Writing a journal entry from Quiet Storm ... how sad am I?
Arrgh ... so I spent the better part of the afternoon online talking to Matt, and wishing he lived less than 13 hours' drive away ... sometime around 4:30 pm I thought I might go and swim, but in the end, I drove to Oakland. I thought I might visit Gregg at Tela Ropa, but in the end, I just made an ass of myself ... sat there in the smoking section, writing in my journal and crying. Gregg asked if I was OK before I left (I mumbled something about having "a bad weekend"), but it was pretty clear that he didn't want to get stuck dealing with an emotionally distraught woman that he barely knows ...
So now I'm back online (although at least I'm out of the house) and back talking to Matt Baya. He thinks maybe I'm overreacting ... that I've had a lot of bad things happen in a very few days, and that nicotine withdrawal is probably making everything feel much more desperate than it really is.
So if anyone out there feels like they can stand being around a slightly crazy, slightly depressed woman who stares and every cigarette longingly, then please give me a call and let's go out to dinner, because I'm feeling really fucking isolated and I could use a serious distraction or two.