Glutton for Punishment.

Retardo over here, went to Stephen's house on Thursday night to drop off the last of the things I had of his. Not his keys, though. He doesn't get those back until he gives me mine back.

Even if it does mean he owes his landlord an extra $75.00 for the Medco key. He lost MY Medco key...

Anyway. I went over there. I gave him his stuff, he gave me mine. And then we went to The Standard and had a drink. Then we went to Buck 15 and had a drink. Then we went to Spris and had a white pizza and some wine. Then we went to The Abbey and drank Belgian beer.

And then we stumbled home at 1:15 a.m. and took a shower, and went to bed. And then I woke up at 6:40 a.m. and had to jet home, iron, shower and drag my hungover and not-well-rested self into work.

And the worst part? I think I have just reset the breakup clock. Which is retarded. And I'm really pissed at myself.

Of course, then he called me on Friday. A few times, actually. (He got pissed at me on Friday because I wouldn't do him a favor, but I was a the David Sedaris reading, and I couldn't...he hung up on me -- and anyway, he dumped my ass, I don't have to do him any favors.) He called me on Saturday, and we spoke. And then I called him on Saturday evening, and he never called me back.

And now? I am once again, a mess.

I was doing really well, too. I was running at about 20% capacity on Wednesday... (I've been running on 0% since this breakup) and I was starting to forgo my illusions of throwing myself under a train, or leaping off a tall building.

I guess today was really depressing because it was Easter, and I couldn't really do too much. And also, I was slammed with mind-numbing-don't-get-out-of-bed depression. And what did I do? I spent the ENTIRE DAY waiting for him to return my call.

And I am SO ANNOYED at myself for being SO PATHETIC. And I am also SO ANNOYED at myself for being so upset about this. Honestly? I should be happy. And in reality? I would take him back in a second if he asked me. No problem. Anything to make this blinding and suffocating feeling go away. Time heals all. Blah blah blah. I wish time would go faster.

And I've been DOING things, too! Although, it does go to show me that I can't sit around the house all day swearing up and down I'm going to do laundry...because it just means I flip through channels all day and dwell on the fact that I'm alone, and that Sundays no longer entail wandering down Lincoln Road or going up to Sunny Isles, or exploring dangerous-but-architectually interesting Opa-Locka. I kept trying to make plans for myself too, today. And no one bit.

On top of everything else, whatever infection I had in my throat is back, so I'm going to have to to go to the doctor AGAIN. Serves me right for kissing Stephen. If nothing else, this should show me that he's toxic, literally and figuratively, for me.

I just really want to break some glass or some ceramic. I want to punch through walls. That's not like me at all. And I'm not even going to act on it, because I don't feel like cleaning it up.

So, now, I think the best course of action, is to watch The Simpsons and Desperate Housewives, take a sleeping pill and go to bed early. Because, once again, I'm super depressed. And tomorrow is going to SUCK at work, because I'm sure I'll be in a mood again, and not into dealing with anyone else... which is what one has to do when at work...