Fuck.

I gotta write through this.

I have to.  Or else I am going to sit here listening to Adele songs, and crying till I have a seizure. Or an asthma attack like yesterday.

It's very hard to be a bad guy.  It is very hard to do the necessary thing.  I have been sitting up every night from, about midnight to four, sobbing uncontrollably.  Ugly crying.

Right doesn't mean easy.  Right, in this case, is maybe the hardest thing I've ever had to do.  I keep trying to convince myself that I did the wrong thing and I should take it back.  I did the right thing.  And it is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.  And I am turning myself inside out.  Only in the deep privacy of late night.  I can't find anywhere else to cry.  I never thought I would be crying. alone.  in my room.  The truth does a lot of things.  But it definitely doesn't set you free, not right away anyway.

I thought I recently went through the hardest thing.  That was but a mere dress rehearsal.

I keep telling myself that this is part of the process, and it's healthy.  I made this decision.  I am going to own it.  I do own it.  I need to feel every bit of the pain.  This is not fine.  This is fine.

I think I need to talk to somebody. But I don't have the words.  I don't even have the right person to talk to anymore.

These fucking lyrics.  I can't.  I'm so stupid right now, I am just listening to this song and crying.  So I came here to break the cycle, and I am still crying.

I read that Will Smith and Jada Pinkett are getting divorced after 17 years, and then like an hour later I read that Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale are splitting after like 10 years.   I thought, half jokingly to myself "omg love is dead."



Maybe it is.  I don't even know what else to say.

I am still too exhausted to compose right now.  Today was to be a rest-day, the first one in a very long time, but once again Luiz hears "rest day" and becomes a stage-five clinger.  And, if following me around the house and interrupting my every thought with banal conversation isn't bad enough, he goes and brings up a very very very sore issue. 

I was sitting out in the sun, with a book and a cup of coffee.  He sat down next to me, and started a fight. Like, it couldn't be clearer.  "What's the worst thing I could talk about right now?  What sore spot,  that I can bring up out of the blue will do the most damage?  AHA that's it."  And I stupidly went along, thinking at first he could be mature enough to have a discussion.  But I should know, any time he does this, it's simply because he thinks he's got more to say on it, no matter how I feel.  And if he has more to say, then he's not happy about the resolution.  He brought up the weed fairy painting, because he wants to put it up on his site, and he was testing the waters. He wasn't casually starting a discussion.

When he sat down, I said "today is my 'leave-me-alone' day.  I don't want to talk. I want to relax".  I don't know why I trusted him to even sit.  My first mistake was staying out there, but I made such a nice spot for myself.  I made such a comfortable little space, I had my feet up, a nice cup of coffee, a book that I have been meaning to read for months, and no plans for the day.  Now, I'm sad, shaking, angry, and this day is entirely shot.  I am not relaxing.  I have two hours before Irv comes home, and the next two hours, I will be trying to calm the fuck down, and seething.  Then I have to cook dinner, and take care of the house and Irv.  

I had four fucking hours today.  That's all I asked for.

Damage. Done.

So, I came back inside.  Vented here.  Tackled a bunch of house and work emails. Maybe I'll get lucky tomorrow.  Maybe since I did all the shit right now that I put time aside for tomorrow, maybe tomorrow I'll get my four hours.

I doubt it.

I have been remiss with my daily updates.  I have a lot to talk about, though, but sometimes I get so busy living life I forget to write.

First, here's today's selfie.  It's what I have to work with, dahling.  Looks like it's time to dye my roots.  Also, too hot for makeup today, so it's literally lipstick and mascara.  But, I am channeling my inner diva, with my Latrice Royale shirt.  Gurl's wearing enough makeup for both of us.  I try to take selfies of basic random daily looks, because this is the face I put into the world.  It's not my "game face"  It's just.  Me.

I am off to work, and then to Leah and Chris's house tonight for board games, and nerdyfun.  I will take time to try to encapsulate what this past week was all about later.  It was actually fucking wonderful.  I did so many tarot readings, engaged with so many people, it's hard not to be in THE BEST MOOD EVER.  But there was some hard shit this week too.  It's been weird.  Still feeling good.

I love events.  Today is the big day.  Yesterday  Luiz and I fought all day, but we had a fruitful talk, last night.  I went out for awhile, and during that time, he pulled cards and it helped him gain perspective, and he was ready to not fight.  Thank goodness.  I still didn't get to sleep till 4 am, but, at least I didn't have to get up early.

