What have I done?

(Originally written on June 2, 2009)

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Long story short, I “quit” the Chickadee job today.  Remember that drug screen that they made me take on my first day?  Yea…well it came back positive for amphetamines because I take Vyvanse (a time-release Adderall, essentially).  All I had to do was call the doc with my prescription number to substantiate its presence in my system, but I decided simply not to do so.  So technically I got fired, but I really basically quit.  God, I hated that job so much.  Good riddance!

•     •     •     •     •

All throughout this ordeal with Gaston, I have confided in Scarlet and Martyr and sought their advice.  Scarlet has consistently told me from the very beginning – before the shit hit the fan, even – that I need to pull myself out of my “relationship” with Gaston and just move on.  He has also constantly reminded me of how Gaston treats me like shit and that I can do better.  On the other hand, Martyr, being the hopeless romantic idealist that she is, started off telling me that everything would be okay and Gaston and I would end up back together.  However, as Gaston has prolonged the situation, even Martyr has turned to telling me that I should just end it myself.

I called Gaston on my way home from work Thursday evening to see if he would tell me his decision over the phone.  He wouldn’t, of course, and really emphasized that he wanted to talk in person.  He told me that his decision was made, but that my reaction may change his mind.  That’s why it is so imperative that we have the discussion face-to-face.  This convinced me that he was going to end whatever it was between us, yet left me with a little bit of hope that I could salvage our relationship.  How do I need to react in order to change his mind? That question has been flooding my mind ever since then.  However, I’ve still been preparing myself for the “breakup” because I am almost positive that’s what he’s decided to do.

Well, Gaston did come back into town on Sunday, as he said he would, but it wasn’t until late in the evening.  I had been anxiously awaiting his call all day to tell me to come over and we would have our chat.  But I was tired and knew that I had to get up early in the morning and go to work.  I guess I figured that I had already waited so long that one more day couldn’t hurt.  I also didn’t want to bug him any more about it; he got really agitated on Thursday when I asked him to go ahead and tell me over the phone.  It was his responsibility to tell me whenever he was ready.  However, he didn’t even call me on Sunday night, not even to tell me to wait until Monday…

Monday passes (yesterday).  Still haven’t received a single word from Gaston.

I got home from work this afternoon and Gaston’s car was sitting in the parking lot.  That was it; I’d had it.  He said he was finally going to inform me of his decision on Sunday after a month of making me wait and here it’s Tuesday and he hasn’t even texted or called me!  I decided that I was just going to have to end it myself.  I went up to my apartment, fuming, and gathered all the stuff I had that was his:  a jacket, a t-shirt (both of which I made sure to spritz with my perfume), and two computer programs.  All the while, I was thinking about what Scarlet has been telling me to do for so long now.  I walked down to his apartment and knocked on his locked bedroom door.  Thankfully, Napoleon wasn’t there.  When Gaston opened the door and saw me standing there, he asked me,

What is this?

This is all your stuff that I had in my apartment.

Okay…

And regardless of whatever your decision is, this is mine:  I just can’t do this anymore.  I just can’t.  No one has ever made me feel so bad about myself and I have never been so belittled and disrespected by anyone in my entire life – let alone someone who I loved and who supposedly loved me.  I just can’t spend any more tears on you.

So…the part about me wanting to end our relationship:  it’s true, but it isn’t.  Obviously, I was high on anger and Scarlet’s and Martyr’s advice.  I’ve tried so hard to convince myself that it’s true.  I know it should be true and by no means do I enjoy the pain he’s caused me, but, for some reason, I’m still willing to suffer if he’ll just have me.

Well, this (as can be expected, I suppose) upset Gaston and he started pacing frantically.  Then I asked him,

So what was your decision?

Well it wasn’t that.

Then what was it?

You’re never going to know.

WHAT?!  After all this time, I believe I have the right to know.

Well get over it because you never will.  You’ve made the decision, so what I wanted doesn’t matter anymore.

When I asked him why he hadn’t contacted me since he’s been in town, he simply said, “Because it’s hard and it’s not exactly something that I was looking forward to doing.” For nearly three hours we proceeded to debate the decision.  And every time I tried to convince him that what I said wasn’t what I really wanted, he shot back with, “Well it came from somewhere,” or, “You said ‘regardless’ of what my decision was, so it really must be what you want,” or, “Well then why’d you say it?” even though I had explained myself 10 times.  During most of the discussion, we were cuddling on the sofa, holding hands, with me crying (go figure).  At one point, I desperately pleaded,

Remember in February after we decided to just be friends and then got drunk a few days later and I ended up staying the night with you?  We just can’t help but be together.  The next morning you cried and begged me to stay because you told me that you were afraid it was going to be the last time you ever got to lay with me. That happened for a reason; you felt that way for a reason and I refuse to believe that you just don’t feel that way anymore.

The discussion ended with Gaston telling me that no (new) decision would be reached tonight, that we would pick it back up tomorrow and that he would take my explanation(s) into consideration.  Again, the outlook is grim, yet I’m still holding on to that little glimmer of hope.  What have I done?

