:: Searching for Puck... ::

:: Monday, December 08, 2003 ::

Fast forward a little.

My car was indeed pronounced dead, and, yet again, I had to sign it over to the towing company or risk incurring astronomical fees of $25 a day storage, starting from the very night they towed it, on top of the 100 I already owed for towing. The garage will easily recover 5 times that in parts, and the entire industry physically disgusts me.

In other accident-related news, my airbags didn't go off, and as I mentioned before, my seatbelt malfunctioned and I have some really horrible bruising on my chest. I don't doubt that I would have broken something if my chest had been smaller - it served as an unwilling padding between my collarbone and some unyielding car parts. My neck took a beating because I snapped it pretty bad with the whiplash, but Joey made me lie down the night after the accident and he covered me with a hot water bottle and a heating pad until I felt a little more like myself.

I got a ticket for careless driving, but, mercifully, they didn't cite that I couldn't find my paperwork because it was buried in my car (ironically, it was neatly tucked in the glove compartment, a concept I sadly smiled at when the officer suggested I look there, informing him that nothing was ever in my glove compartment) or the fact that I just plain didn't *have* an inspection sticker, having never made it to the inspection station from when I bought the car, sans sticker, in July. They could have gotten me pretty bad for that. As it is, I got a $78 fine, which is a mere pittance, when it comes down to it. My insurance is going to go up, though by how much I haven't a damn clue. I have to get the police report and give the number to my insurance company. Even if it doubles, I'm still only spending a grand a year, I guess.

Ok. I've said my piece on the accident.

In other news, Joey and I went to Home Depot the night of the accident, after all the hospital unpleasantries, and picked up the makings of a shelf for his room. Apparently, he got excited at the concept of having a fishtank after seeing Dave's, and decided he wants one. He built an amazingly sturdy shelf in, I swear, like 15 minutes, and, two trips to petsmart later, we are the proud parents of two mollies (one of which is pregnant), 3 neon tetras, 4 fancy tail guppies, and, as a gift, Joey bought me my own beta that we keep in a separate tank beside the 10-gallon. Pictures of my Beta coming soon.

School isn't going so well, just because I've been missing class and my head isn't really working. I dislike my job an awful lot, too. Truth be told, I'm questioning pretty much everything in my entire life, from the way I dress to the career I've chosen. I'm in a pretty big crossroads right now, and it's becoming more and more difficult to think clearly and make clear decisions about the things I need in life. I feel like I'm trying to measure inches with time, weight with color, and sound with temperature. It's not a matter of being overstressed...something is very wrong with my basic perceptions of physicalities that everyone else seems to know at a glance. I fade in and out a lot more often now, but I'm scared....every time I try and explain it to someone, try to get help, I just get a patronizing ramble about burning the candle at both ends or a stern lecture about focus. I *do* focus. I focus until my head physically aches.

I feel like I did once on the trip to Hawaii I took with my father...we were all snorkeling off the coast on this special charter ship, and they were handing out fins to the young kids. I just kind of smirked...I've been swimming since before I could walk, so I'd be fine. I hopped in the water and proceeded to be amazed at the sensation of diving in clear water. Gradually, I noticed on my surfacings that the boat seemed further away, despite being anchored. Just current. I swam closer to the ship, but the gap was too great and I wasn't strong enough...the current, slow moving though it was, had bested a very accomplished swimmer without her even noticing - I moved farther and farther away, and started to get flutters of panic. Eventually, much to my chagrin, a friendly and knowing samoan lifeguard paddled out and rescued me. I knew my skill level, I thought I knew the playing field, and yet, nothing was true once I was immersed. It's all true again, except this time the stakes are considerably higher and there's no one to rescue me.

Joey is the closest thing I have to anything constant, at this point. I'm not the same girl I was when I was starry-eyed over my first relationship - I know damn well the only person that can save me is myself. But he keeps me steady, gives me at least one thing, one routine, that I know will be there even if my day was horrible. I make it sound so clinical....the truth is, I'm in love with him. Sometimes, that scares me a little too - trust isn't the highest on my list of easy things to do, these days. But I can't ignore what he's come to mean to me - I always thought that you had to fall instantly for someone for it to count....but this is far stronger and trustworthy then any of my relationships so far. I look at him and I *know* he cares. He tells me he loves me of his own accord, whenever he wants to, and I like that. I do my damndest to make sure he's happy too - in all honesty, and it's not an obsessive need as it was with others in the past, I want to be with him for good, and that's how I treat him. He's seen me at some pretty low points in my life and hasn't made any moves for the door, so I have to give him a lot of credit. Plus, he builds stuff and laughs at my jokes.

He and his dad have been giving me rides, but it looks like I'm going to buy his '92 Grand Am, so hopefully it won't be for too much longer. I'm going to go do some things for Brit Lit for now...more updates later.

~Fox

:: Fox 12/08/2003 05:19:00 PM [Say what?] ::
...