I am getting depressed

I have lots of things to be depressed about, wait a minute, no I don't, it just looks that way. But I am getting depressed. I'm frustrated with my life. . . I need to get a better job, so I can work only ONE job. And it has to be more money then both my jobs now combined. I'm so wore out now. Sooo tired, all I want to do is sit or sleep.

I'm also frustrated about Best Friend. All we talk about is the boy interest. Now, I don't mind this AT all, if he was really a boy interest. But he's NOT. He's not her boyfriend, he doesn't kiss her or anything, he's continuously breaking dates with her, and when he does shows up he already has changed their plans, and expects her to go along. Even when it's suppose to be her choice, he's already planned out what they are going to do, with out asking her.

And here she is, putting up with it, trying to make her expectations meet his reality, instead of just moving ON. She keeps doing this. She swears she's not, that she got hooked on the last two supervisors she had at the last two job is just chance happenstance. And that they acted like they were interested and didn't close the deal, just like the boy interest, is just happenstance. And didn't end the relationships, and just kept crawling back for more, just happenstance. I point this out to her and she denies it. You know, I just don't have the verbal skills to win an argument with her. She thinks so fast and has soooo much more emotional vocabulary then me, it's just pathetic. Why is she throwing her life away on these guys?

Another thing I'm frustrated with is; is that she has a baseline view of how things are suppose to be. It's like Cinderella's story accept, she doesn't stop to see how it's wrecking what she does have. She's suppose to be married by now, be an professor by now, own an house by now, and it's just suppose to happen. I don't know how many times she has told me her life is suppose to be easier, and that all of her friends from U.S.C. have that easier life. And a boyfriend is suppose to make her life easier because he will take care of her. I don't think men make your life easier. They may provide more money, maybe even "take care of you," (not mine), but there is a price.

Okay, she was raped, had a nervous breakdown. . . ., that has delayed or halted the professor gig. THAT is justifiable, . . . I will give her that, and kudos for managing to drag her self back up. But the dating thing. . . no. He's just suppose to show up? She doesn't have to look for him? Dating services are just wrong for her to do? No. And this is what she keeps telling me, although I bet she doesn't think of it this way.

The house, lots of people don't own houses. They still make nest anyway. I don't know why she feels this way. It's that baseline belief again of HOW HER LIFE IS SUPPOSE TO BE AND IS NOT. I mean this baseline belief is really, really detailed, to the point, that it's not a good house unless it has central air, and ya, brand new, she must be the first person to live in it, to make an imprint. Otherwise it won't be the "right" house. And again, I'm sure she completely unaware of this.

She has a timeline in her head, and her life just doesn't match. And she eats herself alive for it. She just can't seem to change the baseline to meet reality. And I find that really frustrating.
Well now that I have vented about some of things that are bothering me, I will get off and do something with my time like clean the toilet.

Okay, Now Baguette Is Really Gone

I wondered when this was going to happen. Ever since she moved to London to live with her boyfriend, Wendy's posts have been getting fewer and fewer. At first, this was because, she was in a new country, left her boys behind, the turmoil of a new relationship, i.e. depression/excitement, pretty much in equal helpings. But, you see then, she got her bearings. Which is why she's not writing any more. . . because she was writing in France because of the little emotional trap she was in. Loved her boys, but couldn't live her life the way she wanted to because of them, (around and around chasing tail). Finally, she met Martin, who broke the deadlock she was in. So, now she has a life and doesn't feel the need to blog her frustration at not having one, any more. So, what would I rather have, a pissed blogging Wendy or a happy, non blogging Wendy? Well, a happy one, of course. Even if I don't know her, I much rather someone was happy, wouldn't you?

The Second Worse Thing About Working For The Florist

(The first is delivering to the funeral of a baby or child)

Two days ago I took flowers to a doctor's office in the town next to mine. (I'll make up a name here). The tag said Jane Clark. Problem: No one works there by that name, they did have a Betty Clarke. But she didn't go by Jane. I called the telephone number on the tag. Got a phone machine, left a message. Called the store. They called the sender, (same number?), left a message. Bought it back to the store. An hour later, the flower designer told me they had determined that it was Betty, (they took off the taped on address, and discovered that it was hand addressed to Betty. I redelivered it.
The next day the bookkeeper (running the shop that day) asked me about it. I had to make another delivery. . . Turns out the sender was very upset about our foul-up. Betty was his mistress. . . Jane was his wife. Had to take flowers out to his wife (just about in the next county) because she was now expecting flowers because of our multiple phone messages on her home phone! Yes, he used his HOME PHONE NUMBER for the call back number. And he put down his wife's name for the delivery address, because he's a first time order, and we don't have it! How stupid is that?
So, I had to go out there and look her in the eye, (and her small children) while she complained about "our mistake." At least, she was clueless, that her husband was cheating on her with a younger woman.
I felt like slime, I tell you. I don't like being made a party to this man's infidelity. Like I was participating with him. Blech.