So, Susan called last night, and offered to come with me.  My client is also friendly with her, and invited her to this book launch.  It's right in Susan's neighborhood in Brookside, she was like "We'll ride together!  You won't need that Google thing!" I love Sue.  Sweeping in like a wine-drunk superhero.  Driving to Queens was giving me fits.  FITS.  Now, I have SueBe!  A hilarious, witty, funny friend, and driving partner.  This is one of those events that's shaping up to be more and more fun.  One of those days where I feel like "holy shit, I'm getting paid for this, I am living the dream."  I am getting paid a lot for this.  Like triple my going rate.  There's something nutty about getting "tipped" 75%

I slept right in, ate some Taco Bell for breakfast, had some quality time with Luiz, we watched a show and cuddled and had sexytimes, and I am just easing into the day nicely.  I am looping Whitney Houston on full blast, and singing all the frogs out of my throat.  After I finish here, I am going to take a huge long, cool spa-bath, where I bust out all the expensive shit and really take care of myself.  The only thing that's making me grumpy now is the fact that is, as ever, 90 degrees F in here, with a soupy 65% humidity.  You could take little bites out of the air, it's so thick.  I might have to take my makeup bag in the car, to beat the mug.  You cannot powder over sweat.  Worst case scenario, I have good skin, and a nice tan. For non event stuff, I'm getting away with bold lips, and mascara.  It's nice to be 37, and still have the skin of a twenty year old.  Well, I still get zits, so...maybe not always so nice.

I feel good.  I have my shit together. I haven't decided what to wear yet, I was going to wear the green dress, but my table stuff is all emerald green, I don't want to be a wall of green.  That's the only piece of the puzzle that hasn't slipped in yet.  I am making money today, and I love money.  I am making connections with new people today, and I love new people.  Like my therapist says of herself, "I am an introvert, but I love engaging.  I love going to parties, and meeting new people...as long as it's on my terms."  Yaass mawma.

Holee fuck, it really is never a day without bullshit.  It's like...I say I need a peaceful day to handle some shit, like the lawyer stuff, the phone call that I waited for that never came, and preparing for tomorrow.  Nevermind why I need quiet, just...that I need it.

Three.  Separate.  Times.  Luiz came into my space, and started shit with me.    The actual reasons so petty, I'm not even going to get into it.  But they're all different and subtle, and fucking annoying.

It's like...I say I need a little tranquility, and I sort of moved shit around in my life so I can have a nice day, and there's a smell in the area that attracts him.  Like blood on calm water or something.  And the most infuriating thing is instead of leaving me in peace on days like today, he will come in and start conversations, all motherfiucking day.  Being annoying, saying annoying shit, bothering me over and over again with stuff that interests him and him alone....and then HYPER SERIOUSLY OVERREACT when I answer in kind.   He pops in here about twice an hour with some annoying shit.  I pause what I'm doing, writing, reading, going about placing a phone call, gaming, listening to a book, watching a show, neverfuckingmind, I pause it, every half hour to hear whatever he has on his mind.  I respond in a salty manner maybe once all day, and that escalates it into a huge blowout.

He succeeded the last time, because the answer is, if he doesn't remember something and I do, the obvious answer is that I am lying. If it's not in his memory, I fabricated it. He said that to me point blank.  That's just, the answer.  But, he won't let that answer die, because it doesn't make his ego feel good, so he will manipulate and harass and demand apology for me...because we remember the event differently.  I am ready to let it die at "ok, we remember things differently." Like I give a fuck.  But he won't let it die till I am full blown admitting that I'm deliberately lying, he was prepared to chase me from room to room, yelling at me because I'm lying, and Irv had to shout at him. By the way, this was about a game. That's stock fight thing number one.  It's getting super predictable.

Stock fight starter number two, which happened earlier this morning.  I say a thing, in a neutral tone.  He raises his voice into this self righteous boom (think:  "how DARE you?!!")...that's when it starts.  I am under no circumstances allowed to have sass, salt, or any sort of assertiveness when I speak to him, or I will get HOLLERED AT, accused, towered over, and generally berated. He's so fucking dense, that sometimes I am getting mad on his behalf, right?  Like I'll say something like "fuck those guys! They don't get you!" and he turns that fucking booming voice on me, and then I not only have to take all this time talking through his self righteous ego armor, like "no, I meant...no I'm not being salty with you, no...I meant fuck *them*" .  So, if he gets offended, no matter if I'm saying something good, bad, or neutral, if it triggers his very sensitive ego reaction, I am in for an afternoon of aggression.

His third stock fight is just straight up not doing something he needs to do around the house, till it becomes a hazard (see, 3.5 days of dishes left to rot in the sink in high summer...) and when someone brings it to his attention, he lashes out like an angsty teenager.  That one is getting super tired, and even Irv who never gets involved will tell him to stfu.  But, it still happens from time to time.

