Sunday, July 18, 2004

Hell Hath No Fury...
This is my last night to have to work for this rotation.  After the day I had today, I definitely need the week off. 

JT brought food to me last night at 3 am.  I left work and rode around with him on my lunch/midnight snack break.  He told me how much he loves me and how great we are together. He told me that we are going to be together for the rest of our lives.  He told me that he has missed me.  Basically, a whole lot of bullshit was being vomitted by him. 
Last night, right after I was dropped back off at work, JT went and hooked up with Drew.  I may have mentioned him before, probably called him Sven.  At any rate, yesterday morning JT told me while wearing a huge smile on his little elven face.  Now I will call it impish though as long as no one minds.  I had decided that I was being too hard on him and was being crazy for not trusting him.  What does that teach you?  Always listen to your gut.  And Preston is always right.  Remember that kiddies.
Okay so I obviously started crying my eyes out and dry heaving.  I was devistated.  I still get a queazy feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about him and Drew.  So anyway, I asked him what specifically he did with Drew using the reasoning that if my boyfriend is having to go elsewhere to get laid, I want to know what I am not providing.  He looked at me with a completely emotionless face and did one of those mini single "Huh" hiccupesque laughs followed by, "Preston, we are not dating."  I started taking down the curtains, which is not some weird fag lingo.   I literally took them down as they were bought by JT.  He said for me to leave them.  Then he said he was going to take a nap before he got up to get his things together and move back out. NOOOOOooooo ma'am.  I told him to get his shit and go.  He seemed offended by my not allowing his cheating ass to take a power nap in MY BED after a long night of fucking some other guy.  He got up, started getting his things together, and kept telling me to keep the curtains.  I told him that I wanted absolutely nothing that he had given me, so I gave back the curtains and wood bead necklace.  (And to Anna Nicole who will from this day forward be referred to as Eeyore, if you are reading this, I need to talk to you soon.  I am pretty sure the way JT treated me is close to the way I treated you in which case I will be apologetic until the day I die.) 
The REAL trouble with the break up had not yet occurred.  So there is this shirt that I bought for him.  It is just a twenty dollar shirt, but he loved it.  He took my happiness away from me, so I felt that the least he could do is leave the shirt.  He disagreed.  I grabbed his bag.  He started screaming, "Let go of my fucking bag you fucking piece of fucking trash!"  He continued to call me "fucking trash" and he continued to scream.  He kept calling me a "fucking bitch" then he just started screaming, "Fuck YOU!"  Later on he told me that I am a piece of stupid fucking country trash who can't have a conversation.  I could have responded to his eloquent screams with screams of my own but instead I took the elementary school road and repeated, "Give me back my shirt."  A personal lowpoint for me.  Then he spit a lougie/loogie/flemball in my face and called me trash once again.  I punched him in the head.  We continued to fight and fight and fight...I was naked...until Father O'Flannigan broke us up saying for me to just let him have the shirt as it is probably best for him to just leave.  I agreed. 
I was going to drop the whole thing and just let him leave, but he had to open his goddamned mouth.  Father O was holding me with one hand and JT with the other to avoid us starting up again.  JT looked at me then at Father O and screeched, "I just hope I didn't catch anything from his fucking AIDS victim ass!"  So I busted his nose.  He went to the bathroom and spit blood all over the walls.  The hallway wall is pretty much knocked completely down where I threw him thru it not realizing that the wall was made of dry rot sheetrock instead of 40 year old concrete like the others in the apartment.
So now I have planned my revenge against Drew.  I may or may not do anything farther to JT.  I probably will not as I let my temper get the  better of me and beat him to a bloody pulp.  Oh I also balled up his glasses and threw them down the hallway of the building.  Childish?  Not even a question about it.  I know it is.  
I do feel bad about beating him senseless.  I now realize that I have got to get help about my anger management issues.  That is why I am now about to look into anger management classes.  I have finally come to the understanding that I probably do, in fact, need them.  Anyway, it is time for me to leave the workhole.    
Later Consuela.