Burf helped me get some new running shoes at the running store he works at. They are ugly as sin lolol and BRIGHT FUCKING ORANGE but oh well, whatever, they’re super comfortable and fit perfectly. And they were $29 hahaha. He got me 40% off 70gram Thinsulate lobster-claw mittens too, and a bunch of socks for free.

I started doing my taxes tonight but I need some other forms from my last-year taxes before I can finish doing them. I’m starting to think I’m not gonna get shit back. Bleh. As long as I can pay at least one month of my rent ahead of time, that will be good enough for me.

J apparently read that ramble I wrote about him yesterday, I sort of feel strange knowing he reads this occasionally, but I don’t mind. I more worry about offending him or something. When he texted me I apologized in case I had, since me talking about his relationship issues online probably isn’t a nice thing to do, but oh well. He apparently didn’t mind.

Just thinking about him sets my nerves jangling. I get all tense and… anxious, I don’t know. Writing about him just now did it to me too. The weird thing is, I’m like, still not properly over him, obviously, but I know for a fact if you put the two of us alone in a room together we would probably both be totally awkward with one another and it just wouldn’t work right. Well, unless maybe a few drinks were had. Social lubrication in the form of whiskey. Even when he was here visiting it felt … forced or something. I don’t know. Because we were expected to act a certain way and not touch and just say general nicety things and blah blah blah. When all I really felt was just fat and embarrassed about how I looked and sad that he had left at all and sad that he was there but was leaving again and sad that I couldn’t touch him and mostly I just wanted to take him back to my place and put on some cheesy VHS movie in the background and split a bottle and fucking jump his bones like in the old days. But it wouldn’t have worked. The awkwardness was in place already.

This is turning into a fucking stupid ramble, I don’t know what I’m even going on about any more, I’m so fucking tired from being brutally hungover all day and working and today was day 5 of a 12 day work streak, I really just should go to bed but I’m waiting on my laundry. I think at this point I’m typing just to have something to keep me awake.