So it's been a while. A few months. I've got a new job and loving it. I've got a new boy and love that, too. I've got a new (...ish?) computer and that's going well. Things are going well. But I spend most of my days angry, frustrated and ornery.
Two months ago I was at a friend's house and I was introducing her and another friend to the outright hilarity that is Cougar Town. Shut up, it's fucking funny. It's one of those comedies where you don't have to think about the humor, it's just there for you. I love smart humor, don't get me wrong, but sometimes it's just fun to not have to think and just laugh. So we were drinking wine and watching Cougar Town on my computer when my friend (who, admittedly, is clumsy and should not be around electronics when alcohol is involved in any quantity) spills wine on my computer. The glass had maybe (maybe!) a tablespoon of wine in it and the wine hit the side of my computer and the screen went black. It was a MacBook, so naturally it was ridiculously expensive to fix. $1300 worth of expensive. But the third friend of this equation felt guilty, so she fronted the money and the two of us are paying her back slowly. So Harvey (that's his name, my MacBook) is back with a new case but the same ol' hard drive inside.
I work at an Inn on an island off the coast of Maine. It's beautiful, and perfect. I've been there for all of a month and a half and they want to move me up to manager. Not bad.
So maybe I jumped the gun a bit in the new boy department. There's a guy I've been spending a lot of time with, mostly on the ferry to and from the island which has been really nice. He lives on the island, which works out kind of great when I miss the last ferry back, which has been happening with more and more frequency. And the fact that he's beautiful and has the most comfortable bed in the world and a small, cozy cottage right on the water definitely doesn't hurt.
The frustration, beyond the normal money woes and self-image issues, comes from a condition called geographic tongue. I won't link to it, but you can google it if you want. Basically, the tongue looks like a topographic map. I'm starting to think more and more that this is the condition that's been plaguing me since I was a small child. And while I am certainly prone to over-dramatizations, the use of "plaguing" is certainly not one of them. It's so painful that I have to call out of work sometimes, take benadryl and sleeping pills and just spend most of the day zonked out. There are fucking fissures on my tongue. What the hell?!
Anyways... I'm alive. I'm well, working on getting to great.