Missed Connections

(Originally written on May 27, 2009)

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Chickadee intern orientation today.  The CEO came in and gave a presentation about being a leader.  Then he revealed that this was not the company for someone who wants a flashy office and all that jazz.  I know that IS what I want, can I therefore resign?

•     •     •     •     •

Gaston came back in town on Saturday.  We were supposed to hang out later on that afternoon, but he was out-of-reach because he took a nap and then didn’t wake up until 9pm.  Once I started getting ready for bed, he finally called.  I ignored it.  Immediately, he called me right back, so I answered.   He told me that he was waiting at my door and asked if he could come in.  So I came downstairs, let him in, and we sat and talked for a little while.  He at one point put his leg up in my lap; however, we didn’t even hug at any point and nothing else physically binding occurred between the two of us.  He went out downtown for the remainder of the night, but before he left my apartment, I expressed that I wanted to spend some time with him before he returned home to south Georgia and I started working.

I ended up not going to trivia on Sunday because I went to a barbeque with Mario and some of our friends from back in my high school days instead…so I didn’t see Gaston on Sunday.  Then, when I left for the grocery store on Monday (which was Memorial Day), he was driving out of the parking lot with who I believe was Tomboy in the front seat and he simply – yet cheerfully – waved at me in passing.  I later texted him asking if we would have “our time”.  No response.  Sometimes he doesn’t get my texts, so I sent him a direct message on Twitter (which he receives on his cell phone in real time as text messages).  Still, to this day, no word from him in response to either of my messages.  And he was supposedly going back home to south Georgia yesterday, but when I got home last night and left this morning, his car was still sitting in our apartment parking lot.  Guess he didn’t go back home yesterday after all…  The red BMW that I think belongs to Tomboy is also still in the parking lot.

Why am I anxiously awaiting his response? I KNOW I don’t want to be with him – I could go on and on with reasons why.  But for some reason I just can’t help but crave his love/attention/affection/approval/whatever.  Why can’t my heart and emotions accept my logic and just let go?

•     •     •     •     •

So we just got back from the orientation lunch and chicken processing plant tour.  All I’m going to say about the tour is that I enjoy not being a vegetarian and don’t understand why it was necessary for me to have to see that.  For lunch, on the other hand, we were served a really nice six-course meal – full place settings and all (needless to say, everything except dessert and coffee was chicken).  Let me just say that I am astounded that I was the only one present that knew how to properly use silverware – I mean, this is a company that is centered around food.  It wasn’t the other interns who surprised me, but not a single one of the high-rankings of the company knew how to properly use silverware.  That’s part of simple business etiquette – I mean, if nothing else, at least remember the rule quoted to Leo DiCaprio in Titanic:  “Just start from the outside and work your way in”!

Oh my god, the Vice President of Human Resources is supposed to be finished presenting by now, yet he’s just been blowing air up his own asshole for his entire time slot.  Wow, he thinks really highly of himself.  He hasn’t even started his presentation yet…

Ugh – they constantly throw around the words/phrases “murder”, “slaughter”, and “rip ‘em apart” to describe the chickens and their processing.  Although the Chickadee employees may be used to it, I am not nearly as desensitized about the whole thing.  Like I said earlier, I enjoy not being a vegetarian and could do without hearing those words/phrases in this context.

Chicken Shit

(Originally written on May 26, 2009)

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Beast turned 55 today.

•     •     •     •     •

Today was my first day at Chickadee.  I absolutely HATE it.  What they want me to do is definitely NOT marketing research.  Someone with solely a high school diploma/education could do what they’re asking of me.  All I’m doing is going through an Excel file and creating new columns based on the value of another one.

There isn’t even anyone remotely close to my age in the office.  Everyone who works here is old and already has a family with kids.  And they’re all hicks.  I know I’ve grown up in the South, but I didn’t grow up in the country.  I mean, I can at least talk properly…  And the office is in the middle of nowhere – there isn’t even a Starbucks – there’s only ONE little po-dunk coffee shop that’s somewhat close to the office.

At around 1pm, the HR lady called me into her office to tell me that I had to take a drug screen.  At every job I’ve ever worked, random drug testing has always been listed as part of the job that I would have to agree with before being hired.  However, I’ve never actually had to take one.  During my drive to the doctor’s office, I finally had some time alone and away from Chickadee.  I was inches away from bursting into tears – and I would have if I didn’t have to look presentable for the rest of the day.  I was just so frustrated with myself for accepting an internship position that was (unbeknownst to me until today, of course) so far beneath my skill level.

