don't FIX me when I'm not BROKEN
So I need to work out and read more and write more and sleep less and eat better and smile wider and dust in the corners and drink bottled water.
I know these things.
Yet when expressing my frustration to the Man he says, "if it bothers you that bad you SHOULD..."
As if I don't know what I SHOULD.
Why is it that men don't understand SYMPATHY?
Is it so difficult to say something along the lines of, "I know how you feel; I've been there before. Hang in there."
I just wanted to feel not *alone* in my frustration instead of like a retarded child who can't put a shirt on right-side-up.
The good thing is we got off the phone before I could say something to him like, "see, it's not so easy to make me feel better when you can't just KISS-AND-MAKE-IT-BETTER, is it? Now you have to really try to connect with me, don't you?"
That would have just been mean but that's what I was thinking.
So I went out where the cool townies are and heard some rock'n'roll and it made the frustration dissipate, and the morning helps, too.
Tomorrow !!! is playing here for eight bucks and then I can dance and that will realy make me feel good.
Today I deposit a check from grandmother and soon I will buy a plane ticket to South Carolina. I've only passed through that state, but Mike swears the coast is as gorgeous as what I'm used to in Florida and Georgia. We'll spend fifteen days together then, and I'm looking forward to it.
But coming in close second is me looking forward to going to Chicago for the Fourth to see John'n'Jeremy and catch Iron and Wine as well.
It's nice to know that I haven't changed so much that good music doesn't still doctor my frustration.
I still want to be a professor and a writer and a mama when I grow up.
I'm just paranoid that I won't even be able to finish a Masters degree... but that's just silly, right?
