Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else

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My boss looked at the most recent drawing Stan got me. He looks at me, then at the drawing, and then shakes his head. �There�s something wrong with you people.�
�Hey, I didn�t draw it.� My defensive mode is on.
�Seriously, seriously wrong.�
�Again, not MY work of art.�
�Like right in there,� he points at his head. �WRONG.�
I guess only I understand Stan�s sense of humor, just as he is one of the few who understands mine.

I was complaining yesterday how nobody told me of HM�s recent surprise visit, and coincidentally he showed up today. I threw myself at him, made obnoxious excited noises, and continued hugging him. Stan was getting pissed off. I kept ignoring him and just continued chatting up HM, asking him questions, making fun of him, hitting him, throwing crap at each other, promising to find his new place and pester him. Stan walked away.

Half an hour later, HM left. Hours later, Stan came back.

Stan showed up briefly and all moody and not willing to disclose why he was in such a groggy mood. Okay, so I understand that he knows I have a great relationship with HM. I understand he knows that I know that HM totally adores me, and I love the attention. I understand that Stan still has if not the same feelings towards me, then at the very least the thought of other men sparking my interest pisses him off.

This possessive jealousy, in turn, pissed me off. Hey buddy, if you don�t claim me, you have no right to be jealous.

Then he decided to change his bike tire. I drooled. I was suddenly super turned on. He went on to attaching his break cables. I couldn�t take it anymore. He didn�t need any help. He decided to go home.

This was my cue to continue my non-work, and immersed myself in the world of HDR and IR photography. Lost in the beauty of the photographs I sunk deeper into my depression that is creeping around the corner and I am losing it. Losing it in all the possible ways.

12:53 a.m. - July 30, 2010

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