All is quiet in Gladystopia.
Squeaky, safe at her AA-evangelist friend's house and/or her baby-daddy's, sends word through Tim that she feels much better. Tim informed me that the AA-friend has promised to buy him a carton of smokes to thank him for taking care of Squeaky. She ought to be sending me a case of Pepsi, if that's the plan; I was just as responsible for her care and feeding, only more! But people look at things the way they want to; and anyway I didn't do it for credit--it's just annoying to see other people getting praised for things they wouldn't be able to do if I wasn't around to help THEM. Whatever, you know? The important thing is that Squeaky's safe and, according to Tim, is trying to get herself together. I'm glad to hear it; nobody deserves the life that girl has had.
Tim and I spent a quiet night at home last night--he brought home some beer, and while I watched "Don't Forget the Lyrics" and "So You Think You Can Dance", Tim fried some pork chops and watched Nicolette's Cardinals whomp the bajeebus out of his Cubs. He and Nicki are going to try the long-distance relationship thing, it seems, which is cool--as I've said, I like Nicki and I think she's good for Tim. Plus, if I lose the house, he says they've talked about it, and he will probably go live downstate with her.
That may happen soon. I haven't been able to get a hold of the lawyer, and the sale date is scheduled for next week. If I lose it, I lose it. If I can, I'll buy it back. If I can't, I'll move to Mom's. It's all fine with me, really, unless you count the actual MOVING part.
The job is AWESOME. I'm developing my little likes and dislikes of people I work with; so far, there are many, MANY more likes than dislikes. Everyone is SO helpful and friendly and there really aren't any snobby or judgemental people. And I haven't even started on the neighborhood--I can't mention which one it is, because every Chicagoan would instantly be able to figure out where I work--but I have found YET ANOTHER Chicago neighborhood in which I would totally love to live, if only I could afford it. In fact, if I lose this house, after a year or two of building up my savings, one of my options would be to rent an apartment in this neighborhood--that's how much I love it.
So--aside from total exhaustion and the side-effects of too much caffeine--I am completely happy. I'm even eating healthier--the cafeteria in my workplace is woefully short on tasty crap food, so I find myself eating things like....fruit. Or....sandwiches. Or....soup. (I did have a burger from one of the local places yesterday, but I'd have to file that under--as the LOLCats would say--Not So Grate, Akshuly. Or possibly even Pleh...Do Not Want.) The commute is kicking my butt, I'll admit--largely because a) it takes about 90 minutes one-way, most of which is spent either walking from point to point or switching buses/trains/etc, and b)the train ride involves passing JP's building twice a day, and all the emotions THAT conjures up--but I'm learning to deal with even that. (Well, most days I am, anyway.) And even the commute seems like a small price to pay for going to such an awesome place daily.
Is it normal for someone not to know what to do with herself because there's no longer anything to complain of? I think I understand now why local news is always so depressing--it's because good news, while it's nice and wonderful and everything, makes for pretty boring stories.
NOT, mind you, that I'm looking for drama; heavens, no. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment