Emotional Residue

17:10, 04 June 2003

I don't even expect him to show up, frankly, and I don't really care, I said to nofat-chicks today. But that was not entirely true. I did care a little bit. Grrr. I hate that little bit. Nofat-chicks called it "emotional residue." I call it Ms. Irrational chattering in my head. She cares because she is, despite Ms. Rational's protests, actually hoping that he shows up, hoping it's all gravy as soon as we see each other, hoping that we decide to fuck off the library for a couple of rum & cokes... I wish Ms. Irrational would just take a vacation.

Ms. Rational is gloating right now, by the way, since it is 17:00 already and he has not shown up. The computer lab closes in 45 minutes and so it's pretty much a guaranteed no-show. Whatever, I've been working my ass off the whole time. I have literally sat at this computer since 10:00, taking only bathroom breaks and one half-hour Diaryland update break. This is ridiculous.

Not that I feel like I'm doing a good job. I have constant fears of being off the mark, researching the wrong issue, etc. Of course, I ask about the assignment as much as possible without sounding like the completely unqualified idiot I am, but somehow I never seem to fully grasp it. He hasn't criticised anything I've done yet, but still.

Not to mention that the pace of this job is just relentless. I just finished one big batch of research on education funding yesterday and today I finished the preliminary stuff on "popular constitutionalism" (prelim. because I didn't understand the assignment and have to have him look over what I've got so far). And when I spoke to him today, he gave me two new assignments, one of which is due on Friday. I am seriously stressed.

And now I'm going home because fuck if I'm going to wait around here "just in case" he shows up. I'm going to the gym and then home, where I will pretend to try not to give in to the urge to get baked. Ha.

Contact

12:54, 04 June 2003

As an exercise of closure, I removed Piyush from my messenger list a few days ago. This way, I can't see when he's online and then agonise over how he's not IMing me. But.... he can still see me and agonise over why I'm not IMing him.

So just now, I got an IM. From him. He's coming to the library to use the printers. Dear God! I thought, in a resurgence of anticipatory anxiety, I look like shit! Because yes, of course I still care what I look like. Especially now. I am, essentially, running into my ex and therefore it is imperative that he eat his heart out. Let me just give you an image to work with here: ill-fitting Old Navy jeans (only purchased out of necessity when all my jeans stopped fitting and I didn't have funds for a quality jean purchase), fleece pullover, runners. OK, so I don't look that bad. The jeans are killing me, though. Luckily, my hair looks nice. More ex post occasio.

Nostalgia

12:24, 04 June 2003

Westlaw (a law research program) is down right now. So I'll update instead. I got my new laptop yesterday so finally, finally, I'll have proper computing capabilities at home. Last night I was in the midst of chatting with Mehl when all of a sudden the letters y, u, i, h, j, n and m decided to quit. Well, that was the end of that chat.

I wonder if I'll see Piyush in New York. Or even before New York. Or even ever again. It's a strange feeling of independence and nostalgia I feel right now about him. My life is mine now: no waiting for him to be free to hang out with me, no anticipation of his phone calls... I've had to forge my own way. I'm going to figure out a regimen for this summer pretty soon. Maybe tonight. I want to really drill on French and Spanish grammar, I want to build my Swedish vocabulary with business and law terms so I can potentially work there someday. I want to watch movies (now that my new computer has a DVD player). I want to work on my writing. And... I want to find the next guinea pig for my Practice Exercises in Mastering the Adult Relationship. (Just for the record, my relationship with Piyush lasted three months. Just like every other relationship I have ever had. Hmm...)

The nostalgia I feel comes now and then, like a little tug on my heart. I'll walk past a coffeehouse we once met at on campus. I'll drive past the place we had lunch at during a study break. I'll pass his exit on the 10 freeway. I'll see the French papers I studied while I was with him. All these little reminders of a time when I got to have that little doughboy feeling all the time. I don't miss him per se, I miss that "beginning of a relationship" feeling, that reason to check yourself in the mirror three times before you go down to meet him in your lobby, that anticipation of his phone call because you know he will call. All these things make me nostalgic, as do all happy things we know have run their course but wish had lasted longer. I felt this way when I was a kid and we had to leave Disneyworld. I've felt this way at the end of a book whose characters I wanted to read about through many more adventures. I can't remember who gave me this sage advice, but I once was told: "Always leave wanting more." I agree, because that way, once the sadness of the End passes, you'll always smile because it happened.