August is Hell

Truly, truly hell. There is just no way to do anything but work, sleep, and hopefully eat with all the hellish hell that is August. A couple of my other favorite bloggers (I really wish I knew how to do the cool link under the name thing, but I don't. I know, I'm retarded) The Bouncer and The Waiter live in NY. They have said that August is a wasteland. No one is in the city. Others that I work with from Europe say that a lot of countries pretty much just shut down in August. Do you know where they go? To California, of course. More specifically, to my area of California. What with the luxury resorts and golf courses every-fucking-where, and the cool ocean air, who wouldn't come here? But still, jayzus it is crazy in August. I generally just accept the fact that I'm going to be tired and grouchy and my feet will hurt SO BAD for the four weeks of August, and also accept the fact that nothing else is going to get done at all. My house is a disaster of epic proportions, my son is wondering where his cool fun mom went, and I'm wondering if my feet will ever stop aching as we creep into September. Most of the truly hellish stuff is past, but September and October aren't exactly slow either. The only saving grace is that it is really good for the old bank account, so I guess I can't really complain that much.

In other news, the boy started his new school last week. A day at a beach in Big Sur, a hell of a drive, but what a way to have a first day of school. It would have been a perfect day if I hadn't crashed my car into the side of a mountain on the way home. It sounds worse than it was, and it could have been much much worse (two high school boys died a couple of weeks ago on the same road) but it still sucked. The insurance company will be picking up the tab to the tune of $4600, ouch, and hopefully I will get my car back soon. In the meantime I'm driving a piece of shit Hyundai that I hate, but that is much better than the boy or I being dead or in the hospital, so, again, can't really complain (although clearly I am, wah!)

Ah, the fiasco. Knew I'd get here eventually, didn't you? What to say about him and I. I think he still reads this, maybe, but maybe not. Who knows. It's all very interesting and confusing and fun. And hot. I just don't know what to say about it, partly because I don't want to show my hand if he's reading (not that that has stopped me in the past, I know) but also because I just don't know how to feel about all of it. The bare facts are he is being good. He is calling when he says he will, spending a lot more time with me than he has in the past, seeming to infuse things with feeling with more freedom than he has in the past. And kissing me in public, around all of our work friends, which was quite frankly SHOCKING to me. All of which is good you'd think, but I find it very hard, after all that we've been through, to trust him. No wonder really, you'd say, and you'd be right. He has not proven to be a trustworthy type of person, and since I've generally gotten rid of untrustworthy people in the past, I don't know how long someone has to prove they are worthy of the trust before you can trust them again. I pay a lot more attention to his actions now that I know his sly ways, but it's still pretty hard. For instance, the other morning while in bed, he got a call. He had to have seen that it was his work number on his cell when it rang, but after he said hello and the other person said hello, it was a woman's voice and he moved as though he was going to jump up out of bed. Like he needed to get to another room to talk to someone he didn't want me to know he was talking to. Then he realized the voice was a woman from work, and he relaxed back down. Those kind of things used to happen a lot when we were together before, and I just didn't clue into them, but now there is this ultra radar I have for stuff like that, and it's interesting what I see now. I do have to say that I don't see it very much now though, which is good for my sanity. On the other hand, he came into work with his ex-girlfriend, and everyone thought I was going to go postal and like, kill him right there or something. It was ridiculous how everyone was acting, but aside from being nervous about meeting her because of my own insecurities (you know, meeting the ex and finding out she's like a supermodel or something, not good) it didn't bother me at all. I was there on my normal night off, but he knew I was going to be there, so it's not like he was trying to slip her in while I wasn't there. Everyone gave him rations of shit for it, like they were fucking on the table with me watching or something, which annoyed the hell out of him. Her boyfriend works with me, and she and the fiasco are good friends still. Could they be sleeping together? Sure they could. How do I feel about that? No freaking idea, honestly. [I have an unconventional attitude about relationships: I truly do not care where you stick whatever you have, so long as you are honest with me (men DO NOT understand that as a whole, they are just programmed to lie about stuff like that). I don't know if I could sleep with only one person for the rest of my life, so I don't expect that with guys I'm with, but not a one of them has been able to be honest about it to me when they've been with others. It's really stupid, I'm basically telling them they can sleep with whomever they want so long as I know, and they still lie about it. Retards.] I took a couple of their courses out to them, and while I didn't stay and chit chat, it was nice to finally meet her. She seems nice, but it is strange that we look a little similar and she has the same name as me. Coincidence? Probably not, but who really wants to jump into that pool of possible craziness? Not me. It is an interesting little circle of incestuousness we have working right now though. I'm sleeping with him, everyone else thinks he's sleeping with his ex, I work with her boyfriend, and she's probably going to come work with us soon too. Yay! Small town with an even smaller hospitality community leads to some really interesting connections. I also had a very interesting and pretty damn dirty sex dream about her boyfriend last night. Another crazy pool I do not want to jump into. Jeez.

There is just nothing to say about work, because I do not have the energy. I should really just change the name of this blog to J's crazy fucked up life and get over the idea that this was ever going to be a waiting tables blog. And that, my friends, is one long assed post encompassing all of August. I bid you adieu, for now.