CBF has been having real issues with his new job, in that it's just a very, very, very difficult and tiring job. He expected the worst, and somehow, it was even worse.
We've been talking regularly, as usual, though not daily and I think him talking slash venting about it does seem to help. And really? From the stories he tells, I'm fucking amazed.
One of the reasons that I love him so dearly is that we are able to make our worst pain really funny. He's even better than me; because somehow after of course serious "Shit, that's awful. I'm sorries," he will always tell an anecdotal story that has us ending up laughing really hard.
We've both been going through some stress lately, and one of the things we share right now is the fact that we're both fucking poor. I mean I budgeted the next week down to the dime. I have no room for error. I looked up the cost of toilet paper online at CVS so I could geusstimate how much it was going to cost with my Drano and two other essential items.
I digress. But I guess that's an update on the last post of not taking toilet paper from my office.
Anyway, we were both lamenting our poverty, and he was saying how was in Virgin Megastore and he really wanted the new Tracy Chapman CD, but then he was all, "I'm not a lesbian. I don't need her new CD!!" to convince himself. I don't know if it was his delivery or just the joke itself, but we both fucking died laughing.
Then I had to laugh again today, because I went to one of my favourite daily sites, Afterellen.com, a lebian/bi media viewed site that is pretty interesting and funny, along with its' younger brother Afterelton.com, and the lead story is a review of the new Tracey Chapman CD.
I had to bust out laughing.
It's funny because it's true.
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