I just realized that I might actually miss Edmonton. I think I'm going to cry tonight before I leave. Well, I cry every night (the world disappoints me, except for David Suzuki), so nothing different there. I'm a Cancer, Cancerians do that. They cry, they weep, they shout, they scream, and then they go skydiving. I'm afraid of heights, though, skydiving is not so easy with an extreme OCD and panic disorder like mine. Neither is bungee jumping. I'm surprised I make it out of my apartment some days.
I guess I feel kind of ridiculous today. I mean, who cares about the guys? Most guys are taught to live in the moment and revolve the earth around themselves from the time they are born, but then they die alone. Very very alone. Very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very alone. Did I mention die? Yes, I think I did. DIE ALONE. Did I say bastard? No, I guess that's not necessary. The die alone part is mean enough. As for me, I might not find a guy that's caring enough or not so self-involved, and I've not got alot of friends, but the friends I do have are available to me 24 hours when I'm in "crisis" mode, Joanne-style. My roommate came and picked me up yesterday during his small window of time to himself and drove me around all day as he worked and monitored my bottle of muscle relaxers (I don't really need them, I just like taking them). The anger and disappointment soon turned to bottle counting on the side of the road. He even stopped and let me pick up a bag. That's my best friend. Even though he doesn't clean the bathroom. Ever. Well, except for the toilet bowl, there is not a chance in hell I'll touch the bowl. And I really think he should consider sit-ups, but just for my entertainment.
My other best friend in Edmonton is also border-free. His advice sucks ass at the best of times, but he's always there for me, telling me how much of a complete and utter idiot I truly am. I appreciate that. And he's not so non-idiotic himself, but I can yell and scream and swear at him all I want and all I get is the stern look and, "Listen, Joanne...". He'll go on about his growing up in Africa stories for hours after that. Then I drink a little too much and go on about my growing up in Hamilton stories. I admit it, I make stuff up. We did NOT have llamas in our backyard but he doesn't have to know that.
It's the jobs that I should be worrying about. And of course, I get all swept away with jobs I want, too. I keep forgetting that everyone has/is/will gone/going/go through the same thing at some point in their lives. You're pretty much soul-less when you're soul searching or you wouldn't be soul searching, would you? Ah, soul searching is just my way of justifying my unemployment. I guess I just need meaning and structure back in my life. I should apologize to everyone out there now for my whining and complaining. But I'm still going to feel sorry for myself for a little while longer because I get to go home and see my mom and I can get hugs for it. So long Edmonton, for now, but I'll be back when things are better for me. Coming back snail mail, expect two to six weeks for delivery.
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