"You can't have people living in a town who say when a fire breaks out, 'Whatever you do, don't call the fire department.'" Steve Martin in Roxanne

I'm in a mood. I spend two hours on IM not counting the phone call I received on wednesday morning (the only morning I get to sleep in during the week, which with my sleeping disorder means a great deal to me, and he calls me three THREE times until I finally answered.) and the visit in my office that afternoon. He asked me if I could go to lunch the next day "so that I won't have to call you tonight." Oh giving me the night off, how magnanimous of you, particularly considering that you prior to this march you never actually called me for any reason period, even when I was walking around looking like a ghost. And today. after all this, even though last night he promised me lunch, today he comes in a shakes my hand and disappears. Just like all my other "patients" they take what they need and go. But like my father, when they leave I experience it as relief, as they are so incredibly needy and I don't have the energy to get myself up in the morning never mind prop up someone else's self esteem or optimism. In a way, he much better off than I am, first because he has a daugher and therefore he has something more important than the romantic relationship, something incredibly rewarding and worthwhile that he has regardless of the romance, also he has his "relgisious" beliefs. I on the other hand, am no longer even an agnostic, so my suffering doesn't even have purpose, unless I give it purpose. And he's online last night with me arguing about how it isn't fair. HE is 42, and he is telling me it isn't fair? Didn't you notice before now? I mean, it's not like injustice, particularly unjust suffering, is particularly well hidden. Not to mention think about who he is saying this to. You want to talk to a 4 foot six disabled girl about unfair? You want me to tell you about my childhood? I don't think so. At least here he had a choice. But he said he would take me to lunch for payment for "services rendered" and is he here? No. Yesterday he came seeking me out in the lab for advice (even though I was hiding in the lab expressly to avoid that particularly situation) and today he is gone. I do my job and then the patient leaves until they get sick again and then I get the phone calls in the night and the two hours IMs.

Feeling better this week. Not depressed like last week, but more enraged. WHen I'm angry I appear to other people to be "in a good mood" which makes me thinks that the anger is at least energizing so I appear to be "up" even when it means I'm "up" to smacking someone else in the face. I will dancing with Edi tonight (my favorite) and then after that I'm heading to our name is mud for adults night (I'm hoping it will be funa nd not all dates-maybe walk in a feel it out first) I'm trying to make an effort to find fun non-bar things to do and meet people. Last week was a failure, but hopefully things will improve. For the first time in two years I picked up the Village Voice last week. Now I know what you are thinking, why the hell did I avoid the Village Voice for two years? Well, I'll tell you. First I avoided it because reading Dan Savage's column Savage Love really depressed me. Here I was abandoned and missing the healthy sex life (the first time ever) I had come to love and I just couldn't read about all these OTHER people having sex, even if it was totally dysfunctional or completely fictional (like the guy who claimed he could have anal sex with himself). On top of that reading Voice had been an activity I had indulge in with Eric. He would check the paper for concerts and I would read the articles, often I read particularly amusing personals allowed ("Simply Vanilla-Woman is a Riddle whose Solution is Pregnancy"). But now I actually the Village Voice so that I can go to art openings and shows and even concerts (although I'm not really a concert person-being as tiny as I am there is a real fear of being crushed or stompled). Is this progress? Is this emergence at last? It seems like I go through stages where it seems like I am "getting better" or recovering, but I don't really believe it.

My therapist tells me that my fears of becoming totally poor and living out of a cardboard box are totally irrational, but I don't know if it is or not. It seems unlike, but it doesn't seem impossible especially considering that I make almost no money and live in a nice apartment. I don't buy anything but food anymore or alcohol. And I only go out one night a week, but still it costs a great deal. As Duff says once you live here, you can't live anywhere else. Where do you move to next? Maybe Scotland. I have decided to apply to graduate school there even though considering what I want to focus on the US is a much better choice (as I would invariably focus on American writers).