Sometimes

Sometimes I just feel really sick of life. Not BEING ALIVE, just, living my life. Mine, specifically. It's like, okay, I've been tormented enough now, can I get a break now, for just a bit, can I just have things go back to normal?

Ah, but they are never going to go back to normal, are they?

I burned myself cooking tonight. It hurts. I burned myself on the inside of my wrist, too - really sensitive skin there. Probably going to leave a hideous scar. I can't wait. Hot oil for the win.

I, ah, did something I'm not real proud of, and I've been feeling pretty unsettled about it for a few days now. Yeah, it's Tuesday, so it's about that time for the weekend to catch up with me I guess.

I hooked up with the bartender from my restaurant, is what it comes down to. I'll spare the gory details, but - yeah. That's what I did. Because - I don't know why. I thought I didn't like guys anyway? I mean, I like him fine, I have no problem with him, I don't find myself particularly attracted to him though. We're not even friends. It just... happened. And he was really drunk, I guess, because the next morning (oh god, I can't believe I'm even writing this sentence) he acted like he didn't really remember exactly what happened between us.

But he drove me to my house, let me go inside and change, and then drove me to work. So, I mean, it's not like he was being an asshole about it, but still. He didn't remember much from the night before. I, of course, remember it just fine.

So I've seen him a few times since then and he's pretty much acting like it never happened. So am I. And I have this weird feeling like everyone at work is talking about us or something. I don't like it.

I think I like... feeling attractive. I guess I must - if all he had to do to get in my pants was act like he wanted in, I mean, geez, go me, right? That says a lot about my self-respect now doesn't it. But it's not like I've had any type of action - hell, it's not like anyone has so much as even LOOKED at me since, oh, since Krissy was here that one time. Ages ago.

Unsettled - unresolved, I guess. I feel like I'm waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop. Whatever that's supposed to mean.

As If I Would Miss Philadelphia

So, I had this idea last night that maybe I should see a doctor. You know, a woman doctor, an obgyn. Since I've become suddenly a sexually active person again. It would be the health-conscious thing to do, right?

Really, I'm not too worried about myself here. I suppose you can get pregnant from having sex one time, but it would be unlikely at this point in my monthly cycle. I'm actually quite regular. I suppose you can definitely catch a disease from having sex one time, and I suppose it's possible that B could have given me something, but it's about equally possible that I gave him something, for that matter.

It's just... the whole event has unsettled me so badly, and I really have no one to talk to about it. It's not like I have friends to confide in or anything. So I went to the clinic in Philly where I used to go when I lived nearby, and I've been there a few times since moving here, too, because usually they're really good there, and they have all my info on file and everything. Being that going to the doctor is not exactly my most favorite thing to do in the first place, I figured, I might as well go somewhere where I'm comfortable, and not go somewhere new and have to deal with a whole bunch of "new patient" crap and possibly have a bad experience to start with, never mind that it's not like I'm a patient on file anywhere around here so it's not like I could actually get an appointment with anyone...

( Oh, I'll cut this, it's gotten kinda long... )