2007-01-08

what? you'd rather do your laundry?

Monday morning. Bah.

My birth control is turning me into more of a spaz every month. The last week is particularly awful. I went out with Paddy on Friday night and then we went to the beach on Saterday afternoon. Normal enough, right? He was going out later with a friend of his I can't stand, so he figured I was going home. I thought since they would only be going out for an hour and a half that I would just get a burrito and meet him later. He asks me what time I'm leaving (only slightly more tactless with something thrown in there about how we don't need to always spend the whole weekend together because he doesn't even have time to do laundry, much less go out with his other friends) and I seriously start crying. Annoying, perhaps, that he hasn't more tact, but nothing to cry about. So the man wants time to do his laundry and hang out with his friends--it's certainly something I normally could handle, even approve of. Then he felt bad because he made me cry. I don't necessarily realize at the time that I am completely over-reacting, but now I feel ridiculous. I also cry at dumb movies, hallmark commercials, when I think of all the children in Africa, or the wind hits me just right. Or on demand by thinking of something sort of sad. I'm doing it right now. Oh, the humanity!

Seriously, what am I supposed to do? Just warn him that I am going to be a nut for the following week? I don't really want to change my birth control because it has, until recently, been less of an issue than any other that I have been on.

Anyway, on Sunday I went to the san jose art museum because i haven't been in a while. They had some ok exhibits, but they have started charging 8$ to get in, and it certainly is not the MoMA. It has, apparently, made them solvent enough to have freakin' orchids in their bud vases on all the tables in the cafe. Whatever.

xanthium at 9:39 a.m.

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