And of course, today is the day his 'friend' decides to pop by unannounced and walks in the house without knocking.  I'm not saying they're correlated, but...I'm just gonna note that here.

Irv got home a while ago and asked if I wanted to go do a few errands with him, and I said no, that I'm still waiting on the phone call, and that I would like a restful day.  I am living in a fucking fantasy world if I thought staying at home with Luiz in that weird aggressive "fuck with Lisa" mood he gets into would be any more restful than getting carted around to various stores.Getting smashed repeatedly in the face with a heavy book would be less anxiety inducing.

Yesterday was on the busier end of the spectrum for me.

I had my first reading at 9 am, then just ongoing stuff till I got home after 10 pm.  I had four timed appointments, and errands to run in between each thing.  This is the kind of day the planner was made for.

I got to therapy on time at noon, wrapped that up at 1, went across town to Count Basie to pick up tickets for a show.  Then I stopped at the Asian market on 35 on the way back, for some veggies and lunch.  There was nothing really there to ready to eat, though, so no fun Asian lunch.  Sad, because the place that used to be in the same store had a great bakery and hot food counter.  I could go in there and eat a good meal for like three bucks.

I had to pick up Luiz and get him to our accountant's office by 2:00, so I skated in the door at 1:45, which is when he informed me that we needed to go find an ATM...but we got there.  Then I went to my nail appointment at 2:30, which was nice, and necessary.  I figured fuck it, I got the full treatment, nails, pedi, brows.  Got out of there close to 5.  We hit Wawa again because Luiz was hungry, and I picked up dinner for Irv too.

Then I had another tarot appointment capping off the day.  It rained later in the day yesterday, so the dudes didn't have work, which meant Irv came to the shop with me.  We got there at 5:30 appointment but long story short, she wound up showing up at 7.  I expect this.  I am flaky, and I have flaky clients with busy and anxious lives.  We're friendly, so we chatted for awhile, and her reading wrapped up at 9:30.  Irv hung around town, reading his Kindle on park benches.  I thought for sure he would mosey on over to the Pig Out for a beer, but he was feeling low key, I guess.  Anyway, closed up shop, and was home by 10:30.

The only thing I really needed to do yesterday that I didn't get to was go grocery shopping.  We're getting perilously low on the staples, and I was annoyed that I couldn't squeeze it in post nails, pre tarot.

All that, just to make today easy and bullshit free.  Which is a fantasy, of course.  There's not one day in my life that doesn't come with bullshit.  This morning, I already fielded three work related emails, Luiz started his usual shit, trying to egg me into a fight, and I'm sitting here very anxiously awaiting a phone call.  Irv handed me a heap of checks to take to the bank.   I should honestly be cleaning, but to really clean, I need to powersmoke a bowl, crank loud music, and just get down to it.  That's not a mindset to field a potentially very important phone call.  The bathroom is gross, and it can keep being gross until I get the time to clean it, or someone else deigns to do such a lowly and filthy job.  Also, it's 92 degrees in the house right now.  Fuck. That.

During all that running around yesterday, Emily called from DSW, our contractors, and wanted to talk in depth about our work scope.  Which is good, because the one she showed me was pure crap, completely inaccurate.  She hit me as I was running around, and I asked her to call back today when she had a chance, so we could go over it in depth.  I'm waiting on that call now.  I hope hope hope it's better than the one she showed me... I hope hope she calls me...Every time they say "we'll call" and they don't, I play harder and harder hard ball.  If she doesn't call within the next 4 hours, my plan B is calling a law group that I've been in contact with.

Today I also need to go into the shop and get my shit together for tomorrow night.  I needed a day of peace today, to mentally and physically prepare for it.  It's not the party that's causing mild  anxiety, it's the drive to Bronxville which, in traffic could be a 5 hour ride.  Long drives to unfamiliar neighborhoods in other states for events causes me mild panic. I have to run in today, to get my tarot on the road kit, which is decks, stones, my business cards and info sheets, my sign up sheets, decor.  I'm so not ready.  Not only is my bag not packed, said bag still has beach stuff in it.

I hoped to have a day to recuperate, Thursday, but already on the schedule is getting my license renewed, grocery-fucking-shopping, Luiz wants to make a date out of it.   Then we have to hit Costco.  Then I have a full work day Friday, and Saturday, and a party to go to Saturday night.  Maybe I'll relax Sunday.

I always say "my schedule is flexible" but, that's because I plan in such a way that allows it to be.  It doesn't mean I'm not doing anything.