up to her apartment, and began unpacked them. I was not having a good time, and kissed her on the cheek and said goodbye. She asked me if I had to go, and I told her I did not but I wanted to know what she did with my regular girlfriend. We then started to argue about the days events. I said I did not like how depressed she was, and she told me she did not like me to lecture her.
Later on in the argument, she started to choke up and allude to the reason she was so depressed. I asked her directly and she told me it had to do with me, but she could not tell me now. I told her I had to leave, kissed her again and put on my shoes to leave. She stopped me and told me, she is leaving for California in six-weeks. That is why she purchased the small cooking oil, she knew she did not need more than a couple of days worth.
And that is when this pathetic little day changed all around. We no longer yelled at eachother but cried in eachothers arms. The weepsing went on for hours.
She knew I would never engage in a distance relationship, so this is how it would end in T-minus six weeks. Will it be wierd? It might. But I will not know until I get there.
What I am worried about is losing the momentum I had going during the school year. Even though she had given me lots and lots of problems and frustrations for the duration of our relationship, I really do love her and love what she does for me. I am afraid that I will not want to go back to that cold, desolate University of Minnesota campus without anybody to walk hand in hand with. It took my three years to find her there, does someone else exist? Do I want anybody else?
And while she is gone, will she hang like a ghost in my life? Not really a girlfriend, but this jealous spector that I share my thoughts and feelings with, never to move on? What shall become of us when I visit my father in California? What shall become of us if she visits me in Minnesota?
These are the things that I am worried about.