Dear Diary,

Well good news (sort of). I got the contract, so once again I should be able to pay my rent. Phew.

Of course even though I knew Elliot was coming over on Sunday, I didn't do a damn thing on Friday or Saturday to clean this place up. Instead I woke up at 9:30am on Sunday, giving myself an hour and a half to clean up this pit.

And let me tell you... uh... it was quite filthy.

I mean, you guys know I have a tendency toward depression, right? And an eating disorder? Maybe they go hand in hand for most people, I don't know. But let's just say, I have not been at my best these last few days.

It started with me eating frosting out of the can, one of my old tried and true favorites. I haven't done that in a long time, but somehow... somehow there was frosting in my house. Because Bethany was going to have some kind of belated birthday party for herself, and I was going to make her a cake. But then only two people (myself included) RSVP'd for her party, poor Bethany- but she only sent out an evite a week before, I think people need more notice for a Friday night.... Anyway, the party wasn't happening, the cake didn't get made. I wanted something sweet. Big mistake. Sugar is my slippery slope. And I have been feeling like crap- being broke, doubting myself... plus I saw a picture of myself from this summer and I was SHOCKED and DISMAYED at how fat and unattractive I looked... yeah so the obvious conclusion I came to was to EAT A POUND OF SUGAR. Gosh I'm so damn brilliant.

This led to a terrible spiral of BAD eating, well not just bad eating but DESTRUCTIVE eating- eating to kill. And by the time I went to work on Saturday night, my stomach hurt and I felt like the most disgusting person in the Universe.

So then I wake up on Sunday morning in my disgusting house... really... dishes piled in the sink, gross bathroom, sheets that hadn't been changed in forever. I put it all to rights as best I could... so by the time Elliot got here all the dishes were done, the bathroom was sparkling, and the bed was made with a fresh set of sheets. I even did a little handwash, so I'll actually have some clean clothes for the rest of this week.

Interesting point: Elliot had called me after ten, to double check (even though we'd talked the night before) about things we would or would not have. I told him I had eggs, and bacon and greens, but I didn't have any gluten-free bread. I told him the same thing that morning when he called, but he lives closer to a store where he could get some... he insisted he didn't have time to get it because it would make him late (even though I could already tell with the timing that he was going to be late anyway, especially on a Sunday when the buses are slow) and he said, oh, well I guess we'll have breakfast without toast. I was obviously disappointed and even though I said okay, I hung up the phone and was mad.

I thought to myself that if Elliot was a man worth his salt he would get me some bread, because really it would take a really stupid man to walk away from that phone conversation thinking I was okay with a toastless breakfast. And it was just crazy in general how pissed off I felt- like I wanted to call the whole thing off. I'm insane.

In any case Elliot did redeem himself because he showed up at that door with two slices of oat bread which he found in the back of the freezer and insisted were wheat-free. See, that Elliot. He would be such a good boyfriend if he didn't have to fuck everything and then blog about it.

He cooked everything and I for the most part stayed out of the way, we had breakfast, then snuggled and watched "Strictly Ballroom". Which is one of my all-time favorite movies, I just can't help but enjoy it. It was hard to tell if Elliot liked it because, you know, maybe it's more of a chick flick. I remember Frank saying, "Honey, why do you like this movie?" which makes little sense since Frank took dancing lessons and wanted to be really good... but in any case I talked to Elliot later in the day and he expressed that he really did like the movie and he had gone home and looked up dancing lessons online, and he was disappointed they were so expensive. See, there are some very geeky things I like about Elliot the most.

Yesterday I did yoga with Bethany (we do it in her living room, you know I cannot afford to go to a class!).Then I spent a quick half hour with Steffy going over some points of our project... then I was tired and came home, I was practically ready for bed at 8:30, but stayed awake till 11. I feel like I could sleep forever, I am perpetually tired.

It's just good that I can sleep now!! Don't you think?

The other day I was very super tempted to call Smitten but I didn't not do it. I know it would be useless; maybe we would have a nice conversation but in the end I would be disappointed as always. I have to stop following these dead-end roads. Even though Pia seems to think that something amazing will happen with us, well, I say, then he has to make it happen. I am so unhappy with my own behavior. She told me that I should let him initiate anyway because I probably intimidate him with my natural desire to pursue relationship. Huh.

So unhappy with myself because somehow we went from him taking me out on two dates, to me pursuing him and running over to his apartment anytime he called (to be fair to myself, the free acupuncture was a huge draw), and then me bringing him gifts (pizza and cookies) that were not always so well appreciated (but I was feeling very grateful for the acupuncture), then making out one day, him saying he was coming over the next and completely blowing me off and ending up in a different city entirely on the day he was supposed to spend time with me.

So if he does contact me... I can't imagine... I am not going to go running over there. I have a feeling he will try to use the treatments as bait, but maybe I can resist that too. Depends on how I'm sleeping. And if he says he wants to get together with me then I will act like he means to take me out and ask him where he's taking me.

That is the basic plan, but, who knows if any of that will even happen, because I have a habit of always thinking somebody's gonna "come back" and sometimes they just never do, but in this case I will have to just say good riddance, because I can't see the point in being treated like shit anymore. Something in me must be getting better because it seems I am least able to better resist being treated like shit, whereas before it didn't seem possible.... I would run to wherever the shit-treating was happening and push myself to the front of the line.

Haha.

The only other thing I could think is that Pia mentioned we might work together, well I would really love for Smitten to fix my website, he is so good at that kind of stuff, but, again, who knows. My job right now is to focus really really hard on not being a doormat. Everything else will have to fall into place around that.

I am just telling gobs and gobs of truth today, so as long as I'm on a roll... let me just state for the record what I perceive is going on. I hate myself. That is why I eat frosting, why I put up with nonsense from men, why I fall hopelessly in love and obsession with those that don't give me the time of day... how to stop hating myself, I don't know. Why do I hate myself? I don't know. I went to the lake and I can tell that people there just LOVE me, they really do. It is a whole crew of imperfect people, imperfect just like me, and they think I am beautiful and talented and smart, and maybe some of the men have crushes on me, but those are not the men I'm attracted to, instead I go out and find the ones that crush my heart a little at a time.

It's an interesting scenario.

How do you stop self-hatred? It doesn't even go away when someone tells me how wonderful I am, so it's got to be something I can do for myself where I can really start to believe in me.

Wondering if most people feel this way, whether they are conscious of it or not, and maybe that's why we live in such a self-destructive society.

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