10.20.05

Came to work today because I am in the bind of the working poor; don't work, don't get paid. While I have resources to fall back on--unlike many--I don't want to get used to having them. So I tread lightly.

Still feel like ass, still feel incredibly overwhelmed by the shop, still feel as if I'm going to be alone forever because I'm too frightened of being hurt, and it's all clumping into a giant hoagie o' despair.

*sigh* Oh when will my much-vaunted middle name kick in? I'm tired of feeling cold and lonely and grey. ArcAngel666 says that The Guy who's willing to put up with my shit is out there looking for me. What if he's looking in Kuala Lampur? *laugh* That'd be par for my course, wouldn't it?

Somehow I feel as though I shouldn't need someone. I feel as though I shouldn't want to share my life with someone--that I should be strong enough to handle it all on my own. But that's so not true. Yet I suck so badly at picking them. It seems that the only ones brave enough to approach me are the ones that'll hurt me in the end--whether by chance or design. And I'm too shy to approach guys. Yep. That's the truth.

I'm too shy. I know that sounds strange, but I think I over-compensate for the shyness by wearing a public mask of brashness and bravado. But if you're paying attention, I don't let you in too close. It's sleight-of-hand; look at the shiny, jingly things and oooooo, she's talkin' sex and sordidness and...ooooo!, meanwhile I don't let loose the sensitive jumble of nerves, hopes, and fears that's me.

Gads. Has anyone got this figured out? 'Cause I don't even know enough to ask the right questions.

Oh well. Go. Be fabulous.

And I'm gonna try.

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