When It Rains, It Pours

I’m feeling a little bored and depressed today. It must be the weather.
Or that I have incredibly so much to do at work but can’t bring myself to do any of it.
Or that I don’t have any fun plans this weekend.
Or that everybody already seems to be doing the winter hibernation bit cause the incessant phone calls have stopped and people aren’t returning my calls.
Or perhaps it’s the fact that Matt’s mad at me for some unknown reason and hasn’t called me for two weeks, or that John chose Wednesday to rain painful self-realization upon my seemingly perfect self.
What’s worse—lack of reality, or a reality check?

Matt and I have either talked or seen each other everyday for the last six months. Suddenly I haven’t heard from him in two weeks and have gone without an answered text message or phone call. Please take note: Jeanna’s biggest pet peeve is not returning my attempts at contact. I can’t really figure out what I’ve done, but it’s bothering the hell out of me. He’s one of my very best friends, and bottom line, I miss his company. People always think we’re dating—it’s quite the big joke between us—so now perhaps I can joke that we’ve broken up. Except it’s not really that funny.

John and Josh apparently have a common knowledge between the two of them that I’m a “cock block” and a little “territorial” when it comes to them and their floozies. I’m really mad at my mom for passing down this “cock block” gene to me. I had no idea it was something I suffered from, but am now quite embarrassed.
Listen—what I care most about on this earth is the well-being of those who I know and love. My family, my friends, my co-workers. Anyone who touches my life, even for a little bit. This is human nature, no? So I have to admit that I’m a little judgmental when it comes to ¾ of the women they choose to spend their time with. I don’t purposely try to cock block them; I don’t do it because I’m jealous and want them to myself; I do it because I love them and genuinely care about the women they choose to spend their time with. I don’t think either of them realize just how great they are.

And I’m just not a fake girl. I never have been. What you see is what you get. I won’t kiss your ass the first time I see you, tell you how fabulous your shoes are or how beautiful your hair is—that has always made me feel a little uncomfortable when people do that to me. I’ll probably say, “Hi. I’m Jeanna. Nice to meet you.” Nothing over the top, but if you get to know me, I’ll be your friend for life. And no I didn’t give you a dirty look the last time I saw you. You’re mistaken. I’m three quarters Asian.

Argh. I’m human, I make mistakes, but they’ve all seemed to have come raining down this week. I don’t know. Something just doesn’t feel quite right today. And unfortunately, I’m remedying my torrential downpour of doom with retail therapy. Isn’t that always the answer? Well, that and lots of booze coupled with cheap sex. That makes everyone feel better, right?

Currently Feeling: Like an old person in an old folks home when I eat sugar free jello with my lunch everyday.
Currently Wondering: What the fuck I’ll do all weekend.
Currently Loving: My beautiful new redecorating job.