This morning, I woke up at 5am, left the apartment at 6:30am, and didn’t get home until 9pm-ish.  I’m not so sure I can withstand keeping this up for three months…

A New Chapter

(Originally written on May 11, 2009)

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It has gotten to the point where I’ve lost hope in finding an ideal job and I have just started applying to anything and everything for which I think I stand any realistic chance whatsoever at being hired for.  Just this past Wednesday, I was extended an offer as a summer intern at a poultry company and I accepted it.  By no means is this what I think of as an exciting company to work for, but some source of income is way better than no source of income.  This company, we’ll call it Chickadee, currently has absolutely no marketing research department at the moment, so I’m basically going to be their guinea pig.  I’m kinda excited about it, though, because they want to make use of my graphic design skills in addition to the research and statistics.  I know that I will be working at their corporate office, but I can’t help but picture in my mind that I will be driving up to the building through a field of chicken houses.  It’s also discouraging knowing that it’s a one-hour commute (one-way, two hours roundtrip) away.

This was also the same day of my final client project presentation for the company that sent me out to Cincinnati for a second interview over spring break and then didn’t even offer me a job – they instead gave it to the biggest idiot in our class who just happens to have mastered the art of schmoozing.  Nevertheless, out of the six of us on the student project team, five interviewed with them, four received second interviews, two were extended job offers, and one accepted.  So, really, none of us wanted to be there, except, perhaps, the one who accepted their job offer.  Needless to say, the lunch preceding the presentation was the longest hour-and-a-half of my life. For example, they asked us if anyone was taking a vacation to celebrate graduating.  There was a seven-second hesitation/pause/dead silence before we each went around the table and all just plainly and bluntly said, “No”.  After that torturous lunch, the presentation just couldn’t end soon enough.  And then we got stuck in rush-hour traffic and our hour-and-twenty-minute drive home became two hours long.  It was excruciating.

Meanwhile, in the midst of all of that, Bacchus finally got back to me and told me that they want to fly me out to California in a week.  I’m excited about going there and checking everything out for myself, but I’m still basically internally knocking it out of contention because I don’t want to move so far away where I know absolutely no one.

•     •     •     •     •

By the way, I forgot to mention last time that when Gaston found out the web address of my blog and read it, he immediately showed it to Napoleon (and probably called Tomboy and told her about it too).  If he was so extremely embarrassed by my publishing of his “life” on the internet, WHY THEN SHOW IT TO MORE OF HIS FRIENDS?

Anyway, as far as avoiding Gaston and everyone associated with him…that’s not going so well (My weakness is pretty predictable, isn’t it?).  Gaston still hasn’t made any decision as to whether or not he wants to continue whatever it was that we had going on between us before the blog eruption.  I also forgot to make mention of this last time:  during the blog confrontation, Gaston told me that he was “really starting to love [me]” and that he hasn’t fallen for a girl this hard since Heartbreaker, the “benchmark” girlfriend, if you will, who tore out his heart right after high school and continued to stomp on it for a couple years afterward (he compares – or I should say, compared – everything in our “relationship” to that one).  Given that he feels so strongly that way, why is this decision so hard for him?  If you really love someone, why drag them along like this?

Yuengling thinks Gaston and I are done.  Again.  Before we all went downtown on Thursday night and it was just the two of us in the apartment, I asked Gaston if I could spend the night with him and he replied, “Sure, if you want to.  I don’t care.”  Then I asked him if he would ever spend the night at my apartment again and he told me, “We’ll have to see,” in a skeptic tone, not optimistically.  But he’s always that way, so I didn’t think much of it.  Well, once we were at Polly’s and I was talking with Yuengling about the whole blog situation, he informed me that Gaston had told him about my asking to stay the night and (apparently) played it up to Yuengling in a “I can’t believe she can’t tell that I’m done with her” sort of way, as though he’s made his decision obvious to me.  Why would Gaston even tell him about that?  I know that he did because he was the only person in the apartment with me when I asked!  That is just completely unnecessary to me.  Anyways, in conjunction with Yuengling’s belief that Gaston and I are over, Yuengling also said that Gaston would never actually tell me his decision and would just wait for it to fade or “prompt” me to do it.  I asked Yuengling if Gaston actually said those words and he responded, “No, it’s just his type.”  How comforting.

•     •     •     •     •

Completely opposite of what I just described above, last night Gaston invited me over (yes, you read that correctly, he instigated it) to just hang out and watch TV.  He ended up convincing me to watch This Is Spinal Tap with him.  I had never seen it before and thought it was going to be, like, a documentary about a death metal band (and I’m not a big fan of that particular genre of music).  I don’t know why I was under that impression…  The band name “Spinal Tap” just makes me think of it that way I guess…  Nevertheless, it was actually really good!

Throughout the whole movie, Gaston was being so affectionate.  He was playing with my hands, sweetly kissing me, pulling me closer to cuddle with him…  And after the movie, there was no attempt from either of us toward hooking up and I simply went back to my apartment to go to bed.  I can’t quite describe how amazing it felt.  Genuine and – dare I say – loving.

It really pulled at my heartstrings and makes me feel more confident that Gaston really does want to be with me.

•     •     •     •     •

On another note, I am done with school for FOREVER!  What a relief – even though I would feel a little better having the cushioning of a real job…  I have been awaiting this moment for quite some time now:  no more studying, no more tests, no more class, no more seminars!  Woo-hoo!