And life is back to normal.
Except for the part where I’m in love. With a pretty amazing boy. Who seems to love me as much as I love him. Yeah. Except for that part everything is pretty much normal.
I actually worked tonight for the first time in what seems like forever. With the stress of the Oklahoma thing, a series of anxiety attacks, and just not wanting to, I haven’t been working a lot. Unfortunately my bank account is suffering because of it. I balanced my check book and if I can make 1200 dollars a shift for the next three weeks life will be good again. Of course that’s about as likely as winning MegaMillions this week. Actually work is great right now. My manager Allan, who I had such issue with for so long, and I get along great these days. He was actually happy that I am not going away for five weeks. Let’s hope the love affair lasts.
All kidding aside, things with Adam are great. They really couldn’t be better. I love him a lot and I know the feelings are mutual. It’s probably the sanest, most normal, healthy relationship I’ve been in. Right after we started dating we had a conversation about nicknames. I told him a whole list of nicknames that I’ve been called in my life. Maddog being one of them. And he told me he’d never had a nickname ever. So I told him I’d figure one out for him. But you can’t just decide you are going to call someone something other than their name. It has to come from somewhere. So we were chatting yesterday and Adam told me that it was his grandfather’s 101 birthday. Adam’s very fond of his grandfather. And in chatting he mentioned that his grandfather was always called Beck. There’s a story there, but I don’t have time for that. And so I think that’s a great nickname for my boyfriend. Beck. He doesn’t think I can get people to start calling him that, but I’m going to prove him wrong. So from here on out he’s known as Beck.
And then last but not least. “The Director” has started emailing me wanting me to help out the new lighting designer. I want to tell him to fuck himself. But I’m not sure that’s the right thing to do. I’m not really going to tell him to fuck himself but I might just ignore the emails. No one helped me figure this stuff out, and to make matters worse, if I do all the work for him then I’m the one dealing with all the stress, and you know how I feel about that.